Repentance

Been watching a lot of anime this weekend, so maybe that is the inspiration for this. Not a complete story though and hopefully I can develop this into something more later on.

---

The blood dripped slowly down her extended hand, the hilt of the dagger barely clasped in her trembling grip. Her face was chalk-white, with twinkling drops of sweat making their steady track down the ridge of her elongated cheekbones into the void below. She tried to say something, but her will had completely deserted her now, that last thrust taking every remaining ounce with it. Her frame undulated erratically, the random heaves and grunts mirroring her arrhythmic respiration and turbulent mind. She would not have been standing but for her tenuous grip on that hilt that was stuck into her opponent's torso. Her guard was completely open to any counterattack, but his blade lay uselessly in the crimson pool inexorably widening around him. This battle was well and truly over.

Her head was feeling light as blood poured serenely out of the many cuts and gashes on her own person. Never had someone pushed her so far, to within an inch of her death, and for that her opponent was to be admired. She was the chosen one after all; a noble, gifted by birthright and honed by the best teachers her land had to offer. She had forded mighty rivers, conquered majestic mountains, roamed the length and breadth of this world and the various adventures that it offered. She was one of their best, among the fiercest warriors that ever roamed this realm; and yet...yet...this heathen had reduced her to this pitiable condition!

She let go of the hilt in self-disgust and staggered back, willing herself not to collapse and further extend the ignominy of her situation. Somehow she managed to make it to a nearby railing and leaned gratefully against it. Her vision was getting blurry now and the blood streaming freely down her forehead wasn't helping, but she didn't even have the energy to wipe that away. She took deep ragged breaths in an attempt to calm down her adrenalin-loaded nerves and bring some sanity back to her world. This can't be happening, her brain was screaming, this has to be a nightmare! But the blood was real and so was the opponent standing in a pool of his own blood.

She marveled at how he could still be standing. Surely there can't be anything left in him! His body was festooned with tattered skin and gaping holes, including the one an inch from his weakening heart from which the hilt of her favourite dagger jutted out. It had been the perfect move, a desperate but successful gambit that decided life-and-death battles such as this. She had taken his hit, dodging enough at the last moment to not get pierced in any vital organs before unsheathing the hidden dagger in her sleeves and piercing through his now open guard. But even in that split second he had enough speed and energy to move that vital half-inch that saved him from certain death. Her eyes were still staring with disbelief at this demon that stood before her, this greenhorn who no one ever heard of and who shouldn't have lasted ten seconds against her.

Movement! He moved! What? How? How could he still move? How could he be losing so much blood yet even now reaching slowly for that dagger buried in his chest! She stared in utter disbelief as he grasped hold of the hilt and with a slight grunt yanked it out of himself. The sudden spurt in blood flowing out his wound made him go down on his knees, but he still managed to somehow tear some strips out of his ragged sleeve and fashion a crude compress on it. She tried to get over her initial shock and attack him, but her legs refused to move. It was as if a giant hand was keeping her pinned against that railing, and it was all she could do to breathe. She could only watch in growing astonishment as the man finished bandaging himself and started picking up his sword. Impossible! That arm was completely useless! Not even the best medics in the kingdom could ever heal that ragged hunk of flesh! But slowly, surely, the fingers that should not be moving clasped the hilt in an almost loving embrace and the man who should not be alive got to his feet with the sword hanging by his side. Impossible! IMPOSSIBLE!

He now started to trudge towards her, his sword hanging loosely by his side. She tried to struggle up, to do something, anything; but her power, her much vaunted, feared, awe-inspiring terrible power was exhausted, consumed by this demon-incarnate who even now looked at her with inscrutable eyes as he made his inexorable way towards her. There were no guards to defend her now, no secret reserve of power that she could yet tap and emerge triumphant. This well and truly was her death approaching her, cold cruel death that made no distinction between nobles and commoners and claimed everyone equally for its own.

He was now standing over her, that young unworn face implacable as always. She felt so small right now, lying at the feet of this monster who simply would not go down. His sword quivered as if about to move for the fatal strike and she reflexively closed her eyes.

"Look at me!" he thundered.

She opened her eyes and stared grimly into those bottomless grey eyes.

"I'm going to kill you now".

"I know", she replied laconically.

"Aren't you going to beg?"

"No"

"Why not?"

"There is no honour in begging".

"There is honour in killing innocent villagers then?"

"They were enemies of the state!" she shouted, her anger suddenly giving her energy,"Insurgents! Filth! Vermin!"

"Not all of them."

"I don't give a damn! This is war, war has casualties. We didn't seek this!"

"You did not seek this?" he snarled through clenched teeth, "You DID NOT SEEK THIS!"

"NO!"

In a burst of motion too quick to even follow, the tip of his blade pierced the soft skin of her neck. It was not a killing move, but enough to draw a trickle of blood.

"This is your doing!" he raged, waving his hand at the ruins of a once prosperous community behind him, "This is all your doing! You cut them down where they stood, slaughtered man, woman and children like stray dogs! And for what, hunh? WHAT? Your stupid laws, your stupid tyrannical state that has smothered their hopes and dreams for generations!"

"Don't be naive!" she replied back equally fiercely. This rabid attack at all she held dear was too much for her to bear. "We give structure, moral, code, justice! We raise men from beasts! We create beautiful cities and prosperous communities! We are not like you rabble who want nothing more than to return us back to anarchy!"

She paused, taking heavy gulps of blissful air as her would-be executioner surveyed her impassively before leaning in towards her.

"Was this necessary?" he sighed. She looked up surprised. The anger had suddenly gone out his voice, to be replaced by a heavy sadness that was literally weighing him down.

"Answer me!" he said, louder this time.

"Was what necessary?"

"Was all this...this massacre...so much blood...was all this necessary? Do you really think you did the right thing?"

"The law says..."

"I DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE LAW SAYS!" he yelled with such force that she recoiled involuntarily, "WOULD YOU HAVE KILLED ALL THESE PEOPLE!"

She looked out behind him at the corpses littered on the ground, including the guards that he had slaughtered before she started fighting him. Grass, tiles, clothes, bones; even under those dark dark skies everything gleamed with a crimson hue. It was a psychotic's canvas, just blood and more blood everywhere. She had never ever seen so much blood in her entire life.

A chill wind whipped through the air, dragging stray leaves stained red behind it. She watched them flutter by as her eyes suddenly started watering. She tried hard to control herself, but couldn't prevent a stray sparkling teardrop from rolling down her grimy cheek. 

"No", she whispered.

That same impassive stare, the same steady hand on his sword.

"Again", he whispered.

"No."

"AGAIN!"

"NO" she screamed out defiantly. "NO NO NO! I WON'T! I...I..." she gulped, tears streaming freely down her face now. "I won't!" she finished, before breaking out into sobs.

The greenhorn continued to stare at her as she buried her head in her hands and wept uncontrollably. Then silently, imperceptibly, he moved his sword away from her neck and gingerly sheathed it. She looked disbelievingly as he turned around and started walking away into the shadows.

"WAIT!", she screamed. He paused and half-turned towards her.

"What now?" she cried imploringly, "What do I do now? How do I go back?"

"Go back to what?" he murmured.

"My home, my liege, my life..." she broke off, choking up, before continuing, "How do I live with meaning and honour! I, who could not even beat a village bumpkin and uphold the law!"

His teeth gleamed in the dark night.

"You don't."

She stared wide-eyed at him.

"You get well", he continued, "you train, get stronger, faster. You look at the world, the pain, the suffering. You look at your justice and how fields like these run red with blood at its behest. You open your mind, as I have, noble, and when you have finally seen the truth come find me."

"How...how will I find you?"

He guffawed at that.

"By the time you are ready, I'm sure my fame would have spread enough. I will also be training to be stronger you know", he concluded with a wink, before turning around and proceeding onward.

She didn't stop him this time, just kept staring at those blood-spattered clothes until they vanished into the darkness. The sound of running footsteps was intruding into the welcome lassitude that was now enveloping her conscience, like irritating flies on a sticky summer morning. Ah what she would give for a glass of cool ice water now, she thought as she drifted off into unconsciousness, maybe something sweet to go with it too. But her last conscious thought was of that inscrutable face and the blood-red field and she knew she would never be the same again. She won't, she simply won't...      

Last Call

"Repeat?"

"Repeat repeat. God yes repeat!"

"Repeat barkeep!"

"Yes sir."

The solicitous barkeep went to get the necessary victuals. Ravi turned to his friend Manoj who was staring fixedly at an imitation swordfish mounted on the wall. 

"Beaut, innit?"

"Hunh?" Manoj muttered.

"A whopper that."

"Whopper what? What the hell is a whopper?"

"Big. Huge. Massive. You know, whopper. It is also Burger King's signature burger, but that's not relevant here."

"A burger? You want  me to have a burger?"

"No no. I was just trying to make a point about the fish."

"What fish?"

