A factual fiction. |
RENDEZVOUS At first it seared like a stream of fire;the fluorescent light from the lamp above his bed; hopping on the dome in eccentric enthusiasm. The nexus between his eyes radiated as, a churning coal. Numbness had already devoured the shin and torso; with levity impregnating the innards. His tongue fiddled in utter daze, tasting something uncommonly familiar. Faintest of the faint memories chewed with smoke and pain..... heavy sulking pain. Hallucinations conceiving dilapidated steel steps, a faint turquoise hue.. and a thumb-less toe................... He saw smiling faces,, see-saws perched on fine sands,leisure-strolls all around him..,, and he felt himself smiling...... ; In the next eye-shut his cornea squinched against rising water filled with moraines and gravels ; his heart aching badly.... The subconscious mind screeched an alacrious moan that a heave of heart pump went amiss; clutching his lungs. Those half opened eyes resolved to block the incident light. He became lighter and lighter.. ; loosing sentience pulse by pulse... .. falling into complete darkness... . .......naught............. ...................................... ................................................. His cellphone beeped again. "[ 4:30 eve ... ? ] " "[ Zeet's.. ]" , he replied . That was how they texted each other. Like old telegrams, the alphabet packets of 160 bytes shuttled connecting them in minuscule sharing. This time too, that went as usual... The havens of blooming paramours like beaches, parks, cinema halls, lone churches stood alien in their love story. Nor those pavements, leafy pews or obscure classrooms could refuge them or friends advocating 'true' love with a good-at-heart wish of 'Happy Married Life' never existed beside them... Such a queer relation existed between them ....... too obsolete and possessive... But the factual evidence alludes; it was the best they could do to survive........... It is hard to burgeon in a college where one's father works as a teacher .... , rather hard it is to love a chick inside the campus... In such a ditch was he....,,,, to love cynically under the nose of his father... His mind was brimming in the love for her and the reins of control went too slippery.. ... Neha...... He first met her in an Arts fest.. , when they both shared the same echelon of assistance in a major imprecise event. The professional milieu around, connected them a dias of diligence and partnership; and a good, bright comma enkindling scope for the coming days....... Social networking brought them close ; to find their akin likes and dislikes, to share common inter-departmental gossips and introversive pasts.Spiced with feigns of 'by-chance-i-met-you' facets; scanty meet-and-greets relished the e-friendship to an unfathomable enticement ; and at a blessed moment with trees silencing their branches and quelling winds from malestorming the sands..,,, the ultimate '3' words of reverberation threw up from his throat ... just to unsettle the bails of her heart, where a furbished response was waiting... She replied, " I love you too " ... They both might have had doubts regarding the verity and veracity on the 'sustainable development' of love in and between their hearts.... But who cares.,,,, it is love... The most spendthrift philia inborn in all living beings..As soon as the venom of love infested them, nothing except one thing stood barricade between them.. And that was unflinching as AMBUJA cement....... fear.. "Dad is real strict. He always says, "Love is meant for shirkers", . At home, his hobby is to despise the couple hangouts ubiquitous in our college. " , surfing an anthology on some queer unknown sect, he confided to her in low voice under the dim lights of college library; making no eye-contact and bodily movements... "Did you say about us , to anyone?? to your friends?? " . " No... " ; he let out a sigh.. " The courtesy title of 'Lecturer's son' is a real blockade to many things. A hangout with dudes, unofficial mass-cuts, wear hipster dresses or even a loud, free talk in open.. , all those are precluded from me. Anything unconventional from academics gets him willies.... And God!! . if he hears I'm dallying with a girl,,, I'm done.................. But,, " " But what ??? ". she prodded him. " I can't stop loving you..... ", their eyes met for the first time in that bibliotheca ..He kissed on her forehead and without a cue , marched out,, smiling.. It requires a heavy quality mind ; a patient soul, to curb the urges and billows of love. Surrounded by callous braggarts amoring with bully guts and ultimate confidence, the feeling, 'why can't me too? ',, resurfaced on him