He stood there, hands thrust deep into his coat pockets, facing the sea while watching seagulls ride the chilly November wind. He shivered in the wind. It was only 4 o’clock but the sun was already setting, casting golden streaks of light across the foot of the sky. He marveled at the beauty that lay in front of him; blue expanse punctuated by the white caps of the waves tinged in gold. In the face of such beauty, he felt the loneliness make the biting wind feel even colder.
He shrugged his shoulders, turned on his heel and walked away, footsteps crunching the gravel. He walked up the mound, past the deserted playground towards the ruins of the ancient Cathedral. The sea seemed to mock him, the faint squeals of the seagulls overwhelmed by the crashing waves reminding him of his tiny significance in the grand design of his life.
He had begun work at the largest firm in the country at the behest of his parents, who believed his presence in their business adversary can only profit their business empire. Somewhere along the way, he had met this pretty young thing that turned out to be the big man’s only girl; and, desperate for an heir, the big man fast tracked a whirlwind romance that came with a high speed corporate elevator rather than ladder. At his parents insistence the romance became a wedding, and before he could even wonder if he had found the woman of his dreams, he was heir apparent to the biggest firm in the country in return for the perpetuation of lineage.
The true side of the woman he married came out on his wedding night; by morning he had already found himself alone in his bed. She had an insatiable hunger that he could never in his mind imagine could exist. She had no use for him other than to feed that lust; and he had found it in the worst way possible with the scars on his back and bruises on his neck to prove it. On his wedding night he had failed miserably; and instead of being a worthy adversary, he had been cast aside, his spirit broken, his passion snuffed.
As he stood on the cliff, overlooking the sea awash in orange grey light, he realized he was trapped. He wanted to end his loneliness with lifelong companionship; and the angel that fell from the sky was the angel of death. While people end their nightmares simply by waking up, his was something that he cannot wake up from.
To his family, his being accepted in the biggest family empire made allies of an enemy to their own formidable empire; to his new inlaws, an heir; but he was caught in a trap, a small, meaningless pawn about to be traded as a queen. And he realized that reaching the end of the board had just become impossible if not difficult; and if he failed, his new family have enough influence to ensure that he will never ever be employed again.
He shivered slightly as he peered over the edge of the cliff, watching the brine explode into white spray as it smashed itself into blue rocks; swirling and exploding, dragging everything with destructive fury.
As darkness descended, he relived the longing in his heart; a high powered job, a huge house and a fleet of cars; a beautiful wife, a life to be shared, of hugs and kisses; of warm smiles and happy laughter.
He had it all, and he was alone.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Sunrise
He woke with a start to find the sun high in the sky and the light blinding him, his eyes screaming in pain. His head pounded. He felt numbed with pain, every muscle stiff. He became aware of the disheveled bedsheets, pillows strewn across the room. He was naked, save for a twisted strand of blanket across his thigh.
Head pounding even more, he propped himself up and pushed his feet off the bed. The room now started to spin as the blood rushed off his head. He struggled to remember what had happened.
His wedding party began to reconstruct in his mind. He remembered the sea of faces, smiling, laughing, bearing congratulatory wishes and gifts. Flashbulbs were incessantly popping, blinding him and creating a paparazzi trail as they followed his every move. He was weary, and he propped himself against the door frame to keep from falling as the stream of well wishers passed him, each offering the customary handshake. He vaguely remembered trying to keep his balance as he carried her across the threshold giggling and laughing.
Cold water on his face revived him. He felt stinging pain on his back as the water from the shower hit him. He stood with his back to the mirror and craned his head. To his horror, he found deep parallel lines on his back. He recalled the sudden pain he felt as she dug her fingernails onto his back. It had shocked him, and it killed his passion; It had made her scream in seeming frustration, expletive laden fury.
She had an insatiable lust. She was a wild animal that mercilessly chased its prey, tearing flesh bit by bit, enjoying the suffering as limbs were ripped off in an explosion of blood and flesh. And she had clawed him scratched him, slammed her pelvis against him till he felt no pleasure and no more pain; her forearm across his throat had choked him till really thought he was going to die. The struggle turned her on, and it fueled her passion beyond his imagination belying her demure exterior.
He couldn't remember much of what happened next, only in bits an pieces of her pounding-herself on his body, clawing him, tearing at his hair, biting on his flesh. He vaguely remembered her screaming at him, calling him a useless piece of meat, disappointed that he let her down and unsatisfied.
The bruising on his neck made him wonder if he had passed out. Painfully, he began to wonder the madness in him to marry this woman, the daughter of the richest of the rich; He had entered in to the kingdom of the kingmaker, and if he had ever naively thought of being the next maker of kings, the reality is that he was more likely the fodder of slaves.
Head pounding even more, he propped himself up and pushed his feet off the bed. The room now started to spin as the blood rushed off his head. He struggled to remember what had happened.
His wedding party began to reconstruct in his mind. He remembered the sea of faces, smiling, laughing, bearing congratulatory wishes and gifts. Flashbulbs were incessantly popping, blinding him and creating a paparazzi trail as they followed his every move. He was weary, and he propped himself against the door frame to keep from falling as the stream of well wishers passed him, each offering the customary handshake. He vaguely remembered trying to keep his balance as he carried her across the threshold giggling and laughing.
Cold water on his face revived him. He felt stinging pain on his back as the water from the shower hit him. He stood with his back to the mirror and craned his head. To his horror, he found deep parallel lines on his back. He recalled the sudden pain he felt as she dug her fingernails onto his back. It had shocked him, and it killed his passion; It had made her scream in seeming frustration, expletive laden fury.
She had an insatiable lust. She was a wild animal that mercilessly chased its prey, tearing flesh bit by bit, enjoying the suffering as limbs were ripped off in an explosion of blood and flesh. And she had clawed him scratched him, slammed her pelvis against him till he felt no pleasure and no more pain; her forearm across his throat had choked him till really thought he was going to die. The struggle turned her on, and it fueled her passion beyond his imagination belying her demure exterior.
He couldn't remember much of what happened next, only in bits an pieces of her pounding-herself on his body, clawing him, tearing at his hair, biting on his flesh. He vaguely remembered her screaming at him, calling him a useless piece of meat, disappointed that he let her down and unsatisfied.
The bruising on his neck made him wonder if he had passed out. Painfully, he began to wonder the madness in him to marry this woman, the daughter of the richest of the rich; He had entered in to the kingdom of the kingmaker, and if he had ever naively thought of being the next maker of kings, the reality is that he was more likely the fodder of slaves.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
the beginning of the end
Dearest,
I guess this note should have been written a while ago. In any case, anytime is a good time; there need not be a time to say the things that need to be said.
How time files. In a space of a short while so many things can happen, and events in our lives take a new meaning. When our paths first crossed, little could anyone foresee that the future that is now could so startlingly change. The first time we met, everything seemed forever; nothing could ever get in the way; our future, eternity. Little did we know that the happiness we sought is fleeting evanescence; like mists in the morning, bubbles in the streams, with all things, nothing is forever.
I would never have believed that our lives would be what they are today. Yet, at the same time, I can only say that what we have can never last, and what is wrong remains wrong, no matter how much we bend the rules to make it right. And as every day pass, we lie to ourselves that this is what we want, that this is what we will carry and this is the way it should be. But the truth prevails, that what we have is wrong; and we hurt the ones we love by carrying on the life we want to lead.
With this note, our lives have forever changed. Indeed, our lives changed irreparably even when we met. We had dreams, but I stand to believe that we both know that the dreams can never be true. But change, no matter how painful needs to happen to better our meaningless lives. We cannot go on living this lie.
We need each other so much in this life. No matter how much difference you make in my life, I cannot continue being part of yours. What you want I can no longer give, and what you have I no longer wish for. May you pursue your dreams without me, the weight that drags and continue to drag you down. While for me without you there remains nothing, and everything that I have today will no longer be mine; but the breath that I take is still the fodder for which I live. And I sincerely hope that without me you will find the means to fly, higher than before without the burden of what society expects from us, without the burden of keeping what society must not know.
When we first met, there was the light of the dawn, but many years on, the lights have turned to darkness and the burning has become glowing embers that become, slowly but surely, cold, dark ash.
Farewell dearest. May tomorrow be a new dawn. May the darkness that has prevailed be lifted with the rise of the new sun.
*****
He read and re- read the note in front of him. He'd drafted and re-drafted too many times already. In the bottom of his heart, he felt sure, yet, a tinge of doubt still prevailed. Should he?
He hit the "save" button as he had done many times before. He thought of the time he first met her, and smiled at the memory. His memory turned to how that everything he now owned, everything he lived for, was because of his marriage. He took a deep breath and hit "print". As he read his note a final time, he realized that he cannot go on. He signed the letter, sealed it in an envelope; green, her favorite color.
He grabbed his bags by the door, the only things that were his and placed the envelope on her pillow.
He paused for a moment as he stepped out of his house, feeling the morning sun on his face. The morning felt especially bright. He felt free.
I guess this note should have been written a while ago. In any case, anytime is a good time; there need not be a time to say the things that need to be said.
