A Stranger

A Stranger

A Truth,
stranger than
A Fiction,
truer than
A Reality,
more fictitious than
An Imagination,
more real than
A Friend,
more imaginary than
A Stranger.

When truth is a stranger, real love ceases to be true, and true love is not real anymore.

When truth is a stranger, real love ceases to be true, and true love is not real anymore. This one of the many phrases that were swimming in and out of my head from the jumble of different words dropped in there like alphabet soup by fleeting glimpses of paperbacks whipped up all around me. Not that I mind it, the white noise was the perfect prelude to the deafening roar of the engines as the plane took off. Take off; the moment never fails to exhilarate me. There are very few experiences that every time thrill you like the first time, no matter how many times you've been through them before. In that moment, when your guts are almost pushed out of your back, all the chatter ceases. All you can hear is the roaring of the engines, and you're one with the plane, and everyone else in it. Try catching faces of fellow passengers, not so strangers anymore. Everyone, is holding their breath, waiting to exhale, metaphorically speaking.

As the plane prepares to land, after circling the airport umpteen times, I look out of the window. I see little matchboxes running down the highway and wonder, where they all are going to. I wonder, if anyone of them is looking up at the sky, the underbelly of the plane and wondering about the high flying strangers. I wonder, if anyone of them is wondering about me, the way I am wondering about them. Soon the plane lands and strangers come together once again, waiting to pick pieces of their lives off the belt. Unluckily, mine is first one and am on my way, unsaid goodbye to strangers I never knew. I catch a cab and as it drives down the highway, a plane passes overhead. I wonder, how many of them are coming home and how many running away from one. But most of all, I wonder, if any stranger up there is wondering about me the way I wonder about them? What if, someone in that plane right now is staring down at the top of my cab and thinking about me?

*******

"Told you, it would take at least two hours from the airport."

I try to sneak a look at the yellow post it which has become stuck to inside of my jacket before it becomes obvious I don’t even remember her name. I greet her, using her first name, which once upon a time would have surprised me. I try to locate her face, in the mail she mentioned she was in same school as me. I don’t even try to scrape away dust of all those years from her face to see if a familiar face is hidden within. Am just glad to have a place to stay for couple of days in this city.

I enter the living room of her apartment and first thing that hits me is... I haven't even exchanged any courtesies. Once upon a time would have been very unlike me, but now, I don’t even try to correct the situation. She also doesn’t mind, but goes on about the traffic problem. I look around, as she talks about the venue for my presentation and how early I will have to start to reach in time. Her demeanor is of one who is friend from a long time, or, someone who has attuned to monotony of a mechanical life and is in no mood to waste time in trifle obligations of social behavior. I am not sure which is a more comforting thought of two.

Pastel shades on the walls. Cubist paintings strive for wall space with fake Mayan relics. Tables and desks devoid of any furnishings save for a small photograph. I walk upto it, its her with a little girl, who must be her daughter... a certain memory stirs in back of my head, but not for long.

"I'm going for my run. There is the bathroom, the refrigerator is in the kitchen over there. If you feel hungry there is some pasta that you can microwave for now. In case you need anything else, don’t call me. You're smart enough to figure out on your own"

It’s only when she leaves that the sudden silence in the living room tells me how she been talking all the time. I go to the shower, water is too cold. I play around with the knobs to set the right temperature, not warm enough. SO I turn on the water heater and wait for sound of water bubbling.

Strawberry. Apricot. Peach. Pink. Blue. Translucent. Pearly white. Black. White. Cream. Black. Black. Red. Black.

The colors and flavors that you find in a woman's bathroom. Face wash, loofah, bodywash, shampoo, lingerie, towel, face pack, moisturizers, body lotions... similar colors, similar products, but different combinations found in different bathrooms. I take a deep breath. There is always an overpowering aroma, above all others. Peaches. I smile, could never have guessed. I pick up a magazine from the rack, put it back and pick another. Time, National Geographic, Forbes. I smile again. Just when I thought I'd figure her out, another curve ball comes my way. The water heater beeps. Nothing more comforting like hug of a warm shower to make you feel home, comforted.

