Long Post. I think you need to give the person you are chatting with online a break and read this one. Oh, if you want to read the first part(which has got a minor relation with this one, then you know where you gotta go)
(Somewhere in Brighton, Pre-Indian Independence)
(Somewhere in Brighton, Pre-Indian Independence)
The 42nd street lay quiet in the moonlit night. The time was 2 A.M. The uniqueness of the street lay in its ability to contrast two different strata of the society from one point. When a man stood there, he could view the Davenport Mansion where the aristocratic guests belonging to the Davenport family were often ushered in and on the opposite side was the fruit and vegetable market situated across the 41st street. At this damned hour of the day, neither of the streets were buzzing with cacophony as they would have been, if it were the daytime. The silence was undisturbed. Until...
Footsteps. Crisp and loud were heard. They neared the 42nd street. A tall and athletic silhouette was drawn up against the moonlight. The silhouette faced the Davenport Mansion. The ground floor of the mansion had its lights turned on. The figure glanced at the mansion one last time and slowly turned towards the street. His walk was composed and determined in every step. He walked along the length of the road and had held a bottle of Wine in his hand which had its cork taken out a mysterious liquid ran down the bottle because of the angle at which the stranger had held it. He then stepped on to the cobblestone pavement and rested his back to a wall. The liquid still flowing down freely. He seemed totally alright with it. The bottle was soon empty, as the stranger gazed into the darker parts of the streets. He then dropped the bottle down. Put his hand inside his waistcoat and drew a shiny box on which were embossed the words "GOLD FLAKES". He opens up a box and pulls out a cigar before he reached for the matchbox. He lights up a match and puts it close to his cigar and puffs two or three times before he puts out the match. He slowly raises his head.
The moonlight hits his, tall dark face. His cheekbones were significant and his nose was pretty straight except for the nose bone which was predominantly huge. His lower jaw, converged into a sharp, wedge like object. His lips were exceptionally pink and thin. But the most attractive part were his eyes. Solid yet beautiful. Artistically curvy but definitely male. A slight amount of light fell on his left eye pupil and it shimmered brightly. He kept smoking the cigar. He looked intense.
The silence befell upon the street once again. Except for the occasional burning of tobacco and heavy breathing, nothing could be heard. The stranger now was lost in some train of thought. A summer's day flashed in front of his mind's eye. A beautiful woman smiling at him. Then a new born baby in her arms. The neck tie was getting too uncomfortable. He removed it and placed it in his pockets. He unbuttoned his waist coat and knelt on one leg and rested his arm on the other. Once again, he got lost in thoughts. He had a sudden urge to grab the woman and to caress the baby in her arms. After a while, the stench of the liquid brought him back to the dark streets of Brighton and the Davenport Mansion. He stood up. He took one deep, long puff of the cigar. He stopped the smoke in his lungs. Then, almost in a surrealistic manner, with perfect precision, tossed the lighted cigar on the liquid. Suddenly, the cobblestone pavement was ablaze. Must have been an inflammable liquid that. Within a moment's gap, the fire spread from the pavement to the street and then it followed a path into the Mansion. At this point of time, the stranger was looking straight at the Mansion. In slow motion, the fire crawled into the Mansion and there was a huge blast. The stranger's eye pupils contracted, but his eyes remained steady and they kept gazing at the Mansion, unaffected. Then he breathed out the smoke he held in his lungs. Moments later, debris started falling on the ground. A foot long piece of wood fell on the street where he was standing. He slowly walked towards the mansion. He smiled and then he turned back. A multitude of footsteps were heard running towards the Mansion. The stranger turned back and walked slowly into the streets. The darkness, absorbed him.
Footsteps. Crisp and loud were heard. They neared the 42nd street. A tall and athletic silhouette was drawn up against the moonlight. The silhouette faced the Davenport Mansion. The ground floor of the mansion had its lights turned on. The figure glanced at the mansion one last time and slowly turned towards the street. His walk was composed and determined in every step. He walked along the length of the road and had held a bottle of Wine in his hand which had its cork taken out a mysterious liquid ran down the bottle because of the angle at which the stranger had held it. He then stepped on to the cobblestone pavement and rested his back to a wall. The liquid still flowing down freely. He seemed totally alright with it. The bottle was soon empty, as the stranger gazed into the darker parts of the streets. He then dropped the bottle down. Put his hand inside his waistcoat and drew a shiny box on which were embossed the words "GOLD FLAKES". He opens up a box and pulls out a cigar before he reached for the matchbox. He lights up a match and puts it close to his cigar and puffs two or three times before he puts out the match. He slowly raises his head.
The moonlight hits his, tall dark face. His cheekbones were significant and his nose was pretty straight except for the nose bone which was predominantly huge. His lower jaw, converged into a sharp, wedge like object. His lips were exceptionally pink and thin. But the most attractive part were his eyes. Solid yet beautiful. Artistically curvy but definitely male. A slight amount of light fell on his left eye pupil and it shimmered brightly. He kept smoking the cigar. He looked intense.
