“The Eye”

Warning: Not for the weak-hearted or the unimaginative.

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She was terrified, one could make out. Her shut eyes spoke what she couldn’t ever. They were trembling, they were scared. Crouched she was lying one on the left side of her tiny bed. A second later, she gave a jerk as if her entire body was in a simultaneous convulsion.

The night was the color of deep azure. Pretty some might call it, but not to her. Just an hour back, she had sat under it, aloof; disconnected from the universe. In a land of her own, right in front of them. Them, chattering away their life’s essence; about their partners, their lost lives, their family issues, gossip, political mayhem and that upcoming television series .

She was unperturbed, she was free in her own way. In a way, a mongrel would be! With no objectives to accomplish, no desire to fulfill; executing the mundane regularity necessary for living; sleeping, eating and carnal satisfaction. Except she had no thrill left for the carnal needs. She was like that widow in love whose husband died leaving her child-less. Why was she living then? Well, she was a masochist! Relishing in her pain was her joy; she wanted to reach the peak of pain and orgasm in it! Eventually, submit to it!

The wind was soft, soothing, almost like a serene symphony of Beethoven. Was a tough situation to face. She was fighting it; struggling with the gush of pleasure arising the leftover cells hidden beneath the layers of decaying matter. It was like litter – the fallen upper layer of dead plant and animal remains, underneath which lies life which one sees not but which undeniably exists!

Ah, the pain, it now made her laugh. Often without cognizance, she blurted with hysterical laughs, loud smoldering ones leaving her with tears and the sneers, her favorite mordant spray of dislike leaving the receivers angry and pissed. She had become a sadist, enjoying the multiplied suffering over the hurt she caused to others.

Anger, that had died! He took it away with him. Peace, now left as the ice cover over an arctic lake, serene from the outside, bubbling with life inside. Grief, remorse, sorrow were her active partner; she just had to lay back and enjoy the chimerical orgasms! The world started fearing her, she started despising them.

But she wasn’t dead as yet! She was alive, each cell active, each sense flaming. When? In her dreams, in her sleep. Like she was, right now. She became everything she ever wanted in her sleep.

In her dreams, she was with him! She was

flying, fighting, committing crimes, laughing,..she was alive, in her sleep and she woke up dead again! She was a hermaphrodite struggling to gain respect. She was the beautiful fairy granting wishes. She was the molested young girl. She was a handsome dandy. She was the famous actress. She was a legend. She was a spine-less snitch. She was a frightful spirit. She was a butterfly. She was a slave.

In moonlight’s shadow falling mercilessly on her fragile bareness, the uncouth remnant reveled with pleasure. The loose blue cotton poncho was torn in parts revealing the pale skin of a prematurely senile woman; sore reminder of a pall. The blue of the poncho matched grossly with the color of skin; the swollen arteries and the inflated veins.

While I looked at her, heartbroken at the pitiful structure of her, the man went on mechanically narrating her story. I was entrapped by her mournful semi-existence and his words were preying on deaf ears.

Suddenly, I gained consciousness as if out of an epileptic distortion. Her blood- shot eye stared into my bones, my body went cold; I stood motionless with my inside shrieking. Then I got out of my hypnosis with a sudden jerk. His words still shake the life out of me, the words I could never forget, the words blended with that sight still haunt me leaving me sleepless.

He had said, “…then in a psychological fit, she butchered him and predated over his body, drinking nothing but her tears, for over a year locked inside their one room flat overlooking the sea.”

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Copyright: Arpita Bhagat 2012

TheCoffeeThrust 

”You & I”

 

Strange commotion is what i often hear
As latent us see from far away
Disgruntled you and impatient me
Searing and laughing in bounds
For as swiftly sailing we swim over the sky
Mahogany hues wash beneath serene footsteps
Whilst maple blesses dutiful companionship
As flying we go our fragrance immortalized
Its just you and I
And the world lays moralized…

-TCT

Arpita Bhagat

MY—-

Reality, my illusion
Illusion, my reality
Past, a sordid remnant
Future, a pleasant imagery
Desire, oppressed emotion
Memory, a hazy film

Source: preachit.org

People, a nightmare
Dead, mortal characters
Destiny, an escapist answer
Music, mystic discovery
Mind, sole enemy
Soul, only friend
Lovers, temporal obsession
Love, an eternal dream!

