Thursday, June 3, 2010

Purple dreams, Red realities

My blood is red

In the dim haze of the streetlight I checked my syringe. The blue liquid glazed in the yellow glare of distant light. With a hard learned accuracy I stuck it in my veins. I pulled the piston back with a jerk. The red blood slowly diffused as if conquering the blue bliss. And then it turned purple. I pushed it back in one go!

My blood is purple

The comforting numbness took over the control. I lay there reclining by the lamp post, in the darkness of the broken bulb. Slowly it all turned bright with a new aura. Distant voices rose and faded by my side. Words that I could not decipher, meanings I could not understand.

As I lay there in the darkest alley of the posh Park Street of Calcutta, I heard the distant laughter of enjoyment, glamour of riches, whispers of scandals, sighs of lust and occasional squeals of pain and hunger that goes unheard.

In distance I saw him slumped over the sidewalk. The legs floating lifelessly on the overflowing drain of filth and lies.

A closer look at his silhouette revealed that he was a she. Her slender legs and lean arms betraying her feminity. Her hands in a strange melancholy seemed like a call for help.

I pushed pulled and ultimately jerked my left-of-self and staggered towards her.

Around me people lay in their own darkness escaping pain and reality, maybe even waiting on Armageddon.
But she seemed to call me somehow.

I turned her slumped shoulders towards the light. In the yellow glare, her face seemed to lose its colour to desperation. I reached out for her pulse.

They say drug peddlers can find your veins and pulse faster than a surgeon. I smirked at the thought.

Her pulse confirmed my fears. The lub dub of her blood was losing its existence every minute.

The sudden panic overflowed my senses. The haziness cleared up and reality was pouring in on me.

I slapped her hard in desperation. She faintly opened her eyes and looked at me. She tried hard but words failed her.

But that look placed all her trust with me as if she gave her responsibility to me from then on. Then she slowly lost consciousness losing herself to deep sleep.

Suddenly I needed to do something, maybe its long time since anyone trusted me, and anyone believed me.

She gave me the importance that my world and my parents always failed to acknowledge. I was always the one who lost his way and hence could not be trusted.

Her trust on me gave me that lost reason.

I scooped her and lifted her in my arms. For a moment I was amazed by the fragility, the lightness of her as if the burdens of life were slowly dropping off her, letting her go.

I clutched her hard, in a way to stop her from flying away.

In the blurred glitter I ran out of the alley. Suddenly the darkness pulled its blanket of me and like a rabbit of a magician's hat I was out; I was out naked in the world of mute audience.

I stood with her on the crossing of Park Street and shouted for a cab. In the glare of the man made sun, I felt naked, I felt open and scared. People passing sneered and some showed fake detachment. We are a generation of voyeurs, who enjoy misery as their daily evening show when it is on the other side of television. Death is a good entertainment.

The cabs getting hint of my evident poverty stayed away. I was the clown and she was my prop. We had to perform.

I shouted and frantically waved for a cab. One stopped. I looked at him; he motioned me to get in.

I carefully laid her and climbed inside. Her head rested on my lap. The irregular pulse on the back of her neck passed current of hope through my thigh.

I looked at her face for the first time in clear light. A small round face of middle class dreams that somewhere in the sin city lost its way. Now under the dab of cheap Chandni Chowk makeup it hid in the dark alleys. The paleness suggested her fondness or maybe her need of the veil of darkness.
But still under that flashy brown-red lip gloss and double layer of kajal, there were those large Bengali eyes, a faded rosy lips and a dusky beauty.

She was an evening sky covered in clouds of south-west monsoon. She was Meghna. At least for me she was.

And in a moment I wanted to hold her hands when she woke up, and never leave them again.

In the thinning traffic of late night diners and half drunk truck drivers we approached Medical College Hospital. The smell of swabs, antiseptic, pus and death engulfed me.

I dragged her out in my arms. The driver gave an understanding nod that he will wait. I looked around for help.

The porters in stained uniforms turned their gazes and got themselves busy. I walked inside the emergency with her in my arms.

The sadness and blood were strewn aplenty. Diseases were overflowing everywhere. Doctors stayed in their AC cooled cabins and in the cover of darkness the attendants played their little game of doctor-doctor to the winding queue of injured patients.

I went in and put her in the sofa of the emergency room. The attendant with look of anger and self importance came and looked at her. He checked at the pulse and saw the numerous punch holes of self injected syringes.

