We found her drenched in the street,
trying to hide her face,
blue in places,
red in others,
puffy eyes, puffy lips,
wincing when her daughter
hugged her,
crying when we helped her
out of wet clothes
to reveal the blacks and blues.
Denied sanctuary by her parents,
she sought refuge in her progeny,
only to return the next day
to the monster
who would never learn.
Spent the night
wrapped in his arms,
his scent enveloping my senses.
believing in true love,
that moulds his soul into my tiny being.
Cocooned, I willed myself immortality.
Come morning,
his arms will leave me
and the sunlight will break the spell.
Dry will I
and leave this world to become a cloud.
But I will rain down upon him,
only to stay the night in his arms again
and again
till eternity…
Some of you might have heard of my post about the rebellion amongst the minions in my castle. Bees, wasps and spiders had taken over the place as a revenge for Eid-cleaning. We had been hiding out in the tunnel that Matthew, the rat, had built last year. In return, we had to promise to never use the not-so-poisonous rat poison that his kids were addicted to. He said it was disgraceful in extreme to find his kids rolling around the drains, and the new rats–that were moving in to try the ‘stuff’–were bad influence!
Well! So, we hid there for around a fortnight, until we were able to sign a peace treaty with the rebels. It includes the No Wall Cleaning, No Honey Usage and No Destruction of Web/Nest/Hive clauses.
.
I can finally truly empathize with Ron Weasley from the Harry Potter book. The way he confessed his fear for spiders. Remember the scene of Aragog’s lair? Spiders roughly the size of a car covering every inch of the space and crowding around the heroes clicking their pincers. It is my recurring dream now.
My three-year old daughter decided to commemorate the occasion(?) of treaty with the following painting.
You can see three humans–Me in the front, baby in the middle and W covering our backs– as we run away from the spiders that surround us.
And we end up running right into them, like a zombie horror show, alien attack or End-of-World movie. The pictures came too close for comfort!
If you find too many legs on each spider in the picture, I must remind you, my daughter is a pro, and takes creative liberty in her pieces. Moreover, it is the thought that counts. Eeeek!
Three thousand years is a long time to be stuck inside a box, however pretty and expensive. Stuck between this world and the next, it gets rather dark and boring in here. Add these bandages and the temperature in here could become a killer, if I wasn’t already dead. What’s the point of the perfect preservation of body, when I can’t even look in a mirror.
So I had to crack open the Shell, quite like a chick out of an egg, and take a walk outside. If you meet me on the way, please ignore the bandages–they weren’t my idea of fun. I was just lying there, waiting to be buried, but these guys decided that I deserved an eternity…of loneliness.
I wish I wasn’t a king.
She had been out with more than a hundred, but nobody quite measured up, or may be she didn’t. Every time, she was left behind to wait for her happily ever after. But did such a person even exist?
They would take her out and within minutes decide that she wasn’t worth it. Her tiny waist, that looked so appealing to herself, made them uncomfortable, it seemed to remind them of what they could never be.
So while her size 6-8 cousins took vows in the churches, the tiny sequined dress stayed put with the lifeless mannequin. So much for perfection!
The story is now part of a short-story collection available in black-white and coloured print and as an ebook. I will share the links soon.
I’d like to present a guest post by Ngozi Awa. She is fellow blogger and friend who shares heartfelt pieces of her life and other stories on her blog http://doshelles.com.
The Quiet and Reserved Ones
As an undergraduate, I wasn’t the boldest or the most eloquent in class. However, I knew I wanted to make a difference in the quality of studentship in the department. So, there came the decision to run for one of the supporting leadership positions in the department’s students’ association.
When I indicated interest to run for Treasurer of the Department of English and Literary Studies Students’ Association, I was laughed off. My classmates and seniors described me as withdrawn and shy. I was pained at the low levels of confidence I received from my classmates. I thought they could see past my quiet demeanour.
I didn’t let their disapproval stop me from pursuing my goal. I vied for the position, wrote and delivered a manifesto that sent the crowd to their feet with rounds of applause. I won the position.
It is okay to be reserved, quiet, or even withdrawn but you have to step out of your comfort zone once in a while.
Like Master Shifu of The Kung-fu Panda series says “If you do only what you can do, you will never be more than you are now.”
You can read more of her beautiful stories at http://doshelles.com/.
I was early today. My regular haunt, a local cafe’, had provided me with numerous conversations with different women in the past. Nearly each one led to fun-filled first dates and steamy nights. I never asked for a second date–do that and women begin planning the names of the babies.
I found her looking out of the window. A pretty face with a body to match. Her shoulder weren’t pulled back in haughty confidence. Approachable. Easy target. Perfect.
I approached her table and cleared my throat to get her attention but she was lost outside. Something about her ways felt serene–no fidgeting, no leg tapping.
