One Night

Moving quickly, he slammed his fist into her face. Blood splattered everywhere, on both of them.

Sometimes she felt so full of emotion, she could feel it brim at her very edge, it’s colossal weight nearly buckling her knees.  Defiance would pounce forth shielding her, taunting  innocent passersby, provoking them in hope that they may react, and unleash the accumulated resentment tugging at her heart.

Rationality was a foreign word as her burning eyes whipped their damp lashes against her flushed cheeks. She anticipated the rage to accelerate, hard and fast- a catalyst to a potential tantrum; but it sat spineless, fizzling out, almost cold, as she desperately waited for something to happen. 

Nothing happened. The anger began to dissipate, now focusing on a calm, eerie, wave of misery. It washed right through her, chipping little pieces of her raw heart in the ebb and flow of its high tide. She ached. She felt lost. Panic made her chest thump and quake at every thought that pranced through her fleeting mind.She had stopped crying long ago. There was no one to hear her, and even given the remote possibility that there had been, she had run out of tears a long time ago.

She stiffened and shuddered at the pain which seemed to grip her whole body. She tried to  focus, but it was as if she was wandering through a dark tunnel with no way out. There was no light in this gloomy pit where answers seemed nonexistent. Soaked in pools of her own despair, she rubbed her face against the gritty wall, and the shock of pain as she hoped, made her stop frightening her self  for a split second. She had always believed, that the reality of pain wasn’t as bad as the morbid fear of it.

She stopped for a moment, and breathed in the cold air which stabbed her sharp in her heaving lungs.  A prisoner in the vast valleys of her loneliness, she was tired of  travelling in circles through mental labyrinths. She had lost all confidence,and convinced herself into believing that her cutting wounds were gaping crevices. Consumed by pure agony, her body had now contracted itself into a giant ball of concentrated grief. Barely conscious, her voice broke into a high pitch as a sob caught in her throat. 

Swallowing a whimper, she stumbled a couple steps forward, her brain racing with possibilities. He punched her again, looking down at her broken face with his black eyes.  Tears blurred her vision, stinging hard, as her toes curled in fury, and her pale fingers tightened into fists. She could taste something metal mingle with the saliva that travelled down her throbbing throat. Trying not to choke on her own blood swarming around in her mouth, she burrowed deeper, gathering the ripped material that hung off her battered hips.

He closed the door behind him, a wicked smile slowly creeping onto his coarse face. Instinctively she crossed her arms over her chest, but her eyes were now looking down. She felt too terrified to think, and too desperate to calm her self down. Her shaking arms dropped dead to their sides, as her feet rushed back in little, fumbled steps. He was much larger than her, but that did not matter now. Still smiling, his face now appeared frozen and humourless as he moved closer. She was petrified, but refused to panic.

He grabbed her hair as she reached out for the latch. With a loud crash, her head met the floor, streaking it crimson. Dazed and in a stupor, she felt his mouth pressed hard against her ear, as he kneeled over her, pressing all his weight against her. Rough hands cruelly prodded her like meat, poking, grasping, and punishing. With one hand around her neck, he effortlessly turned her limp body towards him, to stop her from slumping to the floor. She used her hands to push his shoulders, trying to shove him off, but he just thrust forward, killing her fight, right at the bud.

Her mouth was dry as cotton, and  her tongue felt as if it were swollen. She begged her body to relax, laying as still as possible while warm tears silently slid from beneath her swollen lids. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t smell- she had slammed her mind’s door shut on the depraved images that kept flashing in front of her. She focused on listening to her breathing, in and out, trying to thwart the hysteria that fogged her brain. She needed to stop feeling, turn off the pain, and anesthetize.

He panted like an animal into her face, as she screwed her eyes tight, shut, trying to block reality out.  She took another breath, slow and steady, wanting it all to stop, and everything to just blackout. She ignored the twinges of pain that clawed her gut, and the fading screams that racked her tiny frame. She opened her eyes slowly to see the moon shining abnormally large in the sky, as it crept over the horizon, peeking into a cloudy window. “Soon” she whispered to herself, “It will soon be over”.

