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Sunday, February 06, 2005

tinkling death bells

Over to the aisles of memories, smeared by the chanting of garrulous talk, past the corridors of winding crossroads evaporated with the husk of a caring voice, the mimics of childish assaults in grungy surroundings, the rampant beat of the gushing merriness…. Unobtrusive innocence is a parody for the sulkiest lot.


Early spring morning when the birds twittered and chirped their laconic tunes, the sun’s glowing bosom fed her it’s nourishing warmth and the dawdling breeze sang to her the beauty of the dawn. She was told to wake up from the grungy yet a cozy pavilion bed when the sun’s enigmatic lust swept through her tiny body narrowing down the gaps of the chilly night’s numbness with its cemented and mystic heat. She was a perfect disciplinarian, a true disciple of the nature for the past thirteen years and continued to be an assiduous pupil. Rummaging around her worn out clothes, she picked her regular satchel and hoped down the Bi-furcated lane to work. She had been working for the past seven years to feed her seven siblings who were maliciously welcomed into this world due to her father’s ever-hungry groin. Her mother had deserted them when she was six. Since then, her naked body bore rewarding caricatures of burns and itchy scars from diligent labor and her equally diligent drunkard father. She was a rag picker. The dawn saw her moving ahead like a single wave, slow in its approach but shrewd to the extent of gaining perpetual profits while dusk witnessed her being bludgeoned amidst her own flock of ugly geese.

That morning, she woke up as usual and ran to her favorite work place. Behind a cloud of architectural intricacies, her work ground was ceremoniously surrounded by fencing pillars that served as a dumping womb of garbage and ruined diapers. She usually collected diapers for her younger brother, and for the regular loaf of bread, she gathered tins, tequila bottles, newspapers, and polyethene covers. Some times, she was lucky to find discarded food cans, which contained expired food that later served as a spicy soup to her co-mates. Slowly morning drifted its charm toward the fencing pillars and cast strong shadows. The scorching heat plummeted her resistance to work and she couched under the branches of a tree. Faraway, something glittery caught her eyes. A work alcoholic, she was, summed up her strength under the shrouded blankets of curiosity and walked toward the object that caught her attention. Sleek and shiny, it was a safety pin resting on top of a small paper box. Now, it was the picture on the box that popped her eyes out more than the glitter of the pin. She saw nude pictures of a man and a woman. She knew it was something gross not meant for display at her employer’s table. At the same moment, a sudden tinge of eagerness to possess the card took over her and she carefully treasured it in her worn out satchel. After the day’s hectic schedule, she landed back at her pavilion under the green roof. The night under the roof dawned with the regular cries of her drunkard father. According to the routine, she had her share of submittal abuse followed by thick basting for not being able to feed her father with extra “daaru.” But that night, the lady luck of the house, rolled the dice in a more audacious and blatant fashion. The inebriated father suspected his daughter of hornswoggling…. And as lady luck held the delicate strings of this green roof, the man searched her satchel for money and found instead the treasured possession. A mad fit of fury rushed his intoxicated channels turning him red and rendering the poor girl cold and blue. “ Bitch! How long have you been using this thing??? How many men, have you slept with?” ---these questions echoed the tacky house and the cool spring night mimicked the magi in witnessing the death of their diligent pupil.

The sun rose again. The day dawned with its charming stupor but with an exception. The sun now fed its warmth to the next girl in succession. Now, she inherited the family responsibility and had graduated from being a prankster to a rag picker. She now, bore the weight of the walls and roof of her house. Just one week after her acquired insignia, the green roof squeaked in happiness at the snuffed out old hag. The old hag’s colleagues visited the tacky house to pay their last tributes. One of them, a burly man in his early fifties came forward and explained to the older kid that her father had died because of a deadly disease called AIDS. “ Your father died of AIDS. He died because he did not use this.” (He showed the new rag picker, the treasured possession that took their father and sister away from them.). Innocence in all its perpetual glory surfaced back on the tiny face of the rag- picker and she said: “my father died because he did not use this…. But my sister died because she used this…” and then she asked: “what do you think I should do? I do not wish to die like them. Should I use it or should I not?”. A satanic smile slipped from the visage of this burly figure, and all the other six plants planted under this green-roofed house succumbed to the whims and fancies of the devouring men.

The sun has risen again and again…the day dawned regularly and each new day brought with it the glory of basking evil…dark and gray, the peyote’s running in every body ….with death bells tinkling all over, ignorance and innocence have fled….the illumination of goodness remains hazy and ethereal…its presence being washed over by the stupor of malice and greed….evil is hitting us and cowards we are, for we drown ourselves into its gray well…….

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

dawn of the dusk....(masti in full swing..)

The final beginning or the dawn of the dusk??..anywys, this post is a reminder to all bloggers in my blogistan world that i havent yet disappeared from the face of earth..(mother earth, needs me badly..cannot disappoint her..)and i shall continue my postings as usual..(so,i hope there wudnt be any more enquiring frantic mails..)

guess, the last post had a mesmerizing touch with the my proffs...so,finally ...no reexams..and i have passed through all papers with an overall SGPA of 7.1(not bad, i guess for all the tragic scenes and long post of lamenting..)

Had loads of fun at the NIFT-SPECTRUM-2K5, awesome events with a cool n funky fashion show...fashion, blooms everywhere..the ramp saw all kinds of styles..punk, hip-hop to trance n spiritual enigma..the culutural fest was stupendous too..And as far as literary activities were concerned, i had had sincerly imitated lord krishna by blowing the conch for the battle of words n opinions (moi, was the organizer for the debate competition)...

After spectrum -2k5, moi, looking forward to the IIIT-FEST(FELICITY)...guess, i'll have loads of fun there..looking forward to 4th night when bombay vikings would spell their magic on all music fans at IIIT...