A summer of expectancy

I have not been this excited about a hindi movie in a while. Just hearing Dhanush speak hindi made my day yesterday. He has something that just makes him so watchable. I have also not re-watched a trailer so many times in a while. I do not like this feeling of expectancy and hype (self-created of course) as I usually get disappointed. But, Dhanush has not disappointed me so far. One more big plus for me is that they said "Music by A. R. Rehman" and not "An A. R. Rehman Musical". Something to look forward to this summer...

The Gauntlet Part II

Suddenly they were in a room with a fireplace and nothing else. There was not a fire per se, just the embers of one waiting to be stoked. Nothing adorned the stone walls and there was not even a rug on the stone floor. She could see this much in the dim light of the red hot logs. On the mantle piece she saw a strange circular symbol engraved into the stone with a curiously astounding precision and artistry. The room gained importance and bearing because of this incredible dichotomy.

"Now Vasundhra, to answer your question", said Vikramaditya, breaking the spell of the room, "I want you to rule in my stead for a year and prove that you are indeed capable."

"What?", said the shocked Vasundhara. "Let me finish", he continued, "You will not ask for my help in this one year nor will I interfere. Also the year starts tomorrow.", he finished.

By this time Bhairava had joined them and stood brooding in one corner.

"And what will you do? In this one year?", she asked, tongue firmly in cheek. "Hmmm, what would you have me do?", he asked, playing along.

"Take over my duties of course.", she said, not batting an eyelid. It was relieving to hear him laugh aloud.

"Well this is the wager then: We will each take over the other's duty for a year. You should also rule twice as well as me and the same goes for me. I will not ask your help and neither should you mine.", he asked her.

"I agree.", she said for the first time doubtful. But there was no doubt to be heard in her words. As she said this she turned away from Vikramaditya and did not notice Bhairava hand something to him. She turned towards him as he said,

"Well then if that is the case.." He swiftly undid her robe before she realized it and placed a hot brand on top of her left breast. The searing heat of the brand was so harsh that she did not feel the sharp, momentary prick of the needle. As she threatened to faint, he held her steady all the time guiding her by the elbow to the darkest corner of the room. There he made her sink into a chair. The chair felt oddly familiar and stopped her from fainting.

"Look up", he commanded barely in a whisper. She looked up immediately and found his searching concerned eyes. But as their eyes met, the concern was replaced by steel. He gently brushed the still fresh brand on her otherwise unblemished skin. She winced and immediately looked down upon her breast: It was the same strange circular symbol. He lifted her chin and said, "This, Vasundhara, is the mark of an Aditya." "With this, you are never safe now. But then again, you will also be almost universally revered." Her entire body went stiff with tension. "However, you will never bare it, unless in need."

Now, lightly tracing the mark he said, "The inner circle is the Sun, the Aditya. The outer circle denotes the people, your Praja, your subjects. The four lines connecting them are the rays, your duty, your promise, your justice and your mercy. Remember the outer circle rules the inner one, though it may seem the other way. The inner most dot, the black pin prick that is almost invisible - that is the darkness.  You will always keep it at bay." His voice was commanding, insistent and could not be ignored. It seemed to fill her entire consciousness...

She remembered the day they first met. It was her Swayamvaram. There were a hundred suitors in her hall. Then they heard it, a loud trumpet, like a clap of thunder. She rushed outside to her balcony and there he was - tall, terrible, handsome. With the Sun behind him creating a halo of sorts and his armor shining, he looked like a God descended. He was at the head of an army that stretched as far as the eye could see. She looked on as her father rushed to him and heard clearly when he asked if she would have him for a husband. Her father looked up questioningly, ready to object, be it at the cost of his own life. She had already fallen for him though..

"Yes, I will.", she agreed with the weight of truth behind her. And at those words, the tension seemed to lift and her taut limbs softened. She sank into the cushion and felt the familiar curves of the chair. She looked down in astonishment. It was her chair! It was a peculiar chair. There were no intricate designs nor any ornate craftsmanship. Its opulence was underlined by its sheer comfort. She remembered that the cushions were filled with silk cotton - picked, threaded and puffed within seconds of the pod bursting. It had taken years of effort and precision to arrive at this epitome of comfort. It was her chair! She remembered Vikramaditya asking her to bring it with her. He had in fact insisted. This was her chair! Her island of peace, her anchor to reality. As she realized this she felt a sudden burst of love for Vikramaditya followed almost immediately by an intense pain. This time she fainted.

Waking up, she found herself in his arms. He was whispering in her ear,  "I am sorry...".  It stopped the moment she stirred. Gathering himself, he faced her. "I injected a small dose of an old, odious drug when I branded you Vasundhara; directly into your heart. Now, whenever you feel powerful emotion, you will fill intense pain overpowering you. The pain will last only a few seconds and you will stop fainting after the first few times. But, I am afraid, it is something you have to get used to."

She could only manage a mumbled "Why?" in response. He faced her firmly and said, "To remind you that your duty is to your people."

The Gauntlet had been accepted.

I swear, I am honest!