"That fish, the one staring pie-eyed at us from the wall," Ravi emphasized, pointing at the artifact for added effect.

"I don't see any fish!"

"It's right there! You are looking at it!"

"Am I?"

"Oh for the love of...wait. You wearing your glasses?"

"Nope."

"Why the hell are you not wearing your glasses? You are blind as a bat without them!"

"Because she hated them. She said I looked like a dyspeptic mole!"

"Dyspeptic? Really?"
"I was going through some stomach troubles then. Still am actually."
"Save it. Spare me your hypochondriac spiel. You are visually challenged my friend, and quite severely at that. You shouldn't be taking such frivolous fashion advice, especially from your ex."

Ravi felt like kicking himself as soon as he said 'ex'. It was too raw a wound. Manoj had already started slouching further into his seat, almost as if he was shrinking right in front of his eyes. His lips were also quivering in the 'about to bawl like a baby and make a scene' mode, and God knew he had had enough of that! He had almost physically dragged his friend across town and had practically plonked him in this relatively nondescript watering hole simply because no one they knew would come here in their right mind. And what thanks he got for all this effort? Zilch! Nada! The buffoon was even now tearing up again like a two year old who had pooped his pants.

He frantically scrabbled at the spectacles case lying on the counter-top and fished out the missing spectacles, which he then jammed them down emphatically on the bridge of Manoj's nose.
"OWWW! What the fuck!" yelled Manoj, rudely brought back to his senses by this physical assault.
"Ah put a sock in it. I did you a favour!"
"How the hell did almost breaking my nose do me a friggin' favour!"
"Look there?"
"Where?"
"There."
"At that fish?"
"See? Favour done!"
"Oh for the love of...what is wrong with you!"
"Actually, now that you are mentioning it I have this weird kind of itch in my crotch, a certain kind of dryness almost. That region almost seems parched. Maybe you can go down and help a bit there."
"Screw you dickhead!"
"Up yours shitface! Now shut up and down that drink in front of you this instant!"
"Of course I will down it! You think I am some pansy? I will show you!"

Hence they proceeded to down that round. And another round. And another round. And so on and so forth, since there wasn't much else to do in that place anyway. A pool table or two might have distracted those two from getting cirrhosis of the liver, but this was a no-nonsense bare bones kind of establishment that was proud to be journey's end for the already and soon-to-be inebriated and didn't brook any of this fancy-schamncy stuff. There were also no jolly drunk strangers to strike up a conversation with. This bar in fact seemed to be propped up only on their custom since the next nearest thing to a customer they had at the moment was a stray cat that was lapping up some suspicious stain on the floor. Ravi took pity on this forager around shot #6 and immediately ordered shot #7 to add some variety to the critter's life. His motor functions were not working properly though and he ended up pouring it all over the cat. The worthy animal then hopped around in indignation for a minute or so before settling down in a corner far away from Ravi. It seemed to be licking its paws rather fondly though, so all this tomfoolery was probably not in vain.

By shot #9 the world was definitely doing weird things to Manoj. Sorely tried as he was by the vagaries of human relationships, he was now being subjected to a veritable kaleidoscope of colours and images intermingling with each other in some weird mish-mash that was making his head hurt. Or maybe that was the alcohol. Or maybe both. Anyway, he was not feeling in top form to deal with the world. His hand was clamped in a death-grip around the now-empty shot glass as if it was his only tether to this mortal realm, while the bartender did the shimmy at fantastically impossible angles. And Ravi, O Ravi, his dear and faithful friend! He had well and truly lost it! What else could explain his frequent apparations and disapparations! One second he was there grinning like an idiot, and the next poof! Gone! And then poof again! Back! On and on and on he did this, each time reappearing with the same drunken grin smeared across his face. The Cheshire Cat couldn't hold a candle to this miracle man!

"Oi!"
"Hmmmmmm?" the apparition replied before blinking out of existence again.
"How you doing...that!"
"That whaaaatttt?" the voice slurred, an instant before the face reappeared.
"This. This this this!"
"I don't...hic!...have a friggin'...I said I don't have an idea...what I mean to say is...hehe."
"There! See? You did that again!"
"Did what?"
"Disappeared!"
"Dissh..dishh...dishhapppeared?"
"Yeshh...I mean yes...how?"
"I don't know!...hehe."
"You don't?" Manoj asked incredulously.
"Nope...hic...not a clue!"
"But you are doing it! How the hell can you do something and not have an idea how!"
"Do you fart?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"How? What do you mean how?"
"How do you fart?"
"What kind of a question is that!"
"Hey...burp!...you were the one who shaaaid it."
"Shaaid what?"
"That you know how you do what you do. So temme...hic!...how do you fart?"

Manoj was stymied at this juncture. It seemed a devilishly simple question this, for even though he was not trained in the science of the human body surely this was purely a question of deductive reasoning and some imagination! How indeed does a man expel gas? How does anything expel gas for the matter? Surely this was a trifling question! Even now the answer should be coalescing and bursting forth with blinding luminosity into his cerebrum (or cerebellum, he was never sure which one). But it wasn't, and that left him even more bewildered at the state of things. He huffed and puffed and could have actually farted for all the good that it did him. His brain had shut shop and left the building.

"Hehehe."
Manoj cast a jaundiced eye at his friend who was grinning from ear to ear. The apparation-disapparation act had finally been played out it seemed, for he was trying to stand on four legs now and struggling mightily with at least three of them.
"You look funny doing that", he said disapprovingly.
"And you look like a baboon, but who's complaining!"
"You're getting on my nerves mate you are."
"Surely you are 'farting' about it. Hee hee!"
"I'm warning you dude. I'm in a bad mood."
"And I'm in a 'bar' mood. Hee hee hee!" laughing so hard this time that he almost toppled over.
"Stop it man. I'll hit you!"
"Hit me?"
"Yes hit you!"

Ravi quit his calisthenics for the moment and come back squarely to terra firma. He had started the night out as a firm shoulder to cry on, but that mission statement seemed to have been forgotten in the colorful alcohol haze that was making him giddy from head to toe. This threat of physical harm though brought it back squarely into focus again. Here he was, he thought, being a friend in need and shit and here was this thankless no-good bastard who was actually threatening to hit him! Who died and made him king hunh! The nerve of the guy!

"Did you just say," Ravi began, his voice firm and resolute, "that you, are going to hit me?"
"Yes. That's exactly what I said."
"Why?" he inquired, trying to find some rationale.
"Felt like it."
"Felt like it? FELT LIKE IT?"
"Yup."
"What do you mean felt like it?"
"I meant that you are here, you look positively repulsive and morally reprehensible, plus you are irritating the hell out of me with your fart jokes. So I'm gonna hit you."
"Really?"
"Yup. Before I thought I'd just threaten you so that you mend your ways, but the idea of beating you black and blue just keeps getting more and more exciting."
"Be careful what you are saying Manoj," Ravi threatened, "else you will come to regret it."
"Who'll make me regret it? You? Hah! You can't even stand on all fours!"
"What?"
"You can't stand on all fours!"
"What 'all fours'? I'm all twos!"
"Exactly! You're not even worth all fours!"
"You're not worth all fours!"
"No you aren't!"
"No you!"
"No you!"
"You!"
"You!"
"AAAAAARRRGGGH!"
"AAAAAARRRGGGH!"

And thus, war ululations in place, they pounced on each other. Rather, they tried to pounce on each other with hilarious results. Manoj got entangled in the bar stool he was sitting on and came crashing into Ravi who was in mid-leap. The resultant tangle of arms and legs rolled a few meters across the floor before coming to rest next to the cat. Now this cat had been sorely tried by this duo. All it sought was a bit of peace and quiet at this ungodly hour instead of being sprayed by foul-smelling liquids by this numskulls. Add to the fact that it was a bit high on said foul-smelling liquids and it was no wonder that it was not a happy camper. It was thus with barely disguised glee that it sprung on the dazed duo and scratched them no end. They yipped, they yelled, they yowled, but the feline was an avenging angel, an Egyptian God's fury incarnate. The fighting blood of its sabre-toothed ancestors was up and boiling and it just went ballistic. It was only when Ravi extricated his left elbow from underneath Manoj's right butt-cheek that they were able to disentangle themselves and scurry away from this blur of paws and fur. The marauder stared disdainfully at its handiwork  as they cowered opposite it before turning away haughtily and slipping out the front door.

The erstwhile combatants gingerly got up and dusted themselves off unsteadily. Manoj walked back to the bar and sat down with his head in his hands. Ravi tottered after him and took the adjoining seat.

