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UnknownHope Obooko Gen0169
UnknownHope Obooko Gen0169
Zahid Ahmed
2
Guddu
Late monsoon days had not made the most convenient way
for extremely cold winters yet. The morning was very much
dewy initially. As the spell proceeded, it turned out quiet
morning like other undisturbed days. And the illusive fog
had almost been diminished by this time. The position of the
sun was at early stage, later it would become variable and
unreliable. The sheesham trees on both the sides of the long
stretched narrow road had silent boughs and sleepy
canopies. The boles looked shrivelled into ineffectual sun
rays. The far off mountains as always looked hazy and
white, and often glistened when the sun shuffled over the
sheets of swarming grey and heavy clouds. The rays, bunch
of golden beams, whenever poured down like sudden
waterfalls, patches of brightness and vividness had caused
immense joy on the earth.
He was out for a while. Had a hope, and longing to see how
life runs in sheesham trees when they got actuated by tender
zephyr. It had murmured a new day’s enigma into him. The
morning soft breeze was extremely slow in pace, crossing
him like cavalier ripples. Being in ignorance but brazen too,
lustily. Deliberately. He returned inside.
3
“They both would come soon.”
Nani and he were seated inside the thatch roofed hut. Nani
could not get up until he finished tea. Her deep gaze fixed
on him and he was untidily sipping and devouring. Stained
his magenta kurta, drops from mouth trickled down on his
legs around the locked ankles.
4
“No....Nani, I am done. My belly is full.”
“Where is Nana?”
“Nana........gosht.”
“Hmm....ok...Nana.”
It had been a few days; he had not seen the grunting trucks
passing through the narrow road. A strange fascination
swept his mind, whenever he saw trucks and black vehicles.
A curiosity would rise within him to know about heavy and
intriguing vehicles. He had lovely captivation towards all
sorts of vehicles, especially if they were in motion. He
would remain spellbound by imperial sizes, and heavy
fixtures like fuel tank, silencer smirched with soot, and
heavy tyres. He would count the tyres of an inert truck if
found in nearby vicinage. He was very much addicted to
happily inhale the diesel stink that gushingly came out of the
silencer, mixed with absolute black smoke. Often, he had
thrust his mouth on the silencer to suck diesel smell of its
burnt out fuel and gathered soot and black carbon. And
many people had caught him red handed. Once he had slept
6
between the tyres of a truck, underneath a silence, with
some of the stray dogs. Nana got complaint about that,
which made him to grunt menacingly at him. He would say
nothing, but in a bubble of revolt he would stomp his legs
on the ground and insist about himself being guiltless.
And that time would be the toughest time for him to leave
his granny to go along with his parents. He wouldn't
recognise them openly. They would need to insist upon
being his parents. His till now memories and waggishness
were associated with these two old people in the world. He
did not want to leave them at any cost, but at the same time
wished to stay with his parents too.
He was light, cosy and full of heart. Although, both the road
sides were adorned with myriad and long sheesham trees.
But he believed the sheesham tree with a heavy trunk and
myriad boughs stood exactly at his courtyard's border was
the ever flourishing one. It had been independently swinging
and singing with the bends and twists of the breeze with
harmonious rustling under the nubilous sky.
It could not rain right away and he was happy upon his just
born prediction. An innocent, unconstrained smile, like
shallow ripples of river had been continuously surfacing
between his slender pink lips, and giving reasons to enjoy
fleshy cheeks and brown eyes. He wasn't a chubby boy. A
fair slender boy, who sports long hair, he had seen in the
English filmy posters that a filmy hero had to sport long and
lustrous hair. He hugely imitated English actors and always
8
tried to carry the same grace and disposition that kept him
lively and extra cheerful. His mannerism was silent, erratic
and purely indigenous. But his overall semblance did not
indicate single nationality. He had not bathed today as he
was feeling a little cold and ably convinced grandparents
with the same plausible excuse. Just like other boys of his
age he too was an ablutophobic.