*******

I drop on the couch in my T-Shirt and shorts, with over baked pasta in one hand and remote in another. Somehow I can't eat without some noise around me. I flipped channels for a news channel, not for new, but coz they feel as if someone is around, talking to you. I ignore the news and stare at the Mayan spear on the wall next to it as I take first spoonful of pasta, not bad. Just then the door rings. I open it without even checking for who it is.

Her gray sweat shirt is... well, full of sweat, more so around the underarms and can also see a outline of her breasts. She is panting, number on elevator tells me she took the stairs. She starts talking about the traffic on streets and a colleague of hers who comes for walks in her car the moment she comes in. Remote is still in my hand, I switch the TV off.

I turn around; she removes her shirt and throws it on the couch. I can see the scar on her stomach, caesarian and the stretch marks on the underside of her left breast which remind me very much of a photograph of Ulluru I once saw. I head for the couch and pick up my pasta once again. As she turns I see another scar just under her right shoulder blade. Deja vu. I burnt piece of cheese almost makes me throw up, but I shove it back. She goes to the bathroom. I head for the kitchen, to grab myself some orange soda, nothing washes down taste of burnt food better. When I come out, she is in the living room, putting on another sweat shirt, rusty shade of red, her back to me. I poke the paste for any more traces of burnt cheese and the moment I look up she turns around suddenly and...

Time stands still. Inches away, my nose form her forehead. I see the bleached hair on her upper lip stand on their ends. I become aware of a shivering chill running down my arm. We both hold her breath. She is looking down, not talking anymore. We can hear our hearts beat, even as sounds of next door kids entering the elevator try to drown them. I feel my guts pushed to the very end of my back, and somehow know it’s same with her. Somehow, in that moment we're one, both of us, waiting to exhale.

And then she looks up, straight into my eyes.

Stop!

[ The End ]

I Wonder... almost

I Wonder... Almost

a companion story to A Story Called Almost by supriyad... almost

I wonder... about the pass that said By invitation only, to a valentine's day dinner, candle light and your favourite Jazz band... the pass that I almost hid somewhere under a stack of clothes in a well-tended wardrobe, a surprise that almost was. But the pass was killed by two cute fluffy rabbits hugging each other tight, on a Valentine's Day card with a hallmark song shining on pink bubble hearts... a card from you, but not for me, wasn't it meant to be?

A black smudge scars the red, where first tears of a dying heart were shed.


I wonder... about the song I wrote for you, of laughter and smiles and our times together. But it drowned in the rain... waiting for you as it saw you smile and hug your friends, but you never came... and we, were never the same.

Unsung memories flush down a drain, where euphoria is another victim to pain.


I wonder... about the kiss that never came. I turned and blinked, capturing an image of you in my mind... waited for you to turn and run to me. You didn't turn, you didn't run. I saw you staring back at me, from the mirror of your pretty dresser, that look in your eyes... rusty knives and icy spears, pinned your image to back of my head.

Sepia withdrew and red has gone, where colors go to die alone.


I wonder... about lost moments. If you ever noticed who I really was... past who you thought, I was, always there. Hopeful, you'll be greedy for more, for all you were yet to find... that it can never be enough, when love is all you want. But we lost, each other somewhere on the way, for I turned around, but you were not there... anywhere.

In the middle of nowhere... lost, where forgotten ways come to a crossroad.


I wonder... about the times I felt, driving away from home, your touch, as wind ran through my hair. A sad smile lingers, at the whiff of whispers of a ghost in my ear, revealing your secrets, that I never hear.

Stuck in throat a laughter that chokes, where flagging dreams strangulate all hopes.


I wonder... about the day I almost told you, how I lost everything and owned nothing at all, nothing, but you... ? But before the words could rise up my throat... they choked, they crackled in the dry cold... aching for a drop of promise that never came.

Ruthless mirages of a barren land, where the oasis are nothing but castles of sand.


I wonder... about the stories I found, written words scrawny, crawled in haste... stories of love, unrequited... gone to waste.

Undead love's memory departs, where zombies bleed from broken hearts.


I wonder... about the things I said, about real feelings in your imaginary head. Was it a lie meant to deceive, times when you said you believe??? Believe in me, and my love... kissing under mistletoes and turtledoves? Believe in love, beyond distance and time, logic and reason... a higher faith for every season?

Angels and demons are all the same, where love is condemned in God's name.