How time files. In a space of a short while so many things can happen, and events in our lives take a new meaning. When our paths first crossed, little could anyone foresee that the future that is now could so startlingly change. The first time we met, everything seemed forever; nothing could ever get in the way; our future, eternity. Little did we know that the happiness we sought is fleeting evanescence; like mists in the morning, bubbles in the streams, with all things, nothing is forever.
I would never have believed that our lives would be what they are today. Yet, at the same time, I can only say that what we have can never last, and what is wrong remains wrong, no matter how much we bend the rules to make it right. And as every day pass, we lie to ourselves that this is what we want, that this is what we will carry and this is the way it should be. But the truth prevails, that what we have is wrong; and we hurt the ones we love by carrying on the life we want to lead.
With this note, our lives have forever changed. Indeed, our lives changed irreparably even when we met. We had dreams, but I stand to believe that we both know that the dreams can never be true. But change, no matter how painful needs to happen to better our meaningless lives. We cannot go on living this lie.
We need each other so much in this life. No matter how much difference you make in my life, I cannot continue being part of yours. What you want I can no longer give, and what you have I no longer wish for. May you pursue your dreams without me, the weight that drags and continue to drag you down. While for me without you there remains nothing, and everything that I have today will no longer be mine; but the breath that I take is still the fodder for which I live. And I sincerely hope that without me you will find the means to fly, higher than before without the burden of what society expects from us, without the burden of keeping what society must not know.
When we first met, there was the light of the dawn, but many years on, the lights have turned to darkness and the burning has become glowing embers that become, slowly but surely, cold, dark ash.
Farewell dearest. May tomorrow be a new dawn. May the darkness that has prevailed be lifted with the rise of the new sun.
*****
He read and re- read the note in front of him. He'd drafted and re-drafted too many times already. In the bottom of his heart, he felt sure, yet, a tinge of doubt still prevailed. Should he?
He hit the "save" button as he had done many times before. He thought of the time he first met her, and smiled at the memory. His memory turned to how that everything he now owned, everything he lived for, was because of his marriage. He took a deep breath and hit "print". As he read his note a final time, he realized that he cannot go on. He signed the letter, sealed it in an envelope; green, her favorite color.
He grabbed his bags by the door, the only things that were his and placed the envelope on her pillow.
He paused for a moment as he stepped out of his house, feeling the morning sun on his face. The morning felt especially bright. He felt free.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Miss you like Crazy
He sat next to her, and sat quietly as he watched her type away on the keyboard. He said nothing, but quietly watched her fingers fly across the keyboard, as the cursor swept across the monitor forming letters that became words that became sentences.
He admired how she sat upright, elbows tight on her sides, her body unmoving. And as he reached out his arm and curled it around her waist, she turned her head ever so slightly, looked at him from the corner of her eye, tilted her head and curled an approving smile from the corners of her mouth. And he curled his arm even tighter, pulling him close to her, filling his senses with the smell of her perfume.
The click of the door brought him into the present, and he found himself staring at a blank document page on his notebook pc. Once again, he gave himself a long sigh. It was only half a day since. He wondered how longer it would take for the long weekend to pass by. It already felt like a lifetime, and it would be two lifetimes more before he would see her again.
He ran the tips of his two longest fingers on his keyboard, tracing the edge of his computer. He remembered how her fingers, traced the edges of her computer as they conversed. Her pinky and thumb straight out, middle finger slightly curled to match the index; ring finger curled, showing off the diamond studded petals on her ring. He remembered lifting the two fingers by their tips, stroking them ever so lightly with his thumb, as she watched till he placed them on his lips.
“Are you ok?” his secretary asked, yanking him back into the present. She reeled off his appointments for the day, wrote down all the instructions and walked off, leaving him alone again with his thoughts.
This new girl in his department had been occupying his thoughts quite a bit of late. She had been an avid learner and spent late evenings at his office. He had grown quite fond of her company and really looked forward to evenings with her. He was very much at a loss now. He’d sent her outstation for three days, but today missed her presence.
He fired up the company portal and searched for her name. He felt the sudden rush of excitement as the computer returned her status “on line”. Should he send a message to her? Would she think that he didn’t trust her to do a good job and had to keep an eye on her? The paranoia bemused him for a while; he was the boss, for god’s sake, and it’s his right to check upon the progress of his crew.
He opened the message window and pondered over his message. He typed “hello”. Perhaps that was too informal. He deleted that and typed a longer introduction. Too long. Too formal. He typed and re-typed, each time balking at the idea of making friendly conversation. Finally, he typed “Hi. Just wondering how you’re coping.” He took a deep breath, and hit “Return” to send it. Almost immediately the message window showed a reply being written.
“Boy, that was one long message,” came the reply.
“What do you mean? “ he asked.
“Well, you sent me a blank message, and just as I was about to ask, I saw that you were typing, and typing, and typing, and I kinda wondered what kind of trouble I’m in. For twenty minutes I saw you typing. I was really expecting some memo. ”
“Well, I had to be sure that I chose the right words carefully, you know, this being your first time out on your own.” He replied. “Wouldn’t do to discourage you at this point.”
And he could imagine that cheeky smile he had become so fond of when he read her reply. “Yeah, right. Like I don’t know you miss me. :)”
He admired how she sat upright, elbows tight on her sides, her body unmoving. And as he reached out his arm and curled it around her waist, she turned her head ever so slightly, looked at him from the corner of her eye, tilted her head and curled an approving smile from the corners of her mouth. And he curled his arm even tighter, pulling him close to her, filling his senses with the smell of her perfume.
The click of the door brought him into the present, and he found himself staring at a blank document page on his notebook pc. Once again, he gave himself a long sigh. It was only half a day since. He wondered how longer it would take for the long weekend to pass by. It already felt like a lifetime, and it would be two lifetimes more before he would see her again.
He ran the tips of his two longest fingers on his keyboard, tracing the edge of his computer. He remembered how her fingers, traced the edges of her computer as they conversed. Her pinky and thumb straight out, middle finger slightly curled to match the index; ring finger curled, showing off the diamond studded petals on her ring. He remembered lifting the two fingers by their tips, stroking them ever so lightly with his thumb, as she watched till he placed them on his lips.
“Are you ok?” his secretary asked, yanking him back into the present. She reeled off his appointments for the day, wrote down all the instructions and walked off, leaving him alone again with his thoughts.
This new girl in his department had been occupying his thoughts quite a bit of late. She had been an avid learner and spent late evenings at his office. He had grown quite fond of her company and really looked forward to evenings with her. He was very much at a loss now. He’d sent her outstation for three days, but today missed her presence.
He fired up the company portal and searched for her name. He felt the sudden rush of excitement as the computer returned her status “on line”. Should he send a message to her? Would she think that he didn’t trust her to do a good job and had to keep an eye on her? The paranoia bemused him for a while; he was the boss, for god’s sake, and it’s his right to check upon the progress of his crew.
He opened the message window and pondered over his message. He typed “hello”. Perhaps that was too informal. He deleted that and typed a longer introduction. Too long. Too formal. He typed and re-typed, each time balking at the idea of making friendly conversation. Finally, he typed “Hi. Just wondering how you’re coping.” He took a deep breath, and hit “Return” to send it. Almost immediately the message window showed a reply being written.
“Boy, that was one long message,” came the reply.
“What do you mean? “ he asked.
“Well, you sent me a blank message, and just as I was about to ask, I saw that you were typing, and typing, and typing, and I kinda wondered what kind of trouble I’m in. For twenty minutes I saw you typing. I was really expecting some memo. ”
“Well, I had to be sure that I chose the right words carefully, you know, this being your first time out on your own.” He replied. “Wouldn’t do to discourage you at this point.”
And he could imagine that cheeky smile he had become so fond of when he read her reply. “Yeah, right. Like I don’t know you miss me. :)”
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Shattered Expectations
She sat in front of the mirror, turned her head slightly and admired the make up. She tied her hair and braided at the top of her head, gathering them and letting them fall behind her head, showing off her smooth long neck. She wore long earrings and matching pendant that further accentuated her neck and an off shoulder Versace that made her feel like Venus. She imagined how he would look at her when they finally meet. He would stop in his tracks, take her hands in his, take a step back and look her over from top to bottom and fix his gaze on her neck, and on her breasts. She knew then that he would then bring her hands to his mouth, kiss them and let them go, and pull her close to him to plant a kiss on her lips. She shivered in excitement as she imagined his hand on her lower back, pulling her near as he cocked his head to one side to kiss her...
The phone buzzed with a text message.
"Chairman has called for an emergency meeting..." it said as despair filled her, "... not going to make it tonight..."
Her shoulders drooped forwards. She had been looking forward to this evening for many days now. Disappointed, she undid her hair, yanked off the earrings in a huff. She scrubbed off the make up and tousled her hair. Tears of disappointment welled up in her as she flung her dress across the room and threw herself on the bed and sobbed herself to sleep.
****
Incessant ringing. She wearily reached to her phone next to her and saw the same familiar number through tear-stained eyes. It was night now, and the room was dark. On the backlit display, she saw a long list of missed calls, voice messages, and text messages.
Yet again, she let the phone ring till it ended.
She dragged herself to the bath room and ran the tap with water. In the mirror, her hair was disheveled, eyes puffy and mascara stained. As she splashed cold water on her face, she became aware of knocking on her front door.
