Touch

His hands held his friend's shoulders. They were sitting together, side by side. They were really good friends but recently they had begun to discover something else in their friendship.They looked at each other's eyes. Both could see a sparkle. His hands began exploring her backside. Slowly his fingers went from her blouse to the naked part of her back. Her skin flinched. She smiled. Evidently she liked his touch. How did his touch feel? Did it pound her heart? Did she blush? Wasn't that touch everything she had ever dreamt about? His hands..on her naked back. Someone else sitting on the back looked on. She was afraid of touch of any kind. But his hands...would they dissolve her fear? But why was he doing it in front of her? He was not touching her, he was touching his friend. Then why did she feel like he was teasing her? As if his hands were speaking to her, coaxing her. She blushed. She felt shy. And then it hit her. Why was he doing it in front of her when he knew she liked him? She loved him. It's fine that he was exercising his independence but why did he need to "show" it to her? Why was he hurting her? Why couldn't he just take his friend to a room? She felt suffocated. Partially by the tease of his hands and partially because of his willingness to touch his friend in front of her. An irresistible urge to kiss him haunted her. They never care do they? Well all that is fine but why did he have to show her this? It was humiliating. She felt her ears burn. And she could not even react! Dammit! She felt suffocated. But only managed to sport a sheepish smile. Like an idiot.

The bell rang. She rushed out of her class. A few steps front and she jumped away from her college. Busily rushing through the streets amidst people, she messaged her friend. Her friend who was there in the class. Who had also seen the whole thing. "What the hell happened back there? You said they were not together?". "I didn't know..", replied the friend. Fighting back tears she got up on bus. Why would he do that? Why why why? He did not love her but he was sensitive, wasn't he? He should have known that she would feel bad. How could he hurt her like this? She would never forget this for the rest of her life. She respected him because of his sensitivity. That was one of the reasons she had loved him. But today, she lost all respect for him.

The Reign of Dark

I am walking through a lonely road. Columns of trees stare like a giant down on me. It is night. The trees are black, dense and their leaves are fluttering, as if conspiring with each other against the wind. I walk alone, a solitary figure among these demons of darkness. Suddenly there is a noise. I look back but see nothing. I keep on walking. But the noise comes again. I stop. I listen intently. Ssshh......The leaves flutter. The leaves whisper. The trees speak. Behind me are hooded figures. They talk softly. They do not notice me. I hear one of them speaking doubtfully, "Tonight another one has to be sacrificed". The voice is heavy, like that of an old man. I suddenly realize that this is one of my elderly neighbors. The others also seem very familiar, I can recognize them, they are all the elderly neighbors of my colony. Suddenly it strikes me. This is not some unknown place in some unknown world. It is one of the streets outside my housing estate. The road is awfully quiet and there are large columns of trees on both sides. It is night and I am in this road. Whaa? How did I get here? My thoughts are interrupted when I suddenly see an old man snatched away by the wind. Only it wasn't a wind. It was a giant branch.. of a tree, that was up in all furor. The old man was not dressed in hood, it seemed as if he had been kidnapped right from his sleep. I could not see his face properly. But I felt a chill of fear down my spine. The hooded figures began to conspire about who to send next. I see the branches of the trees moving. All around me the trees are walking with their roots. They begin to get denser, the foliage grows blacker. The darkness of the night mixes with the darkness of these giants. I feel something tickle me from behind. I look back. It is a branch. I stop dead in my tracks. God, what would happen now? There was no use running, the branch would snatch me away too. The branch begins sensing me with its tip, going up my stomach to my hands. It is soft, almost like a feather. It itches. My skin flinches. And it is exactly at that point that the branch becomes sharp and cuts my hand. Blood begins to trickle. I am desperate. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. But I have to escape. Escape from Death. And it is at this point, with a desperate attempt that I open my eyes...

It is dark outside. Little diamond droplets of rain fall relentlessly. I heave a sigh of relief.

Darkness Revisited

Melancholy passion-eternal longing-that is what Death in Venice reminds me of. It is so dark, so pessimistic, so charming. Melancholy longing leading the protagonist to his death- a journey towards Hell. Giving up? I don't know. All I know is that I love this ennui. I love this dark enchanting space. I love the Unknown beckoning to me. I love the seduction of Darkness. I love the romance, the adventure, the calling of Dark. I guess that is why the pessimism of Baudelaire fascinates me. If you knew how the seduction of Darkness is, you will know what I mean. It is like a drug, it delves deep into your limbs and numbs them with an euphoric, ecstatic feeling. And every time I drown in this feeling, the nerves throb up in a rapture. They are overtaken by the drug. It spreads..slowly...from the extremities to the vitals. The experience....the experience is like bittersweet venom spreading across you, overtaking your body....extending to your soul. Darkness envelops you, you willingly submit to its charm.