He rushed for the doctor. The doctor came up and gave a look of pity and disgust to her. We were the lower creatures of the society who are loser by the social standard to those hypocrites of the high rises.

She was for cheap pleasures maybe; she was not for treatment and caring.

He looked up to me and said in a monotonous tone, "So shall I call the cops?"

I said, "But wouldn't that mean decrease in your share of income!"

He gave me the look of hatred and said, "You people ruin the youth"

I smirked, "Sorry!! But it’s you who ruin the youth, we just provide a cushion for their fallback when u shun them with your high ambitions and frivolous dreams"

With a hopeless sigh, he said, "It’s a lot of risk to treat without police consent, 5000 would suffice"

I took out whatever was left in my wallet, I laid it in his hands, and a mere 2000 rupees did suffice his need.

After all we all bargained for our skills, we all are a pimp of our art.

I sat beside her and touched her cold cheeks; I whispered in her ears that I will be by her side.

They asked me her name, I said, "Meghna, it’s always Meghna"

I sat outside till the morning, the darkness was diminishing.

Stream of people flowed in and out, some dead some alive, and few like me stuck between the two.

In the morning I went inside and enquired about her, the nurse went through the file and replied nonchalantly, "Meghna, Expired, before admission" and got herself busy with other files.

I don’t remember how long I stood there. And when my legs got tired I took the bus to esplanade.

I dint cried, but all I remembered was the fainting warmth of her cheek when I bid her goodbye.

They say unclaimed bodies are burnt after 14 days in morgue. So they say!

But in the rising sun, I promised Meghna that I will climb my way out of darkness, I will give myself a second chance.

My blood is purple

My blood will again be red! Someday.

P.S: Am in Hyderabad babey!!! And slowly but surely getting into the tune of dis place....again a crappy fiction for u ppl to deal with....well actually i dint myself liked the flow of the story much...but the whole fiction was a result of discharge of anger on the mismanagement of hospitals which i personally faced a hell lot of times!!

Damn I am one of those once in a blue moon bloggers now!!! Hope to get back on track soon!!!


suruchi said...

Hi Bucking,
I have some 70-80 odd blogs that I follow and a rack of some 200-300 books that have pages I have consumed time n again and stories I have delved into...
Yet I would say it again n reaffirm it...
You are the greatest story teller I have ever read!:-)

You should write more...even your comments make for great reading and such full-fledged posts on your blog is a treat!
Another great write up!
Engrossing...superb expressions like when you mention the lightness of her weight, the glare of Park Street making the narrator feel naked, alluding to the clown and the prop, using “Meghna”, the ambience at the hospital*they scare me too*, being pimps of our art...and endless more...

:-)*bowing down to your mastery*

Please don’t become the ‘once in a blue moon’ blogger...or else we’d start to put blue frames when we see the moon from now on*poor joke, I are going to tear me apart on this one!*

Sayak Shome said...

Great Story.
The metaphors used were commendable and their portrayal was brilliant.
Never for a moment did my excitement and interest snap.
Hats off to you.

By blood is black, it might turn red someday. ;)

bliss said...

totally agree with suruchi!!! i dunno y u did not like it as much but i loved it. the part where he finds hope in her very eyes and how the guy (u, i mean) named her meghna. how her one look gave the guy a will to want to live again. i luuuuuuurved the flow of the story!!!!!

TurbulentMind said...

"They say drug peddlers can find your veins and pulse faster than a surgeon. I smirked at the thought."

" We are a generation of voyeurs, who enjoy misery as their daily evening show when it is on the other side of television. Death is a good entertainment."

some of my favourite lines from your story! I love the way you weave your characters around the plot, never missing the tiny details, always including the city and the city's flavour.


Sayak Shome said...

Correction : By=My in my previous comment. Typographical error. :P

Madhu said...

Whoa u wrote this...boredom struck again eh? u come up with lovely stuff ya!

buckingfastard said...

@suruchi: ahh preposterous!! u just think u can giv ny kind of praise to me and i will read it grinning stupidly and agree with u!!

oh pls!! and even if i may hav grinned stupidly!! i m sure u cant prove!!! :P

and the answer is 'no'..praising my comments wont get u multiple comments for single post on r blog!! jo hai jitna hai usi me hi khush rahna seekho!!!

and pls dont bow down...u may get arthitis pain...apne umar ka to lihaz karo!!! ( dis is for the dat crappy joke!!!revenge baby)

buckingfastard said...