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road sumps and puddles. Rain shackled him with unwanted
confinement.
10
and reeking foul smell, quite unpleasant, causing a lot of
trouble and uneasiness to the senses.
Bhuri sensed water and felt thirsty; the rope from his hands
began loosening up. He gave up the rope completely. Bhuri
with gusts of strong smelling puffs began drinking water
from the stagnant puddles. Ripples were less frequent and
very tiny to be noticed by wind. The sun rays had been
occasionally twinkling and zingling, niggled with clouds,
passed through the cold breeze to made route among the
dense dangling boughs of sheesham trees, which stood
randomly, and were interspersed far beyond his sight. The
soil around the sarkari hand-pump was muddy and the grass
reeked grumpiness and looked slippery by nature. Guddu
utterly hated grumpiness. Consequently, grumpiness would
compel him to wash hands and limbs, and he was dreary
afraid of chill water. Mostly, hand-pumps of his region drew
out chill water, much chillier than the day's average
temperature.
Guddu did not know from what end train would come in?
Most of the passengers were seated on the rasped floor of
the platform. And some were dozing off on the broad
elevated cemented edges of the iron poles. The iron poles
supported the platform shade. It was lofty enough to remain
undisturbed by hands. It was made of heavy black jute
material. And had ripples like crest and trough architecture.
It was said that the station was very old in Mazhola's
15
railway history. It was built by the early Britishers. Since
then no changes in modern conveniences had taken place.
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train. But that never happened because of that old man’s
strictness.
His gaze was not fixed on the getting off passengers because
he was partially aware that his parents would come by
different train. That train would come from the opposite
end. Not from Tanakpur end. He assured himself that his
parents could not be the passengers of this train. Though he
was not so excited and hopeful about their coming still there
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was an unknown hope and anxiousness that says that one
day either parents or his father alone would get off one of
the trains. He had heard from the hutment folk that his father
was a big shot and his mother a beautiful lady, who had
gained a queenly status just after marrying his father.
22
He did not know what time exactly it was then? He was
comfortably looking straight at the sky, at the slanting sun,
on normal days it settled towards the railway station's
direction. Behind the far off stood mountains. The sun had
been out for a few hours and the rain clouds did not maze or
obscure it so frequently. The Maghreeb evening might fall
anytime. He caught hold of the rope, and began leading
Bhuri. At the end of the narrow road, the chaat vendor's
house was open; two women had been washing clothes and
utensils at their private hand-pump. And beside the hand-
pump, a few yards away a black dog was lying drowsily
against the leeside of the brick wall. Guddu became
courageous and alert too, he came close to Bhuri, still
holding the rope tightly. The chaat-thela was not there, and
he apprehended the vendor would return in the late evening
from Adda. Mostly chaat vendor set out for the market road
just after the last spell of the day. Therefore, he became sure
that evening was not so far away. He hoped reaching home
before Nana.
When he was near the courtyard he let the rope go and Bhuri
jerked into the courtyard. One charpoy was laid out in the
middle. Upon hearing Bhuri's hoot and unnecessary bleat,
she came out of the hut. Guddu stopped straight at the hand-
pump. He stroked two to three hands with a gust of force
and filled his throat with chilled sweet water. He washed
bedraggled toes and ankles, and hands till the elbows. He
washed face too. A dishevelled appearance transformed into
a decent look.
His eyes were little haggard, and shrinking in starvation
although he did not urge her to gave him something to eat.
He thought, and then preferred to wait till dinner. He sat on
the inside charpoy, and then lay down, limbs and hands
were wide spread. Nani began clanking soil painted earthen
utensils and raked the fire in no minutes time in chulha. She
23
had warmed masoor daal. Soon she put some cold rice and
sizzling masoor daal upon the cliff of rice and handed to
him. He gained sitting position and ate gladly. He did not
speak to her. Nani had given up scolding him for this food
habit nuisance. Every day he would follow the same routine
and artfully skip lunch. He had been growing more vagrant
than expected at his age. Nani was worried about his
vagrancy and lost status, but could not afford to complain
Nana, as she knew, then he would become more impudent
with strings of angst and vengeance. She clearly recognized
his inner child and wild instinct.
