Eye Candy

Eye Candy……

‘Two tickets for CP,’ she asked the man at the counter as Arnie searched his wallet for a coin.

‘Argh….I reckon I don’t have a loose coin. I only have a hundred rupee note,’ Arnie looked apologetic as his eyes met the girls. She had shining bright eyes, soft tender lips, thick black hair and a smooth white skin.

‘It’s much important than a coin. I’m sure you are okay with it,’ the girl said as she handed over the ticket to Arnie.

‘Thanks! I promise I’ll give you the money tomorrow,’ Arnie insisted. His hands were damp from nervous sweat.

‘Never mind, you can buy a ticket for me.’ The girl replied. 

It was not the first time that Arnie had looked into the girl’s eyes. He watched her taking the same bus to work as his. Both of them alighted on the same spot and walked to the different directions for work.

‘Hello! I’m Arnie and I work with a buying house as an executive,’ Arnie introduced himself as they hang on to their seats in an A.C. bus.

‘That’s great!’

‘What about you?’

‘Oops! I’m Shiana. I work as a software programmer with an MNC,’ she replied as she pointed towards the badge on her blazer.

‘I had seen it. But I can’t start the converse without a reason. Nice meeting you,’

‘Same here,’ she said.

‘I must admit that I had noticed you taking the same bus for work,’

‘I know that you watched me secretly,’

‘Believe me, I’m not a stalker,’

‘You don’t need to convince me that. I would not have taken a ticket for a stalker,’ she smiled as Arnie returned the favors.

‘Where do you stay? I mean we board this bus from the same area,’ Arnie asked Shiana.

‘I stay at an apartment of B block, Fountain lane with my family,’ she replied.

‘Oh! That’s three kilometers from where I get down. You will have to travel alone after it,’

‘I don’t understand. Why I’ll be alone?’ Shiana speculated.

‘Aren’t we meeting in the evening to take the same bus? I have seen you in the evening too, at 6:30. But you have been sleeping, heads down for the whole time,’

‘Now I have to say that I took a ticket for the stalker. That’s some kind of notice,’

‘The ticket for a harmless stalker!’ Arnie said as he smiled.

‘It's correct. Eight hours of constant peeping into computer screen can take a lot of fluids from eyes. Let’s get down,’ shiana replied as their bus reached CP.

‘Can I expect to see you in the evening, catching the same bus?’

‘I can’t promise. Maybe you should take it easy. ’ Shiana replied.

‘ummm….okay….no issues,’ Arnie stood there and smiled at her. She smiled back. It’s so cute when a girl smiles back. After all, they were in the early twenties. He did not follow her. He was no stalker.

                                                                    --------------

Delhi with its amazing green cover and huge population also has a dark side. Dilliwaala’s are known for their friendliness, food, and fashion. But what makes Dilli unique is its ‘Men.’ It can be called as a male city and the men here are hard to educate. They look at women; evaluate their bodies and move on to the next. As night falls, they rise and make Delhi unsafe and risky.

‘It’s getting dark. Don’t walk alone. Let me walk you,’ Arnie insisted as their bus breaks down three km before Shiana's home. It has been a month now that they had been travelling together, in the morning and in the evening too.

‘Don’t worry. I can manage. I don’t want to bother you,’ Shiana blushed as she said. She did not expect this offering from Arnie. Their mutual affection, though little, was only confined to the boundaries of an A.C. bus.

‘Do you really think that walking next to you will bother me?’ Arnie said as he gazed into her shining bright eyes. She paused for a moment and then nodded.

‘Okay, let’s walk then,’ she said as her high heels tapped the cement road.

She had the most amazing eyes and her head turned back few times as they walked in the star-filled sky. The moon shined brightly. The moon is like a friend. A lot of happy things happen when the moon shines. Arnie caught a glimpse of Shiana's astonishing beauty in its light.  She walked like a cool breeze which is free and refreshing. In between, she looked at his brown eyes which were quiet. The quiet eyes often draw a lot of concern. Eyes say what words can’t. He expected her to say something. But she holds back. He knew she won’t and neither he.

