Oct 31, 2011
Part 9 Tomorrow!!
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 23, 2011
The horseman entered the city from the one of the broken roads in the north. His horse neighed and bucked with every step and the horseman tried hard to control the horse. He got to flat part of the road and got down from the horse.
"Now now, where are you hiding big man..." he said to no one at all.
The watch in his pocket pulsed once and he took it out. There was a small light blinking at 11 on his watch. He took a step in that direction and the light blinked harder. He tied his horse to a building's door and started walking in the direction where his watch was pointing him.
He came up to another broken down structure and kicked the door in. The smell inside the building assaulted him like something physical and he was forced to take a step back. He blinked tears out of his eyes and shielded his nose against the stench.
"Always the shitty jobs for me." he grumbled.
There were other doors inside the building and he went through them, descending into the gloom of the building, guided only by his watch's light that grew stronger with every step. There was an equal green glow coming from somewhere further in the darkness and he headed towards it.
The source of the glow was a big box that was placed on an altar. There was a small circular indention in the box which looked the perfect size of his watch.
"Oh well, here goes nothing."
He looped off the chain of the watch from his left arm and placed the watch in the recess.
Nothing happened for a while.
The man tapped his foot, waiting for something to happen.
Then the watch slowly started to turn clockwise. It turned a full revolution and stopped. The lid of the big box shifted slightly and more green light spilled out. A hand, scarred and old, with broken nails and chewed off fingers, curled out of the green-lit coffin.
"The heart beats."
The voice that came from the coffin was as ancient as the first of the voices, aged by it's time alone in
the box with nothing but the sound of breathing for company. It was the voice of someone who had almost forgotten how to speak.
The man with the watch wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The hair on his neck stood up with the static electricity in the air.
The hand on the edge of the box strained itself and as the face rose up from the box, the watch man fainted. The last sliver of his consciousness didn't want him to ever wake up again.
The figure in the box fell out with a wet slap on the floor and broke the neck of the prone watch man on the floor. It stuck its fingers inside the bloodied neck and began to feed. It needed energy, for the way to get back his heart was going to take some time.
Oct 17, 2011
Nife was packing more knives in his belt and on his person. There was a knife for carving and a knife for slashing and there was a knife for picking pieces of soul of the people he had killed. His teacher had always told him to carry as many knives as he needed and none that he would not. The last knife that he slipped in a sheath made inside the skin of his own right, had no name. It was a black piece of iron that demanded only one thing. Blood.
The dark man who had hired Nife's services for retrieval of the jar sat in his room under a busy street and threw dice on the floor. He counted all the number and the number of times he had thrown. He calculated everything to align with the stars and predicted futures that could have been. He counted 977 futures in which he would have the possession of the heart in that jar.
The old man's body in the small shop slowly rotted and flies started to lay eggs in his empty eyes. No one walked through the door of the small shop.
The heart in the jar now pulsed with a red glow like a homing beacon.
Calling out to its owner.
After a century of silence.
Oct 14, 2011
Nife was slitting the throat of hooker in an alley behind the Mad Monkey Bar when he got a job offer.
"Heard you're a heart specialist." a voice asked from the darkness farther up the alley.
Nife wiped his knife on the hooker's shoulder and nodded.
"We need to recover a heart in a jar."
Nife raised his clean hand and rubbed his index finger on his thumb.
The owner of the voice tossed him a small bag that stank of gold.
"It's in a shop. You better hurry."
And that's how Nife accepted a job that would leave him dead.
Oct 12, 2011
Her cave was small and the darkness was only chased by the small fire that burned in the hearth. There was no warmth in the fire, it only intensified the chill in the air.
"The heart beats."
A crooked smile spread on the nailwidow's face and her hollowed eyes sucked in the light of the fire.
"The heart beats."
Her laughter filled the dark cave.
In the small shop of curiosities in an unnamed city, the heart continued to beat, unaware that the game for its possession had just begun.
Oct 11, 2011
Inside the shop the old man who owned the shop was lying on the floor and having a heart attack.
He clutched his chest and breathed deep breaths, knowing that any breath could be his last. With a superhuman effort that betrayed his dying state, he pulled up to his counter and pressed a lever under the table. The wood on the floor under the counter slid back, and a jar emerged. It was filled with cloudy yellow liquid and something floated inside the jar.
The old man tried to push the jar to the ground when another spasm from his heart sent him flopping away from the jar. His spine arched like a bow and he thrashed on the floor like a fish out of water and in the frying pan. Smoke started to bubble from his ears and his eyes popped back in their sockets like flaccid balloons. His tongue darted from his mouth like a black snake and his hands clutched at his throat till he couldn't breathe any more.
His body relaxed and the smell of shit filled the air.
Inside the jar, a floating heart started to beat.
More tomorrow, this is part one.
Oct 10, 2011
It was an animal sound of anguish and pain. Janis stopped for a beat as the echoes of the scream died away in her mind. It came from somewhere behind her, from one of the warehouses. Maybe someone was in trouble.
But I've got enough troubles of my own.
She looked ahead at the setting sun and kept on walking. She saw the corner of her house by the next turn. There was a girl standing there. Her clothes were torn and blood was pooling at her feet.
Janis walked faster towards the girl but she didn't get nearer. Janis kept walking but her house was at the same distance as it had been a step ago. She broke into a jog, but she was running in the same spot.
The girl with blood at her feet looked straight at Janis, a thought exploded in her head.
Should've helped me.
Then it was Janis' turn to scream.
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 5, 2011
It was 8.30 in the morning and I was barely awake when the phone rang. My sister’s number was on the screen.
“Morning.” I croaked into the phone.
“Bhai, I just got a one hour lecture from papa.” She said.
“What happened now?”
“He was angry that you don’t wear good clothes.”
“This time when you visited, you were wearing a dirty shirt and jeans with the type of shoes that he hates.”
“I wear such clothes to piss him off.” This is not what I said.
“I changed three buses to get home. There was dust and dirt in those buses, the clothes I wore from home were clean, but they got dirty in the journey.” I made the excuse.
“Yeah, but he won’t hear none of it.”
“Alright, I’ll wear good clothes from now on.”
“And he was also complaining about the four previous visits home when you wore shitty clothes.”
“Take me shopping when we meet next. You know I can’t shop clothes for myself. I end up picking all blue or grey t-shirts.”
“Yeah, we must go shopping when we meet next.”
“And tell dad that he is going to sponsor all the shopping. I am not paying a rupee for my clothes from my pay.”
“I’ll tell him,” she said.
We said bye and cut the call. I got up from my bed and looked for clothes to wear to office. First, I ironed a t-shirt, then I picked a shirt that had been hanging behind a door for quite some time and pressed that.
Then I thought about buying a tie. And black shoes.
Oct 4, 2011
The coconuts contained memories.
They were only shells now but these shells held magic that would make grown men weep like newborn babies. Lovers torn apart by life and circumstances visited the shrine of coconuts, touched the empty shells, shared the memories of thousands who had touched the shells before them, and they cried.
Such is the magic of the wicked poison called love.
Oct 3, 2011
The old man tried his best to lock his memories behind the door. Most of the days, he failed. Then there were days when the memories were tired and lethargic, so they stayed put. On rainy days, his memories jumped up and bit his elbows like hungry puppies.
He leaned hard on the door of his mind to keep the memories in, but he was an old man and he didn't weigh that much.
On his birthday, he cried alone and wished for death. The forever sleep.
He had not slept properly since the day he had killed his family, his dogs and everyone in the neighborhood. Now, their corpses heaved and pushed from the ground and no matter how much he cried or tried, his sins leaked through.