Nana might come in sometime, just before the final sun set.
Then, invariably, Nani would make tea for everybody. He
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lay on the charpoy, and stretched himself with a feel of
royalty and repleteness. The gone train of the morning had
been still rattling in him and his thoughts were continuously
chasing it; and imagining and reflective it again and again. It
was thrilling and fun frolic to catch the sight of the train.
The road kept the rattling of vehicles and motors alive but
trains' toot was unique, and matchless to his senses. The toot
filled everything, for many miles ahead and behind.
He had also heard that train did not toot frequently like tiny
buses and ugly trucks. Every toot held a signal, a message
for far off people and flora. He wished he were living
around or near the railway line or the station. Nana and Nani
once had said that his parents travelled a lot by trains. And
she had also reported that Guddu had been carried on a train
when he was very small, a child of her mother's lap. Since
the day he began understanding the motors and the trams of
the world transport he did not get any chance to travel by
train. He had touched the halted bogies a handful of times.
Often, he feared the train would begin moving with an
unexpected jerk and he might fall down or slip down on the
railway track between the iron wheels. And mercilessly
trampled and killed by red train. That fear lanced him to the
bone; therefore, till the time train halted completely he
would tightly cling to the iron pillar upon which the shade
rested.
Bhuri with the same obedience like other days was seated
inside the barn which was unlit yet. The courtyard was
empty, perhaps Nani had sensed the mood of clouds during
her long stay at home in the afternoon. It had now become a
tenebrous evening. Black clouds were swarming
enthusiastically, seemingly floating very low from the top
perch of the sheesham tree. Guddu thought rain would come
in torrential form, full of wilderness and obsession to
destroy poor people, with horrendous striking and heavy
blow of storm. If that happened, he was sure Bhuri would
die as soon as the thatch roof would blow away. He was
aware that Nana hadn't spliced up the barn thatch with
perfect masculinity last summer.
The living hut was fostered by soiled walls, and the shade
was made of double thatch spliced nicely, perfectly and
tightly to the eucalyptus logs. The courtyard was deserted
matching his heart. Whirling wind laden with dust was
26
traversing one end to another, as high tides criss-crossed in
tenebrous and disturbed seas. The wind, under the black,
gloomy and heavy clouds gained speed noticeably. The
clouds went berserk, merging and raging and jostling in
monstrous wilderness. It was amazing, but at the same time
a little morbid to see such abnormality in the vast sky. More
clouds added from behind and just above him space was full
of blackness, it had become the rayless world for him. He
wondered how Nana would come if he was on way home.
And the 7.30 train might not come tonight; perhaps it would
halt in the midst of jungle to avoid danger passing on the
narrow gauge. He did not know what time it was? But he
was sure the day had gone to its home, would come
tomorrow with his big brother – the sun. His instinct had
made a tale; assumed day and night brother and sister.
Always collided with enormous enmity.
And at far off distance, beyond the railway crossing and the
hidden shade of the station, the trees of different heights and
variable canopies firmly silhouetted against the sky. The sun
had been hid before it could set. Guddu did not know where
the sun had gone and settled. At here, above and around his
home and the hutment string, the day was gone for the day.
It would not come back. The next morning might bring
vividness and brightness. But the premonition of storm
continued. No respite took place in the sky; it could be
possible the storm might shift to nearby town or village. But
it was hugely depended upon the speedy winds, which had
been steering up the cloudy clouds. The fantasy of the
floating clouds, the wilderness of the spreading darkness
and the solitary bird kept him bewitched.
“Yes Nani.”
“I have partially begun cooking and still your Nana has not
come up with the evening meal stuff. Isn't he a careless
man? she cried.