Through the peephole, she saw him standing there. She quickly grabbed a towel, undid the chain on the door and opened it wide. He stood there, worried look on his face, jacket bundled on his arm; the top collar button of his crumpled shirt undone and tie loosened half way down his front, cuffs on his sleeves folded back. He ran a tired hand through his hair.
"Baby", he said,"Are you ok? I won't know if you don't answer the phone."
"I thought you weren't going to come," she said.
" I really wanna see you" he said, looking down to the floor,"and I promised you I was gonna come, no matter what. I'm sorry it's a little late, but everything's done, I'm here and I'm yours tonight."
Without a word, she pulled him through the door, slammed it shut, and as the towel slipped to the floor she pulled him close and planted the long, long kiss she had so long imagined.
The phone buzzed with a text message.
"Chairman has called for an emergency meeting..." it said as despair filled her, "... not going to make it tonight..."
Her shoulders drooped forwards. She had been looking forward to this evening for many days now. Disappointed, she undid her hair, yanked off the earrings in a huff. She scrubbed off the make up and tousled her hair. Tears of disappointment welled up in her as she flung her dress across the room and threw herself on the bed and sobbed herself to sleep.
****
Incessant ringing. She wearily reached to her phone next to her and saw the same familiar number through tear-stained eyes. It was night now, and the room was dark. On the backlit display, she saw a long list of missed calls, voice messages, and text messages.
Yet again, she let the phone ring till it ended.
She dragged herself to the bath room and ran the tap with water. In the mirror, her hair was disheveled, eyes puffy and mascara stained. As she splashed cold water on her face, she became aware of knocking on her front door.
Through the peephole, she saw him standing there. She quickly grabbed a towel, undid the chain on the door and opened it wide. He stood there, worried look on his face, jacket bundled on his arm; the top collar button of his crumpled shirt undone and tie loosened half way down his front, cuffs on his sleeves folded back. He ran a tired hand through his hair.
"Baby", he said,"Are you ok? I won't know if you don't answer the phone."
"I thought you weren't going to come," she said.
" I really wanna see you" he said, looking down to the floor,"and I promised you I was gonna come, no matter what. I'm sorry it's a little late, but everything's done, I'm here and I'm yours tonight."
Without a word, she pulled him through the door, slammed it shut, and as the towel slipped to the floor she pulled him close and planted the long, long kiss she had so long imagined.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Moonlight
It was a cloudless night, where the stars were sprinkled across the sky like tiny diamonds. The moon, round and yellow, was bright in the hazy night, so bright, a dark halo formed behind it. Underneath, the sea shimmered in silvery streaks, reflecting the moonlight that threw itself across the sea.
He trudged on the sand, slipping and sliding towards the sea. Dressed in a dark shirt, he walked furtively, afraid that someone will see him in the moonlight. He felt the breeze on his face, and as much as he loved the smell of the sea, tonight he wasn't quite sure if what he was doing was a good idea.
She walked a few paces ahead of him, in a gleeful half run, like a child seing the sea for the first time. She had found a spot to sit down by the time he caught up. He stood over her for a moment as she faced upwards, eyes shut, smile on her face feeling the sea breeze on her face as she shook her hair, almost letting the breeze pass through every single strand. When she realized him standing over her, she opened her eyes, and flashing that beautiful smile that always captivated him, motioned for him to sit down next to her.
She sat on a small rock knees huddled together, facing the sea . He sat next to her, shoulders touching. He wasn't used to being this close to her, but caressed by the sea breeze and lulled by the lapping waves, he soon relaxed. The wind brought to his senses her nearness, and in the wind was the smell of her skin, adulterated by a tinge of long dried out perfume. It wasn't long before he reached his hand under his knees towards her and found her hand, waiting for his. They locked fingers together, thumb stroking hand, looking out to sea. As the night went on, conversation began to wind down, and as pauses became silence, they began to enjoy the sea breeze, and look at the stars in the cloudless night. They spoke in whispers, him whispering in her ear. In the midst of the whispers, he would steal a kiss on her cheek, and she would pull his hand, almost as if wanting him closer. She found her head comfortably on his shoulder, the warmth of his side on hers, and his hand, warm in her palms, gently stroking her hand. With his other hand he cupped her hands, and slowly began to move up her forearm in slow strokes, in time with the swaying waves. And as she did not resist, and as the stroking of her thumb began to follow in time with his hand, he moved his stroking to her leg, caressing it slowly to her knees. He realized then as his hand moved past the knee to her thigh, her breathing became slower til it followed the rhythm of his hand; her breath, now labored, was hot on his face. He turned to face her and found her looking steadily at him, and he had no chance to resist as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard on his lips. She had clamped her legs on his stroking hand, and she clawed her hands in his hair and she kissed him over and over, each kiss accompanied by a shuddering of her body pressed hard against him. Falling to the sand, he had found his hand under her shirt and on the smooth silky skin of her back; pressing her onto him as hard as he can he let her body release every single ounce of pleasure, while she ravaged his face with hungry kisses.
It wasn't till she stopped, her energy spent, that he let go of her. There they lay on the sand, she panting heavily into his ear as they both drifted into slumber, in the light of the moon; two bodies spent of their energies, like the calm after a storm, caressed by the gentle breeze and accompanied by the rhythm of the sea.
He trudged on the sand, slipping and sliding towards the sea. Dressed in a dark shirt, he walked furtively, afraid that someone will see him in the moonlight. He felt the breeze on his face, and as much as he loved the smell of the sea, tonight he wasn't quite sure if what he was doing was a good idea.
She walked a few paces ahead of him, in a gleeful half run, like a child seing the sea for the first time. She had found a spot to sit down by the time he caught up. He stood over her for a moment as she faced upwards, eyes shut, smile on her face feeling the sea breeze on her face as she shook her hair, almost letting the breeze pass through every single strand. When she realized him standing over her, she opened her eyes, and flashing that beautiful smile that always captivated him, motioned for him to sit down next to her.
She sat on a small rock knees huddled together, facing the sea . He sat next to her, shoulders touching. He wasn't used to being this close to her, but caressed by the sea breeze and lulled by the lapping waves, he soon relaxed. The wind brought to his senses her nearness, and in the wind was the smell of her skin, adulterated by a tinge of long dried out perfume. It wasn't long before he reached his hand under his knees towards her and found her hand, waiting for his. They locked fingers together, thumb stroking hand, looking out to sea. As the night went on, conversation began to wind down, and as pauses became silence, they began to enjoy the sea breeze, and look at the stars in the cloudless night. They spoke in whispers, him whispering in her ear. In the midst of the whispers, he would steal a kiss on her cheek, and she would pull his hand, almost as if wanting him closer. She found her head comfortably on his shoulder, the warmth of his side on hers, and his hand, warm in her palms, gently stroking her hand. With his other hand he cupped her hands, and slowly began to move up her forearm in slow strokes, in time with the swaying waves. And as she did not resist, and as the stroking of her thumb began to follow in time with his hand, he moved his stroking to her leg, caressing it slowly to her knees. He realized then as his hand moved past the knee to her thigh, her breathing became slower til it followed the rhythm of his hand; her breath, now labored, was hot on his face. He turned to face her and found her looking steadily at him, and he had no chance to resist as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard on his lips. She had clamped her legs on his stroking hand, and she clawed her hands in his hair and she kissed him over and over, each kiss accompanied by a shuddering of her body pressed hard against him. Falling to the sand, he had found his hand under her shirt and on the smooth silky skin of her back; pressing her onto him as hard as he can he let her body release every single ounce of pleasure, while she ravaged his face with hungry kisses.
It wasn't till she stopped, her energy spent, that he let go of her. There they lay on the sand, she panting heavily into his ear as they both drifted into slumber, in the light of the moon; two bodies spent of their energies, like the calm after a storm, caressed by the gentle breeze and accompanied by the rhythm of the sea.
Friday, November 14, 2008
The awakening
hissss..... click... hiss... click.
The hissing and clicking continued. Hiss.. click... There was bright, blinding light. Shadowy figures. hiss... click... The shadowy figures went about their business, and the lack of focus lulled her into darkness again.
Hiss.. click..
Her eyes adjusted to the light. Not so blinding now. The shadowy figures continued to move around, unpertubed by her presence. She tried to get attention, but her hands were like lead. She wanted to call out to the figures, but she couldn't find her voice. She became aware of something heavy dragging her jaw. She ran a rubbery tongue on her lips and realized a thick, hard tube pinching her lip against one of her teeth, at the corner of her mouth. She became more aware now, and the shadowy figures began taking color. They were dressed in blue, some faces covered in masks as they went about their business. She tried hard to remember where she was, but she felt drained. She was alive, yes, but oddly she felt detached from the rest of her. She could feel herself raising her hand, yet it did not appear in front of her face; and that hiss, followed by the click. What was it?
She began to feel painfully aware of her surroundings. She realized now that there were people around her, looking at her. She began to recognize some of them, but as the awareness began to flood her consciousness, she realized a familiar face missing. She scanned the room with her eyes, as far as she could, but it wasn't there.
Sadness began to well inside her as she realized that he wasn't there. Tears began to blur her vision as the memories began to surface. She remembered being afraid, wishing and waiting for that comforting voice, that warm smile, that look that told her she was not alone. She remembered the comfort she felt as he held her against him, stroking her back slowly, breathing in unison as he whispered slowly in her ears.
