The Succubus

The restaurant was murky. It was almost as if a mist had invaded it. Thankfully the food was delicious. Even my Father seemed to be enjoying his tofu pho. My Mother looked a little displeased with the ambiance but then again being displeased is her usual state. I leaned back in my chair, quietly content, gazing around at my aunts, uncles and cousins whom I had magically brought together for a meal. For once my family seemed cohesive. Suddenly a commotion drew my attention and I spotted Nek and Wenerd staggering into the restaurant and noisily hailing a hostess. I stiffened. The duo always spelled trouble. I watched them out of the corner of my eye as they were being seated at the far end of the restaurant. I suddenly felt some tugging at my shoes underneath the table. I lunged down expecting the worst. But it was only my four year old cousin trying to play a prank. I urged him to try that with someone at the next table. As I lifted my head out from underneath, I smelt smoke. My first reaction was to curse Wernerd and Nek who I am sure started puffing away in spite of the non-smoking signs. Then the smoke thickened and I knew there was a bloody fire in the place. I jumped on to the table and tried to urge my family to leave. They strangely seemed content to ignore the smoke and eat in the burning restaurant. Kicking a few plates over did the trick and they soon tried to join the panicking exodus. As I was walking across tables towards the entrance, I spotted the Succubus emerging from the smoky interior.

She still looked stunning, impeccably clad in a figure caressing outfit with her red hair framing the fire in the background. As the blood in my veins froze, my first thought was to get her away from my family. I leapt from the table into thronging mass of humanity swelling at the door. I spied Nek and Wenerd still clutching their whiskey glasses trying in vain not to spill the alcohol but yet get out. I somehow weaseled my way out. I hit the asphalt running without giving a thought if any of my family was trapped in the fire. I knew I had to draw the Succubus away from my loved ones as she was infinitely more dangerous than the flames. So I ran like hell.

Confusingly I soon found myself panting along the Malecón. The sky was a startling blue. Looking across the bay made me desperately want to stop and stare. But I heard her footsteps behind me so I quickened my pace as I snaked along. I must have running for a good twenty minutes when I suddenly couldn't hear her footsteps. Coming to a dead halt and a 360 degree scan confirmed that she was no longer following me. She had sprung her trap and I had fallen for it. My family and friends were at her mercy now. I frantically flagged a cab. Strangely the driver had never heard of the restaurant so I yelled out the intersection in frustration. The traffic was sparse but the minutes it took to get there stretched out like pliant rubber. I stumbled out of the taxi after shoving way too many bills in the driver's face. In spite of the rudeness, he seemed happy at being over paid. I looked around the area but couldn't find the restaurant or any eatery except for a place that seemed to attract a lot of people but did not clearly state their cuisine. The place was called Coppelia and it only served ice creams. The line for getting in was pythonous. I ignored the queue and wandered around the million tables. Each customer had something like ten bowls of ice cream in front and they were stuffing their faces like there was no tomorrow. Not sure why but I suddenly figured that the ice cream would calm the pounding in my head and help me think. I made my way to the top floor which was strangely devoid of people. I sat down at the empty table overlooking a strangely familiar courtyard which had an old Japanese house from the 17th century. A chocolate ice cream appeared before me and I started eating. I then saw someone dressed in a hakama emerge from the house with a wooden stick. He then proceed to perform a few stretches and casually perform a few kattas. I got up to take a closer look and realized that it was Sir Twilight. Watching that man gracefully go about his kattas and eating the ice cream magically calmed me down. I would have stayed there forever but then I woke up.

The bed was dank with my sweat. I peeled off my soaking t-shirt and wandered in to the living room of my apartment dog tired as if I had really run miles. In dreams you run faster and longer but you lose even more energy than in  the real world. I logically decided that to be the reason for my fatigue. The makings of a good cup of latte was almost in place when the door bell started to buzz impatiently. I continued making my coffee hoping whoever it was would just go away. The buzzing became a pounding on the door. I cursed as I went to see who it was. It was the Succubus dressed exactly the way I pictured her in my dream. I almost panicked and opened the door. It would have been curtains if I had. My head started to pound again, begging for the coffee that was almost made but time was precious now. I turned on my computer and Exailed the soundtrack of Twilight Samurai. Knowing it would weaken her I turned up the volume and took off my gold chain. I placed it inside the vial of my pen and set it on fire with Dragon's breath. Magic runes written in gold were the only thing that would stop her and that too only if she read it. I allowed the music to wash over me as I went about writing the runes. The pounding on my door continued. Another minute and it would give away. I calmly finished runes,  folded the parchment and slid it through the mail box. The banging stopped. I then heard her pain and felt her scream as she faded away. She was foolish enough to read it. But to make her go away permanently I would have to write runes in my own blood and ingest them. The needle of the syringe was blunt but I forced it in to my throbbing veins.