"Hehe."
"What now?" Manoj mumbled through his palms.
"We got into a fight with a cat."
"So?"
"And the cat won!" Ravi screamed and burst out laughing.
Manoj lifted his head from his hands and waited testily for his paroxysm to pass over. When Ravi had calmed down to muted sniggers he asked again,
"So?"
He stopped sniggering and looked incredulously at him.
"You mean you didn't get it?"
"Nope."
"Seriously?"
"Yup."
"How? How could you not get THAT!"
"Not my day I guess. Now will you tell me already why the hell you are laughing like a maniac!"
"Hehehe."
"Ravi!"
"Ok ok I'm telling you," leaning forward conspiratorially, "so it was a cat."
"Yup."
"And we are guys."
"Yup."
"Guys with dicks."
"Ok..."
"And it was pussy cat..."
"Oh for the love of...You were laughing at that!"
"Um hmm Um hmm," Ravi managed to squeeze out between his continued sniggers.
Manoj smacked himself on the forehead. That is to say he tried to for he missed by a wide margin. He looked incredulously at the offending palm as it began to go out of focus again. The alcohol in his system was reasserting itself with a vengeance.

He turned his bleary gaze back to his friend who was trying to frantically catch hold of the bartender.
"Oi! Oi barkeep! Hey! Dude! Chop chop!"
"What happened?" he asked.
"I want tequila."
"Don't you think you have drunk enough already?"
"Nope. Neither have you, so I'm ordering for you too."
"Hey! I don't want any."
"Of course you do! Who are you kidding?"
"But..."
"C'mon man! Two strapping hunks like us got conquered by a pussy! What are the odds of that!"
"Pretty low I'd think."
"Doesn't matter! Come! Drink up!"

The bartender had in the interim responded to his pleas and served up two shot glasses worth of the stuff in a jiffy. Manoj picked up his glass and turned reluctantly to Ravi.
"Here," Ravi yelled joyously as he thrust his glass high in the air, "here's to us! To us, to our awesomeness and to our amazingly long dicks! L'chaim!"
"L'chaim!" Manoj responded with a grin, his friend's enthusiasm too infectious to resist.

The liquid burned a fiery trail down his throat and he shuddered as the hit went right to his head. It almost felt like he had been dunked in icy water and he was spluttering by the time the amber fluid settled in his stomach. The world had started wobbling again by the time he managed to set the empty glass back on the table.

"Good wasn't it?" Ravi grinned as he watched his friend carefully.
"Good? It was brilliant! Phew! Strong shit!"
"I asked him for that particular brand. Hits the spot like a charm."
"I'd say. Brrrrhh! My eyes are still watering!"
"Compliments to the chef!" Ravi proclaimed, raising his glass to the bartender in appreciation. The worthy in question was busy packing up for the night and ignored this gesture completely.
"Amen!" Manoj concurred.

A brief bonhomie prevailed in the bar as Ravi went about the ritual of paying the bill. He had lost count of the drinks long time back and didn't even stop to examine the bill as he thrust his entire billfold at the manager, who surveyed the impresario curiously before selecting a card at random and going back to his machine. Business concluded, the loyal friend turned back to find Manoj slumped into deep dark gloom again.

"Oi! Oi you lily-livered cad! What ails you now you dishrag?" adding a thumping slap on the back for added effect.
"Ow! You for one, you drunk monkey! Watch where that hand of yours is going!"
"Hee hee hee hee hee!"
"What's funny now?"
"Hand...he he he...going...hmph hmph hmph..."
"Crissakes did you even graduate high school?"
"He he he."
"God! Here I am smashed out of my spinal cortex, having the worst day of my life and there you are cracking up like friggin' teenager! Don't you see I am suffering?"
The goofy grin on Ravi's face vanished immediately at that, to be replaced by a stern, even angry stare that Manoj found too unnerving to handle. Or maybe it was the tequila playing dodgeball with his neurons.
"Listen, you piece of shit," his friend began irately.
"Piece of shit? You calling me a piece of shit?" he replied incredulously.
"Yes you spineless idiot. You are a piece of shit, the biggest stinkiest most ugly turd that was ever shat out on God's green earth!"
"Ack! That's disgusting!"
"No! No you are disgusting. The way you blubber on and on about this nonsense is bloody repulsive! She found someone else, you bought the new issue of Penthouse so all square!"
"You mean you bought the new issue of Penthouse, which you haven't even given to me yet."
"Details details. That's not the point! The point is that you got rid of her. She was excess baggage man. If not today then tomorrow, if not then later, if marriage then a pretty messy divorce and she would have coolly walked away with a significant portion of your fortune."
"I don't have a fortune," Manoj murmured.
"Bugger! That's not the point again. There was barely any physical, mental, social, spiritual, metaphysical, philosophical or even topological compatibility between the two of you. You got hot after her bust, she didn't seem to mind and that was that. The whole basis of you relationship. Can't you see the big favour she did you? You should be shouting in the streets, dive-bombing into pools and generally raising hell. Instead you are stuck in this sad little bar with your head between your hands. Wake up already you bastard and for the love of god smell some roses!"

Ravi looked anxiously at his friend as he finally raised his head and sat up straight (or whatever went for straight in his inebriated state). This really was the last throw of the dice. If his friend still refused to come out of this thoroughly depressing mood then he was just going to bonk him on the head with a bottle and hope for the best. It was thus with a certain trepidation as he waited for him to speak.

"Ravi."
"Yeah?"
"You paid the bill?"
"Yeah? Oh yeah yeah. Paid it."
"Hmm. We can go then?"
"Yup."
"Come. Let's go then. I need a change of scenery."
"Sure man. Whatever you want."

The duo got up gingerly to their feet. There was a brief alarming moment when the earth seemed to be slipping out from beneath their feet before they managed to rein it under control and plant their heels firmly on the floor. They then carefully made their way to the door and equally carefully stepped out into the chilly winter night.

"Fuck it's cold!" Manoj groaned.
"Seriously," Ravi replied, "I think my scrotum is frozen to my thigh already."
"Let's take a walk to warm ourselves up shall we?"
"Er...ok...if that's what you want....I was looking forward to a nice warm taxi though..."
"Just for a bit. Need to oil these creaking joints of mine."
"Ok...I guess..." Ravi replied dubiously as an especially chilly gust of wind whipped past their faces.

The empty streets rang with the steady clop-clop of their shoes. Ravi drew his jacket tighter around himself as his teeth started chattering uncontrollably. This was not his idea of a leisurely stroll for sure. The fog was impenetrable, threatening shadows were popping up out of nowhere and he was almost certain that there was a crazed homicidal lunatic stalking them at this very moment. His friend, though, was in a world of his own, rarely catching his breath or giving in to the slightest shudder. He just kept plodding on at the same steady place, head sunk deep in thought. The same murderous maniac could have lopped off a limb or two and he would have shrugged it off like a zen master, such was his contemplation. Ravi, however, was denied this inner peace and was consequently jumping about like a ferret. It took about thirty shivers and three anxious glances around before he decided enough is enough and spoke,
"Oi!"
Meditative as he was, Manoj coolly ignored him.
"Oi! I said Oi you blasted idiot!"
Something finally seemed to penetrate his cocoon. He stopped and turned bemusedly to his friend.
"You said something?"
"Of course I said something you drunk bat!"
"What?"
"What do you mean what!"
"What did you say?"
"What did I say? What did I say!"
"Yes, what did you say?"
Ravi knew he had a corker of an answer for that, but he couldn't for the life of him remember it.
"Er...That is to say...hmm...good question that."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What," Manoj said exasperatedly, "did you say?"
"I can't remember."
"Why am I not surprised!"
"Hey! You didn't hear what I said. Your problem bud!"
"Bah!" he replied huffily and started to return to his walk.
"Oi!...Ah now I remember!"
"Really!" came the sarcastic reply.
"Of course I do! I said 'Oi you blasted idiot'!"
"Now why would you call me that!"
"Because you are walking around in the Arctic Circle as if you are picking daisies!"
"Arctic Circle? Daisies?"
"Yes. Arctic Circle AND Daisies. Rather nice turn of phrase that, even if I say so myself."
"Why the hell would I be picking daisies at this time! I am mulling you oaf!"
"Mulling on what you git! I am freezing my 'nads of here! Why the hell can't you mull at home!"
"Dude who mulls at home! Haven't you seen any pictures?"
"Oh so his lordship is shooting a picture now is he? Bloody buffoon!"
"Oi! Emotionally trying time remember. Show some sensitivity."
"I will be sensitive the moment I get a hot water bottle between my legs. Oi! Oi taxi!"
Manoj looked around quizzically. There were no cabs in sight.
"Who are you calling out to? I don't see any taxis anywhere."
"Neither do I. I thought there might be some cab lurking around in the shadows or something."
"None that I see."
"Damn!"
"Don't worry man. I will call for a radio cab."
"Aww that will take forever to come!"
"Either that or we walk all the way back."
"Bah!" Ravi replied grumpily and sat down on the nearest doorstep. Manoj conducted the necessary negotiations over the phone and sat down next to him.
"Fifteen minutes mate. Think you can hold on till then?"
"Don't have a choice now do I!"
"Nope."
"Bah, humbug."