‘Thanks, Arnie! I’ll go from here,’ she said as they reached the main gate of Fountain lane.

‘Oh! ‘ Arnie did not seem happy that they reached so soon.

‘To be honest Arnie, I’d expected that you would ask me to walk down till here. You’re special for me.’ Shiana said as she waved at him.

Arnie waved back to her raising his right hand. He will never be able to tell her. She would refuse to believe him. They had something more than chemistry, more than passion and friendship, he felt. He could never explain it. It was not love, he believed. But did she? She was something purely pleasing, pleasing to the senses like an ‘Eye Candy’, he thought as Shiana looked back at him and smiled. Arnie smiled back. It's so cute when a girl smiles and a boy smiles back. It doesn't matter if they are not in love. 

Oh, Mother! Come back from Moon!

Mark Sebastian lifted himself from the dining and slapped little Arnie, his seven-year-old son. It was a cold Sunday evening of December. 

‘Disappear from my life and don’t come back,’ Mark held little Arnie by the arm and pushed him away from the main door, and out of their one-room flat. Little Arnie, a fair-skinned young boy with rosy cheeks, could not believe it. Arnie was small but he would grow. His father had been a caring father since his mother left and Sebastian hardly put down a hand on him. 

‘Please Daddy, where would I go?’ Little Arnie pleaded with tears in his dark black eyes.

‘Do you want some more? Wasn’t one enough for you? I don’t care where you go. It doesn’t matter to me. I have enough issues to deal with,’ flashing his big red eyes, 

‘Do you want some more? I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me,’ Sebastian warned Little Arnie flashing his big red eyes. Sebastian warned little Arnie.

The handsome face of Sebastian, his Daddy, was now pale and wrinkled. Once, a pleasant gentleman, now he hardly smiled. Mark and Aaria married because they fell in love. The trend of ‘love marriage’ started in the nineteen sixties. However, it was still not accepted in the seventies. Sebastian and Aaria had an unhappy marriage, after the birth of Arnie. Sebastian’s wife left him for reasons unknown to their son, little Arnie. He was only four when she left Sebastian. Aaria expected a comfortable life after marriage. She was very much ambitious and enthusiastic to change her lifestyle. However, Sebastian had an easy approach to life and he was happy with his small-time job. Aaria was not happy with stagnancy in her life and soon financial disputes erupted between her and Sebastian. Despite love marriage, they had very less communication and gradually they grew apart. After Aaria left, Sebastian and Arnie shifted to a cheap one-room rented flat of C3A, Janakpuri. 

‘No, please. Don’t throw me out, Daddy. I will be a good son. I promise. I will eat whatever you make,’ little Arnie promised obedience as he cried. He was a lonely, sensitive and an isolated child who formed images in his ‘mind’s eye.’ He felt helpless without his mother. No doubt, he missed her. 

‘You can’t. How could you be? Even your mother wasn’t. You look like her and talk like her. You have the same black hair and black eyes. She fancied luxury and delicious food.’ Sebastian taunted him. Little Arnie had only asked for a bread roll for lunch instead of a loaf of bread.

Little Arnie had no clear memory of his mother. However, he believed that she existed somewhere. Her face had faded from his memory in all these years. But he was curious about her. How she would have looked now, he thought? Maybe she was like Ritu’s mother or maybe Rahul’s mother. She could be prettier than their neighbor Mrs. Khan. He had no idea. He only imagined her face. It was getting dark as he walked a few steps to the secluded lane of C3A. Not a soul on the street, little Arnie tried to comfort himself on the staircase which was next to his friend Rahul’s house. He sat there and lowered his head between his knees. Arnie, a seven-year-old boy was afraid of the dark. Young boys are afraid of the dark and little Arnie was frightened. He was afraid of the creepy faces he had seen in the horror comics. Did they exist? Would they find him here sitting alone and hungry? He wondered. He thought about his safety. Nobody cared that he only had a loaf of bread in the lunch. Where could he go? He thought. Christmas was around the corner, but there was no Santa to comfort him. He loved his grandparents whom he called Daddu and Daadee lovingly. He had seen Rahul and Ritu calling their grandparents as Daddu and Daadee. Little Arnie’s grandparents did not live with them. They would have never left him alone. He was cold and hungry as clock touched eight. He missed the kindness of a mother. She would not have let him go hungry for hours. 