Her Tears

  When she was just a wee little girl she had so many dreams, so many plans, so much of everything in that big head of hers. Now she is older, taller, and probably wiser, and her fantastic imagination has grown up with her. She had always wanted to dance in sapphire,mustard fields, with delicate fairies, and discover lonesome mermaids on jagged rocks amongst countless other things; but now she had downsized her great list- she only wanted to be happy.

  All she ever wanted was to be happy. She would smile in the mirror everyday, practicing how to laugh, and flash her pearly whites, as her face pulled muscles from many different angles. But her cheeks never heaved in rosy mounds, her eye brows never dipped with genuine pleasure, and  her  eyes never creased with unadulterated laughter. She smiled not by sensation, but by practice.

 Her heart felt heavy, lonely, and was suddenly yearning. Her emotions dangled fragilely  beneath her welling eyes, which occasionally got lost, staring widely into foggy space. She felt raw, almost naked in front of her own reflection. A stranger gazed back at her, ashen, gently melting away, dripping ivory onto the tiled floor. She was a sad girl cloaked in an empty shell of what once was.

When panic would creep in and begin to bite her brain, she would shut her mind- down completely.  All the anguish would disappear. And for the first time she would feel nothing,only a distinctive hollowness. It was a narcotic, her drug, and she knew she was starved for oxygen as she would welcome the deep slumber that followed. 

 With a mighty noise the walls would come crashing down, and the room would be filled with giddy sparks. She would wake up, lying flat on her back, hysterical tears drowning her contorted face. Her eyes automatically snapped shut- an instinctive reaction to escape the throbbing torture harvesting her chest. Consciousness had hurled a roaring avalanche at her, as her memory  would come back, gushing, and cutting.

“Oh, God! Oh God!” she would cry, now on her knees, covering her ears with her fists, rocking back and forth, moaning and sobbing.  Tears pushed and shoved forth her eyes, painting her pale cheeks with stained streaks of sorrow. She was sinking, she felt herself cracking. She was so sad , she did not know what to do. “Oh God!” she would whisper,

 “I can’t make it stop! My heart is breaking, and I don’t know why.....”.

SHE

She talked the talk like you could never imagine. Visiting exotic corners of the world, acting in artsy theaters, shooting professional portfolios…you name it, and she dreamt it. The nitty-gritty details such as the sounds, smells, and colours morphed to her ever changing moods, but she always finished her visions with the tumultuous sound of a standing ovation.

Morning Blues

“I’m scared this is it,” she sighed to me, one sunny morning.

“What is what?” I frowned, trying to make light of her sudden need to confess amidst our ginger-chai ritual.

“Ufff - forget it!” she growled, clenching her white fists, obviously irritated at my lack of concentration (seemingly not too shy of punching it right back into me).

“Anger management professional,” I teased, as she pulled and twisted her amber curls around her shapely fingers.

“Shut up!” she barked, a little too quickly in retort, distorting her voice to an almost shriek-like pitch. 

A gurgle of mirth burst forth from her sullen face as she desperately tried to swallow it back, as if to prove a point to me by remaining miserable. But her intrinsic love for laughter burst through, drowning her sulking performance in peals of infectious, happy noise.

Feisty Times

We liked to think we never fought. But the one time we did, it took the form of a somewhat awkward, alien situation where neither of us knew how to react- more terrible then impromptu actors with a poor script.

“Don’t walk away from me… stop and come back…JUST COME BACK!” she frothed, zapping me with sizzling beams shooting from her dark hazel eyes. 

Who the heck would run after me a whole kilometer, to say that, after I’d dramatically stormed from the scene? I was taken by surprise, and became a tad confused on how to react in the current high pressure situation. So I just stared back into those burning eyes that stared right back at me.

We stood there like that for a few minutes, and then got bored of being mad. Crinkles of amusement crept onto our stony faces, speedily escalating into snorts of hysterical amusement. 

“Let’s get an ice- cream,” she chuckled wiping a tear from her eye. 

And that’s what we did, swinging our arms, hand in hand, recalling our first fight with each other, as if we had never been present when it actually happened.

Broken Hearts

“I’m running away with him,” she announced wearily on the phone one night. “It’s the only way…my parents hate him.”

“No. No. No. No you can’t,” was all I could retort given the sudden nature of the announcement.