They sat in a somewhat moody silence for the next few minutes, only the occasional dog bark disturbing the stillness. Ravi kept looking up and down the road for any sign of headlights, while Manoj stared fixedly at some nondescript spot on the ground. After a couple of minutes of this the latter spoke,
"Ravi?"
"Yup," he replied absentmindedly, engrossed in his search.
"You were right."
The sheer unbelievable nature of that statement made him sit up. He looked incredulously at his friend.
"What?"
"Don't make me say it again now."
"Did you just say I was right."
"Yup."
"Right about what?"
"About her, about the situation, about everything."
"Really? You mean that?"
"Yup."
"Really? Truly truly absolutely?"
"Ya man. Don't rub it in now."
Ravi suddenly let out a gleeful cackle and pinched his cheeks. Not satisfied, he then got up and started doing an impromptu and very unsteady jig.
"Ow! That hurt fucker!" Manoj growled rubbing his cheeks.
"He's alive! HE IS ALIVE! Oh glad and merry this day, oh joy is me!"
"You really have to do that?"
"Do what?" the artist replied, now engaged in his own version of the Gangnam dance.
"That!"
"Oh this? This is just me being nice to you, not shoving the words 'I TOLD YOU SO' down your stinking throat! Ha Ha!"

Manoj waited patiently as the Gangnam turned into something that was a cross between a rodeo bull and cerebral palsy, which was then replaced by the ubiquitous moonwalk. He went through a whole gamut of other fantastical dance interpretations singing "I TOLD YOU SO" in an off-key slur, until he finally got tangled in his own feet and collapsed onto the ground. Apparently he was still too amused though, because he then doubled up with laughter. The bravura performance finally wound down with a big hiccup, a wide grin the only remnant of the gyrations that preceded it. The audience gave him a moment or two to recover before piping up,
"Done?"
"Mmmm...hee hee!"
"I will take that as a yes."
"Um hmmm....hic!"
"Let me finish. I will tell you why I wanted to walk. I wanted to walk because I needed to think, and to think I needed the biting cold to wipe off that alcohol from my system. And what was I thinking about you ask? About what you said friend, about how she had done me a favour almost by digging out my heart and trampling all over it with her Jimmy Choos. For once in your life you were spot on. There was nothing between us. We were, we were just two wayfarers in the night, taking comfort from each other in the dark, facing the terrors of the night together, holding each other for warmth. Once the day came, we didn't need each other. She went her way and I went mine. I liked what we had together and I was very very partial to that fantastic bust, but push comes to shove buddy and I would have taken on a grizzly rather than gotten hitched to her!"

He got up for theatrical effect at this point, walking onto the road and staring in the distance as if posing for some Michelangelo imitation. He raised a pointed finger at some random part of the horizon and waved it dramatically,
"See? See that Ravi? That's my future calling. That's the greatness that lies in store for me. That's just desserts for a man so supremely gifted as me. So what if that bust is gone! There are bigger and better busts to go after, not to mention tight and rounded posteriors! This world is my oyster baby and I'm going to loot it off every last grain of sand! Are you with me you scoundrel, you vagrant, you ragamuffin with the heart of a lion and the physique of a hippo!"
Silence.
"I said, are you with me oh wise and faithful friend!"
Silence.
"Ravi?"

A brief splutter, before the moment was punctured by loud snoring. Manoj looked fondly at him as he lay curled up on the road with his thumb in his mouth, before fishing out his phone and starting taking pictures from various angles. You never know when you might need some leverage, he thought as he rounded off the shoot with a close-up of the goofy grin splashed across his face. He then patted him affectionately on the head before sitting cross-legged next to him. The faint sounds of a efficient radio cab service drew ever closer as he reached into his friend's jacket and took out the new edition of Penthouse. Make hay while the sun shines as they say, thought they probably didn't mean it the way he meant.

   

Fallen

He knew not what he saw in her eyes, he just knew he wanted more of it. He wanted to gaze deeper into those pools of ebony and onyx and lose himself in them. He wanted to engulf that soft silken body in a passionate embrace. He wanted to kiss and feel each and every inch of her being with his lips and fingers and toes and every other part of his body. He wanted to love her, lust for her, ravish her, caress her. He wanted to do all that and so much more. She was driving him crazy, this comely handmaiden of the gods. He knew not what he saw. But he knew he was lost.

He bent over her sleeping form and brushed a stray tendril of hair away from her face. Even in repose her face aroused so many emotions in him. The temptress had completely enchanted him. It was laughably cinematic, the ultimate dour cynical son of a bitch falling head-over-heels in love. And why wouldn't he! She was one in a million, nay one in a billion. Her name was etched across his soul in words of fire and he didn't want that agony to ever end. She made him feel alive. She made him live a thousand lifetimes in one moment. She was the missing piece of the puzzle, the balm to soothe the ache in his heart. She was his one, his everything! She was his soul mate.

He thought of kissing her velveteen cheeks, but that might awaken her and she looked so very lovely in sleep. He didn't want to mar this picture with his crass human foibles. He carefully let the sheet fall back over her and silently got off the bed. He cinched a robe across his naked body and walked over to the open balcony doors. The sun was only now beginning to peek its head over the horizon. He took a drink from the carafe of water standing on a nearby table and settled himself comfortably on a deck chair, cigarette in hand, to watch the onset of dawn. He did his best thinking with nicotine in his system and there was definitely much to think about.

Where were they headed from here? What did the future hold for the two of them? Was there even a conceivable future where the two of them could be together? Heck, he hadn't factored anything like this in his plans! He'd never believed in love anyway. He was going to be wild and free and careless till it was time for him to settle down, after which he'd find a nice decent woman to settle down with. But then she walked into the front door and threw everything into a tailspin. He just wanted to swoop her off her feet and flee with her to some remote magical fairy tale land where they can live happily ever after. He wanted to settle down now. He wanted to enjoy the routine humdrum life of a married couple. He wanted to experience everything possible in this world with her. She was a part of him now and he a part of hers.

This was not a fairy tale though, not by a long shot. This was the real world, a cruel unforgiving world which scoffed at such fanciful notions. Where were the finances, it'd ask. In fact where's the bloody maturity in all this! Both of you are not ready for anything like this! Just hormones screwing up your thought process buddy, would be the concluding jibe of this tirade. He barely had a plan for his own future; how could he even think of planning for the both of them! This was young love, everything around them was covered in a rosy haze right now. Who's to say that haze might not mutate into something poisonous! Who's to say they won't get bored of each other or wouldn't get attracted to other people! There were myriad number of things that could go wrong here. He should reel back, be rational and objective, take things one step at a time. That's the right way to go about things.

"Good morning sweetheart!"

He emerged from his reverie to see her standing in the doorway, the nascent sun lending her almost ethereal form a blazing fire like that of the seraphim. All his doubts and beliefs and opinions vanished in that one instant. All he could see or hear or even think of was her perfection. He gazed entranced as she floated towards him and settled effortlessly into his lap with her arms around him and her head burrowed into the crook of his shoulder. He automatically started stroking her hair as the sun finally broke free from the clutches of the horizon and emerged gloriously into the lightening skies. With that also lifted the weight from his heart. There was so much that could go wrong, so much that both of them were not prepared for. But it was all worth it, just for moments like this when his heart was glad and his spirit light and giddy. He loved her, loved her with every fibre and sinew of his being, and he'd continue to love her till the earth stopped doing its merry dance around the sun. It was a crazy screwy world anyway, their little bit of craziness wouldn't do much to change that. He was alive, well and truly alive and he'd be damned if he let anything spoil that!

He hugged her tighter and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. She crooned in his shoulder and snuggled even more into his arms. The morning sun, the uncomfortable deck chair, everything lay forgotten in that embrace. Two souls were one, now and forever more...

Peace

He hungered for what he knew not. He'd eschewed the fruits of this material earth long long ago, for they could never satiate this hunger of his. He'd sought solace in the wilderness, climbed mountains, plumbed ocean deeps, but that restlessness never left him. He meditated for ever and ever and ever, but peace still eluded him. Still this gnawing ache, still this irritating emptiness, still this wrenching incompleteness, and no relief in sight.

He let the pebble that he was holding drop back into the bubbling brook. The sun glinted off its smooth surface for a moment before it sank further down into the water. He leaned back against the tree he was sitting by and looked up at the sky. Another perfect day in the offing. Clear blue skies, a radiant but mellow sun, chirping birds, frolicking animals...blessed indeed was he to be able to perceive such beauty! Blessed was he for could open his eyes and see beyond the concrete constricting constructs of the teeming human populace, see beyond to these perfect little moments when the cosmic harmony blended inimitably with the deeper rhythm of the earth below him. A perfect, simply magnificent day this, yet this gnawing hunger.