29
“Gosht fry for him.” Nana said teasingly. And he wanted to
see what kind of ecstasy would blossom on his white face.
He grinned shyly and said, “Then, cook fast, I am
hungry.........Nani.”
“Ok beta, but don't go out, it has started raining.” Nana lit a
beedi upon finishing the tea and sat on the charpoy. And
Guddu sat beside the chulha and carefully observing Nani,
she was keenly busy with pair of tongs and clacking of
utensils. The fire in the chulha had been grown into regular
flames, causing smoke rarely in the hut. The outside fierce
winds had been pulling out the incompatible smoke on
regular trips. Clearing the suffocation neatly and converted
the hut ambience into pleasant serenity.
The pattering did not reduce. He waited for some time. And
the heavy belly trumpeted sleep. Amnesia ascended over
him. He grew lazy and dull to keep further pace with
vigilance. He was silent. And pretended he was sleeping,
both Nana and Nani had been silent too on the different
charpoys. He thought that Nana would light up at least a
beedi before the final retirement. But he did not. Smoulders
in the chulha crackled occasionally. And the earthen lamp
which was kept just above the chulha in an alcove was
smooth and continuous. He tossed and turned and tried to
disturb the ambience but efforts went unnoticed. It was
mixture of everything to-night, the sound of the harsh rain,
the crackling of the smoulders, the darkness was mellow
because of the earthen lamp’s magenta light. He closed his
eyes; his thoughts still attached to the barn, to Bhuri, and the
7.30 coal train which had not arrived yet. He was sure that
the spell of the rain suffered night had come ahead and
beyond 7.30 hours.
The narrow road led to the railway station had grown into a
treacherous route. Sinuous winds were horrendously
snaking and bumping on the passage; spread heavily above
and below; swamped, filled and shook the wild shrubs and
stems with a devilish force, began crunching down like dry
dead worms. Soon, there was a thunderous black flash out,
darkened the sight and scene, and there, with great
horridness surfaced the acrid smell of burning coal; the fetor
of polluted waters; the malodour of excreta; the reek of
stale sweat and the black tea; and a pungent stink of decayed
flesh. Stray dogs and muddied black buffaloes were butting
and jerking wildly. They were accosting and retreating with
the same gusto, seemed astounded and feared of twirling
spirits and goblins. Their fearsome grunting was excessively
loud and horrendous. At times, looked as they were
extolling the dark spirits hovering around them. Guddu and
Bhuri seemed puny to them as their size was overgrown,
beyond the natural maximum size. The group of stray dogs
were laughing, wailing and howling at full strength like
blood thirsty wolves over a lately died dog that was brutally
trampled by military truck. Guddu being the hero sharply
grasped a long wooden stick by the littered roadside. He
33
vehemently patted the wooden stick in the puddles; water
flashed out fiercely, dogs shrank, moved away, but their
howling and barking did not stop. They were barking but at
each step they were retreating. It was a strange day, the rain
had just poured in gallons and the sun was abducted by
heavy and nubilous clouds. The monstrous buffaloes began
high trumpet, scared both of them, as he was the only
human on the narrow road. The retreating dogs accelerated
the sepulchral barking intensity. The buffaloes
spasmodically jerked and rattled randomly, seemed wild,
undomesticated, Guddu was horrified, and unable to
understand, what form had been taking place.
He leaped towards her, sat beside her and swooped down his
tender little hand over her belly and the upper bone
partition. She shook her head and sneezed coldly. Guddu
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laughed upon her condition. He laid his hand beneath her
jaw; she nibbled on his hand, slobbered palm lines and hand.
“Thank you clouds; look how she is at rest and peace. Her
wide eyes are open and reflecting tranquilly of peace.”
Nana returned hurriedly like a gawk; threw off the half burnt
beedi and shouted aloud for him. Nani retorted back, “He is
eating.” He heaved a sigh of relief and his forehead became
normal upon seeing Guddu inside the hut.