And she remembered how she fought back the tears when they couldn't wait for him any longer, and wheeled her into the operating theater, her eyes fixed on the door of her room almost wishing that he would come through the door after her.
And now, as she realized that the surgery was over, her vision began to blur as her tears once again welled up in her eyes. Not for the relief that its over, but that she hadn't had the chance to see him, and now, he isn't there to tell her its over. Almost as if to mock her, she began to become aware of a dull throbbing sensation, building into searing pain as her body began to accommodate the awareness now flooding her consciousness.
The hissing and clicking continued. Hiss.. click... There was bright, blinding light. Shadowy figures. hiss... click... The shadowy figures went about their business, and the lack of focus lulled her into darkness again.
Hiss.. click..
Her eyes adjusted to the light. Not so blinding now. The shadowy figures continued to move around, unpertubed by her presence. She tried to get attention, but her hands were like lead. She wanted to call out to the figures, but she couldn't find her voice. She became aware of something heavy dragging her jaw. She ran a rubbery tongue on her lips and realized a thick, hard tube pinching her lip against one of her teeth, at the corner of her mouth. She became more aware now, and the shadowy figures began taking color. They were dressed in blue, some faces covered in masks as they went about their business. She tried hard to remember where she was, but she felt drained. She was alive, yes, but oddly she felt detached from the rest of her. She could feel herself raising her hand, yet it did not appear in front of her face; and that hiss, followed by the click. What was it?
She began to feel painfully aware of her surroundings. She realized now that there were people around her, looking at her. She began to recognize some of them, but as the awareness began to flood her consciousness, she realized a familiar face missing. She scanned the room with her eyes, as far as she could, but it wasn't there.
Sadness began to well inside her as she realized that he wasn't there. Tears began to blur her vision as the memories began to surface. She remembered being afraid, wishing and waiting for that comforting voice, that warm smile, that look that told her she was not alone. She remembered the comfort she felt as he held her against him, stroking her back slowly, breathing in unison as he whispered slowly in her ears.
And she remembered how she fought back the tears when they couldn't wait for him any longer, and wheeled her into the operating theater, her eyes fixed on the door of her room almost wishing that he would come through the door after her.
And now, as she realized that the surgery was over, her vision began to blur as her tears once again welled up in her eyes. Not for the relief that its over, but that she hadn't had the chance to see him, and now, he isn't there to tell her its over. Almost as if to mock her, she began to become aware of a dull throbbing sensation, building into searing pain as her body began to accommodate the awareness now flooding her consciousness.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Caress
It was another of those stuffy company dinners, which he had long grown tired of. But he had to attend, as much as he disliked it, he had to pretend that he fully enjoyed it. And he had to pretend to be in love with this woman next to him, the very reason he became the symbol of success, but also the very reason for the tiresome night.
In public they were a very much adoring couple, they held hands, they stared into each other's eyes, but deep in each other's hearts, were hatred and pure dislike.
As the entertainment began and proceeded in front of him, he continued with this pretense of enjoyment; he rolled his head in laughter, clapped his hands in perfect glee; and he looked sideways at his wife, as if sharing the mirth.
The he saw her, across from his table, cupping her mouth with both hands as she laughed, head thrown back in glee. She was a picture of happiness. Her hair cropped short, short and shiny held in place with a diamante tiara, her smooth long neck accentuated by shoulder dusters hanging from her ears. She wore a silk versace dress that hung from her shoulders exposing the smooth white skin that ran down her long straight back.
He remembered stroking that neck, kissing it, each kiss moving lower down her neck as he undid her back of her dress; and how from playfully pushing him away, she began to let him continue, holding her breath as she struggled to contain the pleasure of every kiss. He remembered how she had held the tips of his fingers, caressing them softly, drawing his fingers to the mouth as she began to kiss each of his fingers. He remembered the warmth of her mouth, the fullness of her lips, and how he pushed back her hair from her forehead, dampened with sweat afterwards. Reluctantly she had gathered her dress together, covering herself as she pulled herself up from the sofa.
He smiled to himself as he remembered the smell of her skin, the scent on her perfume on his hands, the warmth of her body against his.
"What are you smiling about?" an icy voice broke his thoughts as his wife saw the dreamy gaze and the knowing smile.
In public they were a very much adoring couple, they held hands, they stared into each other's eyes, but deep in each other's hearts, were hatred and pure dislike.
As the entertainment began and proceeded in front of him, he continued with this pretense of enjoyment; he rolled his head in laughter, clapped his hands in perfect glee; and he looked sideways at his wife, as if sharing the mirth.
The he saw her, across from his table, cupping her mouth with both hands as she laughed, head thrown back in glee. She was a picture of happiness. Her hair cropped short, short and shiny held in place with a diamante tiara, her smooth long neck accentuated by shoulder dusters hanging from her ears. She wore a silk versace dress that hung from her shoulders exposing the smooth white skin that ran down her long straight back.
He remembered stroking that neck, kissing it, each kiss moving lower down her neck as he undid her back of her dress; and how from playfully pushing him away, she began to let him continue, holding her breath as she struggled to contain the pleasure of every kiss. He remembered how she had held the tips of his fingers, caressing them softly, drawing his fingers to the mouth as she began to kiss each of his fingers. He remembered the warmth of her mouth, the fullness of her lips, and how he pushed back her hair from her forehead, dampened with sweat afterwards. Reluctantly she had gathered her dress together, covering herself as she pulled herself up from the sofa.
He smiled to himself as he remembered the smell of her skin, the scent on her perfume on his hands, the warmth of her body against his.
"What are you smiling about?" an icy voice broke his thoughts as his wife saw the dreamy gaze and the knowing smile.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
The wait
It was a bright sunny day, and he was breaking out in sweat as he scanned the expanse in front of him. He tried to stay cool in the shade, but to no avail as the lack of trees in the empty construction lot made the place seem hotter in the afternoon sun.
Once again he mistook the passing car as the one he was looking for. Quite a bit of blue sedans these days, he thought. He got out of his borrowed car, a real banger that rattled and bounced on a straight road. In this neighborhood, a Kompressor would be extremely out of place, and to be recognized was the last thing on his mind.
He saw yet another blue sedan come by, but.. was it? He felt his heartbeat start to race. The car turned off the main road and entered the driveway slowly and towards him. It stopped a short distance from him and a familiar figure half alighted from the car. She saw him and stood there, holding the car door, standing on one leg with the other still inside. She flashed that smile he so loved to look at, and motioned with her head to get in.
He hurried to the car, after a cursory look around, dived into the passenger side seat. He slouched in his seat, hoping that no one can see him, as she pulled the car out of the drive way into the road.
She drove through the country road, occasionally peering at him through her sunglasses. It had been such a long time since they sneaked out like this, and the whole idea was rather thrilling, yet frightening. They drove off the country road, into the city street. She turned into a deserted part of town, found a cool spot and parked.
She turned to him and took off her sunglasses. He looked at her, admiring her face as she spoke. In breathless whispers, they conversed, trying hard to keep their voices down, yet unable to contain the excitement of being together. He held her hand and stroked it with his thumb, feeling the soft silky skin on his. He stroked her cheeks, and pushed away the sliver of hair from her face. He admired her baby smooth face, lightly made up. She hesitated for a moment when he leaned forward, then she closed her eyes and let him kiss her with long, loving kisses, caressing her lower lips with his. She let him pull her closer, his hand stroking the back of her neck, moving down her spine in long, broad strokes. She pressed her lips even harder on his, fighting the longing that she had for so long a time kept in check. She dug her fingers into his shoulders with every stroke of his hand on her spine, wanting more and more. And she ran her fingers through his hair, and stroked the sides of his face. She wanted more and more of him, yet at the same time she knew she should not. And she fought the mounting contradictions with every kiss, with every touch and ..
She pushed him away. He looked at her, surprised. She put her hand on his lips as he tried to speak. "please,... don't".." she said. He held her hands and kissed the tips of her fingers.
"what's wrong?" He asked.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning away. "I can't".
He listened in dismay as she told him how much she wanted to be with him, yet, at the back of her mind were painful memories of her recent past. He knew it was still too soon, the hurt still raw, yet as much as he did not want to admit, he wanted her. He could no longer stand just being with her. He wanted her warmth of her skin, the softness of her flesh. He wanted her in his arms and he wanted her eyes to be the first one for his to see. But she was not ready.
She fired up the engine and drove back in silence.
She let him out of the car, turned the wheel and drove off without looking back.
And he stood there, in the evening heat, watching the scattered dust settle.
He got in the car and begun the long journey home, feeling it longer than before, alone and feeling lonelier than before as the evening air carried the whiffs of her perfume on his skin and his ears the sounds of her love.
Once again he mistook the passing car as the one he was looking for. Quite a bit of blue sedans these days, he thought. He got out of his borrowed car, a real banger that rattled and bounced on a straight road. In this neighborhood, a Kompressor would be extremely out of place, and to be recognized was the last thing on his mind.
He saw yet another blue sedan come by, but.. was it? He felt his heartbeat start to race. The car turned off the main road and entered the driveway slowly and towards him. It stopped a short distance from him and a familiar figure half alighted from the car. She saw him and stood there, holding the car door, standing on one leg with the other still inside. She flashed that smile he so loved to look at, and motioned with her head to get in.