He let out a deep sigh and got up from his comfortable perch. No epiphanies going to come his way here. He might as well have been back at his desk in the corner office for all the difference this was making. He started back for camp, musing on the futility of this personal quest of his. He had been searching for ages now it seemed. He'd experienced everything this world had to offer - physical, intellectual, spiritual, even mystical. What more could he do! How else could he still this wanderlust that wouldn't let him build a hearth and stay put! He had left families, friends, sons, daughters; anyone and everyone who had mattered or had the potential to matter was now a distant memory, as was he in their heads. He doubted they'd recognize him even if he ran into them on the street. He never regretted that though, still didn't. He'd played his roles to the hilt - husband, father, friend, brother - and ensured comfort and happiness for his loved ones. He'd been the ideal grihastha and now an even more ideal vanaprastha. But the ultimate, the sannyasa, still eluded him. The world still held him by the slenderest of tendrils.

What is stopping me, he fumed to himself as he stomped back to camp. Anger was a rare emotion for him and was thus all the more furious because of that. His head quivered with pent up rage and frustration. So many years, SO MANY YEARS since he adopted this life of a wayfarer. He was jaded, confused, shackled by society's mores. He needed to break free, take a step off the beaten track, take chances make mistakes live fecklessly and gloriously as he had never done before. And he'd done that; god he'd done that! He'd seen all that this wonderful glorious world of his had to offer! He should be calmer, quieter and much more still then he was now, but he wasn't. He was that same drone he'd been when he'd left so long ago, only much more restless. He hated this. He HATED this!

Somehow he found himself on his knees on the forest floor, digging his hands deep into the earth as if seeking solace from Mother Earth herself. Tears were flowing freely down his craggy face and onto the fertile soil below. In time he stopped weeping, though he continued to stay on all fours, too spent to even move. He slowly opened his eyes and looked dejectedly at the soil freshly turned by his own hands. Something sparkled at the edge of his vision and began to flow down towards the ground. Another tear, he thought and he watched with grim fascination as it made a slow leisurely track down his cheek, skirted the edges of his scraggly beard and teetered on the edge of his chin before falling gracefully towards the welcoming earth. He continued watching with rapt eyes as the drop impacted with the loam and got hungrily absorbed by the parched earth. No, not just the earth. Something else. He scraped the dirt carefully and caught a glint of green. A young sapling was peeking out at him and he watched fascinated as that tear, his tear, made its way inexorably towards its roots and got swallowed up. Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw the plant almost move in ecstasy.

He crawled back a bit so as not to damage the plant before getting back to his feet. His entire being was abuzz with something, he didn't know what. He tried to think, but his brain was dancing to a different tune altogether. All conscious thought was being drowned out by an overwhelming emotion that he couldn't comprehend. He looked at the leaves and they seemed so much greener. He smelled the earth and it seemed so much sweeter. His eyes, his ears, his every sense was being carried away by sheer wonder and delight. It was a breathtaking maddening rush that not even the most potent stimulant could replicate. All he could do was close his eyes and let the emotions and sensations wash over his exultant being. This was what he  had hungered for all his life, this sweet untainted ecstasy! His spirit kept soaring higher and higher with the rush of energy coursing through his being. It was all building up towards a magnificent crescendo and he knew he'd never be the same again after that.

Like that sapling fighting its way through the dark into glorious sunlight, his consciousness emerged from the darkness on the crest of that glorious wave of joy and wonderment into blinding brilliance. As the cosmic harmony peaked in every nerve and sinew of his body he finally saw the universe spread out in front of him; colossal in scale, awe-inspiring in its majesty, and so very beautiful. He had reached journey's end. He was one with the parmatman. He had not hunted in vain! A beatific smile spread across his face as he saw the many wonders of this universe unfold in front of him. This was nirvana. This was true eternal bliss!

He didn't know how long he stayed like that. Time and space had lost all meaning. After what seemed like eons he finally opened his eyes and found himself lying down on the forest floor. He got up, rubbed his eyes and looked around. It didn't seem like much time had passed since he had gone into his trance. Was it a trance though, or just the fevered imaginings of a troubled mind? It might all have been some fantastical dream that he was ascribing too much meaning too. But no. It wasn't like that. He was not the same man anymore. He didn't have that gnawing ache in his vitals. He was calmer and more serene than he had ever been. He looked over at the brave little sapling peeking its fragile head out of the earth and a smile spread across his face. His tears had given it life and it had in turn given him meaning. Detachment wasn't the answer. He couldn't reach out to broader horizons if he didn't explore his own first. He couldn't transcend this mortal realm till he became one with it. Every drop of sweat, blood and tears that he had in his body must go towards bringing good to this world. Wandering these verdant valleys and steep mountain-tops was worthless if he didn't embrace everyone and everything along the way. This was every man and woman and child's duty and only when he had fulfilled this purpose can he truly move on to the deeper meaning of existence. He had but a glimpse today of the glory that awaited him beyond the veil. It was for him now to turn it into reality.

He cleared the earth around the sapling and built a crude embankment around it with stones. He poured some more water on it from a nearby brook and watched with delight as the droplets on its tiny leaves sparkled in the sunlight. He thought about sticking around for a few more days till it was more developed, but it was a plucky little thing and he'd no doubt it would take good care of itself. He bowed his head in a final gesture of gratitude and struck out again for camp. The lark was on the wing, the sun bright in the sky and there was a spring in his step and a gleam in his eye. Finally, he was at peace.

The Guy with the Dragon Tattoo

"Just have some patience."

"Why!"

"I know you will take some time to adjust."

"Why did you create the need for me to adjust!"

"It's just a phase I'm going through."

"What about my feelings?"

"I understand and respect your feelings, but...but...I just can't help it ok! It just happens!"

"Do you want it to happen?"

"No...um...I don't know. I'm not sure."

"Not sure? NOT SURE?"

"Um hmm."

"Now what the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know ok! Just give me some space!"

Simi glared at Sam as he started pacing nervously around the cramped flat. Not for the first time she wondered just what the hell she saw in this guy. He was scruffy as hell, didn't look at all presentable and seriously had a screw loose somewhere. Add to that his erratic behaviour and outrageous manias and he was certainly not husband material by any means whatsoever. Then again, she was too young to find husband material. This guy was fun; he could be depended on for sourcing weed and vodka at odd hours; and the sex was bed-breakingly amazing! But they were not indulging in any of these activities right now, so the only thing left for her to do now was fume at the dragon tattoo on the back of his newly shaved head.

It was not a bad tattoo to be honest. The artist had showered much love and attention and myriad coloured inks over this one. The flames coming out of the dragon's mouth were particularly vivid. But all that Simi's jaundiced eyes could see right now was a big coloured blob smack on the back of her boyfriend's head, not to mention the utter absence of hair on said head. She wasn't a particularly big fan of his hair - what with the food bits she kept finding in that unwashed mass - but it was still a darned sight better than this gleaming oily dome-shaped monstrosity with an oriental design that was creeping the hell out of her.

"Why the fuck would you do something like this?"

Sam stopped pacing and flopped down on the sofa at one end of the room, giving Simi a lot more space for maneuvering and dramatic expressions.

"Well?" she said, shaking her hands for said dramatic effect.

"Well what!"

"Why the FUCK would you do something like this!"

"Felt like it," Sam replied, trying gamely to sound nonchalant.

"Felt like it? FELT LIKE IT! The guy says he felt like it!" Simi said in sarcastic aside to the wall, "Was that the reason you shaved your head too? Because you 'felt like it'?"

"Of course I had to go bald! How else could I have gotten the tattoo!"

Simi wanted to wring his neck, but her thirst for information was not yet quenched. She controlled her baser instincts and probed further.

"Ok ok," she said in a calm tone that was more for her own benefit, "so you got a tattoo because you felt like it."

"Yup."

"Like the first one that you got on your bicep."

"Um hmm."

"And that idiotic elephant on your chest."

"Hey! It's a cool tattoo!"

"And that fucking snake on your dick!"

"I thought you liked that one!"

"Dude you couldn't fuck for three weeks after you got that! How the hell could you think I liked it!"

"But it got better right? You don't have any complaints now."

"No complaints? I feel like a fucking zoo animal now every time I go down on that thing!"

"You still do it though," Sam replied rather smugly.

"I close my eyes....What the fuck! That's not the point! Don't distract me!"

"Maybe you want to be distracted," he leered, "that can be arranged..."

"Fuck you bastard! I'm not touching you unless it is to beat you senseless with that tennis racquet!" pointing at a very solid looking implement hanging above the sofa.

"I can go for that baby. Sounds dirty."

"Oh shut up!"

Simi sank down on the floor with her head in her hands. She hadn't signed up for this! Sure he was into tattooing himself, but whatever foul monstrosities he inked on his person were mostly shielded from the public (except for beaches and drinking binges which invariably ended with him exposing himself in some form or the other). Hell, she got a kick out of them sometimes, especially that growing snake! But the idiot had now gone and gotten a big fucking dragon that looked like something out of a bad 'shroom trip! How the fuck was she supposed to live with that thing!

"HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO BE OKAY WITH THIS?"

Sam was bemused at that question. It was a loaded question that, a question that beggared any correct response. He was a person who lived in the moment, who was stoned and/or high (he didn't remember exactly) when he saw a porn video where the male lead was sporting a similar look. This was the way he got all his tattoo ideas - including the snake on his john - and he thought nothing of once again emulating his idol Randy Banger. Maybe it was some obsessive gay crush he had for that guy, or he wanted to imbibe his legendary sexual prowess, or he just got too fucking stoned and/or high too many times. Whatever it was, he had gone ahead and done it, caring not one whit for what Simi would say. She was a cool chick, his brain said. She'd go wild and fall all over him, the scumbag continued. It was deep anti-establishment shit this tattoo; it cocked a snook at all that this decrepit defunct society held dear; it was just simply awesome! He was thus, very very obviously NOT prepared for this question.

"Er..." he started timidly, "I thought...er...that is to say I was thinking that...um..."

"You thought? You actually thought and went through with this?"

"Yeah...I mean no...I mean...it looked cool!"

"Looked cool where?"

"On that new Randy Banger video...."

"WHAT?"

Oh shit, he thought as she started to turn red. Not a good time for a brain fart.

"YOU. COPIED. THIS. IDEA. FROM. A. PORN. MOVIE!" she thundered, punctuating each word with barely controlled rage.

"No no no! You misheard me! It was not Randy Banger. It was...it was Mandy Moore! Yes! Mandy Moore. That's who it was!"

Simi got up from her beanbag and started stalking ominously towards him. He sank further into his sofa and fervently wished to be elsewhere.

"Mandy Moore you say," she hissed through clenched teeth, her fists balled up so tight her knuckles were white, "You are telling me that Mandy Moore is bald and has a stupid multi-coloured dragon on her head!"

"No no no! I obviously didn't mean her! I saw some back-up dancer with this look."

"What song?"

"Hunh?"

"WHAT SONG!"

"I don't remember! How am I supposed to remember! I am not the Mandy Moore Fan Club President or something!"

She was towering over him now like some other-worldly colossus. Her flaring nostrils looked particularly gigantic from his vantage point, i.e. flat on his back and cowering in terror on a very exposed sofa. Simi looked at the pathetic worm wriggling under her furious glare and wondered for the umpteenth and oneth time about why she banged this bozo. Sex can't be worth this much idiocy!

"So let me get this straight," she said slowly, the ominous sound of approaching thunder laced in every syllable, "You copied a tattoo from a music video you don't remember by an artist you don't like?"

"Er...yes..." was the timid reply.

Sam cowered even more as her body started trembling with rage. His tattoo was itching, his briefs were scrunched too far up his ass crack and he really really needed to pee; yet he dared not move a muscle for there was something about the way her eyes were popping out that made him eschew any sudden movements. He was a nutter yes, but not a suicidal nutter. The best he could hope for now was to curl up into a ball and hope she didn't break something. So he closed his eyes, did his best impression of an armadillo and waited for it to end.

Simi snorted with disgust as she saw his self-preservation tactic unfold. Never one to accord much respect to this Neanderthal, she was even more disdainful of this blatant display of cowardice. A hotted-up girl bursting at the seams needs a captive audience, an aspen that will bend when she rages and take a few scratches here and there for dramatic effect; but this pussy was depriving her of that joy too. She raised her foot and poked him sharply in the soft part of his stomach.

"Ow!"

"Stop...cowering...like...a...weasel!" she spat out, punctuating each word with another sharp poke.

"Stop doing that!" he screamed.

"Then start fucking behaving like a man you bitch!" concluding the statement with another emphatic kick.

"OW!" was the response as Sam finally scampered off the sofa and fell on the floor in an ungainly heap. He in fact contrived to fall in such a way that the offending tattoo was bang in the middle of Simi's sights. She obviously blew a gasket.

The next few minutes were a flurry of arms and legs and sharp pig-like squeals. Simi was Nemesis in the flesh, deadlier than a brood of famished harpies and twice as more pissed off. Sam meanwhile was literally being downtrodden as he suffered a barrage of kicks and stomps and punches, trying all the while to somehow disentangle his left arm from his right ankle and vice versa. He eventually managed that feat and rolled away before she could land another blow. He then rose immediately to his feet and backed away into the farthest corner possible. That didn't deter Simi though. She could have taken apart an army battalion with her bare hands in the mood she was in. Her clenched fists were literally thrumming with unleashed fury, as were her furious eyes and menacing prowl towards her victim.  

"That's enough Simi!" Sam shrieked, trembling at her approach, "You...you can't do this."

"I can't do what!" she growled in response, continuing to prowl towards him.

"You can't hit me!"

"Why not? You are a lazy fucking idiot who can't find the right end of an exhaust pipe without any directions! Why the fuck should I not hit you!"

"Because...because...because I'll hit you back!"

"Oh really! Try that you fucking piece of shit and I'll have every cop in the district buggering you in the ass!"

"You wouldn't do that!"

"Try me dipshit!"

The situation was getting extremely dire for the tattoo aficionado. Like Simi he didn't expect too much from this relationship. She was hot enough, she was an amazing fuck and she kept him well-fed. But was it really worth this much peril to his physical well-being? His body was just now realizing the full extent of the damage that it had suffered and it was strongly against enduring more of the same. He had to put this female in her place and do it fast before she started scratching him in earnest.

"Wait. Stop!"

"Why should I!"

"You can't hit me! This is not the way to treat your boyfriend!"

"Who says!"

"I says...I mean I say! You can't hit me, or else..."

"Or else what?"

"Or else I will break up with you!"

If he had expected to shake her up in some profoundly metaphysical way he was sadly mistaken. She didn't even flinch. She did pause though, which was good enough under the circumstances. He gave a silent prayer of thanks and slumped against the wall behind him, though he still kept an eye out for sudden movements. You can never be sure with the fairer sex. Here today, gone tomorrow.

The comely representative of said sex was meanwhile deep in thought. Her long lustrous hair that normally made his gonads turn cartwheels were shielding her face from him though, so he had no clue at all what she was thinking. Not that he was particularly curious. Chances were that she was going to jump on him with claws outstretched any second now, so he might as well enjoy what little quiescence was there in his lot. He sent a furtive hand down the back of his pants and adjusted his scrunched up briefs. If I could just get to pee now, he thought as he completed the adjustments. Life would start to look on the up again.

A couple of minutes passed without any sudden movements or claw work from Simi. Ever an eternal optimist, Sam started regaining some of his joie de vivre. Poor angel, he thought smugly, she was probably terrified at the prospect of a life without him and must be even now shedding silent tears behind that ebony veil. His heart went out to her, as did some other important part of his anatomy. Some affinity for vulnerable girls maybe. Once he had had his pee he would go and comfort the poor girl and then show her a good time; a really good time. He was just about to get up and complete the first part of this fantasy when the suffering angel raised her head and brushed the hair back from it. The anger seemed to have been replaced by a calmer and more sober visage. She wised up quick, his inflated ego whispered as he began to extend his hand toward her.

"Where do you get the weed?"

The question threw him a bit. Simi had never expressed much curiosity in this department. He got it, she smoked it. That was the deal. Everybody's happy. This sudden thirst for knowledge after all this kerfuffle was thus a bit puzzling. Then again, this day had been chock-a-block full of surprises. Add one more to the list.

"Er...well there's this place near the station..."

"Can you write it down?"

"Hunh?"

Simi immediately grabbed a pen and a notepad from a nearby cabinet and thrust them in his hand.

"Write."

"Hunh?"

"Write!"

"Write what?"

"Weed."

"You want me to write weed?"

"What the fuck....where the hell do you get the fuckin' weed! Just write down the address!"

"I don't know the address..."

"Directions, phone number, sketches, whatever the hell you can do, just fuckin' do it!"

Sam immediately got down to work, his new-found confidence very much deflated by her sudden belligerence. He was more than a little convinced now that Simi was off her rocker, and once again the internal debate about the viability of this relationship was raging in his bosom. Then he got a look at her bosom and forgot all about that crap. Anything was worth one more crack at that! He scribbled the rest of it with a flourish and handed it back to her.

"The deed is done m'lady," he crooned, adding a theatrical bow for effect.

The damsel thus addressed looked decidedly disgusted by the gesture. She scanned the paper once to satisfy herself about the veracity of its contents. Satisfied, she folded it up and kept it securely in her purse. She then turned towards her hopeful paramour who was still in a supplicant position.

"Don't I get my reward now?" Sam asked in a decidedly lecherous voice, leering to boot.

Simi's frame quivered once under some great emotion before settling down into an ominous stillness. The faux knight was clueless as always as his mind wandered the realms of carnal desires. So it was no wonder when she asked him in too sweet a voice to "close his eyes" that he graciously obliged. She immediately picked up the racquet from where it hung on the wall and circled around to his backside. She swung her arms experimentally, assessed the required force and trajectory and then proceeded to plant a satisfying wallop on his behind.