I tapped on the table. That got her attention. But when I asked for permission to sit with her, she just shrugged in the universal sign of ‘suit yourself’ and returned to look out of the window.
To say I was surprised was an understatement. I’m what people call as tall, dark and handsome, so I’m not used to being ignored by women. I sat down and looked out to understand what held her attention–a conversation between a child and a man, probably his father. The child was using signs and the man was having difficulty in understanding.
The way her lips were turned up at the sight, she seemed to find it all amusing–not in the sneering, jeering, judgemental way, but the way you’d witness a bird’s baby learning to fly.
I coughed to get her attention. Nothing.
Trying another tactic, I sent myself a message. My message ringtone is a custom-made guitar tone and always gets women’s attention. Not this time though.
The waiter came with her order and glared at me with a ‘do not mess with her’ look. I was surprised! He had been quite cordial for so many months. Was she his girl?
He placed her order on the table. She looked up and, with a large friendly smile, she thanked him…in signs. He smiled back with a no-problem gesture and left the table, giving me a last glare.
I got up to get my order from the counter, and sat back down on the farthest table, awaiting another prey…
Photo by Ammpryt ART
The story is now part of a short-story collection available in black-white and coloured prints and as an ebook. I will share the links soon.
Author’s note: Indian mythology talks about Asura Raktbija whose blood worked as seeds. Any drop of his blood that touched the ground grew as a new Raktbija, making him immortal. Goddess Kali fought against him by beheading him and collecting his blood in a bowl, and drinking it to the last drop ensuring not a single drop of blood touched the ground. Somehow, the story always intrigued me. Here is my take on it.
This story is an ode to the scientific knowledge that existed in Ancient India. According to the researchers, a detailed classification of all living beings, including microbes existed. Various diseases were treated through herbal medication and if needed, operated on. There is proof of cosmetic and brain surgery at Nalanda University that existed 3000 years back. Charaka Sanhita, the medical treatise written by Maharishi Charaka, provides detailed treatment for numerous diseases that researchers are still working on decoding.
I stopped only to change horses, riding day and night for 30 Prahar (42 hours) all the way to the capital. It was crucial to deliver the message urgently to the King. So, I was ushered in his private quarters where Queen Kali was busy with the young princes.
“Har Har Mahadev!“
“Messenger! You look pale and exhausted from the journey. Take a seat before you fall.”
“I bring grave tidings, my lord. You might fell my head once you hear the news!”
“Do not be afraid! Tell me what you need to.”
“My lord, the entire Shakti unit is now possessed by the blood demon.”
King Mahadev’s face fell, “Two hundred of my finest men! All under the enemy’s command! Are you sure?”
I knew he would question my news. All for a a good reason too. The unit had fought against the world’s greatest fighters and never broke a sweat. “I am afraid so. I went close to their camp but did not enter. I could see all of them had discarded their uniforms and armour, and piled them under a tree. I saw blood dripping from their bodies and was worried that they were hurt but I could see no open wounds. It could be easily be the blood of the villagers who lived closeby. Their eyes were blood shot and nobody talked but grunted. There was an eerie silence that belied any possibility of them being humans. Hence, as a single man, I was wary to approach them.
I saw a lot of unfamiliar faces in the camp too. They weren’t fighters but coated with blood too. I scoured the general area and found no dead bodies or any sign of struggle. So, I don’t think our men are taken captive. The only other explanation is that they are possessed and hence, under the control of the demons.”
All of a sudden, I felt too exhausted to stand upright. Taking the seat I was offered earlier, I put my hands in my face. My brother was in that unit. I was at first name basis with every single person in that 200-strong team. That’s why, when the unit was sent to crush the demon attack in the village and they did not report back, I was chosen to bring their tidings. I could account for each one of them…I found each one of them possessed.
“How do you know they are possessed?” Queen Kali enquired. Her voice held a note of disbelief. If only she had seen the grisly sight herself. Seeing blood dripping from my brother face…Women! Unaware of my contempt, she continued, “My lord, if you do not mind, I would like to hear the whole account. It might bring the bigger picture to perspective.”
At her request, he King began recounting the tale. “One of our town offices received a missing person’s report about a group of 11. A family of 2 adults and 3 children was being too reclusive. When neighbours got too concerned, they broke down the door and found all of them hiding in a storeroom. They seemed possessed.”
“What do you mean by possessed?”
“Blood dripped from their bodies. They wouldn’t speak, only grunt. When they were told that they must be taken to Ashram for exorcism, they resisted vehemently and had to be forced into submission. So, a group of 6 strong men bound them and loaded them in bullock carts and started their journey to the closest Ashram. But the party never reached the place nor did they return. A search party of 10 soldiers was sent. They found all the eight adults hiding in the forest dripping blood.”
