Sunday 25 November 2012

The Mirror


She had been perhaps the most grotesque and the detested creature in the vast expanse of that colossus mansion. Loyola had been serving the inmates of that house since time oblivion but now what remained was her frail dead frame burdened with languor and ugliness. How often had she fleeted from one storey to the other cleaning and mopping the unkempt corners!!! With what great delight had she spent her days making breads for those hungry little mouths!!! Had not she caressed those little cherubs with profound concern and affection!!! But all had fled- the Agility, the sprightfulness, and every trait for which she had been revered and praised. What just survived was that perpetual urge to serve and that dreadful ugliness. It was the sympathies of the masters and the magnanimity of their wives that had still tamed the sick maid in their house.


 Loyola was in her early forties then. Those bygone quiet ephemeral years had estranged the maid from her own self, her family and her country. And what remained in that long pace of time was a faint picture of the roots to which she was born, the truth that she had been disowned by her father for being the ugliest creature of themand the name ‘Loyola’. Her kingdom that comprised of those long corridors and that old kitchen had shrunk into a disheveled little dark room that occupied an obscure corner of those ancient corridors. There was a broken wobbly cot, a couple of discolored robes hanging from a vermillion rusted iron nail, a dozen of tattered books, a massive mirror and a dried rose in a green vase that accompanied the desolate being in her loneliness. It was illness rather the diffidence that had scourged that little woman. What was it that had the swallowed her health??? Was it the incessant tiring years that had ripped her off her liveliness??? Or was it the profanity she suffered for being tamed as a loathsome worthless beast??? The abhorrence, the hateful glances, and the constantly stirring sense of uselessness had cloistered her to that dark room…..her room. The children were no more children. The house cheered in the rasping music of youth and ardor. The sons became the fathers and the elders gave way to their young sons. Generations rolled with an amazing briskness. And she was eclipsed the more!!! 


She was often discovered copiously weeping in her desolate confinements or was found ceaselessly gazing at the emptiness of those flaking walls. A couple of servants often attended to that poor retiring lady. It was just her silence and the quick deteriorating health that they perceived. The sent bowls of meals often returned untouched. And the silent sobs were gradually taken over by frequent shrieks and tearing laughter. The insanity exacerbated with each passing month and every reluctant eye stared at the door with a hidden awe. How keenly they awaited her farewell!!! How often did they think to get rid of that irksome creature!!! But how could they??? Had not she nurtured them with her own hands?? Had she not been one amongst them???The reluctance gradually metamorphosed into concern, but not for the insane woman, rather in trepidation of losing their philanthropic reputation.


One amongst those pretentiously kind people called for a doctor. But alas, the medicines were rendered futile. The doctor spoke no words of hope. She wailed and swooned. And the servants pitied the more. How arduously they prayed for her to sleep!!! And the repugnance intensified in those young minds. Was it not mere imprudence to feed that savage lunatic woman?? The family had grown bigger.And was it not a necessity to have more commodious rooms?? They moved the old furniture and the other paraphernalia into that room. The 'small' grew smaller and the sense of futility worsened than before. Every time the workmen straddled into that cell with some or the other massive antique, she was gazed at with hatred and fear. She covered her scarred visage with her chapped hands to mask her ugliness. Quite often the doctor stepped into her dreadful premises but departed with a mournful frown. 


Months fled past with abruptness. And the docile creature had not been seen for a long time. There was a deep silence with sudden murmurs. But no-one cared rather dared to plunge into that silent depth. Stirred by the sudden silence, the doctor was sent for. He carefully pushed in through that heavy door and walked in stealthily to that darkness. Thin streaks of light that invaded it through the small gaps of the window smeared that room with a faint dusky light. Peering through that dimness, his curious eyes perceived the long unseen woman. She sat herself on her neatly dressed cot with a tattered book in her hands. The man was taken aback by her composure. There was neither violence nor insanity. He drifted towards the patient hesitantly and muttered politely, “May I interrupt you Madame”. Loyola lifted her eyes from those old stained pages and greeted with a smile, “yes Sir”. He spent an hour in that grayness, relentlessly trying to probe into the cause of that abrupt change. He made frequent visits to that mysterious lady and each time he went, he was the more astonished. The question agitated him constantly that what transformed the sick lady. Where had the sickness disappeared??? But none could answer!!


She was seen with her mop again, cleaning and sweeping the floors. But the matter remained unanswered??? He often pondered upon the mystery and wondered if he could investigate the reason. But how could he??? Was she not still insane?? He often leaned against the locked door and tried to decipher the low murmurs that were often heard. But none of his question could find their answers. Unable to resist himself from the inquisitiveness, the doctor pushed in through the door and found the lady sitting close to that huge mirror. A faint smile smudged the corner of her lips and she gazed at it ceaselessly. Perturbing the silence he spoke out loud, “What are you gazing at Loyola?” she turned that detested face towards him and uttered with a smile, “me”. The doctor lifted his brows with keen curiosity. Measuring that he was unable to understand her, she explained, “There is a girl just like me that sits behind this mirror. She says that we two are alike, like the twin sisters. She says that she is beautifulso am I. Neither am I worthless, nor am I a discerned creature…..and no one is!!! All this time I have been abhorred, considered ugly but the girl who sits behind does not think me so. I had been a fool giving way to the perceptions of the others but look…..She saysI say that I am loved and deserve to live.” The doctor gaped at her astounded and wondered how the sense of futility and being hated ruined men. How ardently had she craved for love and acceptance!!! None could fathom those innocent desires. But it was ‘her’, who did!!!

