Saturday, February 23, 2008

Genesis

The neon signs flashed brightly through the mist.
It was a commercial street that had
Pubs, restaurants and a variety of stores strewn on either side.
Everyone had called it a day and the shutters were down,
Only the street lights and the neons were fighting it out for glory.

A long shadow accompanied a Priest as he passed by.
Wearing a cassock and a book with golden cross embossed.
He walked down the street with his head slightly bowed.
Returning back home from a sermon at the Church.
This was the usual route and the time was past twelve.

Turning around a corner he entered the dark alley filled with warehouses,
Street lights were dim and huge trash cans were dumped on the sidewalk.
Walking down the lane he saw a car stop in a distant corner,
A dark, lean image stepped out and rolled a garbage bag from its boot space.
He heard the wheels spin as it accelerated and fled out of sight.

Passing by the trash cans he saw something move,
It was the black polythene garbage bag,
And from it came some moans in pain.
Nearing the black bag he squatted and examined,
Untying the rope around its mouth he was taken aback by what he saw.

A brunette with an eyebrow pierced and curled hair.
Duct tape stuck over her mouth with scars on her forehead.
Her eyes were smudged with mascara all over.
Hands were put together with the help of a fuse wire.
And an expression of shock and pain was etched all over her face.

The priest freed her hands and tore the bag open,
Tears welled from her eyes as she lay there perplexed.
Without even wasting a minute she took the tape off her mouth,
Gasped for breath, coughed and sobbed,
But the priest’s face had turned white as though he’d seen a ghost.

He lifted her up and put her on her feet,
They stepped out of the gloomy street,
On the way went to an old cemetery that also had a park.
She cleaned her wounds in the fountain,
Washed her face and quenched her thirst.

She sat down on a stone bench
As she had no strength to walk
The holy man sat beside and offered his hand kerchief.
Not even a single word had the holy man spared,
But the girl cried bitterly and had a story to share.

She confessed to him as they conversed,
That she was a streetwalker,
Who attracts the lustful lot by walking the streets.
Living in an old wrecked wagon few miles away,
That was just a changing room cos she hardly stayed over there.

All she had was her flesh to trade,
For the hungry who had money to spare.
She had a void which men lusted for every night,
But not one knew it wasn’t a physical one,
But it was the hole in her soul that could be filled by no one.

It was two days back and it seemed like any other night,
She stood by the road when she was picked by a maniac.
Seldom had she known what it would lead to,
Until she was tied and tortured in a dark room,
She realized she was now a sadist’s prey.

Deriving pleasure from her screams and wails,
He played with her as though she was a voodoo doll.
For hours together he tormented her till he was tired,
And finally stopped when she could no longer respond.
Poisoned her with a syringe and put her in the garbage bag.

The moment she said that she was poisoned,
A corner of her lip turned red as blood oozed from within.
The priest stood up to get help,
But she held his hand, refused the offer and said it was too late.
Told him to sit down calmly and be there till she slept.

Finally, she told him her last wish,
“Pray for me would you, I’ve been a bad girl all my life,
Never paid heed to what momma said
And played on my own terms, till she left for good.
Now I repent for those broken homes and hearts I’ve left behind”

“Bury me not where others also rest in silence,
For once I want to sleep alone and catch up on all that I lost.”
“Be it so” said the Priest and assured her with a verse
‘He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds’.
“Now rest my child you still have a far off place to reach
cos this isn’t your end but just the beginning ”.
And carried her away as she closed her eyes and fell into eternal sleep.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

By the river


On a stone bench, by the river, I sat.
Indulged and lost in the evergreen smiles
of the trees on the river side.
Not one had a frown,
Neither had one dried and turned brown.
As it had made way sinking its toes in the river’s route,
Blessed were they from the top most branches to the root

The river moved forth roaring in search of its destiny,
To the wide blue ocean through the nearest sea.
While the trees stayed calm and swinging with the wind,
At a place where they’d destined to be.
Birds flew over my head looking down up on me.
Yet I looked up to them hoping
That someday that’s how I wish to be.