“And the children?”
“They killed the children, of course. That’s what demons do,” I butted in, angry at her ignorance, but wilted under the cold stare of the queen, “or so the city council assumed when the soldiers didn’t find the children.”
“Isn’t that a lot to assume? Why didn’t they ask them?”
“They wouldn’t speak, only grunt and shake their heads in denial.”
“Don’t you feel this city council’s excuse is a little flimsy. They should have tried to get more information, but I guess, nobody wanted to get close to the possessed.”
Silence
The King continued, “The soldiers forced them to return to town where they were kept under lock and key. The soldiers, however stopped coming to the mess for food after two days of return. They complained of acute body pain. Since they had just dealt with demon, it was expected, so the priest from the local temple tied Raksha Sutra around their wrist. Three days later, they escaped with all the eight people they had brought in. The searchers found blood splattered on their beds and floor but no bodies.”
“What happened next?”
“That’s when the city council requested help and I sent a unit of 200 highly trained soldiers to deal with the demon-menace.”
“When the priest get ‘possessed’?”
“How did you know about him?” I asked, curious, since I never got a chance to relay this news to the King.
“Well, I have a theory,” was all she said.
The Kings face was alight with curiosity and I can’t deny I felt the same. “Two days later he had acute body pain. He wouldn’t speak. And, after three more days, his son woke up at night and found him drenched in blood. He tried to exorcise the demon by cutting open his veins. The priest died in the process. Now the demon possess his son. Some of the villagers I talked to told me they saw him with this demonic army too.”
“Interesting!”
I was incensed. People are dripping blood and this woman finds it interesting, but then, she’s a queen, isn’t she?
The king however still seemed curious, “Can I ask you who I am talking to? The Queen? Or the Raj Vaidya (Royal Doctor)?”
“Both. As a queen, I see that no one gave the chance to the victim to defend themselves, and accepted demonic possession as the only possibility. As the Raj Vaidya, I can see that all the victims had common symptoms: They all fell ill two days after touching another victim, hence touching their blood.” Again, she did not use the word ‘demon’ or ‘possessed’ but ‘victim’, and I could see that the king noted it too. She was, after all, a disciple of Mahrishi Charak, the greatest Physician and researcher in Biology ever born.
“They all lost ability to speak and started dripping blood after five days. It seems like the work of a Sanjata Krmi (infectious microbe) that spreads through blood. It probably breaks the skin cell walls so that it cannot contain blood. They could probably be facing internal bleeding too, but that remains to be seen. It could have infected their throat so that they lose the ability to speak. The pain could be making their eyes go red, or probably they are bleeding too.
We aren’t sure about the death toll since none of them stayed with society, but the disease seems specially fatal for children, since all three of the known cases died.”
“Then, why are they attacking people?”
“And who drew the first blood? Are you telling me that they fight unprovoked? They are saving themselves and their families. They are probably banding together for the fear of persecution. Else, why have they not expanded territory in the past two months?”
Silence
“My queen, as I said, there were no broken skin, no open wounds.”
“How closely did you look?”
Silence
The King sounded perplexed, “I’ve never heard of such a disease before…”
“There are some Sanjata Krmi that are capable of one or more symptoms, and they evolve overtime. So, it could either be an evolved disease, or could have transferred from animals they killed to eat. We can only find out once I can take samples of their blood and study.”
“But my love, if your theory is true, the infection spreads through blood. And if you touch it, you’ll get infected too. I can’t risk your life.”
“If my theory is true, you sent your men to kill people who were already dying. You risked their lives…”
All of a sudden, I had a renewed respect for our queen. If she was right, my brother wasn’t a demon, and there was a possibility of saving him too. “Is there anyway I can help you in this quest, my lady?”
“Prepare to travel again. Take two more soldiers. You will relay my orders to this camp and all the villages and towns around it. Nobody attacks these victims. Nobody goes close to their camp or touches anything they have touched. In case, anyone else comes up with similar symptoms, they shall be isolated along with their families but treated respectfully.”
Addressing the king, she continued, “My lord, I would need your orders to change the local housing plan in the closest city. We need clean empty rooms in one side to provide proper isolation chambers for the victims so that they stop infecting each other. The town council must provide free rations and three sets of clean clothes for each victim. This will to stop the victims from leaving camp and entering villages or forests for supplies. They are to be provided access to clean water in a tank closest to their housing. They shall not touch a well or pond. This will contain the disease from spreading to others and new victims will come forward rather than hide.
Meanwhile, I’ll prepare my team to travel tomorrow and reach there as soon as we could. We will prepare some medications that work on most blood infections. We will, then, take some blood samples, and see what else we can do to help the victims. But the least we can do for them is to give them a respectful life while it lasts.”
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 