Little Arnie did not like sweaters and he never had a jacket. He wore a light knitted full sleeve shirt with track pants. Some neighbors passed him on their routine walk, but they didn’t notice him. Nobody was interested in little Arnie. Nobody cared for a seven-year-old boy, whose mother was away and he was now thrown out by his Daddy! 

‘Any trouble Arnie?’ He heard a familiar voice as he lifted his face. It was Mrs. Sharma, mother of Rahul, his best friend. She rolled her fingers into his curly hair. Little Arnie cried and embraced her. She was thin and fair, and her face was bright. She occasionally looked after little Arnie when his Daddy went to work and arrived late at night. Streets are a dangerous place for lonely kids. Kids like him could be kidnapped or taken advantage of. Nobody cares for them these days. However, God comes in all forms! 

‘Daddy asked me to leave the house. He is furious,’ little Arnie said in a low voice.

‘Did you annoy him?’ she asked. ‘No. I asked for a bread roll. I was hungry. I only had a loaf of bread in the lunch,’ 

‘Don’t worry. You can stay here. I’ll be back in a moment.’ She went hurriedly and came back within a minute. Sebastian was not at home. 

‘Your Daddy is not at home. Maybe he will be back in a few minutes. You can come inside.’ Mrs. Sharma invited him and he followed her. She fed him a warm soup and comforted him with kind words like a mother. Without soup and a loaf of bread, he would have fallen sick. 

‘Have no fear Arnie? You are a good boy. Maybe your Daddy was upset for some reason,’ Mrs. Sharma comforted him. Arnie looked at her lovingly. If his mother was here, she would be like Mrs. Sharma, he thought. 

‘Where is my mother, aunty? I know that she lives somewhere. I have seen Daddy discussing her with grandpa.’ little Arnie asked. 

Mrs. Sharma looked at him. She had been kind to him. She did not want to upset the little boy. She cooked up a childlike reason to comfort little Arnie. 

‘Your mother is alive. She is there! She lives there and she watches you from there,’ she pointed towards the moon as she said. 

‘On the moon! Are you sure? Why is she there?’ Little Arnie asked in disbelief. 

‘I don’t know why she is there. It must be urgent that she had to go. But she will come back for you. You need to wait for her, Arnie,’ 

‘Do all mothers go there, to the moon?’

‘Yes, all mothers go to the moon,’ ‘Have you been there?’ ‘Yes. But I am already back,’ Mrs. Sharma said as she smiled. She smiled at his innocent questions. Between all this, she gently touched his rosy cheeks. The night fell and the moon got bigger. Perhaps several mothers went there today, he thought. Little Arnie expected his mother to come back soon. He stared at the moon deeply. 

Mrs. Sharma comforted her kids into the warmth of the bed for a good night’s sleep. Mr. Sharma was out on an official tour. It was tough for Mrs. Sharma. She could not allow little Arnie to roam alone in the dark of night. She stood at the door in silence. She asked him to sleep with her kids. She slept on the sofa. She had a one-room flat, but her heart was much bigger.

