Thursday, May 29, 2008


With each passing second, the pallor on his face was building up. His body was shriveled due to dehydration. He had been rocking in the water, with his upper half on a feeble wooden board, for more than three hours. But now, he was loosing his grip. Gravity was displaying its dominant force, and pulling him downwards pitilessly. His legs were growing flaccid. He knew he didn’t have much time.
That’s when he saw a boat, wandering. And in it, a man struggling to maneuver it.

Finally! I could direct him till here, and then lead us both out of this hell!

But as his luck would have it, a floating debri struck him at his midriff, throwing him off the board…

Three hours ago::
The man in the boat rose. He appeared dazed, recuperating from the shock to which he had been subjected. It had occurred so abruptly! The crash.
He recalled crying out for help. The whites had ruthlessly thrown him out of their life-boat and had sailed their way to the rescue-team, leaving him lone and unconscious on a similar boat.
He wiped the blood off his forehead, exposing the injury on his painted skin; and stared at the vast sea, bedecked by the shipwreck. He placed his hands on some regulator and pulled a string. But only more water gushed in.

How, in the world, is this thing operated!

He played with some gear, and sent the boat on an aimless path.

After hours of driving around without any sense of direction, he gave up. Tensed and overwrought, he looked around.

Ain’t there nobody in here?!
His weary eyes inspected the scene and soon spotted a movement!

Hope ‘ts some fella’ to run this damn boat!

He fixed his gaze at that point, and it didn’t take him long to concur that it was a man’s hand. But he froze. The hand was a white one! And that was all he saw. He became deaf to the man’s howl, and blind to the fact that the person could have been a potential rescuer. All that he saw was a “white” bleeding arm, and a “white” shuddering fist.

‘ey there! Row it! Towards here! Towards here!’
‘.m….going down….it fast…row it…here….!!!’
The board had sunk, and with his legs completely limp by now, he was scarcely able to keep his nose and mouth above water. He flew his hands in air and called out to the man in the boat for help.

White! I ain’t gonna save a white! Huh.

He turned away and, in order to gain momentum, pulled the string so hard that it came off to his hands. This time, the water surged in with a startling velocity. He faltered, and the boat flipped.
His cries were swallowed by the saline poison. And as he drowned, he saw the white hand fall down and then float. He too, in no time, was gulped down; and lost his life as a vengeance to the universal humanly inhumanness.

The fear of death, which sheds all barricades, failed to peel off their skins. But it united their spirits. Black and white amalgamated and rested in the only divine azure of both the worlds.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

The Silhouette
Attached to the city’s cathedral was a missionary house which, by the looks of it, manifested nothing less than a palace. As the dusk arrived, the weather outside was growing sullen, quite in accordance with Kamala’s disposition. All the lamps were out, save the ones on the staircases.
Mother Rosemary vigilantly stepped into one of the rooms, holding fast to her lantern.

‘How is she now, Sister?’ she asked addressing Sr. Joyce in her customary poised tone.

‘I just now only returned out of her room, Mother. I am very much worried about her, and also double worried for her child. Until yesterday was she crying and crying, but today she has not expressed a word!’ came the answer, in a thick Keralite accent.
‘She refuses to talk to me also!’ she added, sounding fairly hurt.

‘Well her state of mind is such. We must understand. Poor girl!’

‘Even I am seeing the situation, Mother. But she is not even wanting to have a look at her child! That delightful baby! He is not deserving this!’

‘Sister, she is just a young lady herself and has suffered a lot. It is now our duty to take care of her child, just as we did while adopting her.’

‘Oh! How can a mother not bother to give a glance to her baby? I can not abide with such irrational behaviors! Already she has done enough damage and now she will—’

‘Hush!! You mustn’t speak like that! You very well know it wasn’t her fault.’

‘But she shouldn’t have gone there at such a late hour.’

‘How was she to know? She trusted him. We all did. So we let him stay…..’

It had started drizzling by then. Kamala gingerly moved across the hall. Without a source to guide her, she tripped a couple of times before reaching the terrace.
Then, there she stood. Alone and drenched. Drenched in the drops that brought down all the smog and burnt her very being. And it came back to her.., all of it. The sweet talk, the offering, the touch, and his face. That friendly old face. One that was never seen again, after that night.

Ah! Finally it is out. Now I’m free!

She had expected to be treated with empathy, but the condemnation which she received had accelerated her emotions to such a height that every impudent word uttered would exaggerate in her mind and burst!
Her eyes flared up, and she let out a scream. Only, it was mute.
She looked at the sky with eyes filled with terrorizing revulsion, as the rain continued to pour. Her mind was like a broken mirror, all the pieces reflecting the same design. A one-way escapade.

I’m free now. They can’t stop me.

The rain ceased, and silence clouded over. She stood at the brink, motionless, till she couldn’t endure the clamor of her own overflowing thoughts. She stood there, staring into the nothingness above, demanding an answer. And she moved forward.
A sudden bolt, and the silence was disturbed. She withdrew her step.

Huh! I can’t even do this, she cursed herself.

Overwhelmed, she decided to retrace her steps and headed back to her room.
On finding the door to the Prayer Room ajar, she went in. Even though she couldn’t see a thing, her hands were clasped in hopelessness and knees bent in submission.
And she cried. She cried like never before. She cried till she fell off the____.
Then she rose, took a deep breath collecting all the frustration that had accumulated, and exhaled. All of a sudden, something strange occurred. It was out of the ordinary. A beam of soft mystical light filled the room, to form a figure in silhouette. A familiar image of a woman holding her child to her heart.

What is this supposed to mean?
Petrified and bewildered, she gave out a shriek!

Mother Rosemary and Sr. Joyce rushed into the Prayer Room with their lanterns, only to find Kamala sitting in a prayer-position. Her dry eyes closed, and shivering lips chanting the same prayer, over and over and over.

“Hail holy Queen, Mother of Mercy. Hail our life, our sweetness and our hope. To you do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To you do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping; in this wail of tears. Turn thy most gracious eyes toward us. And after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb- Jesus. O, clement. O, loving. O, sweet Virgin Mary."

The glim was doused.

Thursday, May 8, 2008


The quill occupies
a quivering hand,
animates my thoughts.
Justice not done.

A distended heart cries,
to you it sounds
like another sound,.
The melancholy, unheard.

Each time you slip,
off your contour,
I blush.
A weakness disclosed.

Memories, soured
by stipulations,
You struggle to forget,
Wounds re-exposed.

For the unattainable,
I try,
And never tire,
Perseverance assessed.

My pain, never shared,
scrutinized by
your reproachful eyes,
Condolence missed!

Day by day,
I age.
The dead parts wither.
I wait.

Wait for the tears to taste sweet.