Words On Canvas

The wind was cold and bitter. It stung like a thousand pin pricks into a shaman’s doll, but it still felt warm to his frozen soul. He did not let thoughts trouble his mind. But a single thought escaped his vigilance. “I love her, I love my family, I still do….”

The key fitted the lock perfectly. With the decisiveness of a man who had just conquered the world, he walked into his new luxuriant apartment. It always felt new although it was a couple of years old. The sweet smell of sandal wafted through the air to bring a feeling of safety and content to his tired mind. She ran into his arms and looked at him with those big eyes full of joy. Kissing him caressingly on his lips she gently whispered into his ears that she had missed him. She gradually loosened her embrace, but he didn’t feel like letting go and held her tighter. He didn’t want this moment to pass. She responded with a giggle and cuddled up in his arms. After what seemed like eternity she told him that his tea was ready and that she would bring it to him. The smell of her hair on his face as she turned around and walked into the kitchen was intoxicating. The TV was on and the lights were dim. He took the bowl of popcorn placed near the sofa and stretched his sore legs. He felt on top of the world, like an emperor who was back to his beloved after conquering strange lands, taming savage tribes and bringing light onto the hitherto dark world. “Yes it was worth it…”

The fog was all around; the lights from the close by crack houses formed a psychedelic mix of malformed colors playing tricks on his eyes. With steps that were evenly spaced, neither too short nor too long, he headed in the direction of the pier. His gait didn’t show the dreariness or the heavy heart that his feet were carrying. He walked like a man of purpose, with a clear plan and a clear mind. The streetlights threw dark shadows that seemed to cover him in all directions, enveloping him, consuming him. But the sadness that filled him was one that even they could not touch. It ebbed out all other feelings that constitute a man, pleasure, pain, anger, fear, envy, greed - there was just sadness. A rat scurrying across the road made him stop short and laugh to himself” I too was once like that…”

He tore into the piece of dried roti, feeling like a rodent, content after doing it’s scavenging for the day. He sat down on the begrime floor and stared out of the window.

He could see the beautiful people of the city passing by, in their fancy cars, wearing their flashy coolers, women in tight skirts, handsome men with their bulky muscles and streaked hair. Wealth seemed to be the order of the day, designer clothes, hep coffee pubs and the gleaming neons. India was shining right in front of his eyes. But it didn’t disturb him at all. He looked inside the dilapidated room and could barely see the lizard scurrying across the floor in the light of the single bulb flickering above him. The paint peeling off the walls made him think of a mad man clawing into the walls, desperately trying to find his way out. The stench of urine, blended with smoke from the nearby factories and motor vehicles made the air almost un-breathable. His mother, sister and he lived in this 10x10 apartment located in an industrial wasteland that was built during the time of the British.

He worked at a local fish market, delivering the best quality fish to the urban elite of his city. He had to wake up at 3 A.M. in the morning and help the fishermen sort out the night’s catch. This was followed by a painful 10 kilometer walk to the local market with a basket of fish on his head. On his meager pay he could not even afford the cost of public transport, besides he wanted to save every last rupee for his family. Earning barely enough to feed his mother and sister, he would return home everyday, tired, but with a fire in his belly. He wanted this life to end, this life of misery, subservience and shame. He couldn’t bear to watch his mother toil as a maid. His sister’s body was regularly sold to men whom he didn’t even know. They used to make her drink so as to ease the pain and to keep her from panicking. Each night she would return home with a blank expression on her face. She rarely smiled and ate only when told to do so. She would sit staring at the wall for hours, the light in her eyes faded. The best that he could guess was that she was living in her magical world, full of fairies, toys and happy people everywhere, unable to comprehend or withstand the pain of her harsh reality. The poor thing was barely in her teens. The future seemed bleak without any hope or reason to live. But the fire within him grew, day by day, fueled by his pain and suffering till it scorched his very bones. He became the very embodiment of the fire that moves a man, which makes him do the impossible, the unthinkable and the great.