And the days went by like paper in the wind...

The lights of bar beckoned and I could already taste the beer. I staggered in like the drunk I would soon become. It needed a few drinks to make me walk straight these days. I plopped my self at the bar and gestured the bartender over. My gesturing froze for a microsecond as I recognized the serving wench. It was the Succubus. It must have been 20 years since the dream and though Succubuses never age, the days had not been kind to this one. Blood runes have a way of doing that. I acted as if I had never seen her before as I ordered an IPA. She quietly poured me the beer and then proceeded to stare me down. I nonchalantly sipped my ale in silence.

"Don't tell me you don't know who I am, you bastard!", she suddenly blurted out.

I gave her my best confused smile and feigned ignorance.

"Think hard, you fucker. I am sure you at least remember the pleasant nights", she yelled.

"I don't have a clue as to who you are lady", I said, trying to show some annoyance at her swearing. That was met with even more curses and the lack of reaction from me was pissing her off even more.

"Lady, please calm down. I was in an accident a few years ago and had amnesia. There are huge chunks of my past that I don't remember", I said trying assuage her with some Oscar worthy acting.

Looking genuinely shocked by this revelation, she asked, "So you don't remember anything about me?"

"Apparently I only remember the good bits from my yesteryears", I replied and walked out.

This time I heard her scream...

To The Deputy Director of Tourism, Goa

“You can't blame the locals; they have never seen such women. Foreign tourists must maintain a certain degree of modesty in their clothing. Walking on the beaches half-naked is bound to titillate the senses,” New Delhi's Mail Today newspaper quoted Pamela Mascarhenas, Goa's deputy director of tourism, as saying Friday.

To the Deputy Director of Tourism, Goa
Pamela Mascarhenas,

By making the statement above you are blaming women instead of taking responsibility of the issue. If you believe a person's dress is culturally inappropriate, you may continue to believe so, but you cannot defend any act of violence. A person inappropriately dressed according to your idea of 'Indianness' does not deserve to be attacked, assaulted, molested, raped or even whistled at.

For your information, women from across age groups be it 3 month old babies of 90 year old have been raped. They have been raped in saris, burkhas, salwar kameez, school uniforms, bikinis, jeans, skirts, shirts,lungis. Women have been molested, assaulted, raped at all times of the day, and in public places.

We hope this will direct you towards taking responsibility of these incidents by actually addressing male behaviour and men in Goa, for which you will first have to address yourself by accepting this truth.

We have evidence even though we don't really need it.

No woman of any colour, dress , age, character deserves to be sexually violated or what some might lightly call 'eve teased'.

Thank you for your attention,
An Indian girl who loves her saris and her hot pants.

Unidentified Flying Lights

My phone was whistling. The caller id revealed it was Mohanlal. Sometimes I wish for the days when each phone caller was revealed only after the first words were spoken. But that little hint of the unknown is no longer with us. At least for a change ML's greeting was not the predictable what's up chutiye. Instead it was...

ML: Macha, I think I am in trouble. I was standing outside sucking on a cancer stick when I noticed these lights in the sky. I think its aliens.

His voice did not hint at any consumption of alcohol so I decided not to hang up.

ML: The lights seem to be chasing one another.
KK: Where exactly are these lights?
ML: In the sky, macha. Kind of below the clouds but at the same time above them. They keep going in and out of the clouds. Planes have no effect on them. I think they dodge the planes.

Of course, planes will have no effect! They are fucking lights and objects are known to pass through them. But I refrained from imparting this knowledge to him hoping he would continue to blabber.

KK: Why don't you try taking some pictures?
ML: That will be dangerous. What if they kidnap me on spotting the flash?
KK: Well, if they do kidnap you please come and pick me up too. I am kind of bored here.

In my head I was thinking... I get a free BMW and a flat screen TV.

ML: Of course da. I will try and convince the aliens. But they might not listen to me.

I could now hear him rummaging around for his camera.

ML: I am now trying to take pictures but nothing is showing up.

The idiot was trying to take pictures of the night sky with a dinky little pocket camera!

KK: Try turning the flash off and turn on slow-mo. :-)
ML: Not working dude. But I think it is over. They have to come to fuck Earth and decided to attack the US first. Aliens are smart and must figured out that if the US falls, the rest will be easy.
KK: But won't the military have already picked up on these flying objects?
ML: No! I think they are using infra-red.

And of course using infra-red explains everything! I started to wonder where he was coming up with this stuff. If it was me I could attribute to reading way too many graphic novels in the recent times. But this mallu boy has been reading the Mahabaratha for the past two years. But then again they say that the epic contains all stories known to man.

