Φοίνιξ

Φοίνιξ shall rise

Incense

The dim lit room has a door creaking somewhere, hazy figurines dancing to glamorize the dark,the incense so intense, in a sense that completes the humane senses.

The glowing candles march the eye like people on a simulation having no purpose at all.The eyes record intrusion but cannot register what exactly is going on.

The incense bending the neurons to relay its tune. The synaptic ending have no clue to reconfigure to the known sensations. The lips dry and sweat glands slide shut. Water, a longing, nowhere to feed. Hapless-less shrouds the man in bed. He opens his eyes as the only portal to the outside realms of his body.

Yellow feverish light is all that he is treated with. Impatiently shakes his head ina desperation to shake off th gloom that is engulfing him. The snout symbolized by his nostrils flare up an instant more than one. He turns to give his belly some rest.

The overpowering incense hits him harder. He jerks off the thrust to make any sense possible but all plausibilities sucked in the black hole. Some other presence is felt in the room. He catches her figure at a distance , the incense and the candle drawing him closer than he wished. He jerks off quite in another sense to pull over the blanket of reality.

Trance is all he feels right now.

Her sweat is closer than her tight body now. The skin penetrates his feel of touch to realise such smoothness as he never felt before.

Trance is setting the trend now.

He drinks on her sweat now tearing every piece of fabric that came in the way. His thirst mirroring the lonely travels on the desert. Such power as he had never known wants to drive him.

He is one with the incense cuddling him to give him some respite.

He travels long and far. He reaches where no man has ever reached. The alien sound makes his ears go up. He has never heard something like that. For the first time he smuggles her acknowledgement and locks it in the trunks that he has pulled off.

The sound carries him on the bed of incense hazy candlelights. The heat cushions him comfortably. He is not going to rest any further. He tears the deception espousing him.

He wants to penetrate the depths now. His takes his weapon off his sheath and thirsty lips and plunges the depths never before. He launches his attack vigorously. Vivaciously the moaning creeps up to him and whispering wonders which he doesn't understand yet, but nevertheless underestimating such sensory pleasures, he tastes everything offered to him.

Greedily he unwraps whats left, all his senses now adamant, won't budge for anything lesser.

He wanders and wanders till the tastes die.

The candles look at him with carbon nipples, a hundred thousand.

Suddenly the fragrance entering his nostrils is none like he had ever blended. It makes sense. The air is now filled with her and along with the subtlety of the incense and the hint of candle cradle all the foul to the darkest corners of his head.

Is he thinking now??

Is he breathing now??

Does he have only five senses now??

Is he still human??

Its a feeling that has gained weight :)

Heavier than any ordinary mortals maroon day..

He was suddenly in this lonely island with his senses precipitating into the perceptions of pure air , virgin waters and mighty mountains.

He bumps into reality as the sight in front of him is truly beautiful. He sees a form of beauty in flesh, blood and bones. The real beauty lay in the laborious muscles lost in time. A singularity that sucks him out of the islands of peace.

All his senses report to him in tandem.

The symphony strikes him. He sees and hears and tastes it all. Then suddenly the room is in picture. The at one stroke, he loses it all.

Where is he now??

Why cant he sense anything??

Is he lost again?? But this time its different.

All motion stops when he comes back. He can hear his breath now.

Peace.

The candles die a pleasurable death.

Incense fill his senses again.

Jet Airways Cabin Crew..

They are sunflowers in yellow, when you board the flight and turn into pea-cockish as the flight commences. Whao!! There is no place like heaven, when they work their wonders on you. So messmerising. As i set my eyes on them, a new range of pickup lines hit me, 1 2 3 , and they keep hitting me like the shot gut bullet has given way to the deadly pellets. Random and everywhere.

All this while i was in the hay, and hey you make my day, gay!!

I never knew i was on a high until i saw you!

My memory is as volatile as chemistry's equations can be. And so have gone my lines with the cabin crew.

