Saturday, December 22, 2007

THE BEAST'S POISON

Dusty winds blew over the scarred land, a desert not but barren still. Rail tracks stretched beyond the horizon, crossing the mighty kingdom, bearing the load of a temptress. She rode the train, for days and months, as it trudged along, transversing the desert from one corner to another. It never stopped for anyone, just maintained the pace for all of humanity to ride and leave as their destination approached. A constant flow of flesh and blood, frozen brown in the dust waiting for a familiar minar to pass by in the far distance. Men, women and cattle jumping and landing gently on the soft dunes leaving behind ephemeral prints in the sand as the muezzin called out from dusk to dawn.

She did not befit the company of slaves, so traveled heaving and loving the rulers of iron and fire. No one knew when the journey will end, but her dark eyes and voluminous bosom compensated for the long wait. Her legend was contained within the compartment closest to the heart of the train and its men. The windows shielded them from dirty pink mornings, searing yellow afternoons and fiery orange evenings. The nights stood proud in its lustful secret, devoid of any excuses. Through paper thin walls, men could hear them groan and satiate their hunger till she chose them next.

His hands polished her chocolate skin wrapped smug over her glorious body. His fingers kneaded her breasts and his teeth dug deep into her flesh only to make him moan like a dying hyena. The primeval animals rested on rickety benches, waiting to explode with the juice of their insides. She took him in her hands, piercing his grey eyes with her own, but the desert trapped her tonight. Her palms were stung by a hundred spines. She pulled down the cactus skin to find his fleshy head, her hands working expertly, determined to fight the agony. Her tongue touched the promised tip while her blood trickled down her wrists to tickle his thighs. One final cry of pleasure and she drank from him.

Her purple body will be buried by the mighty desert, first covered in a fine sheet of golden sand, then massive dunes till another poisonous secret is lost in the heart of the dark land.

Friday, December 07, 2007

IRRELEVANT MONOLOGUES WITH A LAPTOP - IV

Symphonic rock is not all that bad. Mostly a girl singing about everything dark and burnt, but the synthesizer pieces are pretty interesting, especially the Scottish effects. But I am bored out of my wits. This four day trip to Kuwait is not doing me any good, except keeping me away from driving. Now, I have already done the shopping bit and now poor daddy has banned me from it. Why are mufflers so bloody expensive, they are just fuckin’ mufflers and my mojo is dying without new ones. I can’t figure how to transfer my phonebook to the new motorazr I bought, so I hate it already. The pod’s headphones have started behaving just as I expected them to. They are adding their own brand of music and will die soon. I forgot to download VLC player on the lappie, so can’t even watch the dozen movies I was saving for this trip. And so despite being surrounded by every pleasure inducing goodie in the world, I am stuck watching VH1.

Why JLo why! how could you release such a terrible single and wear those ghastly outfits. I understand your baby bump needs camouflaging but haven’t we learnt anything from Nicole Richie. And Geri Geri Geri, your washboard abs and black bras can’t get you your own Beckham. And, Posh was that you singing, well ten years too late. It really feels like 1997, even the Backstreet Boys have returned, if only they had gravity defying breasts. Sigh, Britney you would have been the winner, for your nipple sticker, torn fishnets and surviving liposuction yet again, if it weren't for Kylie.

Oh Ok, the new Paul McCartney song is worthless, Mister Tankian, why must you go solo, stick to the system, and yes Queen, I fail to find the magic, hope everyone else can find a condom. God, popular culture is depressing me, so I should walk into the sea, strip and yatch hike all the way to Dubai. Time for some Entourage therapy.

Saturday, December 01, 2007

WHAT IS IT THAT A GIRL CAN DO

She was indifferent to all her lovers. It was always a convenient arrangement, no strings attached, and they all fussed around. They all wanted the indifferent girl, because she gave the freedom and didn't care. She didn't say love yous. She didn't take the flowers home. She didn't see them ever again. Her heart was a fortress guarded by ice cold feelings. And so they came and went, only the names changed, the setting didn't. Flashing lights and erotic movements reaching out through disenchanted bodies, mocking love for a fickle pursuit. Till it was decided that she was to change; she was to cut out all the lovers she did not need.

The wheels of karma completed infinite revolutions and turned the tables. Now they come back to haunt her. She watches from the bar, ignoring the advances of new men, born to be lovers of the distant kind. She can't take her eyes off him. He was nothing to her. Tonight he was just a car ride and free cocktails. But she couldn't take them anymore. She didn't want his body, the body she always had. She wanted him, in a way she could never have him. It was years too late.

The conversation continued, while her eyes strayed around searching for him. She recognized his act, perfect in its seduction. Years ago, on a similar night she had been the chosen prey, it was another's turn tonight and it would be a matter of minutes before the smiles will be returned and he will return with another conquest. Yes, years ago he could have been the right guy but tonight he was the wrong guy. Of course she chose the wrong guy, while the right guy stood there watching her fall for him.