I wonder... about the home I built, where we could be together and never leave. Our most beautiful dream come true, a labour of love, for me and you. I'd kiss you everytime we fight... a kiss that would set all right. For that was the dream we always had, but dreams of imaginary kind, were all you wanted... and left me alone in an empty house, cold, blue and haunted.

Delusions take the guise of dreams, where cries of help are terrifying screams.




I wonder... about the fortune teller's lies. It wasn't a dream... almost.

The Golden Astronaut

***DO you believe, in... Innocence? ***

"Bhaiya..."

"Uhh..?"

"What is that one called?"

Young eyes followed the chubby lil fingers, pointing at the night sky. The young head tilted a lil to its right, then to left... trying to get the alignment right.

"It’s Orion, the hunter. You see, those three stars are its belt..." a belt of dusty brown leather filled up the gaps in the boy's eyes, "...three faint ones below it are the hunting knife..." with a rust brown handle, in a black leather sheath, "...and that's where his head is", fingers made the outline of a rough triangle and imagination filled in the head with long hair tied with a brown headband.

"Looks more like a butterfly to me..." the lil girl said, too sure to be apologetic, yet... her eyes seeking confirmation in her brother's eyes.

The young boy looked at her sister, lying down on her back on the tiled roof. She had her head turned at an awkward angle to the right. He smiled and turned to look at the dots he had always connected to find the hunter, only this time choosing to look the way his lil sister had just taught him.

"You're right... it IS a butterfly... like you." he couldn't hide the amazement in his voice. She couldn't hide the joy of triumph in her laughter, she always wanted to be a butterfly. He turned to look at her, her eyes brighter than any star shined back at him. But they were extinguished by the furious noises coming from downstairs, mom and dad fighting, again. He knew they were heading for divorce, and this might be last time... he shrugged the thought away from his mind as he saw her eyes well up and her shiver in the cold of the winter night.

He crawled up to her, and threw his arms around her, and hugged her... real tight. He could feel the sobs aching to break out.

"You know why we can't see stars during the day?" he tried to distract her.

"Yes." she said, wiping away tears that never came, smiling.

"Tell me." he sounded a bit surprised.

"You know, how you pull back curtains to wake me up in the morning, because is difficult to sleep with light on your eyes? So, earth's bhaiya also puts a blanket over her eyes every evening so that his lil sister can go to sleep. But you know, the blanket has all those tiny holes in it. What we call stars, are nothing but light sneaking through those tiny little holes in the blanket called night."

He thought of correcting her, but her eyes shone with more stars than ever present in the night sky, making him doubt if he really knew better than her. So he turned his gaze back towards the night sky, trying to see it in a way he had never seen before.

Swoosh. A star shot by. Swoosh. Then another. A smug grin spread across boy's face and he turned to his sister, "So, what are the shooting stars then? Can the holes move?"

"They're the light of the day that sneaks in, disguised as fireflies." she said as if it was too obvious a fact to be even explained. The boy couldn't help smiling again. She had her eyes closed and hands clasped in a prayer, she was wishing on the shooting star.

"What are you wishing for?"

"I am not supposed to tell" she said, but her hand reached for his comforting touch. And when she clasped it tight, he knew she didn't want to go. He searched the sky, for another shooting star, so he could wish... wish that they won't be separated just coz mom and dad were, but he couldn't find one. Tears welled up in his eyes.

And before he knew, there was a storm of fireflies, sneaking into the blanket... a meteor shower. And in middle of it all, a comet with its icy blue tail trailing across the sky. She squealed in delight. She got up, standing on her toes, reaching for the comet, as if trying to catch it. And then, the tile under her left feet gave away.

The tile slid across the sloping roof and crashed into the concrete below. The little girl fell on her back and followed the tile. Rest of the tiles followed in succession, like feed mechanism of a machine gun, falling one after another.

The young boy's eyes clouded by fear and tears, his own screams seemed to come from too far away. He carefully went to the edge of the roof, peered down. She was staring back at him. Blood had started to spread out, staining her frock in a deep shade of crimson, it spread out on either sides of her, white tiles falling into the puddle. Through his clouded eyes, she looked like a butterfly, crimson butterfly with white dots on her wings. Her lips were moving, she had a smile on her face. He could hear her voice in his head, she was saying something, but he couldn't understand... except for one word...

"Butterfly"

*******

** DO you believe, in...Co-incidence? **

"Time to wake up."