Can i wake up like this every morning.. With you you and you..

Pushing the limits with their hospitality and courtesy and all adjectives that are apt here and out of the dicktionary (perverts permeate) , i jusdt cant stop myself from thinking about them, on and off the flight:)

How can you picture this?? They are like the most exotic plans in the botanical garden(perverts permeate). I can challenge Heaven and strike a deal with the keepers freezing the moments and asking them if they have better offers there.

Speaking about freezing, Time freezes in their presence and let me clarify how it happens, Its like the seconds hand of your biological clock jumps out in excitement and lost wandering hazily out of the clock, lost in her hazy-cozies, dreamy.

I want to say a lot but my eyelids just dont believe in this reality any longer and is waiting to shut down any moment to simply lose myself in the voila , fading memories.......

half remembered dream

blank..you fall asleep.. wat happens after that??

Inception??:)

well the dreams are sometimes elive the moments of the day and the movements of the ppl who made a mark, triggered something in your head, that which you do not fully understand yet.

then is the elaborate dream weaving all these characters and brought to life for an indefinite period on the sub conscious plain.

wat do you remember after waking up?? how much of it can you recollect?

the=ats when the devlish grin takes up a prominent part of your facial expression and i would say it was one hell ova ride......

Smoke..

A drag..

the heat..the burning sensation..

photons...light....

the glow..

Lifes like that ..

Size of it is immaterial...

It burns when the fuel mixes with air...

even otherwise ir keeps burning..

slower r faster depends on emotions happy r sad.

Either ways it burns you out.

Out comes nothing but Smoke!!

Smoke is all that happens..

It spreads and finally vanishes..

All you leave behind is the stench.

Caged!!

A gush of fresh air...

a walk down the street at night..carefree..

looking down the road..birds eye view..

arms outspread from the eyes of Leonardo..

freedom freewill

A farewell.. departure..forced into a cage.

u r abducted from the road.

from ur life..

bound..

addiction does it..

obsession does it.

obscurity continues....

lets introduce a cube of physicality here.

a cell..four walls..

devoid of light..

darkness..

u move .. take few steps..

bump into the physical boundaries..

sit back..think again..

u r stuck in the pond..

u can never conceive the ocean from here..

u long for news..

news of the ones loved n not..

news of the world that u r a part of..

u talk..talk to friends..

friends in ur head..

u create alter egos ..

so as to feel the difference...

u wander n ponder..

thinking that the room does not confine u to a set of coordinates..

deaf..

all u can hear is the voices from inside..

fire..a dragon trapped within u is erupting like a volcano..

hands unbound..u r no vagabond however far u mite travel..

wen u open ur eyes u see wats there to see..

u ve seen a million times..

necessity of change blinded..

the desire unbound..

start meditating..

lets get abducted from this cell..

at the mercy of kidnappers now..

hands bound..eyes mooned.. gagged glory..

u can only smell ur surroundings..

trapped by the greed of those who dont know what they are sinning for..

money..mistakes..monkeys..

they dont let ur imagination unfurl..

clip ur wings..

chip ur winks...

u try to appease them all..

not at peace..

try and bend yourself..

u still suffocate..

i will now abduct u.. place u in a cell of virtuality..

addiction n obsession...

u r free to move..

to think..to breathe..to see..

but u never understand..

cos virtually u r confined into the small cell

where all physicality means nothing to u anymore..

u become senseless physically..

craving..driving..waking n walking..

freshness is all around u..

u ve just lost the feeling.

I am. and Will be..

There is something on ur mind..the truth... u just cant hide it r hide from it... the eventuality of consequences does confuse u . appearances are deceptive.. so is the the appearance of all falsehood and ultimately the truth... all that u can go by is wat u feel to be the right... nothing can jus take it away from u .. only the conscious n subconscious play their part.... but wat is u n out of ur control is the subconscious and it has been shielded, through the ages from the unreal...we just need deeper INSIGHT to get to it..(read into insight ceaselessly than you ever intend to). This simple fact might be the greatest glory of your life and the indictment which i ve been striving for..