@Sayak: thnkx bro!!! welcome to my blog!!! seriously if i was able to hold a reader's interest in the flow of the story!! it was all worthit!!

:D keep coming!!

buckingfastard said...

@bliss: So hyderabad is not xactly killing my creativity it seems :P

phew!! u liked it!!! btw its da same story i cudnt write beyond 1 para dat day if ur wondering!!

buckingfastard said...

@turbulentmind: 1stly a BIG thankyou for bearing me in my previous posts also and taking the trouble to comment!! :D

and thnkx for pointing out da two even my fav lines :P

and the city's flavor is not included!! Its always dere in me..and so in my writing!! its hard to figure my life without Calcutta!! i just simply LOVE the city!! :)

buckingfastard said...

@Madhu: ohh plagiarism it seems i m getting blamed for!! :) lolz!!

thnkx!! btw boredom dint stuck...its da new enthusiasm in ur city hyderabad dat inspired!! thnkx 2 u den!!

ritupriya said...

hello there! i've been following u for quite sumtym, but i guess u dint notice :-/
never mind ;)

"I was the clown and she was my prop. We had to perform."
i just went u-la-la over this one!! love the calcutta-ish ness of your writing..makes me fall in love with my city ALL over again ;)
keep more coming, this silent reader has decided to speak up :P

would love to see u on my page sometime :)

P.S_ we have a mutual friend (the one who suggested ur blog to me, as i'm just an amateur at blogging)..any guesses?

suruchi said...

You are absooooooooooolutely useless!
I don’t want multiple comments from u on my hai jitna hai usi mein khush hooon! Hmphf!:-)
Anyways there are way too many multiple things happening around to handle! I think I’d survive without you!;-)

And what u called revenge....Ewwwwww...that was sooooooooo much more crappy than mine!
Alrite u win...u are crappier than me! Khush! Now stop competing!

P.S. Look at u going blah blah in praise n gratitude to everyone else in this dumb comment box...and what does a genuine fan like me get???????*I am not saying others are not genuine...but then I needed to do some drama here :-)

buckingfastard said...

@ritupriya: OMG OMG OMG!!! now see dese kind of things make me feel real bad!!! I genuinely had no idea abt ur blog dear!! A BIG SOOORY!!!

:) glad u liked it!!! and u see dats the problem of being silent reader!! i dont get to thank you for bearing me!!!

so next time write nything...not dat u just hav to praise in the comment!! u cant shun it, hate it, or make some arbitary noise just to make ur presence felt!!! and be sure i will love it!!!

and abt dat mutual friend!!! if he/she is someone frm blogworld...dan i may not be able to guess!!! but tell me if he/she is a person i kno in real life...dan i can start guessing coz dere r counted few who kno abt my blog!! so tell me tell me quickly atleast he/she is someone i kno in real life or a sweet blog frnd!! :P

buckingfastard said...

@suruchi:being a genuine fan is da fact dat i genuinely appreciate u!! so u will never get sugercoated replies!!! i will be "straight" wid u!!

and chalo i quit my crappier competition coz!! it saves my blog from the barrage of ur jokes :P and lets u hide ur old age conditions!!

and pls dont survive without me...coz i cant!!! damn dat came out cheesy and sugercoated

TurbulentMind said...

honestly, it was my pleasure reading those posts..and the calcutta bit, allows me to connect..i haven't lived in calcutta a long time, but I feel it throbbing with life..and I feel it within me again :)

PS- thanks for visiting me blog..i am a i try :)

Raghav said...

dude u have serious talent...

u can weave a story as if you had a loom for the job... and your detailing is fantastic... u bring the city to life bro
loved the read

Nikita Banerjee said...

Why degrade the post and call it crappy eh? Its lovely!

Pavitra .... said...

Ohh nice...You really had me hooked there....You've got real write more..!! :)
First time here....liking it...I'll be back!!

Shas said...

Just stumbled on your blog and it was worth it.
Hey this isnt a "crappy fiction" as you term it. Kudos to you for being so sensitive in your portrayals and the metaphors are awesome.
Keep it up dude!!

The West Wind said...

This was an amazing read.. the flow, the narration and every description was mind blowing. Each visual came to life in front of my eyes.. The vivid descriptions of the city and darkness were great.. I couldnt even bat an eyelid while reading it.. great work.. I hope to read more from u :)

blunt edges said...

whoa...couldn't get more engrossing n dark!

