Sunday, August 7, 2011

A Beautiful Day

He stood tall, wore a jacket over his t-shirt and jeans faded from being worn too much. 

His clothes were nondescript, gray, like an old movie with no sound. He walked down the stairs while pulling out a set of keys from his pocket. A flash of color, a bright yellow key chain dangled.

As he opened the door and inhaled the fresh air, the cold rushed into his lungs, wiping away the last remaining vestiges of sleep. A beautiful morning. A shadow of a smile played on his face, almost not even there. His eyes closed as he remembered those moments past that kept pushing him along. All those moments past.

His eyes opened slowly, reluctant to face the real world. The smile vanished, washed away by pain.All those moments past, now lost.

At least it was still a beautiful morning. It was early, too early for the sun. It was that time between Night and Day, the dark is gone and the sun lies just beyond our sight. You look around and you can see, but its not day yet,rather the entire world lies in the Shadow, and is lit by an ethereal blue light.

He walked to his bike,putting on a pair of shades. As he sat down and turned the key in the ignition, he placed his hand on the throttle. Worn but well maintained, he had restored this 89 model bike to his preference,and it was reassuring to the touch.He had bought it with money he saved up from his first job, which made it even more precious.As he kick started the bike and revved the throttle, the silence ,so deep around him, was broken by the steady throbbing of the 500 cc engine.

He rode out.

The city is still asleep,save for a few. He rode through the scant traffic,to where the concrete gave way to the wet ground,where the buildings were replaced by trees. 

Here,the world was Green.

He opened up the throttle,and the bike replied. The engine roared as he sped past, filling the air with the rhythmic beat of his ride.He changed gears with a satisfying click,and accelerated. The wind whipped around him, as the whistling in his ear turned into a scream.The road melted away...

She stands at the edge of the lake, the fading rays of the sun caught in her hair. The light reflects off the water and shines bright, gently lapping the rocks , and we are surrounded by green fields on all sides. There stands a tree to the side,its branches hanging over the water, its base surrounded by small yellow flowers, and I knew this was a little piece of heaven.

She was still the most beautiful thing there

It is the 14th of March,2011,and I am in love.
As she took in the landscape, I hold her from behind, my arms around her slender waist, and kiss her neck .She places her hand against my cheek before playfully slapping me away. She turns and put her arms around my neck and asks me if I love her. I kissed her nose and tell her that i do, and always will. She pushed me away in mock anger and called me a liar. I smile and shake my head, as she laughs and runs to the bike. It’s a beautiful day.

He slows down, his journey has come to a close.He cuts the engine,and the sudden silence envelops him. He is surrounded by fog,as he tramples through the wild underbrush.He walks to the edge of the water and gazes for a while, his head slightly cocked to the side. The fog hangs over the water, like a haunting presence. It was still dark here.There was a sense of foreboding around this place now.

He walked towards the tree. The flowers are gone now, dead. He stands a few feet away,and pulls the jacket closer around him.He stares at the tree.He is lighting a smoke now,and the ember illuminates his face with a deep orange glow each time he takes a drag. He never looks away.

The sun breaks over the horizon,and slowly the light falls strong, driving the Shadow away. The tree is bathed in the light,and the lake is no longer dark.

He puts out the cigarette,and walks away with his hands in his pockets,only to come again the next day,like so many days past.

The birds are chirping as he reaches his bike.The sun shines bright,and there are green pastures all around him

It's a beautiful day.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Chapter II

The first rays of the morning sun shone playfully through the curtain. A light breeze fluttered the windows, as the rain fell lightly on the ground outside. She shivered against him,as her arm drew tighter around,rubbing against his beard.He smiled down at her,and kissed her forehead lightly.

He whispered ,quietly,like the rustling of leaves as they sway to the slow music of the breeze. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled back. As she blinked at the light,she opened her mouth to say-

His eyes flew open. His hands searched for her, empty hopes,fed by memories that were fading into oblivion. Memories that were being buried.

He sat upright on the bed,and shrugged off the blanket. He winced as he stretched, the bruises of last night making themselves apparent now,begging for attention and care.

No time.

He opened his bag and pulled out a switchblade.He had cleaned it last night when he got back-

-his face and clothes were splattered, his hands and the blade covered in it,still dripping to the grass-

-and now he examined it with a clinical eye. It opened with a satisfying click. The blade was serrated and long,the base strong enough to not break if it strikes bone.

The door bell broke his reverie.

He was alert now,quiet.

It rang again.

He walked stealthily towards the door,and his fist tightened around the dagger,blade pointing to the ground.He paused near the door,not wanting to give away anything to the person behind it.

A fist pounded on the door,and he jerked away a little,his senses heightened.

He stepped to the door and glanced through the keyhole,and was met by darkness.

A shiver went through him,as prepared himself.He was weak now,but would not go down easy.His fist tightened.He took a deep breath...

He jerked the door open,grabbed the man by the neck and kept the blade under his eye.

The man smiled at him,his eyes covered by knock off Aviators,and his black kurta slightly billowing around him.He was well built,lean and sinewy,and had the look of a man who had survived the streets.

And he had.

This was Baba.

Baba was a small time druglord. He had an entire slum under his thumb,a big deal for a man so young.He controlled the drugs that rose from the sewage of the city and dealt them around,and played around with other such activities of the illegal nature.Despite the sinister profile,he was a man of honor,and a friend who could help in dire times.

These were dire times.

He slowly took his hands away from Babas neck,and without another word retreated into the house.He came back shortly with an envelope and gave it to Baba.Without a second glance,the envelope disappeared and the slumlord turned away.

"Wait", he called after Baba

The man in black paused at the stairs.

He spoke softly,"The next name...When?"

Baba lowered his head a little,he seemed to consider for a moment, wondering for the third time if he would be sending the man to his death.When he finally spoke,there was regret in his voice.