Legacy Systems

People are so bent on finding a successor to their legacy, they want to leave behind and leve footprints on history, to call their own. The moral beings are always on the hunt, seeking immortality in all endeavours. One of the most common roles they assume is that of a mentor, looking for the perfect specimen to impart their experience(one who would be a shadow of their presence on this planet). It makes teachers look for the best, friends growing fond of each other, distinguishing employers and so on.It has driven people to pour over their wisdom on uninformed souls, considering their virtues as special, unique and worthy for the future.

Never content with the full stop that death brings in with itself, people look for alternatives. Expectations arise out of nowhere as a test to their own vulnerabilities. The density of dimensionless dogmas damping the very spirit of soul. They can simply go on with their life, making it simpler for others around the by bypassing the legacy systems.

Cascade

One should always understand that he is constant. The Earth moves. The universe expands.Man is a constant. To make things simples, multiple planes pass through us with every passing moment.I once heard from my friend that one can never freeze time. Its like waterin a river, never does one get to feel the same water in a flowing river. It might be similar but can never be the same because it keeps flowing. Everybody will agree with if i draw an analogy to time past here. Likewise time hs to be understood and quantifyig it has one and only purpose, to indicate the flow that is inherent. The big bodies of nature are in motion and the miniature creations symbolised, idolised by us, the humans are constant.

The planes keep passing through. Life is a lot simpler if one keeps to his own path or planes of action rather than getting distracted by anothers' set of parameters. If u freeze time all you can imagine happening is something similar to how animations are brought to life. Pictures painted on cards and someone just flipping it creates ones world.

So people can forget about all else and start painting , to make thier moments of life as colourful as possible.The heaven is passing through us with every passing moment.

Hazy Daisies

As with every weekend and the nights of it, this story doesnt deviate from the any normal circumstances to call it extraordinary.

But as always, theres a heroine in tonights play and she was wearing a white tee. For the lowers, on the record, i dint notice what particularity she was displaying. Her eyebrows were fresh from threading, i can say , as i had noticed , when the room got injected with extra extra photons with her smile , which she was very generous with as against the small sips of beer that entered her system there.

Beauty, i always notice much and rarely miss, i could see she was rare and except one exception that might be , her nose, which the dim lighting made me notice not.

The blaring music thumping on every membrane in the body, as it wasnt exclusive to the ones responsible for hearing sense. Nevertheless it only embodied the the thumping beat amplified and exemplified.

Enough said about the one here but none could have been radiant enough.

I look at her, exchanging glances, that might be due the beer that i was pouring in, my system gone all Hazy Daisies:)

I wished for one thing tonight , an exception though to the wishes i made every other similar nights. I wished she could honour my lunch table tomorrow with endless tales of her story so far, i wished no more, no contact numbers, no names, for i loved listening to stories, and hers would have been special if i had learnt any more , all about her.

The ordinary evening held its head high as i never made any advances towards the proposition i had.

An experience it will remain, as have others taken their due place. I return to my table thinking about destiny and the destined, i wish that god was unfair only a little more, for depts seem to bear no meaning of hollowness in contexts that i ve been tormented every other weekend night.

Anger, i dont feel as i know well this is wat i am and that this is all i can do. But i do wonder what might be the limit of such opportunities knocking my door.

With drags og cigarette, kings 1.1,1.2 and 1.3 , a pause, and with watchful eyes on the door which might open to not my surprise, but surprisings produce her walking out in her full height and outside the moor.

Alas! This never happened.

A few sentences ran my mind at that very moment but weakly recollected in here, moments later, my memory weak n strong never makes me lament and tonight is no different testament.