"I want to sleep." I shut my eyes tight and sink back to my bed.

"No bhaiya, its time to go to work. You must get up." she pulls the curtain away from the windows. I look at her.

"You know what time it is?" her lips don't move, but I can hear it in my head. I look around. Am in my room, it’s bathed in a bright white light, so is she... so radiant. The room looks just the way it was when I...

A pungent light hits my eyes. I open my eyes, look around. Out of the circular window I can see the sun emerging from behind the outline of clouds hovering over Australia. I push myself to get out of bed and float to the ceiling. Someone looking in from the outside would say I fell down in slow motion. That's the thing about space, directions are so relative.

"Now that's like my bhaiya." The voice in my head says. I smile, can't help it.

I swim to the wash bay and stare myself at the mirror. Pick up the toothbrush and squeeze the paste a bit too strongly, it starts to float around. If I don't rush, it will start splitting like a unicellular life form. Thankfully, it comes to rest on the mirror, and before it can figure out which direction to take, and whether to split up or not, I scoop it up. As my brush races across my mouth, my mind tries outpacing it.

They say when people die, they... drift away. Free from bonds of flesh and gravity, they return to space... wander about like ghosts, waiting for a speck of cosmic dust to latch on to, so that they can become, a star. But they are lucky ones... most just float around in space, the vast nothingness. Some catch asteroids or meteors passing by, in hope they will carry them to a cloud of stardust. But most, just wander about in space. Space... you can call it the biggest graveyard... every thought imagined, every word spoken, every idea conceived and every soul born drifts in it, till eternity.. or till it fulfils its cosmic destiny.

"You missed a spot over there." her voice tells me.

I've been on space station for hundred and eight days, twenty three hours, and sixteen minutes... forty two of those days all alone by myself, and counting. I am supposed to tell mission control about voice in my head when I give my daily report. But she tells me I don't need to. I listen to her, coz she's always right.

It was on eighth day alone I first heard her. "Butterfly".

There was a small rupture in the oxygen tank on East wing Level 2, too small to be detected by high precision sensors. Four useless hours spent in trying to locate the source of leak was driving me to the brink of insanity. It was then that I heard her voice, saying it ever so softly in my head... "Butterfly", still it seemed to have some external spatial origin. I followed the voice and it led me to the leak.

Being alone, many times I've found myself facing situations I wasn't prepared for, that being part of the experiment. Each time, she's helped me. Many times she's given me advice that seemed illogical, irrational... even life threatening. Each time, I've followed her against my own wishes. And every single time, she's been right.



But all that, is about to change today... or is it?

*******

* DO you believe, in... Destiny? *

"Don't be afraid. Everything will be alright. Trust me." she says.

I take a deep breath.

Few hours ago an asteroid shower damaged a major part of the thrust boosters on the right wing, in fact severing one of it from the main body of the station. I had instructions to fire those very boosters to steer clear of the shower's path, but she told me not to. Minutes later a huge rock went past where the station would have been if the booster had fired. Now it was upto me to spacewalk to retrieve the booster and plug it back in before the next shower came, else years and years of hard work put by many will be lost in a moment.

As I put on the suit, I don't feel its weight, maybe too tense and scared. I check the cord, it’s secure. I open the exit hatch, and jump out into the space. I fire the jetpack to steer myself towards the boosters. As I move away from the station, I suddenly realize, it looks like a giant butterfly in the sky. I reach for the boosters, inches away from it, when am suddenly pulled back.

"The station doesn't want you to let go, its pulling you back" she tells me. The chord is too short, the booster has drifted too far away. I am sweating now. "You must let go, it’s the only way."

I see in the distance, a big rock approaching, and a trail of asteroids in its wake.

"Don't be afraid. Everything will be alright. Trust me." she tells me.

I take a deep breath and severe the chord, it stands still for a few moments, as if waiting for me to reconsider my decision, and then pulls away. I fire the jetpacks to reach for the booster. A small blinking yellow meter tells me I don't have enough fuel left in the jetpack. I don't know what to do, so she tells me what to do. I relay a message to mission control, explaining what I am going to do and then disconnect.


I maneuver to the booster. From behind the booster I can see the robotic arm on the right wing, ready to 'catch' the booster, all I have to do is steer the booster towards it. I rest my feet on the booster, bend my knees and push the buttons to fire the jetpack at full throttle... exhausting all its fuel in one go.