He hurried to the car, after a cursory look around, dived into the passenger side seat. He slouched in his seat, hoping that no one can see him, as she pulled the car out of the drive way into the road.
She drove through the country road, occasionally peering at him through her sunglasses. It had been such a long time since they sneaked out like this, and the whole idea was rather thrilling, yet frightening. They drove off the country road, into the city street. She turned into a deserted part of town, found a cool spot and parked.
She turned to him and took off her sunglasses. He looked at her, admiring her face as she spoke. In breathless whispers, they conversed, trying hard to keep their voices down, yet unable to contain the excitement of being together. He held her hand and stroked it with his thumb, feeling the soft silky skin on his. He stroked her cheeks, and pushed away the sliver of hair from her face. He admired her baby smooth face, lightly made up. She hesitated for a moment when he leaned forward, then she closed her eyes and let him kiss her with long, loving kisses, caressing her lower lips with his. She let him pull her closer, his hand stroking the back of her neck, moving down her spine in long, broad strokes. She pressed her lips even harder on his, fighting the longing that she had for so long a time kept in check. She dug her fingers into his shoulders with every stroke of his hand on her spine, wanting more and more. And she ran her fingers through his hair, and stroked the sides of his face. She wanted more and more of him, yet at the same time she knew she should not. And she fought the mounting contradictions with every kiss, with every touch and ..
She pushed him away. He looked at her, surprised. She put her hand on his lips as he tried to speak. "please,... don't".." she said. He held her hands and kissed the tips of her fingers.
"what's wrong?" He asked.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning away. "I can't".
He listened in dismay as she told him how much she wanted to be with him, yet, at the back of her mind were painful memories of her recent past. He knew it was still too soon, the hurt still raw, yet as much as he did not want to admit, he wanted her. He could no longer stand just being with her. He wanted her warmth of her skin, the softness of her flesh. He wanted her in his arms and he wanted her eyes to be the first one for his to see. But she was not ready.
She fired up the engine and drove back in silence.
She let him out of the car, turned the wheel and drove off without looking back.
And he stood there, in the evening heat, watching the scattered dust settle.
He got in the car and begun the long journey home, feeling it longer than before, alone and feeling lonelier than before as the evening air carried the whiffs of her perfume on his skin and his ears the sounds of her love.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Blame it on the Rain
"Please,... what are you doing?" She suddenly started. "stop it, please.."
They'd known each other for a year now. He was, in her eyes, the perfect gentleman. Well built, tall, finely chiseled features, he was like the Armani man. She literally bumped into him when they first met; they were at a street party. In the sea of bodies, she had been pushed forwards by the crowd, where she had lost her balance and crashed into him. Contents of her coke drenched his chest, and in the recoil, she had hit the drink in his hand also onto his chest.
In shock, she had stood there, hand over gaping mouth in horror over what had happened. But he had stood there, shaking his shirt, flashing a smile, and saying,".. I've always wondered what a mixed cocktail is like, well, I know, now!". In the flurry of "Oh My God! I'm sorry!' and the "its ok!" they got to exchanging names, and phone numbers and pretty soon it was e-mails, text messages and the like. And soon enough, he'd meet her after work, and they'd go out and spend time together. She found him to be decent, and liked him enough as a decent guy.
She'd call him for company, and he'd always make time for her. She felt good being with him, for he'd always made her laugh; she would find herself dreamily looking at him, watching the way his lips would form a smile between every single word that he would be saying. But of late, she had found him somewhat overwhelming. She tired of the way he would decide what to do, and she found that their conversations tended to be about him. She found her comparing him to her boss at work, whom she realised treated her differently and made her feel important. Where her friend brushed her suggestions aside, her boss listened to her every word, encouraging her and making her views count. In the beginning her friendship was an adventure, but she wasn't quite sure of it now. And she found herself drawn to staying late at work rather than look forward to spending time with him.
She had taken the day off and had called to meet him. He had turned up slightly later, and had been rather moody. He had suggested a movie, and despite her telling him she wasn't up to it, he bought tickets anyway. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable with all the accidental touching. At first it was the hand on the shoulder as he held the car door to let her in. Then his hand would accidentally touch her arm. And he had placed his his hand on the small of her back as he purchased the tickets. And through out the movie, more than once she had felt his hand on her thigh, and as she shifted uncomfortably, he would remove his hand, only to place it there again. Finally, not able to stand it anymore, she stood up and walked out of the theater.
"I want to go home. Now." she said. He tried to ask her to stay, but finally agreed to send her home. They drove silently. Traffic was heavy as a thunder storm had begun to rage. The traffic soon reduced to a crawl and then to a complete stop. He turned to look at her and began to apologize. And as she spoke, he reached forward grabbed her and tried to kiss her. She resisted and screamed, but he wouldn't let go. Finally, she managed to work herself free and ran out of the car. She ran past the stationary cars until she could not run no more, and then sat on the sidewalk, crying. She felt his hands all over her body as her mind played the scene over and over again.
Sobbing, and trying very hard to pull herself together, she saw a familiar car in the long train of cars. Her boss! she caught up with the car and knocked on the window.
They'd known each other for a year now. He was, in her eyes, the perfect gentleman. Well built, tall, finely chiseled features, he was like the Armani man. She literally bumped into him when they first met; they were at a street party. In the sea of bodies, she had been pushed forwards by the crowd, where she had lost her balance and crashed into him. Contents of her coke drenched his chest, and in the recoil, she had hit the drink in his hand also onto his chest.
In shock, she had stood there, hand over gaping mouth in horror over what had happened. But he had stood there, shaking his shirt, flashing a smile, and saying,".. I've always wondered what a mixed cocktail is like, well, I know, now!". In the flurry of "Oh My God! I'm sorry!' and the "its ok!" they got to exchanging names, and phone numbers and pretty soon it was e-mails, text messages and the like. And soon enough, he'd meet her after work, and they'd go out and spend time together. She found him to be decent, and liked him enough as a decent guy.
She'd call him for company, and he'd always make time for her. She felt good being with him, for he'd always made her laugh; she would find herself dreamily looking at him, watching the way his lips would form a smile between every single word that he would be saying. But of late, she had found him somewhat overwhelming. She tired of the way he would decide what to do, and she found that their conversations tended to be about him. She found her comparing him to her boss at work, whom she realised treated her differently and made her feel important. Where her friend brushed her suggestions aside, her boss listened to her every word, encouraging her and making her views count. In the beginning her friendship was an adventure, but she wasn't quite sure of it now. And she found herself drawn to staying late at work rather than look forward to spending time with him.
She had taken the day off and had called to meet him. He had turned up slightly later, and had been rather moody. He had suggested a movie, and despite her telling him she wasn't up to it, he bought tickets anyway. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable with all the accidental touching. At first it was the hand on the shoulder as he held the car door to let her in. Then his hand would accidentally touch her arm. And he had placed his his hand on the small of her back as he purchased the tickets. And through out the movie, more than once she had felt his hand on her thigh, and as she shifted uncomfortably, he would remove his hand, only to place it there again. Finally, not able to stand it anymore, she stood up and walked out of the theater.
"I want to go home. Now." she said. He tried to ask her to stay, but finally agreed to send her home. They drove silently. Traffic was heavy as a thunder storm had begun to rage. The traffic soon reduced to a crawl and then to a complete stop. He turned to look at her and began to apologize. And as she spoke, he reached forward grabbed her and tried to kiss her. She resisted and screamed, but he wouldn't let go. Finally, she managed to work herself free and ran out of the car. She ran past the stationary cars until she could not run no more, and then sat on the sidewalk, crying. She felt his hands all over her body as her mind played the scene over and over again.
Sobbing, and trying very hard to pull herself together, she saw a familiar car in the long train of cars. Her boss! she caught up with the car and knocked on the window.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Dawn of Darkness
He picked up his mobile and quickdialled 5. He let the ringing continue until the voice recorder answered. He listened to her recorded voice, giggly and cheerful until the beep, but he left no message. He scanned his inbox in case there was an e-mail that he missed; and he checked his tweets for the same.
He let a long, long sigh, another one in the many he'd let out this day. He flipped open his mobile, for the thousandth time, admiring the slim design. How he wished it was as razor sharp as its advertisements made it to be; He placed the top end in his palm and imagined it breaking his skin, a sudden sharp pain followed by numbness as it spread across his palm. He imagined he'd feel a hot line across his palm as his razor cut across the skin, and ensuing warmth as the blood oozed out and covered his palm.
He looked at the key pad and quickdialled 5 again. Ringing, no answer. He snapped the flip shut in frustration. He was about to throw the phone across the room, but realised there was still a chance she might call him. He gripped the phone tightly in his hand, admitted defeat, and placed the phone with a '"thunk!" on his desk.
He fired up his e-mail and hit "Compose". "Dearest,..." he began, and paused to consider the futility. "I'm sorry.." for what? he asked himself again. He wasn't sure how much she found out. He felt bad it had happened, but could that be why she's cut him off so suddenly? He hadn't lied; it was so long ago, he wouldn't think it mattered. He closed the e-mail window and left it with the other drafts.