I see a bright side and thats the last i see because it lasts only minutes thats seems so small in this infinite universe and momentary immortality.

I will search her in the many face that will bombard me the morrow after morrow till her memory fades in the brilliance of another star of the weekend nights to follow.

Writing all this gave me a peace in time lost in oblivion. Alas. no more. Its only Hazy Daisies that am following, conjuring to contain my sanity in sanctuary.

Destruction

its burnin n burnin..

all over n over again..

in n out n outside inside

with arms stretched wide n tearing the fabric around

creating vacuum so large

shards of glass vapourised in the pressure within.

such chaos n disturbance .

travelling in waves..

with spasms of guilt turnin eye bloodshot red..

dread n despair..hand in hand..

the claws ripping virtual shell

screeching and scratching..

blasting shells up to no good..

Words..

i get up in the morning and search for some fags to get myself out of the drowsy proceedings of the night..

Ideas flash like the lighting that i have witnessed over the past few days.

Highly volatile, this is what is left of them..

Words are such beautiful building blocks that facilitate such creations of the mind, that you are awestruck by the simplicity it. You use it to express yourself and exalt yourself to glory. It defies all boundaries of reality and even crossing he barriers in figments of imaginations that you can totally dislodge anything that your senses might pour on the brain.

People unknowingly or knowingly create brands (of themselves), sell, share, and destroy others. Mind is a restless entity which finds peace less often than it is expected to. The very nature of the proceedings around us makes it difficult to settle on something soon. Distractions exist in extraterrestrial quants that disperses quantas of peace in the who;e domain conceived by all our competent senses.

Imagine the world as it is.. the spherical shape and associate it with another sphere, that is the conscience of your mind. Make the association literal as in a symbiotic relationship in bare visual terms. Now lets look at the beauty of this. Someone around you uses words, makes some impact, visualise the sphere absorbing it in shape. The conscience is affected now. Someone pulls it, the sphere deforms. So the deformation is dependent on words and actions . But the very action of individuals is more more pronounced by the use of words rather than action in verb-al terms, emphasisng the pun on the verb. More remotely the words spell out deformations in larger quantas disrupting the package of peace that comes in with the equilibrium of non-deformation.

People market themselves day in and day out without their knowledge. I sit minutes everyday on the facebook and look at the world through it as if it was a sensory organ a very much part of myself. Words define my actions for the day, my waking night hours. I rather communicate to the whole sphere on this medium.

Its thus difficult to break out of this dogma to rest restlessness for the period greater than the flashes of lightning as observed by eyes.

Restlessness reigns.. Words are everywhere, in the books u reads, in the papers u pamper n the magazines u ponder n the communication that u feed upon to understand whats going on and to underestimate the vastness of the physical medium on which u sand , sit and sleep.

This restlessness is on sale these days. Thanks to marketing.

Romantic Manifesto

How costly can a joke be?

How costlier can it get as days pass by, as years go down?

What price can one pay for it?

The joke laughs at me every moment of the day. I haven't got that chance to even laugh at my own creation.

Life goes and doesn't look back

I keep standing there

A place well forgotten.

Others have moved ahead with the spinning planet.

I defied all physics standing there from then on.

I watched the scorching heat, the biting cold, drizzling damsels n blossoming blooms

My feet still

My conscience moved in and out

Ideas changed

Ideals replaced ideas but none too great to wake me up

Sleepwalking, I try to get to the shore

To find it empty of the world that inhabited it.

I collect sea shells

To make a trophy for myself

To remind myself of the life once lost

Throbbing pain, Pungent guilt, Unpronounced Love

So filled the nostrils.

Taking in the smell of my own self and creation

Choked i wriggle to find the next word.

Why does my time stop when i feel happy about it

why do my clocks always reverse when i step forward unconsciously?

Why am i so uncertain of future , drenched in past?

Life doesn't give second chance.

I want life back and i don't want to leave it to chance?