Sam's first unconscious thought was that his intestine had for some mysterious reason lodged itself in his throat. His second unconscious musing was on the sudden change in equilibrium his body was experiencing. By the time the pain registered he was already hurtling towards the floor and planting his face smack bang in the middle of it.

"OOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!"

Simi advanced on him with grim purpose written all over her face. There was a job to be done today and she wouldn't rest until she'd gotten it out of the way. She wound up and hit again.

"AAAAAHHHH!!!!"
And again.
"EEEEYYYYAAAAA!!!!"
And again.
"MMMNGGPFFFF!!!!" came the muffled response this time as his hand jammed against his mouth.
"Break up with me will you, you piece of shit!!!" she shrieked, continuing to beat him black and blue.
"Oww oww oww oww oww!!!"
"Try to manipulate me will you, you bloody asshole!!!"
"Stop that bitch!" he thundered in a belated attempt to regain control.
"Fuck you!" she rejoined with a particularly wicked wallop.
"OWWW!!!"

Sam had regained his feet by this point and was running around the room like a headless chicken with Simi and the racquet in hot pursuit. It took him a couple of minutes and some very painful strikes more before he could figure out where the door was. He immediately made a beeline for it and started struggling with the bolts. She stopped just a few feet away and observed his machinations.

"Listen," she said after a few moments.
He jumped literally two feet in the air at that. He hadn't realized that danger loomed so close and turned around instantly to shield his smarting back side against the door.
"Hunh?" he replied.
"I wanted to say something."
"Ok. But don't hit me!"
"I'm not going to hit you you baby! Just listen."
"Ok."
"I'm breaking up with you."
Sam stared stupidly at her for a bit before replying indignantly,
"Hey! You can't do that!"
"Why not?"
"I was gonna do that!"
"Really?"
"Of course really! I threatened to do that didn't I?"
"I saw the way you were looking at my boobs you bastard. A break-up was most definitely not on your mind!"
"Er...Hey...Ah...I'm not going to stand around here and have my character questioned like that!"
"So don't. Leave and don't come back."

Sam mulled that over. The idea seemed very charming to his distraught buttocks, but his loins didn't seem particularly pleased at the prospect. The boobs in question were spectacular after all.

"Baby don't do this! We can work things out. I know we can."
"Can you get that friggin' dragon removed?"
"Of course not! It's a work of art! And laser surgery is so fucking expensive anyway."
"Then we can't work things out. It's best you leave now before things get ugly."
"Ugly?"
"Yes. Ugly," she replied, the racquet swinging ominously in her hand.

He gulped, then turned around and started unlocking the door frantically. Better get out of here fast while he had the chance. Affairs of the heart could wait for a new day. If he stuck around any longer this female would massacre him. He finally got the last latch undone and was out of the house in a jiffy,  ice-baths and soft downy cushions uppermost on his mind.

Simi bolted the door behind him then went back and hung back the racquet carefully. Hopefully she hadn't done any lasting damage to it. The flat was in some amount of disarray because of recent events, but that piece of housekeeping could wait. All she wanted right now was a nice big couch and an equally nice cool beer. The lark was on the wing and everything was all right with the world again. That blithering idiot and his fucking dragon were out of her life after all. Plus there was enough vodka and weed stocked up to last her some while yet. Ideal really this. A zombie apocalypse could strike right now and she wouldn't bat an eyelid.

I'm going to miss the sex though, she mused as she and her beer ensconced themselves snugly in the couch. He did know his stuff. Probably picked up tips from that Randy Banger fellow or something. Maybe I should check this guy out, see what the fuss is about. She got up immediately and retired to her bedroom where her laptop and an internet connection with unlimited download awaited. Might as well celebrate her emancipation in style.

Story of a Psychopath

(I wrote this one a long long time back. Funny how things have changed since then. Anyway, moving on...)

You know that little voice in your head? Yeah, that sanctimonious self-righteous s.o.b in the back of your head that’s always cribs and cries and never lets you have fun. Whether you’re pushing around that dork in school with those nerdy spectacles and plastic retainer or trying to get it on with the drunk bitch at the party, that irritating whine is always there in your head, bitching and nagging all the time till you give up and go along with it just to make it shut up. Drives you up the wall, doesn’t it? And don’t give me all that shit about ‘doing the right thing’. If I don’t get anything out of it, then it’s definitely not the right thing. That’s why I killed off that whiny little bastard in my head a long time back, and that’s why I’m called a psychopath.

It started with an expulsion from school when I put a bozo in the hospital with a shattered kneecap. Not my fault really. If he had just handed over his money I wouldn’t have taken that two-by-four to his knee. Authorities, of course, chose to look at it differently. I had been on probation for other misdemeanours anyway. Everything after that was just a natural progression I guess. Schools bounced me around. Therapists tried and failed. More and more people ended up in casualty wards and angry parents started baying for blood. I already had one foot in jail before my parents decided to have me committed and packed me off to a mental hospital.

The one year I spent in that place was hell. My entire world was restricted to a 6-by-8 padded cell and I spent agonizing hours screaming my head off at those plain white walls. When the drugs they put in my food failed to calm me down, they resorted to electroshock therapy. Three times a week they strapped me to the chair, placed those electrodes all over my body and let the high-voltage current fry my nerves. Three times a week I twitched and jerked in terrible agony and tried to get the screams past my gagged mouth. They tried their best to break me, but of course they had to fail. A lax moment on their part and I was able to get my hands on a screwdriver on the way out of the therapy room. A thrust here, a stab there and I got rid of the two orderlies and the doctor. It was a simple matter after that – to exchange clothes with an orderly, stash the bodies in the closet and stroll nonchalantly out of the place. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

I started living on the streets after that; there was no sense in going home after all this. Sure, the streets are full of predators ready to pounce on you, but after I carved up a few punks who tried to gang up on me, everybody else gave me a wide berth. I got by pretty well out there, mugging passers-by, having the occasional bit of fun if they were female. I got into drugs after a while, and life became an interminable haze of ecstatic highs, followed by tortuous lows that lasted till my next fix. Drugs are an expensive habit, so I started peddling to pay for my fixes. I kept to dealing in the cheap low-grade stuff so the established syndicates largely left me alone. Those who didn’t, I took care of.

It didn’t take long for things to spiral out of control. The drugs began messing with my head, making me more paranoid with every second. I began to see enemies everywhere around me. I felt hemmed in, suffocated. I needed air. I had to escape. And I did that the only way I knew.

My first kill was in a stinking garbage-strewn alley. The idiot was hopelessly drunk and tried to fight me. I took care of him with my knife. My blood-lust was satisfied for a bit, but I needed much more.

I had much more fun with the next one. I paid a prostitute for a full ten minutes, after which I strangled her with my bare hands and left her nude body in a garbage bin. I wonder if anybody ever discovered her.

I began to vary my fun with each kill. Bat, chain, knife, poison, acid – I used them all. One thing I never used though was a gun. It’s too neat you see, not to mention noisy. I used to chop off the nose and ears too, you know, like a trademark. It got pretty popular with the press. Not a good thing in hindsight, I guess, seeing that I began to attract police attention. I don’t how, but they managed to track me down. I was lying in a drugged stupor in my rented room when they came barging in. Next thing you know, I was behind bars.

I’ve been sentenced to life imprisonment. There are no padded cells. No electric shocks await me. But it’s still A GODDAMN FRIGGIN’ CELL I WANT OUT I can’t live like this!

You know the funny thing about jails? You can find all the things that you normally find only in the outside world. You just have to know the right people. A few greased palms here and there and within no time at all you can get a SIM card, or maybe even a box of reefers. Not for me though. No sirree! I got myself a magic pill. A pill that’s going to solve all my problems, a pill that’s going to free me from these man-made confines, from the shackles of this sick, twisted world, forever. Just like that song you know –

“Swallow it done, it’s just a jagged little pill.”

One gulp. That's it. I'll be on an everlasting high after this one...

Lady of the Night

Ravi knew not what he was doing. That had been pretty apparent for a while now. His vision was blurring around the edges, his hands shaking like an aspen in the breeze and his eyes starting like jelly out of their sockets. The world looked pretty screwy to his sozzled brain at that point and he was trying hard not to notice the way the bartender seemed to be transforming into conjoined triplets right in front of him. He took one more comforting sip from his glass and soaked gratefully in the resultant glow.

"Why izz liiife shuch a bitchhh man?"

"Pardon sir?"

"Why izz liife such a bitch?"

"Ah...I don't know sir."

"You happy with yours?"

"Reasonably enough, though I do want a new cocktail shaker. This one leaks."

"It does, does it?"

"Yes sir."

"So does life maaannnn! Remember that!"

"Sure sir."