“But I love him!” she snapped back hurriedly,  annoyed at my unsupportive reaction.
“Anyway you don’t understand these things,” she spat in my ear, causing a static pop through the telephone line.

“Hello, helloooooo, you still there?” she asked taking a breath from her defensive rant.

“Yeah,” I grumbled, wanting to have something wiser to say, just about right now.

“I love him….” she trailed wearily through what sounded identical to a broken sob.

“No you don’t,” I said evenly, into the now weeping receiver.

What happened next was a blur. But what was important was that I was right. It wasn't love. And she did not run anywhere, with anyone- thank God!

Unspoken Words

“She is so happy you’re going to be there with her. I’m so glad you’re here for her,” her mother gushed, hugging me tight like she always did when I arrived back home.

The next morning I went to see her. She was huge, and her eyes looked like those of a giant panda.

“Hey,” she said smiling, leaning forward to grab me tight.

We stood like that for a split moment, and then she was back.

“I mean you don’t have to be there if you’re scared you know,” she mumbled, raising her swollen calves onto the wooden stool.

“Of course I’ll be there,” I replied, rolling my eyes at her eight month pregnant, all pervasive belly.

This was probably the millionth time we were having this same conversation.

“I’m just saying you know….no pressure…I really don’t mind,"she went on, squinting into the sun, as I massaged her swollen limbs.

“Just relax,” I said patting her head in desperate need to change the subject.
I was terrible at this emotional/consoling business, but it worked for us, since she was too.

Re-Birth 

“Push! Push! Push!” were the only words directed towards her as she lay in a pool of her own perspiration.

“It’s okay,” I said squeezing her hand (the way the midwife told me to). “Just breathe.” 

I had no clue what I was saying or doing, but it didn't matter as long I played my part to perfection.

“Write down all of her contractions, and when they occur. We need the time and length of each one,” a voice yelled at me. 

“Sure. Yes. I’m on it,” I said, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper before rushing back to her side.

She was outside on the balcony, taking a break from her false labour. 

“Babies eh?” she smiled weakly, as I approached.
“Yes babies!” I grinned reaching out for the other chair.

“They better be cute,” she frowned rubbing her belly with intense concentration.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I’ll still pretend they are.”

“I’m serious,” she giggled, flashing me her pearly whites.
“Me too,” I replied in mock horror, grabbing her hand to help pull up her massive weight.

“Thank you,” she groaned, now on her feet.
 “Thank you,” she confided into the shadows, her voice catching a little.

To my relief the sun had set a long time ago, so she could not see my face, nor I hers… or that’s at least how I tell this story.

Cupidity

She giggled into her glass, brushing away the strand of hair that fell over her right eye. Her drink was over, and the ice clinked nosily as she walked towards the booming speakers. She turned the dark knob up on the stereo,swaying her hips in rhythm to the blasting music, singing loudly, but slightly off tune to her favourite song. “Turn it a bit down!” someone said, so she did, smiling all the time, and moving to every beat.

The ice had almost melted, and she frowned at her empty cup. “ More!” she yelled, raising it up in the air, pushing her way through the room of warm, busy bodies. Someone grabbed her hand, and an arm magically held her waist, swirling her to a rhythm that she immediately recognized.  She forgot her wanting drink, and raised her arms in the air, shimmying to a drum solo that just about started.Her eyes shone bright, as she licked off  the  lip-gloss from her smiling lips, then wiping away the plastered hair, from her glistening face. The music faded out for a minute, right before the next track started. “I’ll be back” she said to her new friends on their make-shift dance floor, reaching out to open the closed door.

A gust of laughter hit her face, as she waved and greeted alternate faces in the tight crowd. A hazy smoke drifted lazily in the air, as more glowing wands lit up the room. "A light please?" she asked, leaning forward towards him, her arched eyebrows quizzical, and her red lips pursed tight. "Your wish is my command, my lady " he said, lighting her up, as she brushed aside a few stray locks. She inhaled deeply, holding her breath for a few seconds before letting it out with a soft sigh. She felt good, as if she were walking on air, her head almost giddy from the sudden rush. She squeezed her eyes shut, licking her lips, before opening them wide to him see him blatantly studying her. She held his raw gaze for a minute, as his amber eyes burned right into her, intense and naked with desire. Flustered and slightly embarrassed, she looked away, trying to find someone, or something else to occupy her now blushing attention. 

