BESERK! Page 11

  A pack of wild dogs emerged from the undergrowth, not far from gathered people. They showed no fear or hatred, they too had taken refuge like the Moken.

  The beast brought him memories of Phut. He had once saved Phut from them. What had happened to Phut? Where was Phut? Was he dead? Instantly his newborn boy in his arms began to cry. He cradled the child and softly wept. Phut had not gone any where; he had come back to him as a child. Only the prophecy told at Phut’s birth had come true.

  Untold danger would befall on the Moken if the child died an unnatural death or was united with his first love!

  x x x

  The Tsunami on December 26, 2004 destroyed the Moken of Myanmar and Thailand living out on the sea. Only a few living on the island managed to escape by climbing a cliff. The fate of the rest is uncertain. It will take years to realize the real damage the tsunami has done to the population of this unknown nomadic people.

  The Moken tribesmen are of Austrontesian origin. They are nomadic people of the sea who probably migrated from southern China several millenniums ago. Finally they settled on the several hundred islands of Merigui Archipelago near Myanmar and Thailand mainland.

  The End

  4. The Crazy Devdas

  Chapter 1: The Crazy Devdas

  A farm house-Hisar, India

  I love Shilpa with my life. I desperately want to marry her. I have brought her to my farm house to explain this to her. Convince her of my love. Remind her of the times, I had done things in her interest, just to prove I love her. Things she too does not know. Also, to confess some bad deeds I have done.

  I have had women before but with Shilpa it’s different. Yet, she fails to understand this; she can really be hard-headed. All women can be hard-headed at times.

  Shilpa, my girlfriend, lies on the bed. Still unconscious from the punch given by me. I feel sorry, yet I had to do it. Her wrists and ankles are tied to the bed post. The rope has caused red welts as it chafes against her white baby skin. Her mouth is gagged with duct tape but I have pierced a couple of holes in the tape to ease her breathing. This is the least I can do to minimize her pain. Seeing her in this plight brings tears to my eyes.

  I stand before her admiring her innocent face, smoking marijuana and drinking vodka. I bend down and kiss her forehead, and then both her cheeks, they feel warm and smooth. Picking up a lipstick, I draw lips on the duct tape and kiss them.

  I cannot wait for her to revive. I blow marijuana smoke over her face to awake her. Then realize it could put her into deeper sleep. Perhaps, if I sprinkle a few drops of vodka on her face she will wake up. I do it.

  There, that did the trick, she is stirring to consciousness. Her doe like eyes are filled with fear as she catches sight of me. It pains me terribly to see her so. I reach out to touch and comfort her but I can feel her cringe under my touch. Why is she behaving so insensitively? It is I who is the loser after falling in love with her. Why do some women behave so hard-heartedly?

  I move closer, get on my knees, and smack her across her cheek.

  I feel her pain but cannot help screaming in her face. “Bitch, you have dashed all my hopes! Destroyed my life! Forced me to hurt you! I love you with all my life, my dear Shilpa. If only you realized how much I love you, all this would not have happened. Every time I proposed to you, you just had one answer. One bloody standard answer! You know Gopi that’s not possible. Besides,I love another. That was even before you met that Bastard you plan to marry. What is bloody wrong with me! Bloody Hell! I am well educated; hail from a rich and influential family, smart and fair. Damn it! I even belong to your community! Maybe, I am a little on the shorter side and a wee bit scrawny. But I had promised you I would workout, tone up my physique. Even my personal trainer had advised me to give up this frequent use of marijuana and vodka. But the ache you gave me, made it impossible.”

  Once again she is beginning to cry, damn these type of women! I move a little further away from her and soften my tone; maybe I can convince her to marry me.

  “Love can be beautiful but can be lethal too. Along with love comes lust. That makes it lethal. It is impossible to separate the two. Everybody lusts, even God. If He did not he would not create women. Now, is it wrong to lust? Shilpa, I confess I have an addiction towards women. I lust for them. I have never been with a whore, I swear, it is only those girls I pick up at the pub or the gym. I have been once or twice with a man and it feels yuck! That being the time I was completely stoned. After falling in love with you, it has been with nobody else. And it will never be, I promise.”

