Imaginary enemy

I have an imaginary enemy

Everything about her I envy

Her hair long and wavy

Her frame slim and curvy

Her pretty dress and jewels dainty

Her choices are under constant scrutiny

Her achievements induce jealousy

Her having an opinion makes me angry

Length of her skirt raises cries for modesty

Her rejection incites fury

She’s always clamouring for equality

For equal opportunities and to be paid equally

To not imprison her in an outdated reality

To not transgress on her bodily autonomy

To not suppress her sexuality

I preach sermons telling her to be a proper lady

But what right do I have to assume moral superiority?

Who am I to pass judgement on her purity?

Why do I have to restrict her to overcome my insecurity?

Why can’t we both be free and live in harmony?

I have an imaginary enemy

She’s winning over me slowly

Helping me overcome my toxic masculinity

Fighting my demons and still loving me unreservedly

She’s given me a glimpse of divinity.

Oblation

I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes. I kept hearing something trickling down on the floor. Drop…. Drop… Drop… I looked around the room. There couldn’t be a leak on the roof. It hadn’t rained for months. Maybe the drinking water jar was leaking. I searched all around it for cracks. There were none. I lay back down on my bed.

Drop…. Drop… Drop… I listened. Drop…. Drop… Drop…  My breaths slowed down. I tried to focus as I listened. But I was growing tired with each drop. Each drop made my eyes feel heavier. Slowly my mind blocked out the real world and I slipped into a dream.

*****

I don’t remember if I was awake the whole time, but when I became aware of the surroundings I saw that I was naked except for a white loincloth and a woman whom I’d never seen before was applying some scented oil on my body. I tried to ask her where I was but the sounds that came out of my mouth made no sense. I was conscious but I had no control over my body. All I could do was look at her and hope that she could read my mind. She sensed the paranoia starting in me. She went away for a minute and returned with a cup. ‘Drink’. She brought it to my mouth and slowly emptied the dark liquid into me. It filled my insides with burning fire. It consumed my body. All duality faded away. The body perished freeing the mind. I saw myself lying on the floor. I saw it separate from myself… as I saw everything else. I saw the woman inking the body… marking various symbols… on the chest, on the shoulders, on the face. When she finished she bowed her head and left. Two masked men came in. They lifted the body upright, each man on either side, and they carried it outside. I followed. The door opened and a hundred masked men and women came into view. They parted to allow the two men to carry it forward. I thought I saw some of my friends in the crowd. All I could recognize were their eyes. Even in their eyes there was something unfamiliar… I couldn’t figure it out. The men carried it up some rocks and laid it down on a huge square slab. I heard the beats of a drum… in a slow and measured rhythm. A hooded figure approached… the only person not wearing a mask. But I couldn’t see his whole face. He stood over it chanting hymns looking up at the sky. The tempo of the drum beats increased. The chants became louder… almost breaching the barrier… turning into screams. He removed the hood and looked down. I saw his eyes and in them I saw… I saw reverence. All in the crowd looked at it with a reverence reserved only for the Gods. The man took out a silver dagger and the crowd marveled at its beauty. He kneeled and held the dagger above its heart. The drum beats reached a crescendo and the man plunged the dagger in.

Blood poured out and flowed over the edge of the slab and trickled down. Drop…. Drop… Drop… it painted the earth red. As the blood left the body the crowd faded away. Drop…. Drop… Drop… the corpse disappeared… the red earth receded from view… a blackness engulfed everything... the sound of the dripping blood also died down… and finally… stillness… in the realm of a timeless existence.

Home

I noticed a peculiar thing at my workstation yesterday. My keyboard has 105 keys. I’ve never used some of them… because I don’t know what they’re for. A sudden sense of déjà vu overwhelmed me. It seemed as though, in the blink of an eye I had teleported to some other place. I was sitting on a cream coloured Nilkamal chair whose smooth surface had been scratched into a hideous texture. There was a 26” Onida CRT television in front of me on whose screen was a short, pudgy, mustachioed Italian plumber trying to save Princess Peach. I was trying to figure out the brand new joystick in my hand. Okay. I got this. This button makes Mario jump. This one to make him move… and all this while my whiny little baby brother cradled in amma’s arms, screaming in his high pitched baby voice, ‘Lemme play… lemme play’. Realization hit me like a ton of bricks. This was the place I’d learned to call home… some fifteen years ago.