He had reached the pier. The night was clear and the moon shone in its full radiance. He looked up into the sky but saw no stars. They were nothing but lights faded their true radiance unable to penetrate through the depths of space to reach a torn man on the docks. Exhaustion was never his forte, neither was stress. He had always lived as if he had nothing to lose, nothing could be worse than what he had been through, but for the first time he felt tired and worn out. He fell on his knees and thought of God, but God was a being he never much liked. An unkind impersonal entity that looked down with amusement at our little theatre, filled with actors who behaved like automatons, using each other and wanting to be used.

The Temple. When his father was alive they used to visit the temple regularly. In the last few years of his life the old man had suddenly developed a taste for the divine. He used to pray in the temple for hours and hours and sometimes would break into tears, begging for forgiveness. His mother tried to console him but he said that it was of no use. He said that she was just humoring him and that in her heart of hearts, held him in contempt. His court cases and lewd business associations hardly gave him enough time to spend with his children. He died leaving a debt of Rs.2 Crore. “F*** that old man….”

He wanted to question Him but knew that he would hear no answer. His belief in God had died along his old man. He was a man of reason, of purpose and meticulous planning. But his present predicament had caught him off guard. The water below him shimmered in the moonlight. Like a thousand light bulbs lit up by some underwater civilization, they were calling to him, a place of safety and rest. He wanted to reach out to them, feel the full effect of gravity on his body as he fell forward into the deep ocean. But he knew that there would be no coming back. He had never been a coward or a quitter, why be one now? He had wanted the best for everyone, but knew that it did not matter anymore. He looked into the dark horizon and saw an orb of light growing bigger, bigger, bigger. “There’s no looking back now….”

After the death of his sister, his mother had moved in with them. The self proclaimed head of the family sat on the old cane chair, walking stick in hand. She held a tight grip on it as if it was the only thing that could protect her from the monster that stood in front of her. He stood in front of her, the bright afternoon sun on his back, silently, having a polite look on his face that could almost be interpreted as curiosity.” What now....?”

“He’s my son…..but, he’s my son”. She adjusted her huge thick glasses and looked up at him. He stood there, tall and handsome as ever. She remembered the time he had returned home with broken teeth, a black eye and his little sister following him, sobbing lightly. He had single handedly fought of 7 boys who had been bullying her. Her thoughts reached out to how he had lovingly nursed her when she was recovering from cancer. In spite of working all day he would still manage to stay up all night taking care of her. His kindness and compassion towards had always been impeccable and worth all the love and respect she could give him. But the thought of him being like his father, a curse, a hex on all society was one which she could not tolerate. A faint voice inside her was screaming “He’s your son; you can’t do this….he’s your only son….” The decision would HAVE to be made. A great energy surged through her body and she screamed “Get out, get out you wretch, don’t ever set foot in my house again. Your father was a wicked soul who should be rotting in hell, the evil fiend that he was, now you too are like him………………” All the pent up and anger that she felt toward her husband was spat out at him. She could see him in her son, an incarnation of the iniquity that had been in her life. Like the eruption of a sleeping volcano her words spewed out balls of fire that penetrated him deep, so deep that they did not have any meaning there. It hit the source, the very source of his energy, and life. His mind was blank. The world in front of him reeled. The words that he had heard could never be taken back. He stood there for what felt like eternity, and slowly turned around and left. He did not see the tears on his mother’s cheeks but knew that they were there. He was a drugs trafficker.

“Here I am”. The vessel was named after his beloved. The “Yasmine”. She did not know about its existence and he had wanted to surprise her on their anniversary. But it didn’t matter anymore. She hadn’t spoken a word in his defense and had spent the afternoon in the bedroom crying. She said that he was dead to her and that she never wanted to have anything to do with him. His mother had access to the family’s bank account and he was sure that she would aid in finding her another groom if need be. However he didn’t want the name of the boat to change, the name meant nothing to him anymore. Unlimited wealth and an international passport were his. He had friends, powerful friends all over the world who would be glad to help him. Besides it was through him that they made most of their profits, a true businessman and every drug lords dream broker. He could go anywhere, do anything he wanted, live any dream.

The “Yasmine” docked. For one final time he evaluated his position. He had to make changes, drastic changes as he had done once before. Decisions would have to be made. This was not the end; he would just have to come up with a new plan, a new life, and a new reason for living. As he stepped on board, he never said his last goodbye; he just looked up at the stars and thought “Why??”