Ravi downed the remaining alcohol as the barkeep returned to cleaning his precious glasses. The warmth flared up for a second into a blazing inferno before settling down into something more user-friendly. He ordered a refill from the friendly barkeep and turned back to staring morosely at the people partying behind him.

It was a normal average Friday night at a normal average trendy disc where normal average people dressed to the nines and literally drowning in make-up were letting it all go normally and averagely. And Ravi was cutting a lone sorry figure at the bar counter as the normal average stag guy who had tagged along with a bunch of couples and ended up paying through his teeth for entry. Is this worth it, he wondered for the umpteenth time as the couples of his party got down to serious hot and heavy stuff on the dance floor, is it really worth the pain and humiliation of being the only lonely bugger in this entire joint while Vikas keeps on groping Malti like it's no one's business? And god knows what John and Seema were doing alone in that corner! What a sorry sorry existence this is, Ravi concluded as the Sukhbir and Leena started making out openly barely three feet away from him. It was Friday night, he was drunk of his ass and there was no one to share this new-found vim and vigour with. Might as well call it a day and go play bridge with his grandfather and his retired chums like he normally did. Better than this irritating crap.

The barkeep, ministering angel that he was, chose this exact cue to enter with the refill. Ravi turned back to the counter with a grateful sigh and proceeded to lift the glass. I say proceeded, for a lilting feminine voice halted him in his tracks.

"Hi! Do you have the time?"

The glass stopped scant inches from his lips. He turned to where the voice came from and his jaw immediately dropped. The voice belonged to a very nice face with just the right shade of lipstick and oodles of glossy black hair flowing down it. The very nice face was in turn attached to a very very nice body that promised a lot beneath the deep-cut red-hot dress it was covered by. He gawked and gulped like a fish out of water, but those legs just wouldn't end. So he yanked his gaze right back to her eyes and tried not to look down too much.

"Excuse me? Hello!"

"Ah...glug!"

"Pardon?"

"Gah!"

"You'll have to speak up! It is too noisy in here!"

Ravi leaned in and almost burst a gasket at the vista that opened up in front of him. That was a really low-cut dress! 

"Ten to midnight."

"What?"

"Ten to midnight!"

"Twelve?"

"No ten!"

"Ah! Glad we got that straight."

"Me too...hic!"

"Bless you."

"Thanks."

If there had been a rope Ravi would have hung himself with it by now. Not that he had the slightest chance in hell of doing anything productive with this bombshell, but he could have certainly done without the whiskey hiccups at this stage. He hurriedly put down his drink and pushed it aside. 

"Crazy party hunh!"

"Puh...puh...party?" Ravi stuttered, shocked that this heavenly angel still wanted to talk to him.

"Yeah. Aren't you Rashmi's friend?"

"No."

"Funny. I thought you looked familiar."

"No wait...I know her... no, I mean...as in, I would love to know her."

"Really?" she replied, her eyes twinkling like twin sapphires.

"Why not? Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"How sweet! I almost find myself believing that crap."

"Crap? Er...crap? What crap? I see no crap. I speak the truth in the deepest truest sense of the word!"

"So if I tell you right now that I am going to continue talking to you even though I so obviously don't know you, then would you persist in befriending Rashmi?"

"Who's Rashmi anyway?"

"That woman right there, in the canary yellow dress."

"The pudgy one with frizzy hair?"

"Yeah that's the one, though the operative word is healthy and not pudgy."

"Um...I'm sure she is a wonderful lady..."

"But you wouldn't touch her with a barge pole."

"I would like to avoid that if you don't mind."

"That's quite all right. She is a bitch anyway!"

The woman proceeded to take the stool next to him. His drunken mind might have been playing tricks on him, but he thought she sidled a wee bit closer towards him too. He took the chance and leaned even closer towards her. She smiled playfully at that and leaned in even more closer herself.

"I'll tell you a little secret," she whispered, her hot breath sending chills down his spine.

"Ugh!" he replied eruditely.

"I think you are cute."

Ravi immediately crossed his fingers behind his back and clutched the wooden counter-top harder. This seemed too good to be true.

"And I know you find me cute too", she continued, running a finger teasingly down his shirt-front.

"Ungh ungh."

Her lips were almost touching his ear now. He tried not to shiver.

"So what do you think about leaving this joint and having our very own private party?"

Ravi couldn't stop a shiver going up and down his entire body at that. This was straight out of Naughty America! There had to be a catch!

Of course she chose that very moment to send her tongue exploring down his ear lobe. From that point on he was lost. He wanted her, no matter how much it cost.

"Ten thousand bucks honey and I'm all yours all night long!"

The rosy haze abated for a bit, enabling cold logic and calm reasoning to prevail for a bit. The testosterone still raged in the background, but even it knew enough to back off when such matters were concerned. Here's what cool calm logic came up with –

• Pro – She is HOT!

     Con – He didn’t have ten thousand.

• Pro – She is so HOT!

     Con – He had no chance in hell of borrowing any more money from anyone else.

• Pro – HOT!

     Con – AIDS

• Pro – HOT!

     Con – Empty meaningless fake sex

• Pro – HOT HOT HOT!

     Con...Oh why do I even bother!

So here was Ravi, drunk, broke, lonely, depressed and oh so very horny! And here was the answer to all his problems nibbling at his ear lobe; mere currency notes separating him from more decadent pleasures. He had to have her. He had to!

“Um...couldn’t you be mine all night long for a little bit lower?”

The nibbling stopped immediately. She drew back and looked a little less warmly at him.

“I’m not cheap bub! Do you see all this?” she said, running a haughty hand up and down her body, “You think this is worth anything less?”

“Err...no, of course not, I didn’t want to offend you...but ten thousand is a bit steep...”

“Steep...why you little...this is Grade A top class stuff in front of you and you are haggling?”

The rosy haze had decidedly abated by now. There seemed to be a bit too much blush on her right cheek now, but she was still quite quite hot.

“This is not haggling...er...sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

“Bella.”

“Bella?”

“Yeah, Bella.”

“That your real name?”

“Of course not! I won’t go around telling johns my real name!”

“Fair enough. Why did you choose Bella then?”

“Why not? Seems like the in-thing these days. Exotic sounding too.”

“True true...so anyway Bella, I’m not haggling. Like you said, I’m cute and you are definitely very very attractive. I’m just trying to get us together with minimum fuss.”

“So fork over ten thousand then. I won’t make any fuss whatsoever.”

“But shouldn’t you give me a concession, seeing that you find me cute and all?”

“What crap! I tell that to every client. You’re no different buddy.”

The haze was vanishing faster now. Not only did she have too much blush on both cheeks, her lipstick was too loud and her dress was definitely too damn low to be called anything else but slutty. But boy was that cleavage amazing!

“Ok ok, no need to get personal. Let’s get down to brass tacks then.”

“Fine.”

“You want ten thousand.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t have ten thousand.”

“How much do you have then?”

“Five, max.”

“Final?”

“Anything more and I’d have to sell my house.”

She bit her lip as she mulled over the offer. She was definitely not looking that attractive anymore. The hair was obviously a wig and the legs were propped up by six-inch heels. All that glitters is not gold; though it might it be silicone, he mused as he caught another glimpse of her bosom. Still, he had nothing better to do and silicone would definitely be a new experience. He was about open his mouth to seek confirmation this point when he caught her looking at something behind him. Further enquiry revealed a forty-something balding man in a shiny disco shirt whose protruding belly seemed to have a life of its own as he indulged in some eccentric dance moves. A heavy gold chain around his neck completed the ensemble and it was at this accessory that the erstwhile sex-bomb was staring hungrily.

“How much do you think that chain is worth?” she said almost dreamily.

“I don’t know, but looks quite expensive.”

“More than 10k right?”

“Much more. You don’t know how expensive gold is these days.”

“Yeah, expensive...”

She got up in a trance and began to move towards the chap. Ravi looked stupidly at this for a bit, before he jerked back to reality and grabbed her hand.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

The woman wrinkled her nose at him and immediately freed herself from his grasp. She began to move away again.

“Hey wait! What happened to our deal?”

She turned around at that and shot back at him,

“Deal? What deal? Whose deal? I remember no deal!”

“But...but...ten thousand...”

“You mean five thousand right, you cheap bastard!”

“I can make it six if you want. But that’s all I can do.”

“Oh how flattering! So much money for little ‘ol me?”

“Er...yes.”

“Well here’s what you can do with all your money!” she growled, making some innovatively rude hand gestures and stomping off.

He stared flabbergasted at her retreating back as she made her way through the throng. His gonads were crying out in anguish, but there was nothing he could do to assuage their pain. He could only continue watching dumbly as she engaged her new prey and began cosying up to him within no time at all. This ladies and gentlemen, he thought as he turned back to the bar, has to be the biggest, stupidest and most bloody miserable cock-block of all time. He settled his tab, downed his remaining drink and stumbled hurriedly out of the disc just as Vikas led a giggling Seema into another dark corner. Obviously, no one noticed his exit.