Fishes made way through rocks and weeds,
And hid beneath them quickly,
Whenever they saw birds flying low with pointed beaks.
The river gave way to ripples on its surface,
As I skimmed some pebbles.
The oil-on-canvas reflection disrupted,
And returned to form in just a couple of seconds.

If I had my scribble pad,
I’d have opted not to scribble.
Perhaps, set sail a fleet of paper boats,
That would set out on a voyage without oars.
Fortunately or unfortunately it wasn’t so,
And now that moment is captured from memory,
Onto my scribble pad, which you’re reading right now.

Monday, February 11, 2008

The road never did end

The road never did end
A gentle kiss on his forehead,
And I stepped aside.
Standing by his bed,
I stared at his closed eyes as he slept like a newborn.
Though deep within, he battled for his dear life.

I couldn't believe myself I was here at this time,
Not even in my dreams had I seen this scene.
He once was my friend whom I loved a lot.
Though it wasn't that long ago,
it felt as though we first met the day before.

Every third word in his conversation was speed,
All he knew was to ride the winning streak.
Racing against time, risking every moment of his life,
Zipping over tarmac, breaking the speed of sound,
Skilled in the craft and adroit in every trick he performed.

The college road played the venue for his act,
While every one of us cheered his brave heart.
His bike was his most sought after partner,
It seemed like he and his machine were Siamese twins.
And everything else seemed second to him in life.

It was the night before valentine's when he proposed to me
While he dropped me back home.
I said yes without even thinking twice,
And he told me to be ready the next morn,
And promised to take me on his bike for a long ride.

The night seemed longer than ever,
the sun played the fool around and delayed to rise.
And just one thought pondered in my mind all night long.
Though he had a million to choose from,
I was proud to be the one he wished upon.

That morning did come and the sun shone bright,
I was at my best after messing up my wardrobe.
On his machine the man did arrive,
while I sat looking patiently outside the window.
Though I'd seen him this way before, today he looked special.

With arms around him and tresses flowing in the wind,
We rode into the horizon leaving clouds of smoke and dust behind.
I just hoped the road would never end.
Nor did I want the wheels to halt or even stop for gas.
Every time he accelerated I could feel the adrenaline rush.

Just when I could grab him tight,
He received a call on his mobile.
With the mobile between his shoulder and ears,
He bragged to his friend about our date,
while I admired him looking into the bike's side mirror.

Before we could realize a truck came from the opposite side,
I did notice but I guess he couldn't react on time.
The moment went blank and not a thing can I recall,
I've no clue what happened, perplexed, next to him I stand.
While my body lies lifeless on a bed on the other side.


Scribbled in Public Interest.
Request to readers: Please don't use your mobile while riding or driving.

Keep it rollin;)

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Iris

Holding onto a chocolate bar,
She sat on a stone bench gleefully.
With chocolate smudged all over her lips,
And fingers coated in dark cream.
She was under the spell of sheer indulgence.

Right beneath the great banyan she sat,
The sun frowned as she was out of his sight,
Kids merrily played around,
A few on the swings and some on seesaw,
While the rest queued up to rush down the slide.

But she sat still, completely at peace,
As the dark clouds moved in from a distant corner,
Eclipsed the blazing sun and hovered over.
The sun went into hiding and let them take over,
They brushed each other’s shoulders giving way to thunder.

Sensing some kind of commotion she lifted her gaze skywards,
Took her last bite from the bar of chocolate,
She dusted her hands and stepped out of the shade.
Spreading her arms wide, she mimicked the old banyan,
When a droplet kissed her forehead and slid down her face.

It seemed as though the heavens watched, in awe, without haste,
They waited for the lil damsel to finish her chocolate.
After which they showered, over her, a drizzle light,
And heeded to her wish without thinking twice,
By painting a rainbow on the canvas called sky.