  Her expression hasn’t changed. I blow smoke in her face and move away. I feel like banging my head on a rock. I sip my vodka and think of what else to say. If I cannot convince her, I will have to kill her. I cannot bear the thought of sharing her with someone else. Within a fortnight she is to marry and it makes me crazy to think of the mehndi on her hands and feet.

  Once again I move near her and kneel on the floor to reach her level. “Darling, let me tell you the first time I saw you, I instantly fell in love with you. But I knew you were the highly conservative type. Getting you would be impossible, but I told myself, ‘Nothing is Impossible for Gopi Prabhakar’. I knew I could easily get close to you, and I did, sooner than you realized. It was my second year B.A., the date was 20th July. The rain was pouring hard and in spite of your umbrella you were drenching wet. Your pink salwar-kameez was sticking to you like a second skin. I was in the canteen with my friends watching you. I still remember your cherubic face; you had not even lost your baby fat. Those doe like innocent eyes, cute nose and lips. Rain water was streaming down your thick plaited hair. You looked just like a doll.”

  I close my eyes and recollect the sight before continuing, “And Ah! Those wonderful earrings. Those huge wonderful earrings, suspended like chandeliers from your ears. Later on, if you remember you misplaced them during a picnic. We all searched for it but did not find it. You believed it was lost. But in reality I had stolen it. Sometimes when no one is around I wear them and strut about. They are practically worthless, but to me they are priceless. How I treasure them!”

  Chapter 2: The Crazy Devdas

  Shilpa has now grown silent. The story has intrigued her. I better remind her of another before she begins crying. Now, I realize the root of the, ‘The Arabian Nights.’

  “Some months later, after joining college you told me you wanted a particular room in the hostel. The girl named Amrita, who occupied it, was not ready to make a sacrifice for you. Within a couple of days you got the room, remember.”

  This time her eyes flickered at me in fear. Good, she was listening. “Then Amrita had an accident, hit-and-run they told you. Such hit-and-run incidents are a common thing here. A student high on weed or coke can easily do it and get away with it. It’s no big deal. But it was no accident, it was engineered. When I hit her bicycle with my car, I tell you, it was a sight. For over a few seconds Amrita was air borne, before hitting the rocky part on the side of the road. She had broken an arm, two ribs and a leg in two places. It took her about six months to recover.”

  Before I can end, she is beginning to cry.

  “What is with you?” I scream at her. “Are you daft or what? I tell you something to cheer you up and you weep. Did you not enjoy the stay in that room? At that time, did you spare a thought for the poor Amrita lying all bandaged up in the hospital like an Egyptian mummy? I simply hate insensitivity, Sweetheart.”

  She continues to weep. Maybe, if I tell her something I really enjoyed, it will cheer her up, so I begin. “I loved your enthusiasm when I told you that I wanted you to meet papa. You not only fixed my button but also suggested what clothes I should wear! Almost wifey like, you simply wowed me! Then you bowled me over with the respect you showed my father. The moment I introduced you to papa, you instantly bent and touched his feet. A gesture reserved mainly for the in-laws, a blessing. Again a wifey thing! It was my memorable moment. Papa has always pampered and supported me in every
thing I did. He knows everything about me. He was very much impressed with you. Yet, before leaving, he whispered, Gopi beta, don’t destroy your life and career after girls, they’re just not meant for you.”

  Her indifference towards me continues. Her eyes are still fear laden. At this moment when I think of papa I believe what he said was right. But I will try, make her see sense. Make her realize how much she is indebted to me; remind her how I saved her from that joker Manthan. But first I need to fix myself a fresh joint and a glass of vodka.

  All this explaining can tire one down quickly.

  Taking my joint and vodka I sit beside her on the bed. Her thigh is close to mine, I can feel the warmth, it feels good. She tries to pull away. I pin her thigh down with my elbow. She squirms a bit but in the end relents.

