And The Becoming

Half-lit lights on the empty lane Blur vision with a salted taste Bare chest and folded hands Blue pants soiled in the sand Faint smile and eyes so moist Besiege by that blissful voice Fingers entangled in others Smell warmth as I move close Taste of the saline on your lips Touched cords inside that ring Waves stood as alibi to the time That night you were only mine

An offbeat tune of an unsung song was whispering in my ears. Wacky and crazy as it was, it rendered some embellishment to a dead site which until few weeks was just an ordinary house. The tune was echoing pangs of agony and despair, clubbed with an absolute sense of alienation with my own being. I was getting consumed by this vast emptiness that comfortably had spread itself in the house. With each passing moment my sanity was getting compromised, leaving behind a meaningless existence at the brim of its decay. Uncertainty of time and day seemed liberating to this obsolete lump of flesh which continued moving into an elusive blankness. An intricate work of fainted lines was surfacing on the skin, while my mind was still held captive to the new design. Notions, reasons and ideas no longer were allowed to cross the barricade. Faith in the end slipped away from the hand, and hope instead argued its way in. This hope which grew in the land of destruction only could have thrived in the da...

She was certain of the time but no way could have been certain about the fate that was yet to unfold. Past the grounds of reasoning, logic, or calculation, imagination alone was her guide on this journey. There was neither confusion nor fear; but another feeling of a distinct taste was building up inside her. This time she was more rehearsed and had paid attention to the minute details in rectifying errors made in the earlier attempts. There was little time to pack her reminiscences from the past, and incidences from the present. Aware of the heaviness of this baggage she could have easily chosen to leave all of this here. Yet, decided otherwise. Without her experiences of her being, there was no becoming. Sitting by the window Kalsi was staring into the vast empty grounds, scantly inhabited and strikingly silent; and the row of tall eucalyptus trees along the street swayed gently towards their right. In the field, lone stood a painted wall bordering a construction site with piles of...

The eighty-eight crystal pieces beamed together in concurrent circles, hanging from high-rise ceiling. Fine threads of colour inter-woven in intricate and appealing ways decorated the edges and bordered the top. In a mysterious way the small opening at the apex - allowed the rays to reflect from the crystal onto the many glass lamps positioned in the hall-way. Orange, yellow, and maroon chimneys of the lamps resting on the silver metallic body guarded the flame and casted coloured shadows onto the opaque floor. The faint fading colours from the chimneys blend into many shades, giving a life-like appearance to the immovable objects. The dark-red bordered silk cloth innocently paved the way for the calligraphic verses from a hymn on an off-white base, framed in glass, adorned the right wall. There I was sitting alone on a yellow teak-wood cushioned couch in this enchanted hall. Beside me, there was a large porcelain vase with blossoms of blue and purple orchids neatly coordinating with...

I woke up at the knock on the door. There were three knocks at irregular intervals. There was the first one, plain and simple, and then the second, within a fraction of a second, similar to the first one, a bit hurried though; then a long pause. The pause continued to grow intense and longer, almost enough to engulf the previous two sounds. And then it came, bolder and louder. It had a distinct feel to the sound. Panicky and alarming.  I waited for the fourth one. By now, I had watch in my hand; counting the time lap, between the last and the one expected. Silence continued, and so does the wait. But didn’t I mention, there were exactly three knocks, the forth never came. I was disappointed. I really wanted to hear the fourth knock, and record the intervals. I could have used this data for building some hypothesis, on knocking and time lap; and its significance to urgency. I was so disappointed that I didn’t feel like checking on the door but then, what about the curiosity buildi...

He was staring at the face sitting opposite to him on the dinner table, a familiar and well-remembered face. For last twenty-one years he had seen this face, but of course today it looked different. There were these sharp markers of time on it and he wasn’t sure how many times this face must have changed from the one he thought he remembered from their first meet. Maybe it changed every day but he never noticed it till now; the distinct aspects of that change. For one thing, the colour of the eyes remained the same, but then the association had changed. He tried really hard to imagine how she looked when they met for the first time, she must have been young, with no grey hair or blemishes. He really wanted to see that face for one more time, but there was no remembrance of it anymore. He was desperately trying to dig into the grave of memories to give life to his imagination. Well, it was only imagination that could save him now, after a long time of strangeness, memories only br...