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“What happened last night?”
“Due to the heavy rain last night, the 7.30 train was robbed
by hooligans. And a few passengers were shot dead too. The
train is still waiting at the railway station, all gathered
around by English policemen.”
“Guddu you will not go out today, stay with Nani. It’s risky
to go to that side.” Guddu was silent; he was interested in
further story. When Nana took his tea, he sat beside him and
hurled strange questions appertaining to the train dacoity,
the previous night's rain and the railway station. And also
expressed relief upon that his parents were not the
passengers of the previous night's train.
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had not moved off yet. He did not know what kind of
casualties had taken place with that train.
The road that never used to be busy, had now become busy,
trucks after trucks, green trucks rumbled on the narrow road.
Mostly heading off towards Tanakpur side. Guddu came
out, keenly staring at the passing by trucks. They were
moving at normal speed. Clearly, they were fauzi trucks,
and inside he could clearly spot sagged sepoys, holding
slender guns and clumsily wearing green helmets, covering
their heads and half foreheads. One by one many trucks
passed him, his eyes met many sepoys, and he shuddered
and feared of being taken away. He clinked his both the
eyes, and partially seemed closed, he thought they would
consider him a blind boy and would leave him unscathed.
He came back to his hut, leaving the left curiosity being
trampled on the road. Where, caravan of trucks made
Mazhola an active semi-urban place.
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“Those dacoits have killed some English women and
children.”
A few middle aged men from the hutment, who were his
factory mates, worked in the same factory, accompanied
him and came inside the hut for sizzling conversation and
adult gossiping. Guddu felt bored, he busied himself frisking
bundles of clothes and untidily jumbled up the sundry items
and rusted accessories. His searched gained sheer gusto of
wild rummaging when Nana and other fellow mates sat on
the charpoy and began conversing with heavy drags of
beedi. Doddering Nani was preparing tea. In the home
Guddu was the most ignored human. But being a boy of
wild curiosity he was keenly and secretively listening to
their conversation. The people started with the German
tales, he thought his father might have been sent to fight
along with the Germans, after some minutes he discovered
that his father perhaps gone to battle against the German
soldiers. As with the old people’s conversation it was clear
that Germany and England was not ally at all. They were
fierce rivals. One of the taciturn, whose name was
Baghiram, turned on the radio. Two to three voices babbled
in collision of different languages, confused everybody,
Baghiram by sleight of hand got the appropriate and the
needed frequency. In Hindi. It was full of political and
social whims, despite that he had begun understanding the
intricacies of adults' world and wars. And he got a strong
hunch that he would lose upon his wanderings and outings.
The topics about fauz, war, and the Englishmen were
instigating his hidden curiosity. And in between he also
heard that his own father was part of the English fauz and
41
had gone in a war for a long time. And perhaps might not
return. However, he and his God believed he would return.
He did not know how his parents or his father look like.
How he would recognise him. He hadn’t had any memory in
which he could recollect their faces. Mazhola was silent and
unattached by any sort of force. But, still there was large
fear looming that any time a fighter plane might drop a
bomb or crash landed. He was extremely afraid of the
sudden, fear instilling sound of the fighter planes.
Engrossment in the war tales and wait of his parents
lessened his companionship with Bhuri with passage of
days. She remained seated around the charpoy, in the
courtyard. Though he stood on the edge of the courtyard but
44
always kept an eye on Bhuri. About her roaming. Nana had
been getting hay by neighbours as a help for Bhuri.
As his head was laid in her lap, she began her familiar night
song for him and he slowly-slowly closed his eyes and
embraced the night, the darkness and the loneliness.
“Do not cry my child
Do not cry my child
As you are too little to worry about worldly and material
worries
As you are destined to get showers of love, some days by
us, some days by your parents.
And rest of the days by God himself.
Do not cry my child
Do not cry my child.”
“If it is true my father is a soldier, then I must find him and
join his army.”
