Friday, July 26, 2013

Vish Kanya

The paalki came to a halt . Tarini parted the curtains and peeped outside . They were almost at the entrance of the camp . She could see the torch flames flickering . Maybe , 20 or 25 tiny little tents ,fluttering in the wind .

It was not a typical army camp . The vaastu was inauspicious to begin with ( and they were soon going to realize how very inauspicious it was going to be ) .
The barricades were too fragile , almost a formality .  And the number of guards at the entry ( and the few lookout posts they had passed ) , were sparse and too relaxed .

She turned her head to the other side . Behind her , five other paalkis had come to a halt . She could see the silhouettes of her sisters in each of them . The night was silent , almost eerily quiet . Warm dusty wind blew against her face . 
It was the kind of silence that gave you goosebumps . The silence that preceded the storm .

And , the moon ! The bright full moon hanging in the sky . Full moon nights made her uneasy . She put her head inside the palki again , and closed her eyes  . Such vividly painful memories they were .
                                                            

                                                                       *         *            *        *
It was a full moon night ,in that tiny hamlet on Uttarapatha . Bharini was barely six years of age . Her eyes dilated with fear ,and tears welled up in them. 
She looked back at the fading images of her parents ,standing at the boundary of their tiny hut . Their eyes brimming with tears , yet their chests so full of pride .


Little Bharini didn't understand it then . Tarini knew better , it wasn't everyday that the prime minister Chanakya came over and asked for your daughter .
 And when he did , you gave her in  . With the sacrifice , came the immense honour of being the father of a Mauryan soldier .

And from there ,the journey had begun. In an enclosed ashram , two days away from Takshila .. Bharini died . In her place , Tarini was born . 
The childhood memories were blurred  .They were a mixture of body aches , blinding head aches ,dehydration , vomiting ,stomach cramps ,unconsciousness and struggles for breath . 

She was not alone . There were many other girls around ,suffering the same fate . 
They were taken care of , bathed , dressed and fed every day . With the food came a small portion of that vile potion . Then they retched , and broke in sweats ,some actually cried aloud and begged for death .
The lucky ones , were indeed embraced by Yama himself .

By the time she was ten , Tarini knew she was the unlucky one . She , and a couple of others ,survived the ordeals .
Their bodies had finally grown accustomed to the daily doses of posion .
Every day they drank , venom extracted from cobras , kraits , scorpions , mysterious sea fishes ,toads spiders and plants .

Chanakya had them imported from unknown corners of the world . Exotic snakes , monstrous spiders , multi hued toads and crushed plants . Each of these were tested and mixed by scientists and vaidyas ,sworn to secrecy .
And they brewed new concoctions everyday . Concoctions that she and her friends gulped down , each morning . 



And if they thought that their struggles had ended . They couldn't have been more mistaken .
 From the time she was ten , Tarini could not remember being free . The day started with 'Astra vidya' .Swords , daggers , whips , arrows ,spears and martial arts . Each one of the maidens as drilled till they could barely stand.
From famed army generals , to Egyptian assassins ,with no shortage of trainers . They ducked , sprang , stabbed and shielded . Bruises and welts were a part of existence back then .

From time to time , Chanakya would come and watch . And bring newer opponents every time . Watch them struggle ,get beaten and ( after a long time ) crush each of his fighters . 

The evenings were a trial in themselves . From natya to sangeet to kaamvidya , they were instructed by the finest in each field . They danced till their feel bled . The sword wielding muscles forming those delicate mudras .
The throats that echoed with battle cries , would strain to catch a particular elaborate raaga . The practised the postions of pleasure , read vedas and recited mantras late into the night .

By the time Tarini was eighteen , she was unrecognizable .Her long eyelashes , large soft eyes , full lips and a delicate looking nose had emerged victorious from the clutches of puberty . The slim waist , vessel like hips and heavy bosom added to the charm .

Oh , and she breathed poison . Poion that blended with her very blood and fluids . It pulsed within her , growing stronger with every cup she drank . 
One scratch of those nails ,was enough to make a man stop dead in his tracks . Literally . One swipe of he tongue on the lips , and he would be struggling for breath . And a full blown kiss on the lips , would be the death sentence.

And finally , the evening before , Chanakya had summoned her and her sisters . Finally , laid out ....

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The paalki started moving , pulling her back to reality . The moon shone brightly through the silk veils . She could see the soldiers trying to catch a glimpse of the damsels inside .
What they didn't know was that , there sat vicious monsters behind those veils

TO BE CONTINUED .....

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Stipper no.21



Anita parted the curtains with her hands . The dull multicoloured lights flashing on the stage , Prince's 'She's always in my hair' was playing softly over the speakers .

She took a deep breath ,and walked forward . Hair let loose around the shoulders , a lock of hair placed seductively over the right eye .
Red pumps ,a short glittering dress barely covering her thighs . Custom made , so that it could be pulled off with a swipe of her hand . The number 21 dangling from the side of the Lycra thong underneath .

Anita had no illusions about how she looked . She had no illusions about most things in life . Short , barely 5'5" , full lips , heavily lidded eyes , a mole of her  cheek .
Ass size ,38 and breast size , 34 . Add a chiseled abdomen to that , and she knew why she was so popular in here .