But I started feeling sad for the guy so I tried to distract him about Wenerd's latest email where he has elegantly abused Zen about his coconut ways.

ML: (Laughing). So Wenerd has fucked up Zen too? Let me go in and check my email.
(30 seconds later)
ML: Macha, the Internet is not working. I think the aliens have hacked it.
(He rushes outside)
ML: The lights are still here. I am telling you this is an unnatural occurrence. I am glad I called you. No one else will understand the seriousness of the situation.
KK: I understand completely. Don't worry I am here for you.
ML: Now we have a clue about the existence of alien life forms. I think God has finally listened to our prayers. I have finally seen an UFO.
KK: But macha, you are just seing lights. There is no object in the picture. So technically these are Unidentified Flying Lights.
ML: That is brilliant. Yes, yes!!! What I am seeing is an UFL!

Thankfully the conversation soon meandered its way to saner grounds. The UFLs soon disappeared and Mohanlal continues to dwell on planet Earth.

The Fool’s Farewell

“Do you want to listen to some music while we sleep”, I asked her.
“Sure, that will be sweet”, she replied.
“We will have to share my ear phones. Do you mind?” I queried.
“We have shared much more so why not ear phones too”, she said with that mischievous smile that I knew I was going to miss.

I silently handed her an ear piece and turned on the soundtrack of the Quiet American on my MP3 player. I lay down beside her on the bed and popped the other ear piece in. The slow sensuous voice of that unknown Vietnamese singer filled my world. If a soul could cry, this is how it would sound.

We did not touch. The only thing that connected us was the music. We looked at each other. Her eyes had more streaks of yellow. We said nothing to each other. All that needed to be spoken was already part of the sound waves of the past. Soon sleep overtook us and I dozed off. I woke to the stars shining on her ceiling as the last song in the album was playing. I looked at her sleeping peacefully. I eased the ear piece from her. The silence did not wake her. Easing out of the bed, I made my way to living area of the studio. The Fool’s poem nudged its way into my head and I sat down to write it down.

In that last dance of chances
I shall partner you no more.
I shall watch another turn you
As you move across the floor.

In that last dance of chances
When I bid your life goodbye
I hope she treats you kindly.
I will hope you learn to fly.1

I looked up to see if the scratching of my pen woke her. She was sleeping blissfully without a care in the world. I finished jotting down the poem from memory and slipped it into an envelope. I then quietly packed my stuff thinking longingly of the happy few days spent in the tiny studio. I then snuck into the bedroom and looked at her. She did not wake. The envelope with the poem I left on the bed next to her and stealthily made my way out, hoping the closing of the door would wake her.

In that dance of chances
When I know you'll not be mine
I will let you go with longing
And the hope that you'll be fine.1

The elevator brought me down to Earth and I then had to rake my head to figure out where I parked my car. After walking a few streets I realized I had parked it right inside the apartment complex. I turned the car on allowing it to warm up. A cancer stick seemed inviting, so I hopped out and sucked on one. I hoped she would have realized that I had left by now. She did not come.

In that last dance of chances
We shall know each other's minds,
We shall part with our regrets
When the tie no longer binds.1

As the light of cigarette dimmed so did my hope. I looked up at the night sky. There were no stars. I got into the car and moved on…

1. "The Fool's Poem" by Robin Hobb from The Tawny Man trilogy.

Days of being wild - Part III

Part I
Part II

The Singaporean’s name was Nek and he seemed quite happy to see us. We were bewildered. “Boys, you should have waited for me before venturing into the Tower”, he quipped excitedly gesturing towards the building behind us. We had no idea what he was talking about. Wenerd and I glanced back and the Tower stood there looking ominously back at us. Nek had his arms around our shoulders and was trying to drag us back into the building. I tried telling him that it was a farcaster but he would not listen. Wenerd too seemed a little worried about going back in but I soon realized it was for different reasons. “Bugger, what are you going to do about the people inside”, he asked Nek. We were promptly given a packet each which he asked to put into our pockets. “Use it only when there is no other hope”, he warned. My mind was still reeling from dealing with the Shoes, missing matrimony, being farcasted and I did not quite comprehend this exchange.

Walking into the Tower somehow did not farcast us back to the Khemer Empire. The inside turned out to be a mall with bars and night clubs lining the sides. I followed the Singaporean and Wenerd into one of them. It was called The Ipanema Club and my first glance assuaged my rising fear. We plopped our tired asses at a table and soon we were plied with alcohol. As we softly waded into the booze I realized I was in fact happy to be here and it was good to see Nek after eons.