After five minutes or so I had to yield when amma spoke in the I-will-tell-Dad-if-you-don’t-move voice. Oh… how I hated my brother for all the baby-privileges he got. And so he played and played and played till he felt drowsy and I sulked in one corner cursing God, ‘I didn’t know it was going to be this way! Take him back!’, because they had told me it was God who gave him to amma. I just assumed God could as easily take him back. Later at night amma would call me aside in the kitchen and give me a few extra pieces of mussel fry and say, ‘Only for you. Don’t tell anyone.’, and just like that I would forget that I was sulking.

Slowly, my brother started growing up and I started hating him less… because his baby-privileges were downgraded to he-is-the-younger-one privileges. Subsequently he started hating me… because at some point his privileges were withdrawn and I started getting certain privileges. When my brother sulked, the only explanation he got was ‘because your brother is elder than you’. That is when I started to like growing up. I wanted to be an adult now. I wanted the adult-privileges. I wanted to stay out till late evening. I wanted to take a bath when I wanted to and not when amma told me to. I wanted to learn to ride my father’s Bajaj Chetak. I wanted the channel not to be changed every time two sets of lips came close to each other on TV. I wanted to know what happened during those times in the movie Titanic when amma had changed the channel. I wanted to grow up as fast as possible.

Now I know all of it was a trap. Growing up is a trap. They told me about the privileges. They didn’t mention the responsibilities. They didn’t tell me how much of a burden it is to live with the knowledge that you are responsible for certain things. They didn’t tell me that all I really needed to know about Titanic was that all of them had died in the end.

I read something yesterday, which affected me greatly. “Resign yourself to the lifelong sadness that comes from never being satisfied.” All I want now is to go back to that Bajaj Chetak, that Nilkamal chair, that Onida TV, that Super Mario game and my whiny little brother. I want to go home.

A.D.D

Sometimes I wish… if I could just pluck my head off my body and shake out all the filth and then plug it back on my neck. Memory is a tricky contraption… complicated and often times unsafe. If only there was a ‘clear history’ option. It feels like I’m in a never ending game of Pac-man forever chased by thoughts I want to be rid of and endlessly eating up new ones in the path, getting fatter by the second.

“Oh! Isn’t that one delicious looking thought… I’m gonna eat it… yum!!! Oh.. Oh.. there’s another one… but I’ve not really swallowed this one…oh.. hmm… Fuck it! I’m eating this one too… (burps) Shit! I’m getting too fat for my skull.”

Sometimes there’s a power outage and I wander in the dark through the maze. I’m in some strange corner when the power’s back and there’s an awkward rendezvous with an ex-thought.

Me: Hey! (Awkward Pause)… Uhh.. Long time no see! How have you been?

She: (Death Stare!)

Me: Uhh.. so.. what’s going on in your life? Anything exciting?

She: (Sarcasm loaded tone) Nothing much you know.. I’m still in that mid-thoughtgasm where you left me an year ago… but I’m allright… How about you?

Me: Uhh… (Awkward pause… build up of sexual tension… breaking point… frantic lovemaking… Full on thoughtgasm! Like multiple!!)

Oh.. and then there are some really bitchy ones.. Nasty thoughts that you know aren’t good for you.. but you’ve been celibate for a while and can’t resist the temptation… and you allow yourself to be seduced by her big thoobs (yeah! I just invested a blend word from thoughts and boobs)… and you sleep with her… and then you feel like shit when you wake up and realize what you’ve done… and you run away shamefaced.

Sometimes you know… influenced by libertarianism and free love and all that shit you know… I’ve been in an thorgy (last one I swear!) or two… okay, maybe more… what!? Don’t give me that look! Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about that shit.. well, anyways… those were some crazy experiences… you don’t know who is going down on you or who’s straddling you… you feel like youre having a vision…  too many are on you at the same time… and then it gets too much for you and you climax and pass out!