Arpita

2012

A Vagabond’s diary

A vagabond owns no place to call home or a family he can name his own. His life is all about seeking and his joy rests in discovering. Peace for him is in moving and constant change. He cannot afford to fall in love since his passion is euphoric; eternity is a second, a moment’s thrill perhaps. Pleasure of the senses is however his sole respite.
The following piece inspired from his life.

“Pass, dear one, since thy pain is thy sole joy
Restless as thou are, searching for eerie unknown
Mahogany awakes thee whilst cypress blesses thine serene cot
Stretching days amidst lanes of pines
Whilst the penchant birch and oak fill mercurial senses
Though the ever-melting flaming desire ensue life
Ethereal hues of blue instill it dutifully
Since thou can but only relish the magnificence
With every step, molting for a new skin
Alas, the next destination befalls, leaving no repose
Admire, dear one, its flesh and soul
As love’s enigma deserts thine destiny
Seeking thy curse-in-disguise Whilst envious eyes prune thou so

Peace thy curve, restlessness whole Gifting years to wilderness Yet graying all alone
Familial joys thy depravity
Nature being sole enemy and pal
Living to mobility, mobility to live
Monologues thy teacher
and memory, a portrait bestowed forever”!

-Tct poetry
2012

Mini <3 story

1. A thousand birds abound
   but none as pretty as that pair found
   floating all around
   they walked arms firmly bound
   taking adventure drives
   like a merry-go-round
   swooshing galloping pirouetting
   while making mellifluous sound
   sniffing riddles like a hound
   ending up quite astound 

   with no worries in mind
   superheros in their dream’s account
   imaginative skies and oceans so brilliant
   beyond boundaries together they geared
   fluttering through without any fear

   But destiny’s mysteries planned
   And 
   splat! snapped her wings 
   an unfortunate day
   In a babel, jarred he followed
   mid-air they fell in love
   never too late was their fundamental
   arms-in-arms as end neared
   suddenly a savoir appeared
   saved were they and so were true love’s desire
   as in a bed of roses they eventually paired

   She couldn’t take off ever again
   though love’s high was fair enough
   pain was just a sweet memory
   they lived through day’s glory
   expiring was in smiling togetherness

   so goes the story, finished the granny finally
   ‘Are you that bird’? , the little one quizzed
   A silent nod followed as she limped past 
   and the mini eyes smiled ear to ear.

   Arpita Bhagat
   2012

The Secret (Part 1)

‘A tiny little error costs an entire lifetime of pain and guilt irreparable and irrevocable’. Someone had used these same lines ages back. It took Samantha back to that time. Almost instantly she realized it had been almost a decade since. Who knew she was speaking the hardest truth of her life. She could no more focus on the everyday office hour chit-chatter. She knew she won’t be able to for at least the rest of the day.

Samantha was now all of four and thirty with a loving husband and two beautiful children working as the head of department in a famous city college of Sciences. She was living the perfect family life. However, it was time like these that took her to her haunted past and its inferno fell right in front of her eyes leaving her disturbed and shaken for days. Outwardly she was living the life of bliss and was the cynosure of every gathering which was a frequent affair considering her husband’s employment in the armed forces.

Samantha remembered often calling her a solitary reaper referring to the famous poem by William Wordsworth. Disliked by most even her initially, it was not till the beginning of the sophomore year in college that the two remarkably different girls became pals. Partially responsible for this was her arrogant notorious image known throughout the thickness of their lush green campus. But a university tour changed the game altogether at-least for the two of them. Samantha knew not what so attracted her towards this previously almost hated fellow being.

With time they grew closer than any of them had ever been to anyone before. So much so that Samantha took all of her craziness in her strides as and when it came. Perhaps that’s exactly what she liked in her. It took a minutes’ thought for her to realize the somewhat similar pattern followed in her friends circle. For the small span of six months or so, both had the time of their lives. But as is often said all good things come to an end, so did it!

It took a good number of honking to bring her back from the reminiscences while her skin had become like goose flesh as limp as ever. Gaining senses she took control and accelerated the car. But the thought of her old friend was barely forgotten. It was as if she was still sitting across smoking while her tracks caught a latent fire. Samantha almost gave out a laugh. On reaching home, it was the usual affair – cooking and talking to kids and eventually falling asleep.