The silence befell upon the street once again. Except for the occasional burning of tobacco and heavy breathing, nothing could be heard. The stranger now was lost in some train of thought. A summer's day flashed in front of his mind's eye. A beautiful woman smiling at him. Then a new born baby in her arms. The neck tie was getting too uncomfortable. He removed it and placed it in his pockets. He unbuttoned his waist coat and knelt on one leg and rested his arm on the other. Once again, he got lost in thoughts. He had a sudden urge to grab the woman and to caress the baby in her arms. After a while, the stench of the liquid brought him back to the dark streets of Brighton and the Davenport Mansion. He stood up. He took one deep, long puff of the cigar. He stopped the smoke in his lungs. Then, almost in a surrealistic manner, with perfect precision, tossed the lighted cigar on the liquid. Suddenly, the cobblestone pavement was ablaze. Must have been an inflammable liquid that. Within a moment's gap, the fire spread from the pavement to the street and then it followed a path into the Mansion. At this point of time, the stranger was looking straight at the Mansion. In slow motion, the fire crawled into the Mansion and there was a huge blast. The stranger's eye pupils contracted, but his eyes remained steady and they kept gazing at the Mansion, unaffected. Then he breathed out the smoke he held in his lungs. Moments later, debris started falling on the ground. A foot long piece of wood fell on the street where he was standing. He slowly walked towards the mansion. He smiled and then he turned back. A multitude of footsteps were heard running towards the Mansion. The stranger turned back and walked slowly into the streets. The darkness, absorbed him.
(Queens, NY, 7 or maybe 8 decades later. Yes, India is Independent now)
"Dood. You remember the artificial neurons I created last week in my research lab? They passed away last night."
"What? But how? They seemed alright when you conceived them. He he he. OK sorry. Maybe its the Jews."
"What? But how? They seemed alright when you conceived them. He he he. OK sorry. Maybe its the Jews."
"Shut up 'Jiggle-o-doodle-dick', the stray currents that circulated in the incubation box might have formed a minor electromagnetic field which might've come in contact with the neuron's EMF and eventually damaged them. But that is just a case."
"What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know JODD. I should've used a non-ferrous material for the inner coatings. Damn! The prof is going to cancel my fee waiver or RA now."
"Fuck that's bad."
"Yeah."
"Its time for a Bud."
"You bet."
The two teens went into "the Urban Manor", there favorite hangout in all of Queens. Jodd was drooling over a single girl at the bar while the other guy was searching for someone anxiously. House music was playing loud.
"Hey genius, check out the girl with the healthy lungs across the hall.", screamed Jodd.
"Will you keep your voice down Jodd head, my girl is gonna be here any moment now."
"Relax hero. She won't be here for another.."
Just then, a girl arrives. "Hey baby! I was searching for you from 10min. Heard Jodd's voice and found you."
"Hey!", exclaims the guy.
"Hey babe.", says Jodd.
"Manners Jodd."
"Yeah right. Anyway, I'm gonna go fishing now, the lady over there just smiled at me."
"Fishing?"
"Forget it. You lot never grow up."
"Get lost JodDICK."
Jodd was off. While the guy and the girl were, err.. what can I say? Puckering their lips? Perhaps. The guy's cell phone then rings. The display reads "Mom-India". He shows his girlfriend the display of his cell phone and puts a finger on his mouth indicating her to stop talking and both of them walk out of the bar, holding hands. After they are out, he picks up the call.
"Ma! 'Sup? Yeah. I'm ok. Me? I'm in the campus, with some of my friends working on the science project. Yeah will call up when I'm done. Bye."
"Science project", said the girl.
"Yeah. I was noting down the amount of calories being burnt while we were making out."
"Geek-o. Where is your bike?", asks the girl while she is adjusting her hair.
"Its in the garage. Making a few changes to the base engine. So what say? A ride to San Diego next week?"
"No bey. I need to go to India. Granny is unwell."
"Awwwwwe. C'mon!"
"Seriously? What you are feeling bad now? Remember last week? You were supposed to take me to Vegas and you said you were conceiving micro-electro-biological babies ??"
"I actually was making something. Ok listen. I don't want to start all over again. When are you returning from India?"
"I actually was making something. Ok listen. I don't want to start all over again. When are you returning from India?"
"Indefinite."
"Fine"
"FINE!!"
They turn their backs to each other. They were burning with anger. 10 seconds pass. Then they turn back and start making out against a lamp post. After sometime, the guy gets another call.
His eye pupil's contract. Suddenly, his love-fed face becomes intense. He answers the call.
"Yeah.", his voice heavy and his eyes sharp.
A long silence. The girl keeps staring at the guy. The guy hangs up without another word. He catches the girl's hand and says,"C'mon baby. We need to rush".
"What happened? Where was the call from??"
"The Davenport Mansion."
Both of them start running. Darkness absorbs them.
4 comments:
lol lol.. awesome.. stranger than fiction i should say.. you lettin your horses run wild dood..the atmosphere you described in the pre independance era can be found in Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde... awesome post. turning a sex pervert lol.. is there a sequel post? ill be waiting.. hope there are dozens of micro elemental carbon ozonized nuclear missles in it..
back to form macha! par apna dhoti kidhar hai?? and who's the davenport arsonist? and how does the pre-post independence thing figure in?? and who's the girl?? so many questions, only one khooni tony to answer them..bahut nainsaafi hai...
classic piece of writing. awesome script.
waiting for the next episode....
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