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Chapter Eight
It was one thousand eight hundred seconds before she came. There was a faint creaking sound as the centuries-old wooden doors stirred in their pivots. As she walked towards me, the flames from the hearth stared at her furiously, incensed at the impropriety of the late night visit. Indifferent to their concerns and clad in a full size shirt and blue pyjamas, she stood there in the sizzling light, watching me.
Getting up, I went to her. I hesitated for just a tiny moment before finding her squashy lips for a long husky kiss. Our lips fitted perfectly, like two puzzle pieces.
I met no resistance when I led her to the lavish double bed.
By now the flames had reconciled to our union and were throwing benevolent and generous glow over the walls and around the room. I looked down to see the bulging breasts through the opening between the two shirt buttons. Taking my hands, she guided them under the shirt. Very soon, two pairs of hands were squashing and
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She was sitting at the foot of the bed, her eyes, as always immeasurable, fixed on me.I grinned, “Good morning; what o’clock is it?”“Eight o’clock and it is good evening,” she said.As she edged towards the middle, I tried to get up but pathetically fell back.I looked around the unfamiliar room which was unadorned and simple to the mansion’s standards.“What happened?” I asked feebly.“You have been sleeping for fifteen hours,” she said while stroking my forehead upwards.Suddenly I realized that I had a splitting headache and squeezed the eyelids while holding her hand tightly.“Why?” The question came out painstakingly from my lips.She brushed her lips against mine, “Don’t st
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My spirit returned to the body. We were still in the Land Rover and I was lying stretched to the full, like a well-mannered and considerate corpse would normally lie. On her orders, the two men had brought a bucketful of dried yak dung cakes which they transformed into an inferno, a little away from the car. Then, they carried me like a sack of dried tapioca towards it. After about forty minutes of dung heat, some hot milk and a few very hot touches from her, my spirit stirred and the body started feeling better enough for us to continue the ascend.Once again she was behind the wheel and I, in the front passenger seat. The climb ahead was so steep, the fuming and exasperated automobile paused for a frightening moment when and where it was not supposed to stop, forcing me to think that it had finally decided that enough was enough, and was considering going in the reverse at the speed of light. Twelve thousand feet! I shuddered. But, she was made of sterner stuf
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Mount Everest was quaking and slowly tilting towards Bihar and UP. I tried to scream out to Nitish Kumar and Mayawati to move out of the way but the voice was trapped in the throat and wouldn’t come out.I opened the eyes into her smiling face. She gave me a small kiss on the lips before putting a clay cup of tea in my stiff hands.“Nanaji will meet you at ten,” she said.I tried to snuggle under her sweater but she pushed me away, “Look at the watch.”I had less than thirty minutes. I asked, “How do I start…, I mean, how do I greet him or what do I tell him first?”“There is no need to panic; I have already spoken to him. He knows all about you and the purpose of your visit. There will be a flat stone at his feet. Sit on it and ask your questions,” she said while massaging my head.
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After lunch we went for a walk, a little away from the cottages. We walked under the hanging cliffs, by the scary edges of the bottomless plummets and among the huge boulders. She was holding my hand tightly, as if trying to protect me from some unknown foe. We stopped as we came to a soaring white expanse of ice standing almost vertically in the air, without any support or attachment. I stared disbelievingly at the awesome sight.“A waterfall, frozen many, many years ago,” she said.Taking away the eyes from the breathtaking sight, I looked at the countless boulders in all shapes and sizes. Some were as big as a hut while a handful, in the shape and size of a football.Therewerenotrees or shrubs, so the vegetation was mainly mosses, lichens and algae.The sub-zero temperature and the harsh winds had made the place a totally inhospitable area.As my eyes moved
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After he had seated himself on the raised boulder, I sat on the stone at his feet. I waited for him to start.“Tell me about your work,” he said.I gathered the relevant details in the mind before starting, “I run a social organization, engaged in creating awareness about the perils of global warming,” I paused to look towards the ice-walls and mentally questioned the appropriateness of giving a lecture on global warming.He read my thoughts, “Global warming is not all about warming and heat only; it has more to do with the erratic climate patterns we see around the planet.”I said amen to that.“How do you create awareness?” he asked.“We work mainly among college and school students. Regular awareness campaigns are conducted at schools and colleges. We have two centers: one in Koch
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The year was 2011The monsoon clouds were all around the Tribhuvan International as the small aircraft buzzed towards the far end of the domestic airstrip before raising its head upwards in a silent prayer, to signal the first leg of our saunter to Mount Everest. It was without doubt the smallest plane I had ever been on. We looked down to see Kathmandu scurrying away as if offended at the saunter and our mission.As the plane soared laboriously, I watched the thick fog and clouds with apprehension, wondering how the pilot could see anything in these conditions. I sent out an elfin, nonetheless passionate prayer to God. As if in response the aircraft climbed higher into the bright sunshine before turning its nose towards the north- east, while we released the chains and leaned back.The flight on such a small plane through the mightiest mountain ranges in the world was mind-blowing, to say the least; the trip w
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I looked around. The boat was docked at the Vypin quay and passengers were disembarking.The meeting with the headmaster of the local school had consumed more time than I had bargained for, and it was almost evening before I returned to my empty flat at Kaloor, a minor suburb of Kochi. The late lunch I had taken at an unpretentious hotel was making me heavy and drowsy. Without bothering to change, I stretched my weak and pitiable body on the bed as the sleepy eyes fell on the ceiling. Ignoring the weak and pitiable body, the energetic and enthusiastic mind asked whether it could return to Kathmandu. I nodded drowsily.Four days had passed since the encounter at the canteen and the interactions between us were trying to move on from the ‘hello- hello’ phase.It was five past nine on that day. She and her friends were standing in the shadowy corridor, leading to our class.The corridor was crowded with boys and girls, the chaos perfect
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The talented Arabian mosquitoes were practicing the sixth symphony. That was my signal to wake up. I looked at the watch: seven past. I had to prepare the project report which must be on the collector’s table by nine in the morning, if I honestly expected the funds to be released on time. Crossing to the table, I pulled the attaché towards me while lighting a cigarette.The St. Peter’s country liquor shop is in downtown Kochi, between the old railway over-bridge and the ESI Dispensary road, where the distance between the two is the narrowest. Looking around, I nodded smilingly at the familiar faces. Most of them, like me were regulars at the pub. After completing the report and finishing a cold shower, attired in a new pair of clothes, I had gone to the printer at Kacheripady to return the proof of the monthly journal. Coming out of there I had crossed to MG Road and walked past Shenoy’s theater to reach the auditor. After thirty minutes with him, I w
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