  Only then, I begin. “Remember that joker, Manthan, in our college. He was a real number. A typical clown, oiled hair, glasses, old fashioned clothes of the 60’s. A typical village dog. Nobody would even talk to him and you fell for him? You were really crazy Shilpa, right out off the loony bin. In the beginning I felt it was just sympathy but as time went by the two of you were dating. Meeting in the canteen, going for movies in cheap cinemas, traveling by public transport. That village dog could not even afford to take you to a decent hotel! The climax came when I saw the two of you sharing an ice-cream! Even worse, was when you nibbled the melted cream off his fingers and giggled. At that moment I knew the piece of shit had to go. Had to be put away for a long, long… time.”

  I take another a sip before continuing, “What else, the dog was arrested with enough marijuana to stay in jail for a long, long… time. And you know how corrupt the law is in our area. They are literally waiting for such scapegoats…such peasant boys. I heard, his father could not do a thing for the peasant boy and so he is serving at least a four year sentence. I wonder how he got four years. My friend had put only a year worth of marijuana in his jhola—cloth bag? Oh! Now I get it, the police put all the pending cases on poor peasant boy. What a bloody shame…!”

  Oh no! Once again her crying begins, but now audible sobs. It is almost like she is mourning for the dead.

  “Shut up! Shut up…!” I scream. Crying is okay but this sobbing, I can’t bear it. “I saved you from a life time of poverty and this is what I get! You would have to work your arse out, in the fields. Cook on firewood. Sleep with half the village men! And God knows what! With me, I will give you the best of life. Money, jewelry, luxury…any damn thing on the face of the earth!”

  Chapter 3: The Crazy Devdas

  Her sobbing has grown silent but her body is still being racked by it. Pity fills my heart, I love her after all. I bend and kiss her on the duct tape. She squirms in distaste as if I am a leper. Furious, I smack her on her face. It draws blood. I immediately regret. I should have known her dislike for joint and vodka.

  It reminds me of the evening she had heard about poor Manthan’s arrest. She came to me crying bitterly. I felt sorry for her but that bastard; the poor peasant boy deserved what he got. Imagine making my girl suck his wretched fingers!

  But that evening she was inconsolable, there was nothing I could do. At that time, just for a fleeting moment, I felt like telling her the truth. Maybe, she would see the truth and cheer up. But then better sense prevailed and I suggested that we go to a pub...

  Should I confess and tell her what happened that night? Maybe, maybe my honesty will impress her. “Darling, remember the night we went to the pub.”

  At this her eyes wet with tears turned to me. The fear had not left her eyes. What would I have to do to replace it with love?

  But I continue, “With a little persuasion from me, you were ready to come. I was elated; at last my dream girl was at my beckon. The others in my group were reluctant. They were ashamed to take you along because of your tacky clothes and behnji type look.

  Nothing was going to deter me from taking you along. I saw this as our first date. I got you first done up at the beauty parlour. Then I got you a designer dress, nothing flashy, something modest. Your discomfort was evident and you were ungainly. But to me you were the most beautiful woman in the world. You were starry-eyed and apprehensive when you entered the pub. It was the first time you had been to such an extravagant place. After all, it was one of the most expensive pubs in the locality. Once we settled down I showed you the butterfly tattoo on my arm. This very same tattoo I got here.” I pull up my sleeve to reveal the tattoo. “Can you see it?” I ask her.

  She stares at it and looks at me with the same fear filled eyes.

  “Do you know what your comment was?” I demand. “Do you remember, eh?” For a moment I lock my eyes in hers. The recollection only brings me anger. “Arre baba, we were on a date, we were suppose to say nice things to each other even if we didn’t mean it. Didn’t you lie to the peasant boy sometime or the other? But no, you told me, Gopi it does not suit you. Your arm is too skinny. My arm is too skinny! My arm is too skinny! I swore at that moment. I felt like auctioning you to the many pimps in the pub. But I had let it pass.”

  I am too angry to speak another word. Gulping my vodka, I go for a refill. When I return I have a nasty edge in my tone. “Do you know what I did for revenge? It was one of the best things. I cherish it even now.”

  Fear is even more intense in her eyes. She is attempting to say something. I kneel on the floor and move closer to her. Our faces are a few inches away from each other.

