04-08-2019, 01:41 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-08-2019, 10:32 AM by Antar. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
# 2
A whiff of that unforgettable smell and hair rose at the back of my neck.
Had IT followed me here, to my safe cocoon and that too in broad day light?
I jerked myself up, becoming aware of a sudden chill in the air. As an icy fog descended down my spine choking out my breath, I made a dash for the stairs - unmindful of the dazed looks of the newly arrived couple, the woman’s words ‘What’s the matter with him’ barely registering, made a swift turn at the landing and with the couple of paces to my door taking forever, dragged myself inside hoping against hope that I had been wrong …
... that unmistakable smell of sulfur … and I was back in Varanasi on that fateful day when my life had turned topsy-turvy.
You dip the ashes in the Ganges, the sacred water carries away the mortal remains and Lord Shiva in tandem with Mahakali cuts the knots that bind the soul to the mortal realm. The liberated spirit moves on.
I had scattered Lisa’s ashes in the holy water and set the urn afloat. She was gone – my Lisa was gone from me for all eternity.
The priest had collected his share from me at the ghat and I had turned my back on Lisa for the last time, fighting a losing battle against my tears. How does one describe such a moment! I felt numb all over and felt as if my body belonged to someone else. That is what grief does to you. I wept, caring no longer if anyone noticed. I had wandered off a bit seeking a solitary place along the river bank where I could sit - unmolested by the mercenary hordes of boatmen and the priests and allow my tears to flow silently. The reddish hues of the setting sun set up spectacular patterns in the moving water and the chiming of distant temple bells announced the commencement of the evening aarati.
He had come up silently and sat down at a distance - that much I could remember and had been staring at me every time I looked up at his direction. Tasseled hair, fiery eyes, rows and rows of colorful beads and of course the chillum - that completed the description.
Another scavenger, I spat under my breath, and got up hurriedly - remembering the train timing for the return journey.
As I took a couple of strides past him he spoke
“Lisa seeks you.”
I stopped dead in my stride. Slowly I moved my head around looking if someone was playing a trick. But there wasn’t a soul to be seen. I turned my gaze back to the dirty looking man who bared his yellow teeth at me.
“Did you say something to me?” I asked
Another flash of the yellow teeth. “Lisa is asking for you.” This time he spoke in English
“WHAT?" I was more shocked than dismayed at his language. Simultaneously I felt an icy dagger being run down my spine. "What is all this nonsense?” I glared.
He spat to the side and looking at me revealed a full set of tobacco stained teeth. Suddenly he burst into an uncontrolled laugh, as if I had said something utterly funny.
“What a slut … hi hi hi”, he clutched his sides trying to stem in the rising mirth, “what a fucking piece of cunt … he he he … fucks non-stop like a ten rupee whore … Lisa … your wife Lisa …our whore Lisa … ha ha … .” He went blue in the face and choked from all that excitement while I stood rooted at the spot. Presently he achieved a semblance of control, cleared his throat and looked up to me, his eyes boring into mine with a mad glaze and his voice that of a predator,
“Come tonight to this place at about ten and you will see for yourself”, he roared.
I just kept staring at the mad spectacle as he relapsed into a paroxysm of coughing, the blood rushing to his face, hands to his mouth and long half minute passed as he regained control. His features contorted as if he was trying to wrestle with something inside. Now it was the eyes of a trapped animal looking around for an escape from an unknown predator and briefly looked at me.
“Get out of here and never ever come here. Go.” He gestured feverishly.
I had turned into a rock and watched him slither away.
Back at the hotel, it was the longest two hours of my life. The first large peg of whiskey had already disappeared and the second was on its way down and still my nerves jangled. It was true that the initial shock had worn off but my thoughts were racing still.
‘What had that been all about? A mad man, a kapalik or a possessed one, WHAT IN BLOODY HELL WAS THAT? Why had he taken Lisa’s name? He had mentioned ‘your wife Lisa’ – how on earth could he know that?’ I got up and paced around in the room – but there was no answer.
‘Could it be possible that Lisa could somehow connect from wherever she was? … … No no no, that won’t do’, I told myself, ‘If I let myself continue along those lines then for sure my next destination might well be madhouse at Ranchi in place of returning to Mumbai.’ I took a deep draught, the bitter taste of whiskey making me alive to my present surrounding. ‘God! What do they do to those poor sods who start seeing or hearing things - lobotomy? Hey, why am I getting so worked up, that poor guy must have certainly been on opium or ganja – and here I was sweating out on his nonsense. All nonsense - pure and utter drivels from one mad man to another about to become one? No no no, what was I thinking?’ I raised the glass and there was that reassuring trickle of whisky.
“That’s that; no further” I banged the glass down.
My train was due three hours from now and I had to settle down to dinner, check out of the hotel and rush to the station in time - I reminded myself forcefully and felt better for having rearranged my priorities and drawn the schedule. I was back in control…
A little past nine, I was back at the river bank carefully looking for the exact spot I had been and preening my eyes for any silhouette that could possibly resemble the wastrel. There was no sign of him. It was a damp and starlit night and I managed to find the place where I had probably dropped my handkerchief in a hurry. I waited there and waited. It was already past eleven and I was still waiting. The night grew progressively dark and I kept on looking at the distant burning piers…
“Why so persistent?" A gentle voice spoke from behind. I jumped and turned about. It was that same English speaking wasted beggar of the afternoon. But surprisingly his voice was mellow.
" You could have simply gone away. Didn’t I tell you not to come here on any condition?” His gruff voice pulled me from my thoughts.
And before I could even utter a word in reply, Lisa stepped out from behind him.
“Get lost you two bit worth sorcerer. I will deal with him henceforth.” She was smiling brightly.