Expectations hamper my chances

Laying on by back, the journey is pricking me.

The search futile and futility unfaithful

Am losing it in between.

how much can i confess?

How much could anything mean anybody?

Rob's Small Moments

Teachings r learnings..

Sipping beer n smoking.. a man lost deep in thoughts..his own..genuine..

A story of everything small..

The first thing that you would notice about this Hollander is his deep blue eyes and his animated expressions when he talks just leaves a mark somewhere, so deep inside you that you start living with it.

Well. It started with finding to seats to rest our backs. And relax we did with few drinks together.

This is someone who has traveled to Goa from Holland by road, for the first time in 1976 in his Land Rover. We had just scrapped 700 kms on bike at this very moment. He always inquired whether we understood him. Whether we could see the world through his eyes.

World we could see through our own when the frequencies syncd up rite from the first sip we took:)

Sipping wisdom together....

How much beauty have you seen in the plactic chairs around you..

Its the most wonderful of inventions , stacked upon one another, being able to stretch a lil, n the kingly feeling it offers has no parallels, you can take it anywhere, u dont have to clean it.

:):)Living life by the moment as there is no future when the moment is gone and once its gone there is no relivin the lost moment..Small things in the air. He dint have 10 mouths to communicate with ten ppl at the same time..wat a regret..small things in the air is sent .we pick it up or not.. those small things are all around us.. like radio waves..wat do u pick up? how much do u interpret..

this guy was not interested in big things.. he took out a small idol of shiva from his pocket and his eyes twinkled upon seeing it. he liked it so much. so small a thing gave him immense pleasure. he kissed it and held it in his hand with such enthusiasm and fulfilment that the moment freezes in your heart.

more light was thrown on love, life, and living.......

the race..

how far are u willing to go..

how much do u wanna compete..

wat do u wanna prove? to whom? to wa end n means?

fame glory recognition

need a FACE among fellowmen..ha ha..

how much will u let the paper define your happiness..

how crazy am i? how much more crazier can u get?

there is a never ending wishlist..wre do u stop?

i see ppl..their eys want more..they never seem contend..they are not happy..

they cant laugh out loud..

i cant talk to the girl of my hearts with open lungs.

y am i suffocating? y cant i breathe in the coolness??

small is bigger than ever..

how much can u differentiate your life?

how less can u integrate ur desire?

wre do u put ur passion?

when can u work n ve the same feeling that u get wen u breathe ir?

wen ll it bcom so natural to u?

can the hottest female in town arouse the deepest pleasures in u?

can the girl u love give u that feelin?? i doubt it..

it comes from within n nobody other than urself can give it life..:)

Shuffle..

Got injected with a new dope of love..

fear factor shaking hands with mercury rising..

a long journey away from home.

a new cell phone..

Avatar Magic..

Nightouts in the office..

20-20 project hours..

Relaxing the spine..

allz not well

New yr celebrations shifted to Xmas..

all the blog entries vanishing in thin air..

bankrupt..heartFull..

glory down the drain..

Pain shot the lid off my head..

Impregnable fortress ramshackled..

Satan Personified..

Control...Ian curtis.

Speeds funny..loony moony..

A poet n a painter drawing swords..

buckle the shoes before going to bed..office calls..

frustration..

divine celebration..

theories out of dog sense..

Few weeks to the climax..A Roller Dollar indeed..

!%-SEP)(_@%_SEP_)(

THE LOST SYMBOL

Dan Brown

action starts after 160 pages..

mystery unfolds a lot earlier..

a promise of national emergency fails to knock u wen it unfolds..

a lil disappointing wen compared to other langdon adventures..

but makes one THINK abt 'the WORD' if u ve been initiated to such thinking earlier.