Little Arnie had a rough night. He slept with folded hands and prayed to all the Gods. He prayed to Jesus, Baba Nanak and to Krishna. He had been to church a few times with his Daddu and Sebastian. He had seen Mrs. Sharma praying to Baba Nanak and the driver of his school bus prayed to a tiny frame of Krishna which he kept near the steering wheel. He had heard that Santa gives gifts to children on Christmas. However, on this Christmas, he only wanted his mother as a gift from Santa. He had seen pictures of Santa with stars and moon in the background. Little Arnie was sure that Santa could bring her back from the moon. He also prayed to all the gods with a hope that they would take care of his mother who had gone to the moon. ‘What if his Daddy also decides to go to the moon?’ He slept thinking.

‘Oh! Mother, come back from the moon. Please come back Mother. I miss you so much.’ little Arnie repeated in sleep. The next morning he woke up with folded hands. Little Arnie was in the comfort of his home and in the warmth of his bed. He rubbed his eyes to see his Daddy sitting on the couch. Sebastian was reading the newspaper. Little Arnie embraced him tightly using his tiny hands and cried for joy. He would never displease him, he promised to him. He would readily accept whatever would be offered to eat; even if his mother didn’t come back from the moon to look after him. But inside, the hope floated and his heart still yearned, ‘Oh Mother! Come back from Moon!’

Nawab, Begum and the tiger

She wasn't allowed to go out and it had been a while that she visited her parent's house. Her movement was restricted in the palace. She felt confined. The world was spread far and wide, so beautiful and bright in front of her as she viewed it from the window of her bedroom. The wind blew gently and it carried the fragrance of flowers from the nicely laid garden. Nawab Siddiqi, the head of the small princely state in the northern part of India proposed love to Nagma, the daughter of a small peasant. Nawab's had fetish for perfect breast, white skin, and white women. Nagma had free, bouncy and round breast; which exposed in front of Nawab, as she lifted herself up to guide Nawab, who had lost the way to his palace. Nawab smiled at her as the pair flashed before him. They were soft and white. But he did not notice her glossy grey eyes which were round and irresistibly charming. Her parents made a little fortune and this proposal of marriage was the grace of almighty for them. They believed so. After Nikaah, Nagma became Begum Nagma. The palace spread across ten acres of lush green surroundings on the border of Wildlife sanctuary. The palace boasted of a colonial bungalow, billiards room, a large hall, a polo ground and a private garden. She had a dream of the life of a royalty.    

After few years, she still believed in her dream with a swollen eye and a little bruise on her face. 

‘I told you to remain behind the veiled window,' Nawab struck on her face with his princely hand. The hand gave her the diamond-studded ring on their wedding. 

‘I don't like sitting here alone,' she said with tears rolling down her soft cheeks. 

‘Didn't you notice the British officers in the hall? It was a royal event. I wanted them to see the dancers and not my Begum. It should not happen again.' Nawab left the bedroom warning her. 

‘You need not worry now. He is not here. He was always aggressive. Please have some Sharbat,' Salma, the Aaya said as she pushed the tray to her.

‘Give me the towel. I need to clean my face first or he will be furious at night.' 

‘You will get over this. Of course, you will but it will take time,' Aaya said as she cleaned the bruise of hers. Begum shrugged her shoulders. ‘The girl like you can have many admirers. This makes him very possessive of you. You are at a wrong place at a wrong time.' She said as she applied medicine to her swollen eyebrow. 

On few occasions during night, Nawab turned into a passionate lover. It made no difference to her because when he turned into an aggressive lover, the bruises were of a different kind. He kicked her and yanked her up by long hair.

‘Oh! Please leave me alone. Take whatever you want. But please don't hurt me,' she begged to him. He always took what he wanted, forcefully.

The Nawab liked leisure and hunting. He loved shooting tigers. He had an uncanny fascination to put their skin on the palace's walls. He did not mind taking his Begum for these events. It was difficult for others to see his beautiful Begum in Machaan which was surrounded by heavy leaves. She remained hidden.

‘Can I come along for the hunting?' 

‘You sound strange. The scar is still visible on your face. Oh no! What I have done?' Nawab said looking at her. She knew that his emotions were made up.