What happens when you die in space? Arthur C Clarke once pondered over that question... rather over ghosts of astronauts who die in space. But he never had the perspective I had. I see the booster tumbling towards the robotic arm, ready to catch it. Newton's third law, pushes me further away, right into the path of the big rock. I am going to die.

It is then that I heard her whisper in my head, clearer than ever before... "Butterfly". And it is then, that I see her.

It isn't just a big asteroid, it is a comet, with an icy blue tail. My jetpack runs out of fuel, not that it matters. I stare into the comet, heading right for me. The sounds of boosters firing tells me space station is already steering clear of it.

Blinding white light is reflected off the face of my helmet and am back at the roof, staring down at my sister. This time... I can hear what she is saying.

"I wished for us to be together, always. I wished, to go to a world, where none would take me away from you. I wished, to be a butterfly. I am going, in search of such a world. And one day, I shall come back to take you with me. Remember me, whenever you see a butterfly."

And suddenly the crimson wings catch fire... and she rises up in the air, wings of fire. She herself radiates white fire, and as she flies an icy blue trail behind her.

She is rushing towards me.

The spacesuit begins to cackle and tear away... the helmet melts away... like cocoon, a pupa.

Fire rages through me as my back arches and all of me is set ablaze.

She comes and hugs me.

I feel pain, no more for I am fire itself.

A butterfly with wings of golden fire.

Red rocks whiz past us, like cosmic rose petals, falling down to earth.


Somewhere on earth, a young pair of siblings stares at the cosmic fireworks. A lil girl notices a pair of fiery butterflies in the sky, ephemeral. And when they're gone, she can see a new star near head of Orion, the hunter, and she squeals with delight as she realizes... it’s not a hunter at all, but a butterfly.

DO you believe, in... Anything?

Reds, and Violets

Reds, and Violets
originally posted on requiem.sulekha.com

Note: This was supposed to be posted here before sulekha, but some access issues willed otherwise. Also, Hensel and Gretel sequel isup on sulekha, will be posted here as soon as I sort out some formatting issues.

I
Violets are calm,
Roses are violent,
voices choke,

memories mock,

Love turns silent.

II

Roses are red,

when love is true,

Juliet weeps,

Romeo bleeds,

Love turns Blue.

III

Red dawn pines,

Violet dusks mourn,

a silent song,

painfully long,

A Requiem for Love long gone.

The Dark Angel, Her Prayer

The Dark Angel
I
Her Prayer

You know who I am. But how you know me depends on who you are. I am the truth that stares back at you whenever you dare to look deep into the mirror. If not, then I am the lie that you refuse to see when you stare into her eyes and ask her if she loves you. A true reflection of the lies you live, or the lies reflected in her eyes you believe. An ugly truth, a comfortable lie. I've lost the count of times my body has lied to a man as his asked me if I love him.

But this story is not about any of us. This story is about a little girl, the little girl I once was. No, that lil girl doesn't stare back at me in the mirror, for she is long gone. An innocence lost forever, never to return to indifferent world. This is the story of that little girl.

And of the dark angel who took her away, never to return.

*******

She ran down the long corridor on the second floor. She hurried down the stairs, paused briefly as she looked around and then headed for the window. She sneaked out of the window into the backyard. She ran towards the perimeter wall and went down on her knees and elbows as she made her way out through a small hole in the wall, she had seen many a rabbits hop around the backyard and go through that hole.

Once on the other side she got up, brushed dust off her baby pink pyjamas and started to run again. She kept running till she she could hear nothing but her own heavy breathing and a stray cricket here and there. Crickets! She looked around, suddenly she realised where she was. Anyone else would have frozen in fear or be brave enough to scream. But all that she managed was...

"WoW".

Everyone knew you were not supposed to go into the woods. The woods were just beyond the walls of the orphanage. No one ventured near the woods, even during the day. But she was a little girl who wasn't afraid of the dark woods. In fact she wasn't afraid of anything. She was fearless in ways only the innocent can be, their biggest gift, their fatal curse. That's why when she realised where she was she was amazed by her own feat as by the fact that it looked so beautiful.