"They say drug peddlers can find your veins and pulse faster than a surgeon. I smirked at the thought."

u are a bloody cool writer buddy...keep those gems coming

Thousif Raza said...

i personally loved this story. its laid out like the most beautiful thing i have ever seen, so subtle yet so strong, loved it, the ending was superb, awesome, the climax, i honestly dint expect, it hit me, really brilliant stuff.... loved it man :)

They say drug peddlers can find your veins and pulse faster than a surgeon. I smirked at the thought... my fav line :)

and i'm so sorry wasn't there when you were bored, that's some brilliant bore stuff you've written there :P, loved thing abt porn :P

take care and keep writing......

Bikramjit said...

I consider myself a novice in writing hence I will say that this is indeed a great story and I dont ahve words to appreciate it

Drugs are a menance , I see them everyday in my line of work.. pity people dont understand how much bad things ..

But the article is Fantabulous ...

buckingfastard said...

@turbulent mind: maybe dats da best compliment sooo far!! if my words can remind and make u miss calcutta...den da whole thing is more than worth it!! cheers to calcutta!!

buckingfastard said...

@raghav: i try to...wid the fact dat i dunno how to knit in real life :P

but a praise coming from a dark writer as u r!! i m loving it!!

buckingfastard said...

@nikita: point is!! before posting i already go over my own post soo many times...maybe i loose the touch of it!!! gets repetitive fr me a bit!! :P

buckingfastard said...

@pavitra: welcome dear!! thnkx fr dose goody goody words..and do come back sure!!

@shas: like ur name... r u bong by ny chance!!?? welcome here!! glad u like da metaphors!! and well lill insensitive of me of calling my fiction crappy!! but from my side hope i m good enuf!!

buckingfastard said...

@westwind: luvd ur comment!! dat was honest dissection!! all i wanted to keep it dark enuf!! luks like i succeeded!! i too hope to post more frequently :)

buckingfastard said...

@bluntu: cheers to darkness!! well knew u wud love dose lines..coz i too love it!! :P

hope to keep up my bilaady koolness!!

buckingfastard said...

@thousif: thnk u sooo much!! if my words cud create the picture i had in my mind in ur mind!! da communications seems to be perfect!!

never mind abt the boredom pang!! porn and water kept me alive :D

buckingfastard said...

@bikramjit: ahh its just a story in simple words!! if u liked it...dats my mission accomplished!!!

dunno why ppl resort to drugs!! its like a slow suicide..and dey kno it well!! still!!

sakhii•• said...

ur anger resulted into a nice post!!

Xtreme said...

I'll just say that your fiction ain't never crappy bro. This was yet another good read reflecting the shit that happens.

nil said...

just bumped into your blog! A very very intriguing one, indeed. Really.
A great story, had me hooked to it!
And Calcutta.. sigh.
It's very very close to my heart, that city. I go there quite often. It's a city that's forever lively, and wow you just got me nostalgic :)

Keep writing man, would love to have you on my page sometime!


Surreal said...

I loved the story! :)

buckingfastard said...

@sakhii: welcome here!! :) ohh yea...anger is good uptil it spreads it wrath on keyboard!!

@xtreme: thnks bro for following up!! well nicely summed up!! shit do with it!!

buckingfastard said...

@nil: haha!! as i say if i can get u nostalgic with this...den the whole thing was worth it!! high 5 for a calcutta lover!!

btw is ur name 'nil' as in 'nothing' or as in 'blue'!!

keep visiting!!

buckingfastard said...

@surreal: thnk u!! :D

Shanu said...

Wow..U are a terrific storyteller my frnd!

Loved this post!

Komal Ali said...

You're a great storyteller! :-)
Why would you call it crappy? The flow was awesome...I didn't find any flaws in it.
You know their are stories worst than this. Society bites.

Komal Ali said...

there are*

arshat.chaudhary said...

wow! What a story... by a lesser writer, this would be passable.. but you have really turned this into something!

My first time here.. Will visit more often..

buckingfastard said...

@Shanu: ** lowering eyes in shyness** thank you jee!!

@komal ali: welcome to my blog..and sorry for the late reply!!

glad u liked it...actually i read my own story so many times to find flaws..dat at the moment before publishing it!! in my mind it is full of flaws!! :)

buckingfastard said...

@arshat: welcome here!! dat was a gr8 compliment which i am not sure i can handle well!! haha!! i m a tad lesser writer i presume!!

hope to see u around!!

You Did Whaaat?! said...

I like your blog!!
Check mine out :)

buckingfastard said...

@YDW: glad u liked 2 ur blog :)