‘I'm fine. No one will see it,'

‘The weeds have grown and the roads are neglected. Would it be fine for you?'

‘I'll manage.'

Sitting high on the elephant, she enjoyed the green, dense diverse jungle. It was thick, wet due to last night's rain and the sight of the long bamboo stick made it humid. There was a hint of heavy stillness to it. Begum was not afraid of the tigers or the snakes; but was afraid of Nawab. However, the clean oxygen energized her. 

Mahavat helped them to take the comfortable position on the Machaan and the big elephant looked in a hurry. Mahavat and the elephant went quickly to safety as Begum and Nawab were left alone in the wilderness. It was dark. Hunters and tigers love to hunt in the dark. No one was on the move. Nawab sat there with his .275 rifle as its butt rested on his knees.

‘Will you allow me to shoot the tiger?' Begum suggested. 

‘Ah! Shhh…don't make a noise. You know it is not possible. I can feel he is around,' Nawab pleaded her.

‘No, I want to. It won't take long. If I miss, you have another chance,' she persisted.

Nawab gave her a sharp look. But he knew she won't back off on this.

‘Fine, take the gun. Point the nozzle on tiger's belly and shoot. The bullet does the rest and will end his misery,' Nawab explained to Begum as he covered her back with his frontal. 

The tiger was big. She could have shot tiger's head or a leg or may be, Nawab's. But she chose shooting tiger's belly. 

Bang. A loud noise cautioned tiger and he looked at Machaan. The shot missed the tiger. The .275 rifles are different. The force exerted in front cause equal force backward. The rifle butt hit the lean chest of Nawab. He lost the balance and fell down. Tiger did the rest and ended Nawab's misery, or perhaps Begum's.  

Day of the woman

Day of the woman

 Katiana, the big Siberian tigress was struck with a thick bamboo stick on the head and the face of Siberian tigress did not fill with fear but anger. It struck her like an axe, a small axe; otherwise, the injury would have been serious.

"Don't you have any humility?" Sam said to Raul in disgust.

"What?"

‘‘Can't you read the banner there? ‘Don't throw objects on her'. Don't be senseless," Sam showed him the warning board at the zoo.

It was already 5:30 in the evening. There was only one couple who was there other than them and it was busy taking pictures of Katiana. They were furious to see Raul's antics. There was no guard on the gate of her 1000 yard den but at the main entrance which was 500 meters away.

"It is not a fatal blow; there are only a few drops of blood on her head. We are here for little fun, aren't we?"

"Yeah…..I know. You are never through with the fun. This fun of yours took Jasmine's life,"

"Ah! Yes, in school. I remember it. It was way back. But it was not my fault. She fell from the corridor,"

"She fell because you harassed her. You ran after her and teased her. She got scared and lost the balance,"

"Wait! Now you can't blame me for everything,"

"You will never admit it, will you?" Sam shook his head.

"It's ridiculous to blame me."

Five years ago, his proposal of love was rejected by Jasmine. Raul decided to avenge his battered ego. For months, he continued to harass her, demean her in the canteen, in the playfield, in the library, and in the school bus. On a fateful day, he cornered Jasmine in the corridor.

"We need to talk," Raul said as he held her by the arm.

"I don't see any reason to talk," Jasmine replied.

"You can't ignore me. No one says no to me," Raul tried to justify his bruised ego. He was rough and rude to her.

"Listen, Raul, my parents have little money. They sent me here to study and not to fool around with rich boys like you,"

"I don't see money as the reason. I believe you are keen to reject me?"

"Let it be. I mean it. Why you bring yourself each time? It's not about you. I'm not the last girl for you,"

"But I will be the first prince for you,"

"Don't say such things Raul. Please don't put me in trouble,"

"Now you'll see," Raul said as he pushed Jasmine and abused her in a frenzy.