He fired up his IM and starred at her picture. her name was grayed out in the list. " Not Online", he muttered under his breath. He typed,"Dearest, are you ok?" and hit send. He knew she wouldn't reply. He'd done nothing but send her messages all day, IM, e-mails, voice mails, and in return there had not been anything.
In frustration, he grabbed his phone from his desk, tipping over the mug of pencils. He cursed at the pencils strewn across the desk. He'll clear them tomorrow. He grabbed his briefcase banging the desk and tipping over the wastepaper basket; amidst expletive laden curses he switched off the lights and slammed the door.
He did not notice the blinking reply notification on his screen.
He let a long, long sigh, another one in the many he'd let out this day. He flipped open his mobile, for the thousandth time, admiring the slim design. How he wished it was as razor sharp as its advertisements made it to be; He placed the top end in his palm and imagined it breaking his skin, a sudden sharp pain followed by numbness as it spread across his palm. He imagined he'd feel a hot line across his palm as his razor cut across the skin, and ensuing warmth as the blood oozed out and covered his palm.
He looked at the key pad and quickdialled 5 again. Ringing, no answer. He snapped the flip shut in frustration. He was about to throw the phone across the room, but realised there was still a chance she might call him. He gripped the phone tightly in his hand, admitted defeat, and placed the phone with a '"thunk!" on his desk.
He fired up his e-mail and hit "Compose". "Dearest,..." he began, and paused to consider the futility. "I'm sorry.." for what? he asked himself again. He wasn't sure how much she found out. He felt bad it had happened, but could that be why she's cut him off so suddenly? He hadn't lied; it was so long ago, he wouldn't think it mattered. He closed the e-mail window and left it with the other drafts.
He fired up his IM and starred at her picture. her name was grayed out in the list. " Not Online", he muttered under his breath. He typed,"Dearest, are you ok?" and hit send. He knew she wouldn't reply. He'd done nothing but send her messages all day, IM, e-mails, voice mails, and in return there had not been anything.
In frustration, he grabbed his phone from his desk, tipping over the mug of pencils. He cursed at the pencils strewn across the desk. He'll clear them tomorrow. He grabbed his briefcase banging the desk and tipping over the wastepaper basket; amidst expletive laden curses he switched off the lights and slammed the door.
He did not notice the blinking reply notification on his screen.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Gazelle
"Son, I'm most proud to have you as part of our family", his father -in-law the Chairman of the Board said. "In fact, you are just what this company needs to bring this forward.." And he went on and on as he walked through the office, his words interrupted every now and then by a "how are you, Mr Chairman," and other wishes as they walked through the office corridor.
".. a man of your talents .. with your family enterprise.. synergy..." His head swirled, the voice melding onto a blur. He knew now, no matter what they said about him, that his marriage, his employment and his role in the company was no more than the fact that their biggest threat, biggest competitor, is now part of their family. And, unknowingly, he had led himself into the lions den, naively believing that he was recognized for his may talents. And, his life is now one, big show, in which he can do no wrong, for as long as he stays married to that woman, for as long as everyone thinks he's part of the family, and ... the list goes on and on..
He's realized now that he was trapped, and what a huge trap it was that he's in. He felt like an antelope in a game reserve, going about its daily life springing in glee, not at all aware that it's actually not out in the wild, instead is in someone's land, fenced at every corner.
And he knew that he's too deep in it already. And these people were big, and he'd be stupid to fight, because they will break his bones and feed him to the dogs. Every major law firm had dealings with them, and every newsprint, politician, company and what-have-yous all line up to kiss their outstretched hand. And now, with his inclusion into their family, he'd already dragged his family concern into their side, and,... Well, he thought to himself, they way his family had been so supportive of his marriage, if he were to try fight them, their side will feed him to the dogs, and his family will turn whatever is left of him into mulch.
He couldn't have dug himself into a bigger hole.
".. a man of your talents .. with your family enterprise.. synergy..." His head swirled, the voice melding onto a blur. He knew now, no matter what they said about him, that his marriage, his employment and his role in the company was no more than the fact that their biggest threat, biggest competitor, is now part of their family. And, unknowingly, he had led himself into the lions den, naively believing that he was recognized for his may talents. And, his life is now one, big show, in which he can do no wrong, for as long as he stays married to that woman, for as long as everyone thinks he's part of the family, and ... the list goes on and on..
He's realized now that he was trapped, and what a huge trap it was that he's in. He felt like an antelope in a game reserve, going about its daily life springing in glee, not at all aware that it's actually not out in the wild, instead is in someone's land, fenced at every corner.
And he knew that he's too deep in it already. And these people were big, and he'd be stupid to fight, because they will break his bones and feed him to the dogs. Every major law firm had dealings with them, and every newsprint, politician, company and what-have-yous all line up to kiss their outstretched hand. And now, with his inclusion into their family, he'd already dragged his family concern into their side, and,... Well, he thought to himself, they way his family had been so supportive of his marriage, if he were to try fight them, their side will feed him to the dogs, and his family will turn whatever is left of him into mulch.
He couldn't have dug himself into a bigger hole.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Stranger in the night
He took a deep breath, stifled a yawn, rubbed his eyes and fumbled for his keys. The taxi ride was rough, as was the flight that took him home. He'd cut short his trip and come back in the earlier flight. He wanted to surprise his wife, but now that he's standing outside the door of his home, he wasn't too sure if it was a good idea. His aeroplane had flown through a storm, and fate had placed him on a seat next to to a screaming infant and arguing parents. It was a long, tortuous journey, and at 3 in the morning, he wasn't sure what constituted a good idea anymore.
He'd very recently married to a woman whose father ran a business empire. Almost immediately, he was promoted. And, almost as quickly, he'd been sent out on this business trip. He'd felt guilty having to leave his new found bride; but she hadn't objected, but had been rather supportive of his trip. She was.. well, how could he describe her? He'd met her father first; and a short, whirlwind.. can he call it romance?.. er, familiarization, both their parents decided it was time to tie the knot. Or the noose, depending on how you look at it.
The businesses of their parents combined made up a significant chunk of the wealth of the nation, so prominent were they in the business world. And of course, the idea of combining both empires by marriage would create a super empire so huge. It was a deal that made friend of enemies, allies of strangers.
His wife was a stranger to him. And the two weeks they'd been married, he had hardly the time to get to know her. There were the receptions, the congratulatory dinners, the business associates. And before the idea of being married even sank in, he got yanked up the corporate ladder, leaving him with even lesser time to get to know his newly added partner in his life, what with the congratulatory dinners, business functions and the like. And now, here he is, as rolling thunder began to announce an impending storm, standing in front of his front door, bleary eyed, in a crumpled up suit and scuffed shoes, trying to find the key to his home.
He opened the door and found the entrance corridor and the living room lights on. The Ferragamos were strewn across the entrance. The cabrio keys were under the breakfast table chair, and her handbag, opened, lay on its side with its contents half strewn on the floor next to the table. His heart started to pound and his sleepiness suddenly disappeared as his eyes began to comprehend the scene. The vase, a wedding gift, stood on its side on the dinner table, the table cloth and chairs in disarray. He hurried to the table in disbelief as he found her blouse on the carpet. And then her skirt. As he hurried to the bedroom, he slowed his pace as he found a trail of undergarments; brassiere on the stairs, thong on the banisters. As he placed his hand on the doorknob, he heard her scream. He stopped. Its was not fear. It was not pain. The screaming came in waves, short bursts followed by low moans building up to an avalanche of pleasure...
He turned around and walked down the stairs.
He understood now. The concern for his trip, of his itinerary, the support and understanding at how important this business trip was... He understood perfectly now why she seemed overly excited that he was going away.
As the rain began to pour, amidst flashing light and rolling thunder, he walked out the door, into the car and off into the night.
He'd very recently married to a woman whose father ran a business empire. Almost immediately, he was promoted. And, almost as quickly, he'd been sent out on this business trip. He'd felt guilty having to leave his new found bride; but she hadn't objected, but had been rather supportive of his trip. She was.. well, how could he describe her? He'd met her father first; and a short, whirlwind.. can he call it romance?.. er, familiarization, both their parents decided it was time to tie the knot. Or the noose, depending on how you look at it.
The businesses of their parents combined made up a significant chunk of the wealth of the nation, so prominent were they in the business world. And of course, the idea of combining both empires by marriage would create a super empire so huge. It was a deal that made friend of enemies, allies of strangers.
His wife was a stranger to him. And the two weeks they'd been married, he had hardly the time to get to know her. There were the receptions, the congratulatory dinners, the business associates. And before the idea of being married even sank in, he got yanked up the corporate ladder, leaving him with even lesser time to get to know his newly added partner in his life, what with the congratulatory dinners, business functions and the like. And now, here he is, as rolling thunder began to announce an impending storm, standing in front of his front door, bleary eyed, in a crumpled up suit and scuffed shoes, trying to find the key to his home.
He opened the door and found the entrance corridor and the living room lights on. The Ferragamos were strewn across the entrance. The cabrio keys were under the breakfast table chair, and her handbag, opened, lay on its side with its contents half strewn on the floor next to the table. His heart started to pound and his sleepiness suddenly disappeared as his eyes began to comprehend the scene. The vase, a wedding gift, stood on its side on the dinner table, the table cloth and chairs in disarray. He hurried to the table in disbelief as he found her blouse on the carpet. And then her skirt. As he hurried to the bedroom, he slowed his pace as he found a trail of undergarments; brassiere on the stairs, thong on the banisters. As he placed his hand on the doorknob, he heard her scream. He stopped. Its was not fear. It was not pain. The screaming came in waves, short bursts followed by low moans building up to an avalanche of pleasure...