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“Yes.......just like you........he is fair, broad and healthy, his
eyes are deep and impactful. But he does not sport long hair
like you. That's the only difference between him and you.”
“Ok.........Nani”
“Really?”
“Yes my son.”
“If you study, then you too can join the fauz just like your
father.”
As it was very cold and the fog was immensely thick he did
not see any figure just around the courtyard. Previous night
he himself had tightly closed the barn entrance to avoid
Bhuri from the night's excessive chillness and foggy
dampness. He drank tea, ate rotis and lazed down on the
charpoy in futility.
47
standing in a silent queue at the sarkari hand-pump, with
tiny green buckets in their hands.
“Where are you going little boy?” one of the sentries asked
resignedly, he was stood on the left side. Guddu looked
innocently into his deep and haggard eyes. His lips were
cracked, and boots were shining and the gun butt was rusted.
Above, the barrel was stolid black and shining brilliantly in
winter’s low sun.
50
Unknown Place
The platform was large and had several medical tents on it.
The commotion was large, contrary to his world.
“What are you saying lady doctor?” They both sighted him,
looked profoundly at his belly, which was exhaling and
inhaling fresh air heavily.
“Or if you can’t then let me go to the station I will catch the
train somehow.”
The world was a disturbed world for him. Very strange and
weird than his own world. He had been running, not so fast,
but carefully, avoiding the main road. He was mainly
55
passing and running behind the long random rows of trees.
The trunks were wide and huge enough to hide his running
presence. One more truck rattled towards the camp road.
The dust whirled as it was fast pacing. And uneasiness
moaned through the towering trees.
The street was long, after not so long distance two roads
from the east and the west criss-crossed. The rusted market,
tightly closed shops and the chilled pavement were fallen in
diversions and he hoped that he might find something
valuable. The thought of going back to the camp was
relishing, he was fugitive, an absconder from her. But, a
defeat at the same time. He was immensely caught in the
thick web of befuddlement. The sound of ammunition was
continued. Had she have a sort of infatuation to him? He
lived alone and lone, so his thoughts were less sophisticated
and wild though strange and odd to himself. Partial snowfall
had been begun. He came under the shade. The flakes were
soothing to teary eyes. So light and continued! He
mesmerized, a smile passed across his lips, which might get
cracked overnight.
He was made laid on the bed. She reduced the light of the
room to mild ambience. He was half awake, enjoying the
trance caused by the red wine. He had been murmuring and
she was enjoying his state of mind and the pleasure he was
groping within him. As she drew her torso near him; her
body's erotic fragrance dazed him. He tossed and turned like
an innocent ripple near the bank. She lay beside him and
kissed his lips with contrition. He could not control, glued
his lips to hers. He was breathing within her. She took him
in her arms and softly murmured, “I love you.” She spent
the night erotically caressing and kissing his body
repeatedly. He did not know what exactly had happened
with him, but he was pleased in ignorance.
Before dinner, he would sit near the window and watch the
snow flow for hours. The winter was on the run, so the war.
She began him teaching to keep him engaged while she was
at duty. And he had begun learning quite fastly. At her will
she wanted him to be an erudite gentleman of Anglo-Indian
origin. That would be his new originality. After duty hours
she would profoundly busy herself in two things mainly:
dinner and he. She adored him a lot while teaching basics of
conversation, mannerism, cutlery etiquettes, club meetings
and so on. He was excessively fair; it would be difficult to
figure him out as an Indian at first sight. His colour was her
prime attraction. In the day they would hardly murmur or
talk about the night spells of incomplete love makings. Her
fellow mates were under impression that she had adopted
that boy for benign grooming and might take him to
England to nurture and better his life.
Throughout the day he would keep the radio on and scan the
yellowish newspapers just to see the enticing black and
white pictures of Indian leaders and freedom fighters. He
was provided with plenty of crafting and drawing material.