Beyond…

Okay you hide then. I’ll count to ten and then come looking. Don’t go too far…

One… Two… Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine………….. Ten! Ready or not here I come.

Palms over face I stood listening. He was near. I could hear him. His breath full of excitement… quiet giggles… twigs breaking under his feet.

I can hear you, you know. You’re making it way too easy. I’ll count to ten once more. Find somewhere better to hide. One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine………….. Ten!

Silence……….

I listened… seconds ticking away… no sound of him. I took my palms off and opened my eyes. A maze of giant trees greeted my sight. Trunks so huge it was almost like I was walled inside. I looked up. The dense canopy let through only thin slivers of light… not enough to find him. A hundred trees blocked the path in every direction. I stood there indecisive and still. It’d never been this way before. He was terrible at this game. It hardly took me a minute to find his hiding place. And then he’d ask me to close my eyes and count again. But this time… this time there was no sign of which way he went… no shoe trail… no hushed giggles. It was getting darker by the second now and I couldn’t make up my mind on which way to go looking. If I went the wrong way I risked us both getting lost. I’d stay I decided. I’d stay here for he couldn’t have gone far. I sat down beneath a tree and my mind started counting.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine…………..

And I counted… I counted till the highest number I knew. And then everything went dark.

Somewhere else, in another world, a heart monitor fell flat.

Sunsets and Sketches...

There was something elusive about sunsets which made it impossible for him to recreate it on paper. The girls he’d been with told him maybe he should use colours. He didn’t think so. He had in his drawing book sketches of countless landscapes he’d done in pencil and it never bothered him that he didn’t capture the colours brimming in them. There was a simplicity in his sketches which was profound in its own… but not sunsets. He never could render it’s magnificience faithfully on paper. It was not the lack of colour he felt. A sunset didn’t need many colours. Using colours won’t make it any better, he told himself. It was something else that was missing… and he hadn’t figured it out yet. So everyday he’d stuff his shoulder bag with his tools… pencils, a whole lot of them… 4H, H , HB, 2B, 4B, 5B… an eraser and a few drawing books… and walk along marine drive till his mind’s eye agreed with the vantage point… and then he’d wait… for the sun to start drowning in the horizon. Once it did, he’d take out his books and pencils and lose himself in it… till he looked up and didn’t see the sun anymore.

It was no different today. Once the sun had deserted the horizon, he put his pencils back and picked up his work. He’d chosen to draw in one of his bigger books today. He held it up and looked… just looked… kept looking at it for a long time… his face a mask… betraying no emotion... his frame still… it seemed he wasn’t even breathing. Long after the sky turned black and the stars came out, he put it down and let out a sigh. Today was not the day he got his sunset. Lost in dismay he closed his eyes and consoled himself… One day I’ll get it right… he thought. He opened his eyes and welcomed the sights around him. To either side of him marine drive stretched endlessly in a curve… streetlights alive all along… like someone had put on a golden necklace on the Arabian sea. He took it all in… the vehicles racing by, the high rises, the windows on them, the lights in them, a billion people doing a billion things under the lights… this city never slept.

He gathered up his things and stood up. He tore up his interpretation of the day’s sunset from his book and left it there where he had sat… and started walking. He never kept anything which was less than perfect. The wind would blow it into the sea and it would drown to fathoms below like the sun did a while ago… or a peanut seller would find it and use it to wrap peanuts without even looking at it once… he didn’t put much thought to where it would end up. He had left so many sunset sketches behind he didn’t care anymore. It was an imperfect piece of art and it would find it’s final resting place in some imperfect grave.

**********

He’d walked some thirty feet or so when he remembered he’d left the eraser where he sat. He turned around and retraced his steps… all the while thinking about the next day’s sunset. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a woman sitting where he was a few minutes ago… a girl actually… she had his sketch in his hands and was studying it intently… the scarf around her neck being blown around by the breeze coming in from the sea. He couldn’t see her face from where he was… she was wearing a white sleeveless top and a sky blue skirt… or was it denims… he started walking towards her… it was a skirt infact… sky blue with some silver patterns… he liked it, it was pretty. He approached from behind… she was still studying his sketch. He looked over her shoulder at the sketch he’d discarded… did she see something in it which he didn’t? he searched… but a streetlight behind had cast his shadow onto it and she turned to see this tall, lanky guy hovering over her. She didn’t flinch. He stared unsure… detecting maybe the hint of a smile held back by force on her face.