He turned around and walked down the stairs.
He understood now. The concern for his trip, of his itinerary, the support and understanding at how important this business trip was... He understood perfectly now why she seemed overly excited that he was going away.
As the rain began to pour, amidst flashing light and rolling thunder, he walked out the door, into the car and off into the night.
Friday, October 3, 2008
drudgery
For the umpteenth time, he shuffled the papers on the top of his desk. Coming to work had been a chore of late. Where once he'd go to bed looking forward to waking early, he'd now find himself extremely tired when morning came. The ritual was the same. morning followed a night of fitful sleep. He'd wake up feeling more tired than before, and he'd drag himself out of bed, wondering if he'd really want to get up. He didn't have much to look forward to in the day.
He looked out the window and shivered. Rain was battering the window pane and wind was whistling through its cracks. He cursed the central air conditioning blowing freezing air at top speed.
Stretching, he got up and paced, rubbing his arms to warm himself. He stopped at the window and saw the splashing rain forming patterns on the glass. He remembered the same patterns forming on the windows of his car. And a face.
He shrugged his shoulders and wrapped his arms even tighter around himself.
He was in a traffic jam in blinding rain when he heard banging on his car door. She stood there, a ghostly apparition through the rain soaked pane. Surprised, he pushed open the car door as she bundled herself in.
"I'm sorry!" she said again and again as little rivulets of water rolled off her rain soaked hair onto the calf leather seats of his Kompressor. And he was about to protest when she said "... I don't know where to go..." . He realized she had been crying.
As his car started to move, he stole a glance at her. She was drenched by the rain, hair strung together by the rain, trailing water. Her blouse was soaked right through, clinging tight, like second skin, following her every curve. She held her elbows together, covering her breasts, buying her face in her hands as she sobbed.
The sudden booming thunder brought him to the present. He stared at the rain patterns on the glass, and grimaced wistfully. His life was beginning to unravel, only he was not fully aware of it.
He looked out the window and shivered. Rain was battering the window pane and wind was whistling through its cracks. He cursed the central air conditioning blowing freezing air at top speed.
Stretching, he got up and paced, rubbing his arms to warm himself. He stopped at the window and saw the splashing rain forming patterns on the glass. He remembered the same patterns forming on the windows of his car. And a face.
He shrugged his shoulders and wrapped his arms even tighter around himself.
He was in a traffic jam in blinding rain when he heard banging on his car door. She stood there, a ghostly apparition through the rain soaked pane. Surprised, he pushed open the car door as she bundled herself in.
"I'm sorry!" she said again and again as little rivulets of water rolled off her rain soaked hair onto the calf leather seats of his Kompressor. And he was about to protest when she said "... I don't know where to go..." . He realized she had been crying.
As his car started to move, he stole a glance at her. She was drenched by the rain, hair strung together by the rain, trailing water. Her blouse was soaked right through, clinging tight, like second skin, following her every curve. She held her elbows together, covering her breasts, buying her face in her hands as she sobbed.
The sudden booming thunder brought him to the present. He stared at the rain patterns on the glass, and grimaced wistfully. His life was beginning to unravel, only he was not fully aware of it.
Charades
He was a high flyer, she, a trailblazer. In their respective lives, they were role models to those around them. Among friends, they were the perfect couple. They were successful; they were well known. Friends admired their ability to stay together for so long; despite the fact that both were very driven individuals, ambitious and in totally separate industries. Yet, when they went out, they were the best of friends; they walked hand in hand and sat in each other's company. They were the perfect couple leading perfect lives.
They had been married for the better of 15 years, but childless, they were companions through and through.
Or so people thought.
Away from prying eyes, they hardly spoke. They led separate lives, each to their own.
Right from the beginning, he had not wanted it this way. But he had been brought up to never go against his mother, and, bless her soul, she took every opportunity to run his life the way she saw fit.
and so many things depended on this marriage, he could not just walk away from it all. And it wasnt a terrible life. he had money, a good job, big house; she brought him contacts and opportunities. The price? Things were good as long as she was seen to be part of his life. And for him, it was a small price to pay for what it got him. He had everything he needed in his life. except that it was empty. And what was emptiness when he continued to bring in the business? "It doesnt matter...," he told himself, as a figure passed outside his office door. It stood in the doorway, blocking out the light, creating a silhouette. Tall, slim, head cocked to one side questioningly, an easy smile forming at the mouth.
"..until now.."
They had been married for the better of 15 years, but childless, they were companions through and through.
Or so people thought.
Away from prying eyes, they hardly spoke. They led separate lives, each to their own.
Right from the beginning, he had not wanted it this way. But he had been brought up to never go against his mother, and, bless her soul, she took every opportunity to run his life the way she saw fit.
and so many things depended on this marriage, he could not just walk away from it all. And it wasnt a terrible life. he had money, a good job, big house; she brought him contacts and opportunities. The price? Things were good as long as she was seen to be part of his life. And for him, it was a small price to pay for what it got him. He had everything he needed in his life. except that it was empty. And what was emptiness when he continued to bring in the business? "It doesnt matter...," he told himself, as a figure passed outside his office door. It stood in the doorway, blocking out the light, creating a silhouette. Tall, slim, head cocked to one side questioningly, an easy smile forming at the mouth.
"..until now.."
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Teacher
"so where did you work before this?" he asked her.
She sat in front of him, head held high, looking at him expectantly. she wore very little makeup, other than light lipstick. Penciled lids highlighted bright intelligent eyes, that fixed on him and followed. She sat with her back straight with her hands on her lap. In one of those hands she held a leather bound notebook.
As he begun to explain the nature of her job, She listened intently, occasionally taking notes.
It struck him that She was different from the others. She listened well, took notes and was it afraid to ask questions.
As the days passed, he noticed the confident gait, the ease in which she befriended people. And people responded to her well, too. Everyone seemed at ease to be with her.
He always worked late, and at the end of the working day she'd stop by his office and go over the day. He was by nature a teacher, and she a student, and they would spend evening in discourse. Most people avoided him but here was someone who not only Sought him out, but actively listened. He began to enjoy the attention, and soon enough began to look forward to the late evening sessions.
She sat in front of him, head held high, looking at him expectantly. she wore very little makeup, other than light lipstick. Penciled lids highlighted bright intelligent eyes, that fixed on him and followed. She sat with her back straight with her hands on her lap. In one of those hands she held a leather bound notebook.
As he begun to explain the nature of her job, She listened intently, occasionally taking notes.
It struck him that She was different from the others. She listened well, took notes and was it afraid to ask questions.
As the days passed, he noticed the confident gait, the ease in which she befriended people. And people responded to her well, too. Everyone seemed at ease to be with her.
He always worked late, and at the end of the working day she'd stop by his office and go over the day. He was by nature a teacher, and she a student, and they would spend evening in discourse. Most people avoided him but here was someone who not only Sought him out, but actively listened. He began to enjoy the attention, and soon enough began to look forward to the late evening sessions.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
The Darkness
He heard her scream for help. Over and over. There was smoke every where, smothering him. He strained his eyes to see, but there was blackness. She is upstairs; he groped around for the bannister. He just needed to get to the first step. He knew that once at the first step, it was just a quick dash, up 12 little steps, past the doorway that stood between himself and her.
He found the little sphere that marked the start of the bannister.
There was too much smoke. Pitch darkness. He tried to blink away the darkness, but nothing. He tried to run up the stairs, but his legs were heavy. He tried to heave them one at a time. He must. He must get to that door, prise it open. She is there. He must get past that door, so that he can get her. He must save her, bring her to safety. He must save her and tell her everything. But she's in danger and she's screaming; the screaming for help did not stop. He tried to shout to her, to tell her ntto be afraid, that he's coming, but there was no sound. No sound from his throat.
He found himself at the door, and as he reached out to the doorknob, it melted away like it did not exist. And there was a blinding flash of light...
He found himself drenched in sweat, breathless. He was sitting up in bed. It had been a dream.. a dream after all.. He looked around and familiarity began to come into focus. He saw his wife, in deep sleep next to him. The tv, still on, was showing the end of the cd he had been watching.
He pullled himself off the bed, weary. He stole a furtive look at his wife and quietly left the bedroom.
In the darkness, he dialed. A familiar voice, groggy from sleep, answered. "Are you ok?" he asked.
"yeah," she answered sleepily. "Why?"
"I love you. " And he hung up the phone.
He found the little sphere that marked the start of the bannister.
There was too much smoke. Pitch darkness. He tried to blink away the darkness, but nothing. He tried to run up the stairs, but his legs were heavy. He tried to heave them one at a time. He must. He must get to that door, prise it open. She is there. He must get past that door, so that he can get her. He must save her, bring her to safety. He must save her and tell her everything. But she's in danger and she's screaming; the screaming for help did not stop. He tried to shout to her, to tell her ntto be afraid, that he's coming, but there was no sound. No sound from his throat.