At first Mark ignored his wife’s somber appearance doubting the monthly discomfort to be the cause. But as days passed, his curiosity turned into a restless query he ached to get answer of. But alas, all his eager persuasions proved too feeble to move his obstinate guileless wife.

3 AM, the following night, Samantha got up with a calculated jerk and slowly ambled towards the balcony as if sleep walking. She had been following the same routine since the last four days now each time waking precisely the same hour as if just pretending to be sleeping all this while. But tonight, everything was about to be changed.

The night was unexpectedly windy for a tropical climate such as is recorded in this part of the world. Surrounded by a deck of papers she was lost reading a bundle of old papers languished under the wheels of time but secured enough to be readable even though faded.

It had been almost ten minutes since he stood behind her silently but rather incredulously looking before him a woman he had been married since fifteen years but unsure if he even ever knew her. Placing his hand on her shoulder, she finally shook as if been caught red-handed at a crime scene by a cop.

For a few minutes, none of them spoke and all one could hear was the sound of winds gushing against the tall glass doors. None of them knew what to say or do. Then something came over Samantha and she fell on the floor wailing helplessly. Mark immediately took her in his arms. Both rested immobile till the gleam of dawn jerked them out of the tumultuous night.

–to be contd.

~~TCT fiction

Love not, dear woman!

Whom not to love and why!! o_O

Don’t love a musician; most he’ll do is take an inspiration

Don’t love a painter; most he can do is make u his muse

Don’t love a writer; since you’ll be a character to play with n he’ll simply move on to the next one

Don’t love an engineer; he may take you for a lifeless machine

Don’t love a teacher, u don’t want lifetime of lessons

Don’t love a businessman; it’ll all be ’bout give n take

Don’t love a lawyer; u can never trust his words

Don’t love a biologist; seriously you won’t appreciate being compared to organisms

Don’t love an ad-man; his eureka moments might be out-of-place

Don’t love a director; execution is his obsession

Don’t love a child-prodigy; he’ll always be looking for a better option

Don’t love a scientist; he may take you as an experiment.

Don’t love woman! Let them love u, fake it and you’ll make it!