oftentimes, in sheer derision. But she untangled him out of all trifle cobwebs .. ; an asset renowned by him ; an angel of rehab.. she was ready to wait and to be patient till the interlope of 'Lady Luck' into their ducks. But they managed to cud-chew their love.. The interstices during class hours saw them leap out to grab fresh air and darting to the tree-pinned junction or the book depot, or near the dispensary ; places that couples wouldn't find healthy . The nonchalant masquerade on his and her facets called in very few doubtful eyes; they talked in loud and gibberish English, seeking an allusion from the bystanders; ' they are just friends.. '... . Quantification of the time they talked held poorest reckons and caused a major concern in their minds,, but they were happy,,symbiotically gleeful. ........... And on a day of unusuals ; an evening when Prof. Govindaraghavan asked his son to leave alone as he had to loaf out in the staff meeting, the disguised lovers shared their impulsive and imminent joy, also launching a feasible rendezvous in the shortest words possible, through Short Message Service.. At the bus bay, he met his friends; the sardonic mockers.. " Here comes the professor's lad.. "; " Hey Sid, you bunked your dad's class ??.. " " Yeah, tha class in a gaudy Ford.. voila..!!!! ". He greeted them and theirs with an unblushing smile as usual and moved in steadfast soberness abstaining any tints of excitement and instinctive fuss. He gawked that man,, stretched flat and pristine on burnished teakwood, atop the Church. The man seemed a little indifferent... She was embellishing her visage; just prelims of the art glitteratti ; when she saw him transposing across her hostelry.. ' Too fast !!, ' . He caught a rickshaw to the most populous and fabled mall of the city ; 'Zeet's Quadrangle' that housed the best posh mercantile ; branches of Central banks, outlets of branded garbs, gaming hubs, acrid restaurants, ala cartes, ateliers etc. He doubted how much covet this place could be, but it seemed an authentic choice to refuge a little while in such a narrow time slot. Also , he wanted to get her a gift; something simple and transitory that would go unnoticed among her ruddy-eyed friends. " [Couch, in front] " ; he texted her for precise appointment. His legs tapped on the ground frequency and he kept on oscillating his eyes from the watch to the phone. ' Don't be late this time, sweetie.. ' Beside his couch was the kid's corner; a small plot bedded with sand having prototypical slides, swings, toys and see-saws which would fetch the mothers a lot of time to surf in the mall without their children's hitching pranks. There was a lone pretty girl in the precinct, riding on a toing and froing wooden horse. She looked at him, smiling and blinking her eyes. " Where's you're Mom ? ", he asked returning a smile back. She pointed to a hifaluting woman inside a cosmetic shop, busy flirting with the incredulous salesmen. Both dilly-dallies grinned in unison. 4.45...... 15 long mins, he had got couched. 'Damn it. ' His tapping frequency had risen high. Few joined him on the couch and later, left. The girl was still puckering there; changing her niche to the slide with rollers trabeated on to the frame. 'Its getting late.., '. ; he decided to call her. Looking the girl playing on the slide he dialed and waited ..... .... . . . . She cut the phone in the third ring. He let out a sigh; ' She is close.. ' . He turned back to replace him, when he saw that.... ................ .......... a glimpse . . a narrow vignette of perception. . . A purple Ford Figo ... , moving into the parking lane. He couldn't espy those numbers on the platen but the font, and that blurred indelible on the front glass vaguely simulated a MICKEY MOUSE which he saw traveling with his dad in their car. 'Was that dad ??? '. A staff meeting won't go off-beat in such jiffy. It had been only 40 minutes; he saw him off at college. 'No, its not dad... ' . 'What if that dumb meeting is cancelled???? ' .. He caught himself in the cobwebs of skepticism. She would reach there at any time. ' God !!.... Don't do this to me... ' . Haunted in a motif of flimflams, he fiddled in the couch; he wanted to run out and check if it was dad, or to steeplechase and hatch her away; to cover himself somewhere out of dad's sight; to call her or to text her, 'GET LOST' ....................... ..................... But he opted to stand still for a second... .. . . . . . . . . . A beeeaaautiful snapshot.. !!!!.. ......... Watchman at the gates ushered a charming rebecca; in verdant salwars ... An obnoxious middle-aged face entered through the burglar circuit in the doorways... The nystagmus of numbness.. , a razzing zenith of perplexity .. too naive and too outlandish .. ' Dad ..??!!.. Neha . !!... Are you guys kidding ???? '.. He swaggered in an unabashed fashion and hid in the opaque of a beam. He tried to text her, but couldn't muster focus at his fingertip... .. 