He found himself at the door, and as he reached out to the doorknob, it melted away like it did not exist. And there was a blinding flash of light...
He found himself drenched in sweat, breathless. He was sitting up in bed. It had been a dream.. a dream after all.. He looked around and familiarity began to come into focus. He saw his wife, in deep sleep next to him. The tv, still on, was showing the end of the cd he had been watching.
He pullled himself off the bed, weary. He stole a furtive look at his wife and quietly left the bedroom.
In the darkness, he dialed. A familiar voice, groggy from sleep, answered. "Are you ok?" he asked.
"yeah," she answered sleepily. "Why?"
"I love you. " And he hung up the phone.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
The first afternoon
It was never a cold day in the city that he lived. A tropical metropolis, the sun was always blazing and buildings kept their climate control temperatures to the minimum. But today wasn't so hot. In a rare break of clear sky in the midst of the rainy season, the day was relatively cool. It was too nice a day to stay indoors, a rare opportunity to be outside and still be comfortably so, without the sweat soaking heat.
He opted to go out. Waiting for the elevator, he was pleasantly surprised when she walked out into the lobby, clutching a tiny purse and handbag in tow.
"Going out?", he asked.
"yeah, need to go do some banking and stuff", she said with a smile. "where you off to?"
"Nowhere, really. Its just too nice to stay indoors", he had said. "Want me to give you a ride?"
He drove her to the nearby bank, in a neighborhood he had not been to in recent years. From the parking spot, they walked along the boulevard lined with shady trees and parked cars. He remarked about how long its been since he last had anything to do with the place, while she updated him with the times when she used to work in that area, and how there were places she'd visit to between breaks. He'd looked at her intently as she spoke, watching how easily her lips would part themselves into a smile at almost every sentence. Her voice was melodic; lilting in tunes at every nuance of her speech, breaking into little giggles as she spoke. He was at ease with her, as she with him.
There wasn't a queue at the bank, and he sat at the seats while she filled in the forms and walked to the counter. He watched her every move, every step that she took. She walked with her head held high, at ease with her self, confident with her abilities. And the smile that so easily formed was always there, even as she broke into conversation with the teller. He continued to watch her every move even as they had lunch, and even as they exchanged conversation.
The conversation continued as they walked to the car, two people lost in each others company, so lost that they did not realize his hand slipped into hers; and they continued to the car, retracing their steps, hand in hand past the rows of parked cars in the shade of the trees.
It wasn't until he reached the car and was about to fish out his keys that he realized he was holding her hand; in one quick reaction, he pulled his hand away. His ears turned red and his face began to flush when he realized it was her hand he was holding. He wanted to apologize (what for?) he wanted to say something, but he was far too lost for words. He just stood there, embarrassed grin on his face, trying to stammer, or not to stammer, after all he didn't have the words anyway. And she looked at him, coy, that wonderful smile forming in the corners of her mouth. And she mentioned his name in a half whisper as she placed her hand behind his neck, and pulled his face to hers and planted a long, warm kiss on his lips....
He opted to go out. Waiting for the elevator, he was pleasantly surprised when she walked out into the lobby, clutching a tiny purse and handbag in tow.
"Going out?", he asked.
"yeah, need to go do some banking and stuff", she said with a smile. "where you off to?"
"Nowhere, really. Its just too nice to stay indoors", he had said. "Want me to give you a ride?"
He drove her to the nearby bank, in a neighborhood he had not been to in recent years. From the parking spot, they walked along the boulevard lined with shady trees and parked cars. He remarked about how long its been since he last had anything to do with the place, while she updated him with the times when she used to work in that area, and how there were places she'd visit to between breaks. He'd looked at her intently as she spoke, watching how easily her lips would part themselves into a smile at almost every sentence. Her voice was melodic; lilting in tunes at every nuance of her speech, breaking into little giggles as she spoke. He was at ease with her, as she with him.
There wasn't a queue at the bank, and he sat at the seats while she filled in the forms and walked to the counter. He watched her every move, every step that she took. She walked with her head held high, at ease with her self, confident with her abilities. And the smile that so easily formed was always there, even as she broke into conversation with the teller. He continued to watch her every move even as they had lunch, and even as they exchanged conversation.
The conversation continued as they walked to the car, two people lost in each others company, so lost that they did not realize his hand slipped into hers; and they continued to the car, retracing their steps, hand in hand past the rows of parked cars in the shade of the trees.
It wasn't until he reached the car and was about to fish out his keys that he realized he was holding her hand; in one quick reaction, he pulled his hand away. His ears turned red and his face began to flush when he realized it was her hand he was holding. He wanted to apologize (what for?) he wanted to say something, but he was far too lost for words. He just stood there, embarrassed grin on his face, trying to stammer, or not to stammer, after all he didn't have the words anyway. And she looked at him, coy, that wonderful smile forming in the corners of her mouth. And she mentioned his name in a half whisper as she placed her hand behind his neck, and pulled his face to hers and planted a long, warm kiss on his lips....
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The First Day
He stood there, eyes scanning the audience. Clearly, they were starting to get agitated. What began as silent whispers, were increasing to murmurs and even then, these were beginning to punctuate the air around him. The chairperson was trying to get control of the audience, like reeling a thrashing bull at the end of tether.
His attention was suddenly diverted to the buzzing of his mobile.
"They're wheeling her in", the voice inside the phone said. The blood drained from his head, down his chest, leaving a tingle on his skin; he became aware of the sudden pounding of his chest. Each breath became difficult, as if a burden was placed on his chest.
He felt a sudden need to sit down, his focus clearly lost from the crowd onto his beating heart.
The surgery!
He was no longer present in his surroundings, as everything began to move slowly. The discussions around him bore no meaning, every look, every question directed at him meant nothing. His present melted away, fused into a grey, murmuring background, as his mind began to wander into the past.
She had stood in front of him, twirling her car keys in her hands, hesitant. It was already late, and he had brushed her words aside, telling her to hurry home. When she drove off, he had gotten into his car and driven off, too; and, instead of the customary phone call to keep her company during the drive home, he had opted to not to call, instead, he drove slowly, silently with his thoughts to himself.
The next day, he had found a long message waiting for him; it said,"I wish you could have the time to let me tell you all the things at the back of my mind," and the message had ended with,"..I wish you could be the last thing my eyes would see when they take me in, and the first when they open again..."
And he had then promised himself that he would be there, and if not physically, he would call her, for if not for anything else, to let her know that he was thinking of her, and that for every conscious moment, she was all that he'd ever think off.
And, as questions from the audience yanked him away from the past back into the present, it dawned that the surgery was real, as was the risk of something going wrong; he may never see her again, in one selfish moment, he had given up the chance to let her know how deeply he had felt about her.
And, as his eyes focused on the expectant faces, waiting for his answer, to the questions he did not hear, his heart became empty, the passion for life extinguished, and the realization that once again, he had let himself down, and, with it, began his spiral into self destruction and despair.
His attention was suddenly diverted to the buzzing of his mobile.
"They're wheeling her in", the voice inside the phone said. The blood drained from his head, down his chest, leaving a tingle on his skin; he became aware of the sudden pounding of his chest. Each breath became difficult, as if a burden was placed on his chest.
He felt a sudden need to sit down, his focus clearly lost from the crowd onto his beating heart.
The surgery!
He was no longer present in his surroundings, as everything began to move slowly. The discussions around him bore no meaning, every look, every question directed at him meant nothing. His present melted away, fused into a grey, murmuring background, as his mind began to wander into the past.
She had stood in front of him, twirling her car keys in her hands, hesitant. It was already late, and he had brushed her words aside, telling her to hurry home. When she drove off, he had gotten into his car and driven off, too; and, instead of the customary phone call to keep her company during the drive home, he had opted to not to call, instead, he drove slowly, silently with his thoughts to himself.
The next day, he had found a long message waiting for him; it said,"I wish you could have the time to let me tell you all the things at the back of my mind," and the message had ended with,"..I wish you could be the last thing my eyes would see when they take me in, and the first when they open again..."
And he had then promised himself that he would be there, and if not physically, he would call her, for if not for anything else, to let her know that he was thinking of her, and that for every conscious moment, she was all that he'd ever think off.
And, as questions from the audience yanked him away from the past back into the present, it dawned that the surgery was real, as was the risk of something going wrong; he may never see her again, in one selfish moment, he had given up the chance to let her know how deeply he had felt about her.
And, as his eyes focused on the expectant faces, waiting for his answer, to the questions he did not hear, his heart became empty, the passion for life extinguished, and the realization that once again, he had let himself down, and, with it, began his spiral into self destruction and despair.
The ghost has a home!
After many years of floating around in the nether world, the ghost now has a home. I want to be able to write things that wont be tied to my realities; i just want to be able to express myself and experiment with wordplay and emotions.
I don't know if I can generate any traffic; but most importantly, i need to be able to release all these things inside my head so that they can stay somewhere and not add clutter to an already cluttered mind.
a journey of a thousand steps begin with the first one, so i hope that my number of steps grow n continue.
regards,
ghost
I don't know if I can generate any traffic; but most importantly, i need to be able to release all these things inside my head so that they can stay somewhere and not add clutter to an already cluttered mind.
a journey of a thousand steps begin with the first one, so i hope that my number of steps grow n continue.
regards,
ghost
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)