– TCT macrobite (humour)

~~~Soul seakth answers over looming darkness~~~

1. Beginneth I not, nor did thee
   Holdeth my arm and shaketh thou not;
   As thou moveth my existence above mortals
   Ignored were my pleas;
   Whilst thy past casted dark shadows
   Bareth I relished thy bed of thorns;Winds called thou and rocketh thy throne
   Begeth thou again did I;
   Knoweth was I, and thou too
   Nay shall not I hide, nor would thou;
   Lost were thee in my divinity
   Revered thy soul, blessed my whole;

   Thou giveth and taketh my burden away
   Whilst grey clouds casteth overhead;
   Symphonies thou played deafened my spirit
   At yonder, her reflections acheth thy servant;
   Losteth my wails as thy silence prevailed
   And chaste emotions bledth beneath devotions;

   Nay sanctity once again deservedth was I?
   Prayers losteth why were mine?
   Whilst thee celebrated behind shadows,
   And soul-less again was I?
   If thine throne ever was mine
   Left tattered why was I?
   And Goddess if was I,
   Why lefteth alone am I?
   Whilst devotees licketh thy feet
   How honored again am I?

   © Arpita Bhagat
   2012

   

   Despair soul seakth answers even as darkness looms over

A-Z Quotes 2011

The year 2011 was special extra-ordinary in ways more than few. Here’s a few quotes/lessons I formed in the process.

Comment for a similar or different opinion

a) if u try to be someone, who’d be u?
b) Being a jerk/***hole is no crime, until it is the one in the mirror!
c) Expectations is the murder of all joy n more importantly, peace.
d) The simplest joys are simply the ‘only ones’
e) Being ugly ain’t the problem, being lame is!
f) Don’t run after solutions, sometimes a ‘problem’ is all that matters
g) If the child in u dies, so do you.
h) Respect is the best gift that one can give.
i)The important thing aint just ‘how’ to be but knowing ‘where’ u want to be.
j) Never compromise on ur dreams
k) Ideas, don’t work on paper
l) Beauty is meaningless, without humility
m) If you think your life is boring, the fact is, you are!
n) Essential to accept misunderstandings, than reject understandings
o) Disappointment from others is better than that from one’s self
p) To much knowledge is a hurdle for imagination
q) The best way to solve a quarrel, is to accept blame, even if u don’t think so
r) Familial love is the only never ending bond
s) True love can only be attained with purity of soul
t) We live, we die but mistake not, death not ends it
u) No one truly experiences freedom, except a true artist.
v) Poison can also be sweet.
w) A man is nothing without a woman, a woman is everything but a woman without a man.
x) I rather be loathed by many, to be loved by few!
y) Misery and desolation gives birth to the worst form of maliciousness.
z) You have to first lose yourself, to actually find your-true-self!

© Arpita Bhagat
© thecoffeethrust

^^^Unrecognized-Episode^^^

There was a chaos hiding in the prevailing peace everywhere. I took it for some time and left it after I got bored in the process witnessing a murder not gruesome but a death is still someone dying. Although didn’t perturb me in any way. I left the cadaver after its paleness stopped appealing to me. Next I entered a room with high ceiling, smooth off-white cream washed walls, deep blue drapery and before I knew it, I was half-lying on an unkempt dusty hazel coloured bed knitting something, perfectly calm with legs folded over my torso.

A few minutes later, two ladies entered the room, shutting the sliding door behind them violently. One appeared somewhat older more mature dressed in a suit having a shade of rusty brick-red and the other of shorter stature with shoulder length cropped hair wearing a linen jacket above a short silk kurta with heavily kohl–lined big but grossly undefined eyes and seemed in a perplexed eagerness for answers.

I knew they are the journalists from an international news network but its name escaped me then. At once, this enthralled me. They came for an affirmation and I proved a disappointment which sent a cold fury down the latter’s spine. The very next moment, out came a mechanical device. Before I even fixed my gaze, it leeched over my balmy palms and chocked my eating canal. My mashed senses felt trembling vibrations; pain and intense energy all in one go. I was somewhat relishing the whole episode in a trancelike state before I heard seemingly coming from miles away, the older woman’s panic stricken urgings for the dainty demon to halt her barbarism, else, she feared, I might die.

If not for me, for her, it broke the dam within seconds, all my strength projected one dimensionally over the tormentor. She stroked right against the pale wall which seemed to sadistically admire the sight.

In no time, a belial arose in me while I hypnotically clogged the last one of her corrupt life breaths while the belle clung to pull off my obstinate justice seeking revengeful levers. As I eventually turned around for an escape, a final look back into the half-shocked fully petrified eyes of the woman silently assured her clandestine commitment towards me.

I narrowly escaped hordes of men dressed in twaid suits briskly walking towards the doom land by pulling inside a tall but tiny bamboo door whose inside barely held space for two persons to stand, peculiar of a watchman’s outside a well kept garden of a four storey bungalow.

Minutes later, I found myself running concocted with panting right outside my alcove. It might have lasted an eternity or maybe just a few moments but my heart pounds affirmed the former preposition more firmly. As it finally ended, my respite knew no boundaries and I peeped out of my hide-out and disappeared like a squirrel does while hopping from one tree to the next. There wasn’t anyone to speak while I felt a desperate need to hear my voice to reassure myself of my own existence.  I gasped, gulped, respired from the bottom of my sole, all this while running, alas to no avail.

I was now a fugitive, I had no family, no friends, no home, no name and as I knew for the time being, no voice. The lanes seemed deceptive, they twirled and lead to boulevards, twisted again to a width that even google would find difficult to locate. The chilly November air chafed my eyes to near blindness and as night approached, I felt more exposed. Impulsively, I bought and dressed in a veil, an eerie composure took me over. I felt as if it will impede me against all inhuman realities and even ghastly nightmares.

Now the only connect the world could establish was through my impassive eyes. I felt safer than ever. Meanwhile the predators went shattering all looking maniacally for their prey. The high counts of their prey number added to my advantage and that squinted pressure fell off the merciless beasts. I wondered how many such as me roamed ironically, feeling safer than ever smiling wittingly mocking grin at the pitiful restlessness of their probable destiny makers.

©Arpita Bhagat

thecoffeethrust