The crescent moon shone through canopy of the leaves above her. A calm breeze rustled the leaves, wolves howled somewhere in the distance and she couldn't see her hand in front of her. But she could see a pair of glowing eyes in the dark. The eyes came nearer to her and gleaming white fangs bared themselves, she didn't move an inch. A low growling echoed around as a few more pairs of eyes appeared around her. Soon she was surrounded by a pack of wolves from three sides. As she turned around the wolves growled louder and she stopped dead in her tracks. The wolves inched closer, their intentions dripping from their fangs. Anyone else would have frozen in fear, too scared to even scream. But she quickly turned and ran.

She could hear the wolves following her, gaining on her. And just when she thought they would be upon her, something strange happened. A wolf fell down with a loud thud. She turned around, she couldn't see any wolves, but hear them whimper. A whipping sound, a rush of wind and she briefly saw the wolves cowering away before the were again blotted out by darkness.

She looked up, from where the whipping sound seemed to come. She realised she was in a clearing in the forest for she could see the black sky and the stars at its periphery. Suddenly the stars seemed to move inwards and take up their place in the empty dark sky. It took her a moment to figure out what she was witnessing, it would take few more to sink in...

"Are they wings?" No reply. But she was sure he was folding his wings. She couldn't see him at all, but knew when he moved for that part of sky and forest seemed to go black. "Are you an angel?" Still no reply. But rustle of leaves told her he was moving away from her. A similar rustle of leaves told him she was following him. He stopped, so did the rustling sound. He turned around, she was smiling back at him.

"They are wings, aren't they? Can I touch them, please? I've never touched wings of an angel."

"I am no angel". The breeze suddenly went still. The crickets went silent. Suddenly a dead calm took over the forest, a frozen dead calm. The lil girl seemed to be the only one not affected by it. She went ahead and touched his half outstretched wing, glistening black leather. Her fingers followed the trail of cold black blood to a small wound. The wing shuddered at her warm touch, a sensation they had long forgotten. Reflexively his hand grabbed her wrists. She winced at the cold steely grip.

"Sorry" he apologetically let go, staring at his hand as if it was no longer his, the warm sensation felt so unreal.

A couple of fingers touched his forefinger and curled themselves around them. Soon his finger was in grip of her tiny hand, a grip far stronger than of any demon he had fought in the depths of hell.

That is how the lil girl met her Dark Angel. And that is how an angel outcast from heavens met his lil angel. That night he walked her and they talked all the way. She told him she was playing hide and seek and lost her way in the forest. He told her he was also lost and searching for a way home. Her innocence and love filled him with hope. When they reached the edge of the woods dawn was about to break in the easern sky. She wanted him to come with her but he refused. He couldn't step out of the woods, definitely not into the light.

"The light burns my wings".

"When will I see you again?"

"Whenever you need me."

"Promise?"

"Yes." And with that promise he spread his wings, rose and flew back into the dark forest.

And she watched him fly away. Finally she turned and the imposing orphanage and its cathedral seemed to rise like a behemoth. She waited for first rays of sun to paint the horizon red before she went back in, steps heavy with trepidation.

******

Later that night that lil girl wrote a prayer, a song for her dark angel. Words that went with her, words I don't remember. But few days ago I heard a song and that was what triggered all these memories that made me write this story.

Will tell rest of the story later. I got kohl streaming down my face and tears are very bad for business. I have to remove all their traces and get ready for next one. Need to turn off the lights. I'll put the song on and you can listen to it. Maybe you will hear that lil girls cries that I never heard, that no one heard. No one, but her Dark Angel.

Angel - put sad wings around me now
Protect me from this world of sin
So that we can rise again

Oh angel - we can find our way somehow
Escaping from the world we're in
To a place where we began

And I know we'll find
A better place and peace of mind
Just tell me that it's all you want - for you and me
Angel won't you set me free

Angel remember how we'd chase the sun
Then reaching for the stars at night
As our lives had just begun

When I close my eyes I hear your velvet wings and cry
I'm waiting here with open arms - oh can't you see
Angel shine your light on me

Oh angel will we meet once more - I'll pay
When all my sins are washed away
Hold me inside your wings and stay
Oh! Angel take me away

Put sad wings around me now
Angel take me far away
Put sad wings around me now
So that we can rise again
[ Judas Priest - Angel ]

[ the story concludes in - The Dark Angel, His Promise ]