Saturday 24 November 2012

They call her a Whore!


The play of orgasm and money which still knits behind the veil of urbane civilization dates back to the oblivion. A practiced heinousness since the most ancient years and even in the most sacred times evinces the sanctity of the squalidness of prostitution- A sordid portrayal of femininity. It’s ghastliness behind the curtains of those disgraced
 walls of the brothels…... have always been a celebrated custom in the evolving race of the rampant world. The sexual game that breeds in the narrow lanes of the Profaneness and Poverty has permeated well from the aristocratic Harems to the raw modern society.
The voyage was not disparate for her…. from any of those obtrusive women who shared the dark corners of the railway station or thronged the most obscure drenched streets of the city…. placing themselves to be mutilated by the infernal weapons of lust and animosity. Bimlamati had been 24 by then!!! Nine long years of estrangement from the clean social niche and bereavement from affection had been her life for all that time. Intense inimical environ and infliction of pain beyond human endurance had made her elope from her hostile confinements to savor sovereignty and mirth.... unaware of the diabolism that waited her crouching in that swarming populace. And since then she had been grafted into that abhorred low lane of the concubines….. to gratify the men and their ghoulish desires. The nascent adolescence built on gushing hopes and frailty had been shattered once again…. and they called her a ‘Whore’.
But is she just a whore….. when they call her one??? Is she not a mother or had a mother too??? Is she not the girl who desires to be apparelled in the attire of dignity and tread the arcades with the plumes of freedom decked on her…. but how would she?? Had she not thrown it off the last night and every night…… to feed the child she mothers, to water that sprouting sprig..... and keep the moist breath alive. The upper world which nestles on the other bank watches the darkness of this filthy world grow….. and scorns this reeking world… but the smoke that they see has its fire in their own homes. It is not the brothels which tame the wretches… but our homes which nurture the atrocities. The soul needs to be cleansed… and later the frame that enshrines it!!!

Thursday 22 November 2012

My Perceptions

As clean, as beautiful
The mirror, I saw
The crafted grandeur
Beauty gorged of flaw.

I tried to chase, 
The world so bright
But each time I leapt
They showed me fright

I tried to see, 
The vial of life
But the eyes grew weary 
And just saw strife

I tried to clasp, 
The wind and sail
But the galloping waves
And the tearing gale…

I tried to mount, 
My thoughts on steed
But every thought
Was struck and it did bleed! ! 

I tried to tread, 
With the crowd rampant
I was clenched, and I gasped
In the crowd nonchalant! ! 









I raised my brows,
 To catch the long straight street
But it showed me just
A fragment of it! ! 

I tried to ti, e 
The chords of despair and hope
But nothing could mend
This broken rope.

I dropped down battered
In pieces, in shards
Narrow hopes all cleaved

                                  All reveries marred.

It was the mirror
I saw till then
The truth, its twin and…
Betwixt a narrow glen! ! ! 

All this while
I played a child! ! ! 
Sporting folly, 
And reveries wild…

The Sonnet!


Life being the greatest labyrinth remains the most alluring question to every single soul who owns this cursed possession!! Is it not obvious?? It is a gore... a painful sting yet it is fragranced, enticing and the most fluent poetry… so artistically concocted and designed… a series of melodramatic events… yet carrying the beatitude. Every moment in this sojourn holds its own significance, every single minute has a lesson to impart and every head that throngs this vastness has a tale to beget. The garrulous hours of mirth and togetherness toddle away with amazing briskness while those sordid wailing void moments drag through us with painful tardiness… leaving us in tatters…. ugly and fragile! But does it bring with it the death…. a stagnation…. or just a hiatus?? No, it does not… it is just the way we perceive the facets of this coin which speaks innumerable tales….. the time cascades down like a capricious brook… and so does life in the abruptness and the sublimity of time.
Life frolics about…. and often plays the clown… cold and profaned… making mockery of itself and playing a ludicrous role…. but soon these shoes are lost and worn by some other feet… giving this clown a ‘Taurus’ to play!!! This is the sonnet…. and the perfume of life……

Saturday 10 November 2012

The Blessing....