‘ I forgot my eraser ‘, he broke the silence between them. She searched around her for a few seconds and held it up for him when she found it. He took it from her and put it inside his bag. He looked at her again. She was beautiful… slightly darker shade of brown… bespectacled… yet the eyes beneath speaking volumes… thin, a little too thin perhaps… like himself he thought. A few more moments of silence later he looked away and started to walk. Two small steps later he heard a voice as sweet as honey drift towards him asking ‘ Why do you leave them behind? ‘. Stumped as he was by the question, the revelation within it was not lost on him. ‘ Them? ‘, he asked looking back at her. She didn’t realize her slip and stared at him. ‘ You said them, not it, which if I know my grammar correctly is a plural. ‘, he said. Comprehension dawned on her and she couldn’t hold back a blush. ‘ I, uh.. ’, he saw her struggle with the explanation and thought he should put her out of the misery… he said, ‘ Have you been stalking me stealing my sketches? ‘, a grin evident on his face.

‘ I didn’t steal them. You left them behind. ‘, she had a sheepish look on her face. ‘ So you thought you could take them? ‘, he asked amused by this beautiful girl in front of him. She didn’t speak. ‘ How many do you have? ‘, he continued his interrogation. ‘ Six. ‘, she said after a long pause. He wasn’t expecting that and found himself at a loss for words.

Who is this girl? Why does she keep my sketches? What more does she see in them than I do? How could a discarded piece of an unsuccessful attempt at art be of more importance to a stranger more than the artist? His mind was crowded with questions… but he didn’t voice them. He didn’t want to intimidate her with more questions… and he was a little weary of the answers he might get. So he said, ‘ it’s okay, you can keep them. ‘. The relief that showed on her face at that flowed over to his… but shortly paved way to a new dilemma… What do I say now!

He needn’t have worried for she spoke, ‘ There’s a Mc D over there… are you hungry? ‘

**********

Relapse

Even before my eyes opened to the light of the new day, her fragrance welcomed me to it… then I felt her cheek on my chest… smooth strands of her hair on my shoulder… her body pressing on mine in a warm embrace. Waking up with her in my arms inspired an overwhelming sense of being alive… like escaping from a cold closed cave into a meadow in spring. Lying there, listening to her breathe… so serene… so effortlessly beautiful… time coming to a halt in the stillness between each breath… and then ticking by again with the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Pushing aside hair which fell down on her face I traced a finger from her forehead to behind her ears.

‘You awake?’ , I asked her in a whisper, running my thumbs in a curve from cheek to chin. ‘Hmmm’, she murmered. Slowly she woke up… moving her arms and legs… slowly disentangling them from mine… sitting up… stretching her arms above her head. She opened her eyes to let in the morning light which slipped in through the curtains as she stretched… and then she looked back at me over her shoulder.

My eyes met her’s and I saw a thousand emotions playing out in them… competing among themselves for the right to be in them. I wish I knew what they were. I searched desperately for the ones I was expecting… conviction… a faith bereft of any doubt… decision... but my eyes were greeted by waves of apprehension… remnants of last night’s lust, diminished by hesitation. I felt all the hope I’d mustered wither away… cold numbness spreading out from deep within… but I held it in. I wouldn’t let her see the pain. I’d never let anyone see my pain.

I forced a smile on my face to reassure her that everything was going to be alright. I was not sure it would but had to pretend to ease her worries. Sitting up, I reached out and took her face in my palms and kissed her. Her lips were lifeless as they blended with mine... no hint of last night’s passion. She was distant. I felt as if a wall had been built to keep me away… she wanted to be as far away from me as possible.

**********

She remained in bed and watched me as I looked for my clothes on the floor. Nothing was spoken as I put them on and walked out of the motel room. I fished out a smoke from my jeans and walked to the reception for a lighter.

Smoke filled my lungs… the heat from it seeping in… slowly clearing out the numbness that had enveloped me. I walked off aimlessly… thoughts muddled by all possible consequences and the uncertainity of it all.

