Moon Drop - (Chapter 1 & 2: First Cut)
Long Post Below
I. Cold Moon Stew
I looked at my watch. Not that it was important for me to know what the time was but I looked at it anyway, a cursory glance on to the dial. Only the fat hour hand registered in my brain. The time was somewhere between 10 and 11 in the morning. It had been a long time since breakfast and a bit too early for lunch and food was no where in my thoughts, but it always helped me judge if it was morning, noon or night. The pretty face news reader with a voice of a squeaking rat kept on blabbering enthusiastically about the death of a cabaret dancer. It never made any sense to me and I never followed the ‘story’ either, but every news channel seemed to be running the same story. Would they cover my death as a story when I am dead? I was not sure if I wanted to fall asleep, however I closed my eyes….
*******************************************************************
The night sky looked like a canvas of deep violet with the effervescence of the milky white moon’s light scattered by the cotton like clouds that lingered around it like bees around a flower. And I stared into the sky, holding firm on to the wooden fence. My palms were moist with perspiration and the cold dew of the night on the coarse fence by the stream that flowed silently so as not to disturb the beings of the dark. A dark dry leaf with a crooked smile on its face, floated on the wrinkly surface of the shallow stream, across the reflection of the great dollop of light in the sky and into the darkness of the purple night.
I opened the fence and stepped into the icy cold stream, feeling the rounded pebbles with the white of my foot, as I searched for a foothold. The stream seemed to scowl at me as it tried to rush past, tickling my ankles. And I looked at the moon beneath my feet and then gazed endlessly into the night sky, into oblivion, into the ubiquitous moon!
And then in a moment of utter madness, it relented, as it started to melt in the cold night sky. A great big moon drop started to form at the bottom of the disc. It kept growing and growing in size and I could feel the goose bumps forming beneath my shirt. I could feel the sweat beneath my feet under the water. Time seemed to float in the motionless air.
II. Puppets of the breeze
The phone kept ringing for some time and went silent. After a few seconds it started its annoying din and I looked towards it. I didn’t want to answer it; I didn’t like talking to people, especially someone whom I know. If I had a choice I would have avoided all their calls. But this time the rings stated to hurt my ears. I stretched across the couch towards the phone. “Hello…” I blurted into it.
“Hey Markie! How are you?” A husky female voice on the other end enquired. Who could this be? She seemed to know me and yet I couldn’t recognize the voice. I felt like a donkey for not recognizing people but I didn’t want to let her know that I didn’t know her, lest she feels offended, more importantly I didn’t want her to know that I failed to recognize who ever it was.
“Hey hey, I am doing good, great, how bout you?” I replied, sounding as though to share the same enthusiasm she had.
“I am good too dear. So what have you been upto all these days? I haven’t heard anything from you, no calls, no mails, no messages…” she left that sentence hanging there expecting me to interrupt her and tell her what’s been happening with my life.
My mind was in over drive. Now who would be expecting calls, mails and messages from me? And I knew less number of female acquaintances than the fingers on my right hand, which, by the way, is the normal five! Face of all my female acquaintances flashed through my brain none of them owned this voice.
“Markie… you there?”
“Uh oh! Yea! I was just getting on to the balcony for better reception. I can barely hear you” I lied, getting back to my senses.
Why did I lie? Well if I didn’t know who the caller was, it meant that she didn’t know me too well either. And if she was complaining about my incommunicado, then she must be someone who knew me and whom I didn’t care about.
“So what’s the news on your side?” I asked. Damn! What the hell am I doing trying to strike a conversation with someone whom I don’t know? “Well there is news for you. I am leaving Delhi, and coming to Bangalore.”
“That’s great!” I said.
“So how is Meenakshi?” She asked.
Now this is someone I really knew in the past and she knew a lot more than I wished to remember and I felt a little bit uneasy with microscopic drops of perspiration forming on my half naked body.
“She’s doing well, I guess.” Why did I say that? I haven’t talked to her in more than 2 years and I don’t even know if she is in the same city as I am and for that matter she may be in a different continent altogether rearing somebody else’s kids by now.
“Listen, I am getting a call on the other line. I will call you back in a while.” She said.
“No problem. You can call me any time.” I said, quite relieved. But she had managed to unsettle my mind by referring to Meenakshi. I haven’t thought about her in a while; well let’s say a very long time.
We were seeing each other for some time not a very long time but close to four years. Now I must say that I haven’t fallen for anyone in all these years except for her and that is an impeccable, but a sad, track record for any guy I guess. And one fine overcast day, the kind I like, where the sky is a spotless grey without any real threat of a rain and a continuous breeze flowing across your path, when I dreamt, of walking along the pathway along an unknown beach. The surf was lapping up the white sands of the surprisingly clean beach. And I dreamt of us walking along the beach and a strong breeze causes her silky hair to fly across my face. That’s when I realized, when I opened my eyes, there was neither a beach nor Meenakshi on that lovely overcast afternoon. Our breakup was in the simplest of ways. We didn’t talk about it or wished each other any luck. She just decided to leave me and then there was no contact for a long many days. We just stopped meeting or calling each other. Like one day you wake up from your sleep and say, ‘OK I am breaking up with Max’ and so you have a break up there itself, on your bed. No need to let anyone know about it even the person whom you are breaking up with. Since then, she called me once and we met once again.