The morning rays crouched into my little room breaking through that profound slumber…. and I lay awake on my cot. The timepiece which beckoned me to slip into my regular schedule stirred me to quit the bed and head towards the basin which uglied the corner of the room. Squeezing out some toothpaste on those distorted strands of that antique brush of mine….I hastened towards the casement… and craned my crest out through the window to catch a glimpse of the neighborhood and those beautiful red flowerswhich adorned the balcony that stood straight in front of my window ensnared me once morelike every morning….but the balcony….was desolate and lonely as ever!! Life had been idle for her, the owner…. for the past few years….muted, deafened and paralyzed!!! The rocking chairthe little balcony….and her dire plight had been the most persistent possessions in her lifetime. A life of virtual recluse….desolation amidst the garrulous crowd….and a perpetual numbness!!!This dour visage of her blearing life got uglier and ghoulish with each growing hourwith each passing day and the call to eternal sleep seemed to be her final destination….the accursed old age. It had been a day when she was young and agileteeming with vigor….and beauty…..but all those possessions had been reduced to smithereens….and who would love to tame a dead flower??? Not even him….who she had mothered for the bygone 25 years….played, chided and loved with an unfathomable intensityher son!! People disown responsibilities….and every responsibility seems onerous….a sordid truth of life….and more squalid is the bitterness which the growing years bring with it….a dark smut indeedand then 'Death' wears the apparel of a Blessing!!

Thursday 8 November 2012

The Silence


Long 4 years, and we had not spoken a single word to each other. In fact 4 years and 2 months. Ah!! I was counting, incredible. Is he not that abominable darn thing whom I detested the most…..as if we were the worst foes in this earth? Yes we were….. and it needs no evidence to evince the extremity of abhorrence, because it was evident from the fact that we had not shared a single word since that day. ‘That day’ was 24th of May. A day which gave me one of the worst blows which I ever had, revealed the ghoulish visage that he nurtured beneath that robe of amiability and gentleness and gave me a lesson to carry on along my life. Well this is not a hyperbole. This is the impression that I have tamed since that day!!! Three months did I take to slither out of the impact of those grotesque wordsthose rebuff… and those loathsome stares as if I were some repugnant creature. So clean and pronounced in my mind!
This bitterness in the complexion of this relationship was not hostility….neither was it a revolt. It was just the speechless Wrath. Perhaps this was the only explanation!! We sat two desks apart, dined at the same table, came by the same office cab and not a single soul amongst the others, knew that we could have pictured each other so well, better than anyone else!! Those memories though tarnished by the rust of time, do sometimes rise up to the surface and fill the eyes with a drop or so of those briny tears…..but nay…..no tear for the worst foe!!!
This ‘He’ was not just a mere acquaintance. He was the best friend, the guide, the brother, an idol of reverence and affection and…… an obnoxious wretch in disguise. Those sultry summer evenings of the eternal long summer vacationsnot a single day passed when those thin hairy legs pushed in through that heavy Iron Gate, walked on that ruddy pavement, came up on the verandah and rested himself on those broad mosaic window sills. That was the usual place of the regular rendezvous. Sometimes the venue shifted to the room adjacent to the verandahit was the living room!The minutes went by and the hours slithered away, maybe an hour or more, in a snap…..with a pair of tea cups, no he preferred coffee more...and incessant discussions. These were debates on topics of relevance…..and irrelevance, from the terrestrial frame to the extraterrestrial one, from sensible deliberations to utter baloney. Those peals of laughter of innocent mirth….and swinging the legs as the hands of the clocked ticked away!! And this was a resurrecting event of every day of every vacation. This playful amity of two kids…. but all of a sudden it was gone, declined in a wink…. but why? The cause??
I had made incessant efforts to play the ‘Sherlock’ but all in futility!! Why the sudden upheaval?? Why the uncanny evasion???? And it injured me… a million times. The 'why' had seeped down into the crevice of pastand what remained now was…..nothing. No anger, no grudge, not even the reason of that brawljust a handful of debristhen why the silence?? We often passed glances of awkwardness and discomfort….but it was time we shuddered this of ourselves.
We seated ourselves as we usually did. Worked as if we did not take notice of each other and it was true!!Was it really so? No it was not…….I had been lying all this while. I had just been enduring….and patiently to keep myself away from the beast. But was he not the best friendwho pulled me out through every bitterness….chided me as if he were my father...and had held me with a promising firmness in the darkest hours.
The ruddy golden sky passed a flicker across the room. It was time to retire. There was a rush and the rest were hurrying. I winded up those few papers lying on my desk and tucked the files inside the drawerbut with a consciousness. It was the determination to break that ‘spell of silence’. I tilted my head a little to take an account of him..but he was gone! I stood up with a jerkand scurried out of the office…..and he stood still waiting for the cab. Measuring him and pondering over my impatience…..I gradually made my way towards him with steady nimbleness….positioned myself beside his short statured frame....a couple of minutes passed away and then ten….. and then fifteen. No I will not! I should not!! And I stepped back. The cab came blowing its hornand we departed. Was it the trepidation? Was it the wrath again? Or was it mere reluctance that prevented me?It was just the egotism, which He and I had nurtured for the last four years. How could have we let it disappear in a flicker of the moment? Would it not have been sheer obstinacy? Ah!! God I am saved.