She was dismayed and scared. She turned away to run in a burst of speed, away from Raul. She eventually lost the balance on the corridor and fell. It was a fatal fall. A sound came from her mouth and not a word.  

"Don't throw stones at her Raul? Two bottles of beer have buzzed your mind. She is not there to amuse you," Sam cautioned him.

"Why don't you sit on the rock?" Raul suggested Sam as he pointed to the polished rock in front of him, opposite sixteen feet wall of Katiana's moat.

Raul clicked few pictures. Sam lifted himself from the rock to see the pictures. There was a stream of noise on their back. They turned back to see that Siberian tigress had taken a huge plunge over the moat's wall. A thick bamboo stick thrown by Raul was lying on the moat. It helped her with the jump. The placard attached to the wall, 'Do not worry. 16 feet wall is safe' fell into the moat full of water. Fear stuck their faces. The tigress grunted and with another leap, she landed on Sam's chest. Raul lost his balance and fell down. He grabbed the camera and ran towards the exit gate as Katiana was busy mauling Sam. One hundred twenty pounds giant crushed Sam's lungs as he gasped for breath. It did not matter to her who he was though he did not hurt her. The tigress lifted her tail up and head down to smell him. Sam did not move and stayed still. He lied there motionless in the wilderness as the tigress ran to the direction of Raul.

"Help me! Open the damn door," Raul shouted frantically. Every few seconds he looked back for the tigress.

The last of the visitors had left and the guard at the entrance was away. He could not have known that tigress was now free and as dangerous as her other pals who terror the vast boundaries of jungles.

Raul turned back for another exit as he found himself facing the huge tigress that was at the short distance from him. Animals always find you even if you believe they are not there. It is our scent which acts as sweetness for them. The evening was never so silent for him. He could not believe this happening. There was no such view for him in his life, ever. The big tigress was here, right in front of him. He did not look at her, not at her eyes at least. But you see things even if you are not looking at them. This big was Katiana.

"Shoo….go away," Raul lifted his camera to challenge her with the strap held tightly in his fist.

But she was much superior to the mortal man like him. With one step to the back, she leaned forward to give a huge blow on Raul's neck and slashed it. With one hand on the ground and blood streaming down his belly, he rested on the floor of the exit gate. Neither a sound nor a word came out from his mouth. Katiana sat next to him, like a stalker, with loads of patience, to wait and to watch him. It has been long five years. Now it was Jasmine's turn to have some fun. It was her day, the day of the woman.

British love…..Sepoy Mutiny, Meerut 1857…….

The evening of the warmest month in this northern part of the country was surprisingly cool. The yesterday’s dust storm and a little drizzle on the outskirts of the city had lowered the temperature in the walled city. The old bazaar of Meerut city looked busy as East India Company’s officers were out with their wives and girlfriends to shop for the Sunday morning feast which was at the Church. I’d been here hundred times before to sell little produce from my tiny land. The Saheb’s were the miser but Memsaab’s were always generous. Saheb’s looked very different from us. They were tall and strongly built while their Memsaab’s looked like a winter Jasmine. While our women worked in the fields braving sharp Sun; the Memsaab’s were always neat, organized and the fragrance of their white skin was enough to make us lose our nerves. While other men at bazaar ogled at Memsaab’s small white breast which runs free, I dreamt of what was beneath the pair. I dreamt of their heart. No doubt that Memsaab’s were not very popular among our women.

God was not on the Church’s side on this day and it was bad enough to be a woman at the bazaar on this evening. We’d heard of Sepoy Mutiny in Bengal but never believed that it would cover a hundred miles so soon to reach here. We were numb for few minutes as the huge crowd of around hundred fifty Sepoys struck the bazaar, armed with rifles and swords.

‘Run!’ Chottu said as the peacock feathers from white women’s hat were thrown in the air. It was foolish to come in the way of the triumphant progress of Sepoys. With every man for himself, my eyes met the eyes of a young Memsaab who struggled to lift herself from the dusty ground.