Shades!

i was on Speeding bike..

highway windin n unfolding before us..

was wearing yellow shades../

n this is wat i unzipped:)

\

The shades had a tint of brownish Yellow.

let me describe the weather before that..

it was kinda rainin now n then..

the pleasant types with melancholy bluish hue interspersed with threating clouds with specks of black

the shades jus changed everythin..

it perceived a warm sunny afternoon..

it took sometime for me to adjust to the reality with the shades on cos wen ii remove them , there is a completely different world in front of me..

i was reminded of my friend who always said that our senses were imperfect..

All i could do here was wonder at the fact that we perceive the world through our senses.

if we dint have the ability to recept certain fragrances, it ratherg becomers so hard for us t6o believe that they really exist, so is the case with all other sensdory receptors.

What is real n unreal.

All that we see is the surrealism posed by our sensory perceptions..

perplexed,i wonder in meandering thoughts which were exploring new domain.

i embark the journey to unearth the truths way beyond me, myself and my percetions.

i pack my bags with new bouts of imagination and all the myriad of thoughts my myriad of species have put in me.

I PUT ON THE SHADES AND WALKED TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HEDGE.

Of resplendence tat has blinded me!

i lie down

with no sleep spendin d nite

mornins down like a drunken dog

stubs of fags leavin traces all over d place

d effect of alcohol wearin off

restless mind wanderin boundaries unknown

disconnected dreams

my fav playlist failin to conjure magik

ve ultimately fallen in da maze i know d way not

i cant say it out load

i still wanna shout my throat off d cliff

i realise..

i accept..

i finaaly enjoy the virtuality

i know not how much has she prepared me for this journey

but am losin it every second

a bad move will make me lose it aall

a gamble tat i wish not to throw away

years n years n years

i know wat draws us closer.

the beacon of light off the distant warehouse

is tat wat they call hope

i feel none frm wre i see the light

butterflies..i see them everywhere..

more often than not

the river encircled in the horshoe bend

not reachin da ocean

the urge to the union so strong

a fury that cant break the horse shoe spell

for da river is poisoned

blood so impure

my goddess is always worthy of worship

i cant clip my wings in sacrifice however great the emotion might be

a test of all tat i stood for

d wax in da candle is givin way to darkness

as its no eternal than my mortal musings on this planet

i bring my hands together to feed myself strength

universes bein created from stardust

dust is all thats left of this creation

d devotion i understand not

at times desperation consumes my soul

blackholes formed frm my actions gainin strength

takin everythin in, sparing nothing to craetion

taers have dried

water water behind the corniac dams

not a single drop to shed

moonlight doppling away in eclipses eternal

the highwayman meets the solitary highland lass

their sorrws communicates by intuition

their illusions of life no more understood

pores of da body brewin sweat as if the whole body is sheddin da saline of the eyes

ambiguity n disorientation take d drivers seat

d heart prisoned by a roller coaster of beats thumping thumping

slowly sadly

dreams of hers to step on

my dreams unfolded in a red carpet

symbolising an ode to her 'future' treads on mine

happy to take the footprints

to cherish those contacts immortalised by time

engulfin d dust left by her feet

somitimes a rebel

to upturn destiny

to figt the chances of rollin dice

i need her as i need oxygen water n freshness in them

so suffocated at times, never understanding wat makes me belive

scary thoughts of obsession interludes my thoughts

possessive like never before

only to dream of

her sailin miles apart

sharing her soul with the prince of her precious mind

Gollum.

i ve bcum..

my precious is all i can cry in private

in da darkness left by the blackholes

i pretend a smile when da sun comes to the fore

am happier than ever disappointed self

is it a curse r a nightmare to pass

i feel like rippin off my shell

to show her the mould inside me

to make her see that she is etched within

a void tat only she can fill

a lifetym on earth tat she can give meanin to

alas am jus a mortal

amoral as she loathed

i slap myself to reality

to only feel the pain

a deliverance which is all the better than the pin prickings

ve swum against the tide all along

let go!!

hungry all the same

till life does the death apart

i breathe her in n breathe myself out

shes magic n shes the rain..