I took out my phone. The screen flickered to life and showed ‘ 7:00 am, Saturday ‘. I had 12 hours… and a decision I had to make. I could end it today… and not see her again. It was the right thing to do. It was what I should’ve done yesterday… and the morning before that… and the one before that… save myself from a heartbreak every morning since that first morning fifteen days ago… save her from the guilt in being the cause for it… but I hadn’t. A feeling of loss gripped me as it dawned on me that I was going to do it today. All my hope had been burned to ashes. There was nothing to hold onto anymore.

I put out the smoke and walked back to the motel. The girl at the reception stared at me as strode in. I walked past her towards the room. I stopped at the door preparing myself for what I was about to do. A part of me wanted to run away and disappear… and forget everything that had happened… forget her. It would be easier.

Somehow it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. So I opened the door to tell her it was over but found the bed empty. She was gone. Her fragrance hung in the air as I approached the bed where I’d made love to her a few hours ago. It was exactly how it was when I’d left her there and gone out for a smoke… except for a folded piece of paper which now sat in the middle. With a steadily escalating sense of foreboding I picked it up and unfolded. In hurried letters she had written…

“ It was a mistake. It would kill him if my husband found out. I love him. I am sorry. “

**********

I woke up hungry and my head hurt. I had fallen asleep with her letter in my hands. I put on my jacket, took the keys and walked out. The girl at the reception was staring at me again. I had overstayed and she hadn’t woken me up. I thanked her and went to where I’d parked my car. I checked my phone as I got in… ‘ 6:30 pm, Saturday ‘ it showed. Without thinking I drove to the diner a couple of streets down the road. I sat down at the far corner and ordered ribs and a beer.

There weren’t many people around. This was where I ate most nights. It was quiet here. It was here, on a quiet evening like this that I’d met her first. It was 7 in the evening… I still remember, quite vividly, her walking in through the door… in a red dress. She looked unsure… as if she’d come to the wrong place. She stood deciding for a moment and then walked to the bar counter. I was watching her from the same corner where I sat now. I waited. A couple of other guys were also watching her. She had ordered a beer and sat at the counter drinking it. I waited more. She had almost finished the beer and still none of the men had approached. I stood up and walked towards her not sure what I was going to say to her.

I sat down beside her at the counter and asked, ‘ Can I buy you another one? ‘. She’d smiled. We both sat there drinking I don’t know for how long. We didn’t talk much. After the third beer I’d asked her, ‘ Do you wanna get out of here? ‘. She didn’t answer for a while and let the question hang in the air. I felt I should let it go… but out of the corner of my eye I saw her hands fiddling… there was a ring on her finger. I should have got up and left then… but I just sat there and waited. In that moment it seemed inconsequential that she was a married woman. I waited… till she said, ‘ Okay let’s get out of here.’ The ring was not there on her finger when she got into my car a couple of minutes later.

The waitress brought the ribs and beer and broke my reverie. I checked the phone again… ‘ 6:55 pm, Saturday ‘. Only five minutes left, I told myself. The feeling of loss I’d felt in the morning was creeping back in. Do not think about her! I was sweating. I took a swig of beer and closed my eyes. Do not think about her!  When I opened them again everything was a blur. ‘ No. No. Not tonight. Not again. She will never be yours. ‘, I muttered in between labored breaths. I tried to concentrate rubbing my eyes and opening them again. Don’t do this. You can’t live like this. You’ve got to move on! The ribs and beer in front of me, the table… all were slipping away… into a black void. It seemed like I was falling into it. I stopped breathing. She will always go back to her husband… no matter how many times you relive the day. She loves him. I saw hazy shadows floating by as my mind tried to catch up with the backward flow of time. The last rays of light left my eyes and darkness devoured me.

**********

She will always go back to her husband… no matter how many times you relive the day. She loves him. The words were ringing in my head when I opened my eyes again. Slowly, the table in front of me came into view. The ribs were gone but an almost empty beer bottle was there. I fished out my phone from my jacket and checked… ‘ 7:00 pm, Friday ‘. I looked up from my phone towards the bar counter… and my eyes caught red.

**********