He was taught to draw paintings to pass his time. The two
Sisters would hover around him and lovingly try to talk to
him. He would think nothing about them. They would
65
fondle him like a kid, a growing kid. He did not have any
idea what they were planning for him. His childhood was
still filled with loneliness though his living standard was
improved drastically but it had a condition behind it. And he
knew it, since he was silent and living with it.
It was not a bitter truth of his life that he had been got
addicted to her sexual desires. He had been sleeping with
her almost every night and equally responding to her
touches and aphrodisiacal stimulants. He became
accustomed to the red wine. The mildness and drowsiness,
in which he used to lost, now reduced to very much in his
senses. His instinct filled with lust and carnal desires.
She spread over him, and he bit her lips. She responded
well, within minutes both unbuttoned each other's clothes
with a flurry of rush. He would listen to her and practise the
same tactics. The intensity of their love making had been
grown, and she expected him to gain maturity soon for the
complete wild course. He would kiss her dedicatedly all
over her white chiselled body. The more she would hiss and
scream softly, the more he would scamper over her. It
became ravishing experience to be with her the entire night.
The first and few rays of warming sunlight deepened the
redness of the red blinds, she brushed the hair from his face,
a face satiated of pleasure and befuddlement. Nude and
wildly strewn; she closed him by cover; kissed his forehead
and splendidly joined layers of lips. She got off the bed and
paced out for the first morning tea.
They enjoyed a short and powerful nap but did not give up
each-other. He began kissing her. When he reached at the
belly she hissed with an upsurge. He kissed and bit her, over
her belly. She stretched her legs, folded in the air, and then
clutched him. He moved below her waist. She cried ‘baby’
lustily. And then he put head between beautiful legs and
hurriedly kissed her thighs. His kisses were arousing her. He
bit her pubic zone. She stretched legs to maximum angles.
He lay over her; covering her inner sanctum artfully and
began pumping with erect penis. She filled with sensuous
joy. He rubbed over her for a long time. Both were gasping
and fell on sides for each other. He clung to her and kissed
her and did not leave her neck.
68
The Burnt Barrack
69
below the magenta high tides. He would reach on the verge
of fantasy fenced by unperturbed serenity and calmness.
The fog remained the same for some time. The gone night
took away the moon. The sun rays had replaced the
charming musical waves. Now, it was morning. And the
entire day was ahead. The other side of nature became
71
conscious, movements, chirping, upbraiding, and vibrations
took rhythm to support the pace of life.
72
He drank milk and secretly passed his half–eaten pudding to
a black boy of his age sitting beside him, to get rid of a dull
taste. He thought of lunch and mutton, if cooked with right
paste of condiments otherwise he had to postpone hunger
for dinner in a hope of a sumptuous food.
“Why the black crows didn’t hover or fly around its shadow.
Why there was a red ant’s hill upon its uprooted roots. Why
its bark was rasped, scrapped and stumbled? Did someone
harass teak trees?”
“Yes the goblins and spirits. Therefore all these teak trees
are sad, despondent, dry and impassionate to wait for the
next spring.” They had dying spirit. He squinted eyes for the
better observation, for the steep sight, sudden birds began
chirping, as far his eyes level raised,
logs….logs….timberland, stems, trunks, trunks, brown,
soiled colour, rough colour, at times dark too, as a monster
tethered the logs intermittently for a wild purpose.
The day become more still; even the chirpiness from the
barracks direction died out. He tabbed toe to create a sound,
a cranky sound out of the scattered and dry floor leaves, and
he liked it.
Her blonde hair ruffled like thick smoke, she had become
outlandish ravishing in that short period of parting. She bit
him wildly. He scampered around. He could feel her
shaking, a deep muscular contraction as her body craved to
generate heat and warmth through combined nakedness. He
flung the bolsters around her and began rubbing himself as
vigorously as he could. Panting slightly, he opened his eyes
and rolled over, an impish smile laced with immature
puberty burst on his face. She kissed him on the cheeks,
enjoying the smoothness, he kissed her back.
“Wine?”
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