‘Help me!’ she said covering her face and screamed.

Her noble beauty was the invaluable asset as she caught my attention. She had clear white skin, light blue tiny eyes, a seducing mole on the lip and a white bosom. Her rich noble family would have been proud of her. The Sepoys pounced on her like an eagle which grabs its prey.

‘Leave her, please,’ I pleaded to the armed comrades.

‘Back off Naseer. She is ours now,’ the Sepoy with long dark hair said as he pushed me down with a butt of his rifle. He lived in the same village as mine, across my house at the end of the lane.

‘You take my earrings and the necklace. They are expensive,’ she said.

‘We will take them. You need not worry about them. What about you white people taking away our dharma?’ he said as another Sepoy cut her neck a little for the necklace and mocked her.

‘Just watch her neck. She is bleeding from there,’ I said.

‘You are very concerned for her. Why don’t you come here? We will put down a stick down your throat mullah,’ the Sepoy laughed on me.

‘Aah! Bitch,’ the Sepoy screamed as the girl bit his hand.

‘How dare you touch me? Don’t you know who I am?’ she said as she kicked, fought and bitten a Sepoy to escape.

‘A white mischievous girl! We can run you over by these horses, so behave,’

‘Memsaab, grab my khurki…..they will lay the hand on your modesty. But it may help,’ I tried to convince her as it was the matter of heart and her honor.

‘I wish I was not beautiful. They would have spared me then.’ She said as she cried. I was convinced that she had given up.

Without showing any mercy, they took my dream away. They took away many other white men’s dreams this evening. She looked back into my eyes as they carried her on the horse. I hope she noticed shades of love for her in my eyes. The evening summer ended sadly. I searched for her in the vacant plots, fields and on the banks of Yamuna. It ended in disappointment. I cursed myself. I couldn’t save her.

Few months passed as I laid myself on the cot for a little sunshine on the roof of a single-story hut on the cold winter afternoon. The women whispered in the foggy haze as I did not try to pay attention to it. The demonic incidents of mutiny were still fresh in my thoughts as each night I dreamt of love with the young beauty. Deep into my thoughts, I noticed the raging beauty walking towards the hut. As the image got near, the woman looked familiar which got me confused. I wore the skull cap on my head and in curiosity fell down from the roof on the dry paddy leaves.

‘Remember me!’ she said as I tried to lift myself from uneven ground.

‘Yes….I searched for you all over. I was worried for you and even had bad thoughts.’ I said. She looked beautiful, much whiter than earlier, like a stage actress which put the lot of white powder on their face. But she had same light blue eyes.

‘Your bad thoughts were not false. They took me to an open field, behind the rail track wall. They ruined me one by one,’

‘It’s terrible. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do anything for you that evening. I feel so helpless that day. So where have you been all these months? What brought you here?’

‘You said I was in your thoughts. I couldn’t go further. I noticed love in your eyes. I had to come for you,’

‘It’s feel good that you noticed love in my eyes,’

‘Yes….the spark of love brought me here. My terrible dream ended in the field that night,’

I became tongue-tied and felt little awkward.

‘So what do you want me to do? Report to the police,’ I asked her with a gentle hiccup.

‘There is no need to. They can’t do anything now,’ she replied.

‘Do you want me to take you to your family?’

‘They have nothing to do with me now,’

‘What can I do for you?’

‘Walk with me to the vacant field behind the rail track wall. Only you can take me there. I will find peace there, and may be little love. With you, of course,’

‘I’ll take you there,’ I agreed to take her to the open field behind the rail track.

I started to search for my skull cap as it was missing from my head.

‘What are you searching for?’

‘My skull cap. I think it fell from my head as I hit the dry paddy.’ 

I turned to see a familiar face lying on the ground with blood oozing out from its head on the dry paddy. The skull cap was lying next to him. It was Naseer’s. 

November Rain.....Chapter Nine....