The conversation soon got lively the way it should among good friends. Nek regaled us with stories of Zen smelling his underwear to stay alive in a sauna. Wenerd had us in splits about his “dancing days” story. Soon a band started to play, lead by this very hot Malay singer. Nek was ogling her the moment she touched the staged.

As the beer started doing a number in my head, I noticed that there were uncommonly huge numbers of hot looking Asian women wandering around us. I was about to ask Nek about them when one of the hotties practically seated herself in my lap. I swallowed very slowly. She said nothing and proceeded to kiss my neck. Then I felt a pin sink itself into my jugular and I did a fade away, throwing the girl off my lap. I ended up awkwardly on my ass clutching my neck. The girl was standing over me smiling. “Don’t want to part with some of your life blood, sweetheart?” she asked and started to walk away. I was completely confused when she turned and snarled at me revealing it was not pins that were playing with my jugular. She seemed to be a vampire.

Nek helped me to feet and asked with a dumb expression on his face, “Fucker, what made you ask her to come over?” “I did not ask her over and what is the place?” I explained. He started to grin and I could hear that bastard Wenerd guffaw behind me. “Hot Asian girls make your blood flow brother. But in here they happen to be nocturnal creatures too. So it makes it more exciting. Wenerd and I planned to bring you here all along”, he revealed. My friends were conspiring to get me killed. With that thought in my head I lurched, weaving my way through vampires to the bar.

I ordered a double Jack on the rocks and was soon joined by the two fuckers who seemed very amused. “Boss, we can leave if you want”, said Wenerd in between his mirth. I downed the double and waited for it to work its magic on me. “Fuck it boys, lets put a few drinks and chill the motherfucker down.” I said, suddenly filled with some misplaced bravado. Almost in answer we were accosted by the two most beautiful vampires. But they made a beeline for my fine friends. With much amusement I watched them feint and hold off the attack and magically they did. One of them detached herself and grabbed me all in one fast blur. She was breath taking. Her name was Nimnam and she wanted my blood and only mine. I did not know if I had the power to resist this one.

She had her arms around my neck and was looking longingly at my jugular. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in her aura. “Your friends have left you”, she whispered in my ear. My eyes almost popped out of my sockets as I watched the two of them slink off towards the stage to ogle at the Malay. “Let’s go and drink some of your blood”, Nimnam continued to whisper. I could not answer because the band came on with a really loud number for which I am sure I had my friends to thank for. I somehow detached myself from her and tried to make my way out of the bar. But I could not shake her. She had me back in her grasp again near the door. “Just a little blood”, she crooned. I gave in. Only a pint I hoped. Her sharp molars made punctures in my neck and I could feel my life blood seep away. Two minutes which to me seemed like an eternity passed and she let go off me. “Jack Daniels. Yummy”, she said smiling that deadly smile of hers, “Go back to your friends now. They are waiting for you. And don’t worry. No one will bother you tonight. I have left my mark on you. BTW, give me my packet.” I handed her the packet that Nek gave me and then she disappeared.

I shakily walked back into the Ipanema. Wenerd and Nek were leaning against the bar looking at me with a dazed expression on their faces. I joined them in their leaning. “Good show bugger”, says Wenerd handing me another Jack.

(Chris slowly pans the camera out. You know how these scenes are. There is a blur of motion around the three of us but we are the only things in focus.)

Reality slowly kicks in. Nek and Wenerd realize that they have to work tomorrow. I have to contemplate my trek back home. The three of us slowly make our way out of the Tower onto the road. Wenerd hails a taxi. I glance back one final time at the Tower. I don’t think I will ever forget the vampire from Ipanema.

(“That’s a take folks”, says Pen-ek and everything goes dark)

Duhh

All the way from down under jadeeyez showed me :
The Singhs

Neela Vacuum

A neela vacuum cleaner magically appeared at my doorstep a few weeks ago. I first spied it sitting outside my apartment one evening after a days work. I have no idea how it got there. There was much speculation about it between me and Aaromal. I was afraid it was a booby trapped apparatus left outside by a certain ex-girlfriend. I was afraid to even test it out. Aaromal wanted to plug it and then run away while I turned it on.

All the while it continued to sit outside my apartment come rain, snow or shine until this weekend. I was sitting outside reading and drinking beer when my cute upstairs neighbor walked by. I stopped and asked her if she knew anything about this magic vacuum. She said she thought it was mine. I confessed my fears about it being booby trapped. She calmly picked it up and said, "Don't worry, I will throw in the bin for you" and walked away with it. I now really know how Michael Yossarian felt when the new recruits walked away with "The Dead Man in the Tent".

PS: Aaromal must be saying, "Avande uru neela vacuum. Olake de moode."