A whiff of that unforgettable smell and hair rose at the back of my neck.
Had IT followed me here, to my safe cocoon and that too in broad day light?
I jerked myself up, becoming aware of a sudden chill in the air. As an icy fog descended down my spine choking out my breath, I made a dash for the stairs - unmindful of the dazed looks of the newly arrived couple, the woman’s words ‘What’s the matter with him’ barely registering, made a swift turn at the landing and with the couple of paces to my door taking forever, dragged myself inside hoping against hope that I had been wrong …
... that unmistakable smell of sulfur … and I was back in Varanasi on that fateful day when my life had turned topsy-turvy.
You dip the ashes in the Ganges, the sacred water carries away the mortal remains and Lord Shiva in tandem with Mahakali cuts the knots that bind the soul to the mortal realm. The liberated spirit moves on.
I had scattered Lisa’s ashes in the holy water and set the urn afloat. She was gone – my Lisa was gone from me for all eternity.
The priest had collected his share from me at the ghat and I had turned my back on Lisa for the last time, fighting a losing battle against my tears. How does one describe such a moment! I felt numb all over and felt as if my body belonged to someone else. That is what grief does to you. I wept, caring no longer if anyone noticed. I had wandered off a bit seeking a solitary place along the river bank where I could sit - unmolested by the mercenary hordes of boatmen and the priests and allow my tears to flow silently. The reddish hues of the setting sun set up spectacular patterns in the moving water and the chiming of distant temple bells announced the commencement of the evening aarati.
He had come up silently and sat down at a distance - that much I could remember and had been staring at me every time I looked up at his direction. Tasseled hair, fiery eyes, rows and rows of colorful beads and of course the chillum - that completed the description.
Another scavenger, I spat under my breath, and got up hurriedly - remembering the train timing for the return journey.
As I took a couple of strides past him he spoke
“Lisa seeks you.”
I stopped dead in my stride. Slowly I moved my head around looking if someone was playing a trick. But there wasn’t a soul to be seen. I turned my gaze back to the dirty looking man who bared his yellow teeth at me.
“Did you say something to me?” I asked
Another flash of the yellow teeth. “Lisa is asking for you.” This time he spoke in English
“WHAT?" I was more shocked than dismayed at his language. Simultaneously I felt an icy dagger being run down my spine. "What is all this nonsense?” I glared.
He spat to the side and looking at me revealed a full set of tobacco stained teeth. Suddenly he burst into an uncontrolled laugh, as if I had said something utterly funny.
“What a slut … hi hi hi”, he clutched his sides trying to stem in the rising mirth, “what a fucking piece of cunt … he he he … fucks non-stop like a ten rupee whore … Lisa … your wife Lisa …our whore Lisa … ha ha … .” He went blue in the face and choked from all that excitement while I stood rooted at the spot. Presently he achieved a semblance of control, cleared his throat and looked up to me, his eyes boring into mine with a mad glaze and his voice that of a predator,
“Come tonight to this place at about ten and you will see for yourself”, he roared.
I just kept staring at the mad spectacle as he relapsed into a paroxysm of coughing, the blood rushing to his face, hands to his mouth and long half minute passed as he regained control. His features contorted as if he was trying to wrestle with something inside. Now it was the eyes of a trapped animal looking around for an escape from an unknown predator and briefly looked at me.
“Get out of here and never ever come here. Go.” He gestured feverishly.
I had turned into a rock and watched him slither away.
Back at the hotel, it was the longest two hours of my life. The first large peg of whiskey had already disappeared and the second was on its way down and still my nerves jangled. It was true that the initial shock had worn off but my thoughts were racing still.
‘What had that been all about? A mad man, a kapalik or a possessed one, WHAT IN BLOODY HELL WAS THAT? Why had he taken Lisa’s name? He had mentioned ‘your wife Lisa’ – how on earth could he know that?’ I got up and paced around in the room – but there was no answer.
‘Could it be possible that Lisa could somehow connect from wherever she was? … … No no no, that won’t do’, I told myself, ‘If I let myself continue along those lines then for sure my next destination might well be madhouse at Ranchi in place of returning to Mumbai.’ I took a deep draught, the bitter taste of whiskey making me alive to my present surrounding. ‘God! What do they do to those poor sods who start seeing or hearing things - lobotomy? Hey, why am I getting so worked up, that poor guy must have certainly been on opium or ganja – and here I was sweating out on his nonsense. All nonsense - pure and utter drivels from one mad man to another about to become one? No no no, what was I thinking?’ I raised the glass and there was that reassuring trickle of whisky.
“That’s that; no further” I banged the glass down.
My train was due three hours from now and I had to settle down to dinner, check out of the hotel and rush to the station in time - I reminded myself forcefully and felt better for having rearranged my priorities and drawn the schedule. I was back in control…
A little past nine, I was back at the river bank carefully looking for the exact spot I had been and preening my eyes for any silhouette that could possibly resemble the wastrel. There was no sign of him. It was a damp and starlit night and I managed to find the place where I had probably dropped my handkerchief in a hurry. I waited there and waited. It was already past eleven and I was still waiting. The night grew progressively dark and I kept on looking at the distant burning piers…
“Why so persistent?" A gentle voice spoke from behind. I jumped and turned about. It was that same English speaking wasted beggar of the afternoon. But surprisingly his voice was mellow.
" You could have simply gone away. Didn’t I tell you not to come here on any condition?” His gruff voice pulled me from my thoughts.
And before I could even utter a word in reply, Lisa stepped out from behind him.
“Get lost you two bit worth sorcerer. I will deal with him henceforth.” She was smiling brightly.
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