"November Rain"

Copyright @ 2014 by Anuj Sabharwal

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author. For permissions, write to author at anujsabharwal3@gmail.com 


Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people is completely coincidental. 

After Rape, Ashley and Sammy get close for first time.....

My rape reminded me of what I lost but it also hinted me what I still have. Not only that I have to deal with the fresh wound but also need to divert my anger to my peace. My ongoing struggle required sincere trust and acceptance. Sammy helped me in dishes and on few occasions, he brought the flowers for no reason. One night the air was cool as Sammy carried the blankets to the bed and I rested my back on the edge of the bed looking strikingly at him. It confused him.

‘What are you thinking Sammy? Is something wrong?’

‘Na…just thinking of checking the mails,’

‘You don’t need to. I don’t know but I feel caged. I miss you. Come here and lie next to me tonight,’ I invited Sammy but I did hope that it do not open whole new can of worms for both of us.  

‘Are you sure about it? Didn’t you promise yourself on this? What do you have in your mind?’

‘These are too many questions! No. It’s not time to read my mind. You can’t go that long.’

I felt that my violation at the hands of stranger was already a great injustice to him. After the rape, sex on this night could become a big source of anxiety for both of us. However, there was no shame in making an effort to it. His eyes widened as he took a watchful single step towards the bed and leaned on to me.

‘You look beautiful. You are not going to change your mind, will you?’ Sammy said as he stroked my hair.

‘I’ll do anything for you. I’m sorry if I hurt you earlier,’ I said softly as I lifted myself to him for a first kiss in many days.

‘So much days had gone by that I feel I had never kissed you,’

I started to remove my sweater but he moved my hands away. Kissing gently on my neck and shoulders, he removed the sweater and then the top. His hands slid up to my face and his fingers rolled around my cheek. He wrapped his arms around my bare shoulders as I nodded to him

November Rain

"November Rain"

Copyright @ 2014 by Anuj Sabharwal

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author. For permissions, write to author at anujsabharwal3@gmail.com 

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people is completely coincidental. 
Chapter Nine.....

Ashley returns home after the Rape Statement......

There was an awkward silence between us as Sammy drove me back. I was relieved that all important statement was over though few eyes at the police station disturbed me. The look on their faces already blamed me for rape. They seem to ask, ‘Did you ask for it? Why did not you fight hard? Was it really rape? Your dress must be kinky.’ Their behavior was difficult to evaluate.

‘Are you also mad at me?’ I asked Sammy as he opened the main door.

‘Why I should be mad at you in the first place?’

‘They seemed to blame me. The eyes say everything. They always blame the victim, don’t they?  

‘No, I don’t blame you. You know me,’

‘Believe me Sammy. I was not careless. I locked the main door. I was not strong enough to fight him and protect myself. I feared for my life, ’

‘It doesn’t change anything now. Does it? Whatever happened has happened. We can’t roll it back and change it. I wish I could though,’

I stared at him as he closed his eyes and breathed heavily.

‘I am in so much hatred. I don’t know what’s going to happen in future. But I won’t let him get away with it,’

‘You need to be strong. We should start our lives with a clear mind,’ I said holding him as my chest touched his. Sammy was not up to his usual manners. Strangely, he did not try to wrap his hands around my waist. Hands in pocket, he stood there motionless. It was awkward for me. His eyes lacked usual gleam. I had a feeling that he needs time to accustom to this bizarre setting in our lives.

‘I will sleep in the guest room, the room where Stella slept when she was here,’ 

‘I will lie down on the couch, in the living room,’ replied Sammy.

But I held his hand as he turned for the living room.

‘Is something wrong Ashley?’

‘Stay with me. You can lie with me, on the bed,’

‘Don’t strain yourself on it. I will be fine on the couch,’

Looking into his eyes, I offered my hand to him.

‘This time I want to listen to my heart,’

‘And what does it says?’

‘It says it always belonged to you,’ I said as I leaned back with pillow supporting my back.