*******************************************************************
It felt like a thousand needles piercing the skin. But not a muscle flinched though initially it felt a little bit uncomfortable as the water grazed through my skin. But by now I had got seasoned to the cold showers early in the morning. I watched as the stream of water flowed down my body and into the drain, as my mind fought hard to get distracted from the memories of her. I couldn't understand the melancholy of emotions inside me. A part of me was happy that I had been able to convince her while another part longed for her while knowing that she was gone forever, yet another part was angry for my actions while another hoped that we would get back once again, sometime in the future. As I pondered about which part of me should I trust, I thought of the last few moments of my last meeting with her?
We had decided to split, or rather she had decided, and I had convinced for one last time that this was the best thing to happen to us. She embraced me and I responded back as our lips met. The fragrance of her body filed my senses and I could feel the softness of her. I opened my eyes only to see hers closed. She had always been peeved with me for kissing with my eyes open.
While it seemed that she didn't want to end the meeting, I knew that the time had come. I let go of her and those soft lips as she slowly opened her eyes. I could see her moist eyes opening slightly as a drop of tear broke free from the crack of her eyes. I didn't say any goodbyes or wished her any luck, neither did she. I just stepped back and looked at her an expressionless stare and turned around and broke into a brisk walk. I didn't look back. Did she turn back and walk off like me or did she stand there as I melted into the crowd down the street? I wondered but I didn't care at that moment.
*******************************************************************
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, not bothering to dry myself and slouched on to the couch! Who was the caller? I tried thinking of all the people I knew before two years and their friends. But I couldn’t think of anyone whom I could associate the voice with. And the way she said that she would be calling me ‘in a while’ sounded very familiar. Things were getting too foggy in my head and I lit up another cigarette. I looked at the curls of smoke rising up from the embers at the end of the cigarette as they disintegrated in front of me into countless and directionless threads of translucent grey patterns; the translucent grey puppets of the breeze.
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Please do not forget to leave your comments
I. Cold Moon Stew
I looked at my watch. Not that it was important for me to know what the time was but I looked at it anyway, a cursory glance on to the dial. Only the fat hour hand registered in my brain. The time was somewhere between 10 and 11 in the morning. It had been a long time since breakfast and a bit too early for lunch and food was no where in my thoughts, but it always helped me judge if it was morning, noon or night. The pretty face news reader with a voice of a squeaking rat kept on blabbering enthusiastically about the death of a cabaret dancer. It never made any sense to me and I never followed the ‘story’ either, but every news channel seemed to be running the same story. Would they cover my death as a story when I am dead? I was not sure if I wanted to fall asleep, however I closed my eyes….
*******************************************************************
The night sky looked like a canvas of deep violet with the effervescence of the milky white moon’s light scattered by the cotton like clouds that lingered around it like bees around a flower. And I stared into the sky, holding firm on to the wooden fence. My palms were moist with perspiration and the cold dew of the night on the coarse fence by the stream that flowed silently so as not to disturb the beings of the dark. A dark dry leaf with a crooked smile on its face, floated on the wrinkly surface of the shallow stream, across the reflection of the great dollop of light in the sky and into the darkness of the purple night.
I opened the fence and stepped into the icy cold stream, feeling the rounded pebbles with the white of my foot, as I searched for a foothold. The stream seemed to scowl at me as it tried to rush past, tickling my ankles. And I looked at the moon beneath my feet and then gazed endlessly into the night sky, into oblivion, into the ubiquitous moon!
And then in a moment of utter madness, it relented, as it started to melt in the cold night sky. A great big moon drop started to form at the bottom of the disc. It kept growing and growing in size and I could feel the goose bumps forming beneath my shirt. I could feel the sweat beneath my feet under the water. Time seemed to float in the motionless air.
II. Puppets of the breeze
The phone kept ringing for some time and went silent. After a few seconds it started its annoying din and I looked towards it. I didn’t want to answer it; I didn’t like talking to people, especially someone whom I know. If I had a choice I would have avoided all their calls. But this time the rings stated to hurt my ears. I stretched across the couch towards the phone. “Hello…” I blurted into it.
“Hey Markie! How are you?” A husky female voice on the other end enquired. Who could this be? She seemed to know me and yet I couldn’t recognize the voice. I felt like a donkey for not recognizing people but I didn’t want to let her know that I didn’t know her, lest she feels offended, more importantly I didn’t want her to know that I failed to recognize who ever it was.
“Hey hey, I am doing good, great, how bout you?” I replied, sounding as though to share the same enthusiasm she had.