“Another?” he asked, breaking her away from her desperate attempt towards distraction. She stared blankly, trying to string sense into what was being asked. “Huh?” she grunted instinctively, forcing him to flash a set of shiny pearls. “Another drink?” he smirked pointing at her lonesome glass, which now lay sadly by her bare feet. “Oh yes!” she said, a little too high pitched, hugging her arms, and then stretching them high,fingers pointing to the ceiling. His laugh trembled baritone, vibrating through the thick air, as he took a long stride  towards her. She stood still,crashing into his hard chest, breathing in his musky smell. She looked up slowly, her chocolate eyes rotating clockwise, almost as if procrastinating the inevitable. Their eyes met. He dropped his hands to his belt, making his muscles ripple a smooth stony sweep across his chest- "like granite"- she thought, letting her gaze trickle down, over his tanned skin, solid shoulders and shapely biceps, up to his chiseled jawline and mane of chestnut hair. His eyebrows were chestnut too, and one was raised in silent question.

She licked her lips, and felt a hungry grin spread across her flushed face. Her heels were long forgotten, kicked off  in the other room, so she hooked her arm around his strong neck, letting her full weight press against him,as she tip-toed to touch his lips, pressing further into him as she did so. He stood still, unresponsive, wearing her like a beautiful coat across his chiseled front.  Heaving a sigh of disappointment, she stepped back, his lack of participation dampening her mood. Gliding herself off him,she stood still, head dipping low, as she tied her raven hair away from her pale face. A hint of a smile touched his golden eyes, as he gently pushed her back against the kitchen wall, slipping his hand behind, to the small of her back, dragging her towards him like an irrevocable force of gravity. His teeth suddenly caught her lower lip, tugging on it gently, and she curved her back in instant response. He nibbled on her lips, now stroking her back, kissing away the confusion that clouded her mind. A bronzed  arm snaked around her waist, jerking her closer, while the other rubbed up her back, loosening her hair pins, one by one, freeing her curls to shower down upon them.

Swallys Beach Shack: Baga Beach Goa

It was noon when we arrived, and immediately we lay splayed flat under thatched umbrellas in front of what would become our favourite Beach Shack: Swallys, in Khobravaddo (behind Villa Goesa – a Baga Beach resort). This Baga Beach shack, though just a hut with red plastic tables, was perfect. We sat back, played footsie with the sea, and flipped through an endless menu that offered almost every cuisine under the sun. I ordered fresh-squeezed pineapple juice and Kim, my partner in crime, chose tandoori paneer (marinated cheese baked in a clay oven), which Biltoo, our server, recommended. It was cheese heaven! After filling our bellies (a little more than necessary), we headed to Swally’s private beach, settled into lounge chairs, and began soaking up the sun.

Read more at http://sambawalker.com/places/baga-beach-goa

Raintree Cafe & Boutique: Windsor Manor Bangalore

India is great. Over a billion people, and 28 states, yet Karnataka is one of my favourites...which brings me to its capital - Bangalore. Unlike other bustling metros, an exclusive calm prevails over everything else in the city. Don’t get me wrong, honking yellow autos, determined scruffy beggars, and random floating garbage are still prominent features of the scene. However within all this chaos, shiny buildings and busybodies, there’s an unidentifiable romanticism that fills the air. I visited one place, called Rain Tree Cafe, that proved my escapist theories of this green and flowering city to be more than a mere fantasy.

Keep reading more at http://sambawalker.com/places/rain-tree-cafe-bangalore

Mayapur Eco Foods: A slice of Italy in Mayapur India

The coal glowed red as I stared into the tunnel of flames dancing in front of me. I wasn’t contemplating life & death but impatiently waiting for my loaf of organic, wood-oven bread! The smell lingered despite the strong breeze, teasing my already smitten senses with wafts of freshly baked goodness. I cut a slice of steaming-hot bread, smothered it with slabs of fresh mozzarella, and let the dark sapphire olive oil dribble down my chin. 

Continue reading at http://sambawalker.com/places/mayapur-eco-foods