  “Do you recall where you woke up the next morning? Remember Baby, remember. Yeah that’s right. In a hotel, on a bed. And where was I? I was sitting ‘innocently’ on a chair, reading the newspaper. First you thought, you had been raped but later you were sure it did not happen. From then on, to you, I was a good human who simply protected you. You were even grateful to me. But if you remember the night in the pub. You had begun to feel drowsy there. You blamed it on all the smoke and noise around you. But you were wrong. I had your drink spiked. Even before you entered my car you were completely stoned. I took you to the hotel, all the way you were babbling about that peasant boy. How you loved him…! How you miss him…! and all that shit.”

  Even now, I can feel the anger bubbling in me, exactly, the way it did that night. But I had to let her know, so I continue. “I took you to a room, at first I thought I would make love to you. But after hearing about the peasant boy I was furious. So I decided to teach you a lesson. Since you value your self-respect so much, I decided to attack it. I undressed you, took photographs with my mobile. They are on my laptop, whenever I need to pleasure myself…”

  Before I could end my sentence she starts sobbing. “What are you sobbing for?” I yell “Don’t you ever have an urge to pleasure yourself? Haven’t you ever pleasured yourself?”

  The sobbing grows loud though muffled. I cannot wait any longer it’s been five hours since she has been missing from home. Sooner or later the police are bound to come searching for her here. For the very last time I am going to ask her if she will marry me.

  Chapter 4: The Crazy Devdas

  I take a hard pull at my joint and a deep swallow of vodka. Decision making can be really tough. I walk up to Shilpa. Fear has replaced terror in her eyes. She has sensed something has changed. I walk up to her and climb into her bed.

  She tries to move away but the binds prevent her. I am close enough and can feel her body heat. I feel aroused but ignore it. I am not here for pleasures of the flesh but for true love. Where will she find a lover who bares the soul like an open book?

  With a thudding heart I propose to her “Shilpa, will you marry me?”

  It doesn’t take a moment; she answers with a head shake. No.

  “Are you sure?” I ask calmly. No use losing my cool.

  No, she shakes her head again.

  I arise calmly. As I had reckoned some women can be hard-headed! There is no way of reasoning with them. If I can’t have her nobody shall. I go to my vodka, finish the drink neat. I make a firm decision.
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  I walk up to her. Calmly, I begin to undress her. She tries to resist but the ropes are strong enough.

  She now lies undressed on the bed. Her eyes are on me. For her benefit I turn to her and begin to undress myself. If I can’t have her nobody shall. First I strip off my shirt then my trousers.

  I am now standing in my bra and panties. I begin to strap on my favourite dildo.

  I move close to her and whisper, “I will first show you how a man makes love and then a woman. You decide who is better. But before, I better take this off.” I strip the duct tape off, not too gently.

  Instantly, her pleading starts “Please Gopi, please let me go… how many times I have told you our love is not possible. The two of us are women; you know, I am not lesbian.”

  “Who cares!” I say, hot with passion, “I shall convert you; besides homosexuality is legalized by the law too.” I climb over, my dildo aimed at her. And then she does the unthinkable.

  She spits in my face and cries. “This is for Manthan.”

  It hits me on my face, hot and slimy. I try wiping the stuff off my face, completely appalled.

  Before I wipe it off, she spits again “This is for taking my nude photographs!”

  Again it hits me squarely on my face. I am too stunned. Can a human fall to this level of depravity? I simply don’t believe it.

  Before I can wipe the gooey stuff of my face, she spits once more “This is for the girl, Amrita, whom you nearly killed.” And smiles acidly.

  I am overcome with rage. How dare she! A low peasant’s daughter! I rush to the drawer, get out my low caliber pistol and put it to her forehead.

  She smiles back at me, a sardonic one that challenges me. I am infuriated. Without a thought I pull the trigger.

  Chapter 5: The Crazy Devdas

  A small hole appears on her forehead. Blood begins to trickle out. Slowly the light in her eyes dim and fade off. Her breathing gets slower and slower. She does not struggle or squirm in pain.