'F**k.. ' . The girl in between her child-play, saw his camouflaging stature. She got down the slide and hid behind iron steps; bestriding to him. He smiled.. , giving a quip.. ' Its not the time to play, milady.. ' The professor moved in slow steps towards the escalator;... she fiddled in long steps in the main hall searching for the couch he mentioned.. ; he waited in impatient patience for his dad to escalate.. .. Exotic silence peered his aura.... a calm caress.............. Then it happened........... ,,,,, when his dad stepped on the running stairs..; when he keeked to snatch a sight of her... ; when their eyes met for the last time......... ... The protuberance flashed out first from the bridged pond. . . Sallow water ... .. .. . first engulfing her ... . ..and then his eyes . . . . It seemed , .. a train hit directly at his trunk . . . Eyeballs squinted in pain, still struggling to open . . His innards knuckled badly; from head to toe, bile and blood in oodles at the nose and teeth . . Bludgeons and bastinados recurred in unison, articulating continuous transgress of his bones................. ........... The impact peeled his skin off, and floated him a few yards aback.. Moans and groans everywhere... Screeching sound of falling debris poked his wounds in tease. Rabid feet, clomped aimlessly across him; the mob squealing out names and lames at their highest altos.., louder than the detonation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . It was a bomb .. . . . . .. . . Killing the pain encroaching brutally all over his body, he tried to open his eyes smeared with pallor and ashes. . . . . .. . Black smoke hovered above his head , Heat radiated towards him from the four sides, incubating his senses to loop on breathing . . . His neck pained helish ; but he tried to move it . . . and saw that little girl to his left. ; dusted . . . grey all over her body .but.. . . breathing . . . 'She's breathing . . . . She.. ??? .. Neha?? Dad.. ?? '.. A recap of thoughts tunneled through his eyes; a breviary of beforemath . . . Forcing himself to the bombed-out ground, he clutched the whole pain to the teeth and held to a large chunk of concrete, surmising an erect kneeling position. Decayed aggregate perforated his calf but he endured ... He looked at the escalator . . .. . . . . . . . . and saw broken gears and aprons unfolding their cohession . . . There wasn't any sign of his dad.. . or any living isthmus .. ' Dad . . . . . ' . The faint gaze fidgeted towards the main patio; where he last saw her .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oblivion . . . . ...... ......... ....... ...... ............ Red heat bodies churned like hot metal...Blood stains rampaged the floor and lifeless, deadwood human grotesques lay stacked, one above the other; simonised by stone and cement. Sallow fire moved from one across the other licking each with its hot tongue . . . . ' Yummy . . . . ' ; he could hear its grotty vox . . . All of them looked alike. . . . . Black . . . . . . . . . Pitch black . . . . Neha rested among them , , he knew that... She had lost all her charm . . her grace, , her voice , , her chastity . . . ; her forbearance . . . . . . . . . . . . . She had gone.... For the first and last time ,,, fate showed him.. , , his favorite vision . . . ,,, Dad and Neha.. together . .... Poise of his mind and hand went loose; slumping back on the ground he took a choking breath . . . He tried to get up again but saw his left foot without the thumb . . . the sight gave him an apoplectic bang ; biting out the minuscule consciousness pushing himself into black iniquity... darkness . . . . . . The girl sat beside him, playing with a doll. He saw his foot bandaged clumsily, allowing no clearance for his thumb. The pain had abated; drugs and threads salvaging those scathed lesions . . . His mother was talking to the doc, her sunken eyes revealing Dad was no more . . . . Another woman; probably the girl's mother, peeled off apples.. . . Noticing his eyes opened, the girl smiled . . . the same smile she gave him at the mall . . ,,, But he couldn't reply her.... His smile was lost . . .and so, his soul . . . . It had died there, in the mall . . . . . . . . . . a helpless, shameless demise .. Closing eyes , he prayed to God ;; .. 'let my soul rest in peace. . . . . .' .. LAMA SIGNING OUT .. ................................... |