“I am good too dear. So what have you been upto all these days? I haven’t heard anything from you, no calls, no mails, no messages…” she left that sentence hanging there expecting me to interrupt her and tell her what’s been happening with my life.
My mind was in over drive. Now who would be expecting calls, mails and messages from me? And I knew less number of female acquaintances than the fingers on my right hand, which, by the way, is the normal five! Face of all my female acquaintances flashed through my brain none of them owned this voice.
“Markie… you there?”
“Uh oh! Yea! I was just getting on to the balcony for better reception. I can barely hear you” I lied, getting back to my senses.
Why did I lie? Well if I didn’t know who the caller was, it meant that she didn’t know me too well either. And if she was complaining about my incommunicado, then she must be someone who knew me and whom I didn’t care about.
“So what’s the news on your side?” I asked. Damn! What the hell am I doing trying to strike a conversation with someone whom I don’t know? “Well there is news for you. I am leaving Delhi, and coming to Bangalore.”
“That’s great!” I said.
“So how is Meenakshi?” She asked.
Now this is someone I really knew in the past and she knew a lot more than I wished to remember and I felt a little bit uneasy with microscopic drops of perspiration forming on my half naked body.
“She’s doing well, I guess.” Why did I say that? I haven’t talked to her in more than 2 years and I don’t even know if she is in the same city as I am and for that matter she may be in a different continent altogether rearing somebody else’s kids by now.
“Listen, I am getting a call on the other line. I will call you back in a while.” She said.
“No problem. You can call me any time.” I said, quite relieved. But she had managed to unsettle my mind by referring to Meenakshi. I haven’t thought about her in a while; well let’s say a very long time.
We were seeing each other for some time not a very long time but close to four years. Now I must say that I haven’t fallen for anyone in all these years except for her and that is an impeccable, but a sad, track record for any guy I guess. And one fine overcast day, the kind I like, where the sky is a spotless grey without any real threat of a rain and a continuous breeze flowing across your path, when I dreamt, of walking along the pathway along an unknown beach. The surf was lapping up the white sands of the surprisingly clean beach. And I dreamt of us walking along the beach and a strong breeze causes her silky hair to fly across my face. That’s when I realized, when I opened my eyes, there was neither a beach nor Meenakshi on that lovely overcast afternoon. Our breakup was in the simplest of ways. We didn’t talk about it or wished each other any luck. She just decided to leave me and then there was no contact for a long many days. We just stopped meeting or calling each other. Like one day you wake up from your sleep and say, ‘OK I am breaking up with Max’ and so you have a break up there itself, on your bed. No need to let anyone know about it even the person whom you are breaking up with. Since then, she called me once and we met once again.
*******************************************************************
It felt like a thousand needles piercing the skin. But not a muscle flinched though initially it felt a little bit uncomfortable as the water grazed through my skin. But by now I had got seasoned to the cold showers early in the morning. I watched as the stream of water flowed down my body and into the drain, as my mind fought hard to get distracted from the memories of her. I couldn't understand the melancholy of emotions inside me. A part of me was happy that I had been able to convince her while another part longed for her while knowing that she was gone forever, yet another part was angry for my actions while another hoped that we would get back once again, sometime in the future. As I pondered about which part of me should I trust, I thought of the last few moments of my last meeting with her?
We had decided to split, or rather she had decided, and I had convinced for one last time that this was the best thing to happen to us. She embraced me and I responded back as our lips met. The fragrance of her body filed my senses and I could feel the softness of her. I opened my eyes only to see hers closed. She had always been peeved with me for kissing with my eyes open.
While it seemed that she didn't want to end the meeting, I knew that the time had come. I let go of her and those soft lips as she slowly opened her eyes. I could see her moist eyes opening slightly as a drop of tear broke free from the crack of her eyes. I didn't say any goodbyes or wished her any luck, neither did she. I just stepped back and looked at her an expressionless stare and turned around and broke into a brisk walk. I didn't look back. Did she turn back and walk off like me or did she stand there as I melted into the crowd down the street? I wondered but I didn't care at that moment.
*******************************************************************
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, not bothering to dry myself and slouched on to the couch! Who was the caller? I tried thinking of all the people I knew before two years and their friends. But I couldn’t think of anyone whom I could associate the voice with. And the way she said that she would be calling me ‘in a while’ sounded very familiar. Things were getting too foggy in my head and I lit up another cigarette. I looked at the curls of smoke rising up from the embers at the end of the cigarette as they disintegrated in front of me into countless and directionless threads of translucent grey patterns; the translucent grey puppets of the breeze.
This post is not available on Oh God! Where Art Thou!
Please do not forget to leave your comments
Posts
phew..! What a big post..
@Joel: Thanks for the comment ;) should have read the word of caution at the biginning! :) Someday I intend to complete this story and prolly have abridged version for the blogs too :P... Kiddin! :)