She strutted seductively across the floor ,halting at the very edge . Turned a full 360 , to give them a once 'look over' of everything . The applause always came .

She then proceeded to take off the dress , one shoulder at a time . Gyrating to the music ,her hands running over her body . Ruffling the hair ,circling the lips , and pausing seductively over those breasts.
She slithered to the ground , threw her head back , breathing heavily .Making sure that they could see her erect nipples pumping up and down ,through the dress . Her legs crossed over , as if trying to block them from seeing what was in there.
There was nothing men loved , more than a woman trying to cover herself up provocatively.

And ,she finally unzipped the dress and threw it off her back . There was no applause , just the silent anticipation . The kind of silence that screams of chaos .

She knew that the teasing was over ,it was time . AS as the Lycra covered waist moved to the slow tunes of an Arabic number ,all your could hear was the slow steady sounds of breathing .
Give them a half-naked ,olive skinned stripper no.21 , belly dancing across the floor .And , they were yours. Completely.

She now observed them all . This was the moment of power . The moment which why she knew why she would never leave her job .

There was the guilty stare , the 'wife loving' guy . Sitting and trying his best to evade his eyes , but lust would keep pulling him back.
The 'animal' , glaring ,probing unabashedly . It hardly mattered that she was almost naked . These ones could strip you down to the bones .
The 'gentleman' , with a scotch in hand . His eyes admiring ,gentle and what's the word , 'sympathetic' ?
The 'depressed one' , wasted and uninterested . The poetic soul , who was finding emptiness and grief even here .
The regulars , the business officials , the bachelors , the 'underage kids' , the perverts . It was a veritable bazaar of manliness .
Not a bazaar actually , it was their natural habitat . They were all here for the same , there was no need to pretend or hide anything in here .

                                                                 

She gyrated her ass over his lap slowly . Just the slightest touch , one that would arouse him enough to make him go insane . HE slid his hands in the thongs , along with the crisp 200$.
'There , Aditya can have his new laptop' .
As she wrapped her hands around his head ,drawing his face closer to those scented mounds . Her mind travelled back to home , to a far off planet near Haridwar.

"Do you have no shame ? What will the neighbours say" ,amma had cried the first time she had told her.
The omnipresent fear of neighbours , coming to know about a tiny strip joint in Las Vegas.
The crying had stopped , so had the curses ,abuses and threats . Money had a way of hushing up everything.

Why had she told her ? She knew how hurt amma would be . Amma , in her white cotton sari . Amma ,walking down the ghats of Ganga every morning with her pooja thaali.

In the end , she knew why . Because she was not ashamed of it . There was no cheating here , no lying , no pretensions , no corruption , no office politics.
You had it ,you sold it . Face to face . There was no guilt , no remorse . It was the most honest work she could find , with her capabilities.

Anita slipped her tongue in his ears , and bit the earlobes . Gently . The music was blaring , lights were shimmering . The audience was now busy looking at stripper no.24

Monday, July 8, 2013

To be a book nerd



Have you seen that lost looking guy ( or that chick ) ,sitting with a book in hand .

Maybe on  the distant ,secluded bench in the park . In the cafe ,on the flight , in the corner of the class or simply waiting for his/her turn at the hair salon.
Look from far . Do not go and tap them on the shoulder ,or scream near their eardrums. Even if you know them . Yes . Please.

They might give you a blank stare ,or bark an impolite answer . Or give you a sad ,fake smile .
( It all depends on the kind of book he's reading at that precise moment )

Well , it's not their fault .
What would you do , if you were on a date and somebody has rudely walked in ?

Yes . A date . You heard it right .
For these poor souls , it's actually a date . With someone who understands them better than all those mortals around them .
The best thing is , their date not only understands them . It speaks to them , comforts them , consoles , inspires , loves , cuddles and even makes love to them.
And what it demands in return ,is nothing .

To be a book nerd ,is like being an extra terrestrial . The book in hand , can be his UFO . he resides in two worlds simultaneously .
He can be sitting in the kitchen , and raiding Gringotts with his two best friends.
He can be on the bus to home , and drinking climbing down the wall of his castle in Transylvania.
It took her 120 days to go around the world , because her other universe came up with exams.
While the world was cheering for India in the World Cup , she was sitting on the floor and invading Lanka with Rama.

To be a book nerd , you must be reborn a thousand times .
He has cried with Hassan , when he couldn't retrieve Amir's kite .
He has fought for Meluha , with a trident in hand .
She has raced across Malgudi , with Swami's gang .
She has eaten scones with Julian and Dick . And attended midnight parties in Malory Towers !

He ends up collecting boomarks.
He goes online to check for the release dates of books.
He gets excited whenever someone mentions a book , in the nearby radius.
When he sees other members of the species , he ends up asking for their book too . Just to 'look it over'
He carries one in his bag all the time . Just in case ,if he ends up being free for sometime
He goes glassy eyed in bookstores . 

To be a book nerd , is patience . For sometimes ,you have to remove the bookmark and leave a friend halfway .
To be a book nerd , is tolerance . For sometimes , you must swallow what you read . Even though ,you do not like it .
To be a book nerd , is balance . As you whirl in and out of a thousand centuries and worlds .


To be a book nerd , is joy . Oh ! Such blissful joy