i feel her in every drop healing n healing my vain

my pain

am scared of the ultimate test it mite put me to..

which am sure to fail.

i cant take it no more than i can explain

a brilliance far away

blindin all the same... my love!!

beat the heat

pacin down..9..10..11..01

a perennial stream has jus found its end in the pit of a navel mine.

a buzzing fly ends its tenure in a squat.

eyes flamin dragons' fiery.

matka bears water no more than a trickle to quench the thirst, ends in a virtual gulp.

dark is the nite devoid of partyin leaves, leaves me in yonder wander..

leanin am i, watchin with full concentration to jus satisfy my sense with

a mere least of a wavin leaf, summoning the wind.

alas! my senses titter totterin.

practicin voodoo in vain..releasin the pricks tht prisoned the VAYU in chains.

upto no good.

DIMAG KI BATTI in flickerin mode..

arms wide open, runnin the 11 paces that i had counted earlier, between potential n obvious obstructions, like a big fat ostrich preparing flight.

spreadeagled spree dint yield a dab of air to molest the sweat streamin down:(

it had an effect quite the opposite.

flushed.i sit down.

shooin the mosquitoes off.

its fag tym. to open the doorway to fresh contraptions.

bellows of smoke fill the room, affecting thermodynamics of the room in a rather unpleasant,unintended proportion.

quickly put off the smoke n throw a cough in agitation.

i lie back.

glare at the spinnin engg marver overhead.

cursin .

the damn thing doesn seem to throw any air eventhough its seems perfectly functionin in order.

irritation exponentiates............................................

i hide under my tee, to only come out with a face , sweat free:)

the clock says 2.48..

wann it to show 6 badly..

its bearable n pleasant at tat tym of the day..everyday..

beaten by the heat..

i resign.

CHECKMATE

Gulzaman's son

fragrances driftin in the air..
leavin traces behind..
a momentary lapse of reason , they cud be..
a shot of vodka wud ve justified this better..
deprived of which..
I Give u sumthn thats close to my heart..

Gulzaman's Son
Climbing his tortuous way from Kanzalwan, GuIzaman leaves the river, buckwheat harvests and slopes dark with conifers. His breath comes in a half-choked whistle, the air uncertain whether to burst through the lungs or whoosh out of the mouth.
He doesn't remain with his people now, among the sheepfolds and high-pasture huts. They rag him, 'GuIzaman, where is the son? Can we help?' 'Here comes the randiest ram in the valley!' They're not funny, these jibes at his virility. So each sundown he leaves for the river to sleep in a stone-breaker'spine-hut, till at dawn the sheep call him.
GuIzaman strains up the last hundred feet to reach the fold. Expectant ewes seek shelter from the wind under the lee of limestone walls. He sees his kinsmen, bearded and gaunt and broad-boned as himself, brooding over a dead kid. Rain starts hissing. There has been such heavy sleet the week past that in the sheepfolds new-borns have been dying. With the mothers wind-weakened and fed on wet grass, the lambs are still-born, floppinginert on the earth. Ewes don't even lick them and probe for hidden embers of life with their raking tongues. Broken, they turn on their sides like sacks of crushed ice.
The turf is sodden but his own fold is a small den made snug by bales of hay.His ewe snuggles up to him and bleats recognition, a thin tremolo of love blanketed by gutturals of pain. Relations crowd, darkening the doorway,as with heavily-greased arms GuIzaman examines her. Yes, the lamb is on its way! An hour later it is there, quavery-legged and wet and uncertain about its rickety, four-pronged hold on the earth. Shortly it pees. Allah be praised, now it will live. It cannot die of a chill in the stomach. Either the doorway has been cleared, or cloudshave been parted for an instant by the sun. GuIzaman picks the dun-coloured lamb and holds it to his chest. 'This', he says, 'this is my son.'
BY KEKI N DARUWALA