In years past,
There was a boy named Jack,
He was 11 years old,
And whatever he said, he never took back.

Of course this meant no stories,
Or lies, big and small; none played,
He was just a little kid,
But he was straight as Georgie's blade.

He would tell you if you were ugly,
Or if you had stinky breath,
So much so that people thought,
He needed a stinking thorn wreath.

None could lead him astray,
However well intentioned,
Not even his mother tried (after he called her soup goulash),
She had become conditioned.

Though, one day it came crashing down,
Little Jack tripped on a school stair,
His mistake 'twas,
But he blamed it on a wire laid bare.

His honest days were over,
Now he is 54 and some,
He has a huge house with a pool,
Filled through with vodka and rum.

Yes, the school payed out,
10 million sweet kachings,
He had it all invested of course,
And even owns a Chinese named Ling's.

Where is the moral? you ask,
Well look for it up your arse,
For life is full of people,
Who live out a rich, wholesome farce.

The Gauntlet

"You are leaving already? I hardly see you anymore.", she said.

"You knew how it would be when you agreed to be my wife. I made sure you knew.", he said. 

"I thought you were exaggerating.", she said, her pout almost heard in her voice.

"Well, I am the king, Vasundhara.", he said with a sigh. 

"Exactly! You are the king. Can't you get somebody else to handle your affairs for today?", she asked exasperated.

A good natured smile was the only thing keeping his tired face alive, but, as he turned towards her, the tiredness vanished and the smile was replaced by a mischievous grin. There was a dangerous glint to his eye that those who knew him well had grown to appreciate. Vasundhara missed it of course. They had been married but for 6 months.

Vikramaditya was known for his wisdom and for his quick wit. He never came to a decision without deliberation. But this time it was an easy decision...

"Are you saying being a King is easy? Are you asking me to leave the job for someone else?", he asked gently all the time thinking, "Will she fall for it?"

"Not exactly, but I am sure I can do as good a job as you can, if that is what you are implying!", she said with not little anger.

She had fallen for it. "Well, prove it.", said Vikramaditya with a triumphant grin which he hid from Vasundhara.

"Whatever do you mean?", she asked.

At this precise moment, Vikramaditya called in his personal aide Bhairava and whispered many an order into his willing ear. And at that very instant, all the lamps were extinguished as one, plunging the room into a comfortable darkness.

Vasundhara was not surprised or taken aback as she had become accustomed to Vikramaditya's strange habits. He was in deep thought, this she knew. Suddenly, she heard his urgent voice near her, "Take my hand Vasundhara and follow me." She knew the voice well and knew better than to argue. She had learnt from experience that he would not answer her most persistent inquiries. She followed him down a passage she had not known existed and would not have been able to pin point if asked again. She was blind for all purposes. But with her arm in his, she trusted Vikramaditya completely.

The gauntlet had been thrown... 

Sunset

It was still a few minutes to sunset, but the sun was fast closing in. Dusk is a beautiful time. Especially that day, on that road. I was on my usual evening run, albeit late by a few hours. I usually try and run while the sun is still out. It was good that I had chosen not to on that day. I would never have been witness to that incredible vista otherwise.

There is an uphill slope at the beginning of that road and as you rise up, you are granted a vision of the shimmering lake, glowing in the sun's setting rays. While the lake is one side, the other side is a wall of houses. Houses of a disarming similarity all basking peacefully in the twilight. It was a sight of ponderous beauty and I stopped for a second at the crest of the slope. I took a deep breath and tried to take the entire sight in, with one swift sweep of my eyes. It was not enough; my greed was not satisfied. So, I slowly turned my head from one side to another and as I did this I noticed tiny details that enhanced the beauty of this panorama. The houses were not as similar as they had seemed before...

The changes between the houses were tiny and pleasant and added to my sense of wonder. There was a french window here and a tall chimney there. A house in stark white and another in brilliant purple. But in these multitude of minuscule and trivial changes, I detected a sense of ownership and also, more powerfully, a flowing harmony. As I stood spellbound and wordless, the scene was broken by the sun: setting.

The street lights had already been burning for a few minutes, but now the lights in the houses began to go up. As the lights started turning on, I noticed a harmony in this as well, from the farthest house barely visible to my youthful eyes to the nearest house looming before me. Shaking my head in bemused appreciation, with a wide smile on my lips, I began my descent into that long, incredible road.

As I ran, I noticed my shadows slowly lengthening as they left the comforting shelter of one street light and shortening again as I approached the next. I looked up and was at once struck by a strange phenomenon. My sub-conscience kicked in and I remembered noticing the same phenomenon in the first house as well: None of the houses I passed seemed to have anybody in them. They were all well lit, with their living rooms and sometimes their kitchens clearly visible, but there seemed to be nobody about. My brain had previously dismissed this, but the continuation of this theme had made me consciously notice it. Any residual satisfaction I had at that previous sight of incredible beauty, on which, the evening curtain had fallen a mere minute ago, up and vanished.

I scratched my brain for a logical explanation: maybe they are all resting inside their bedrooms, or, maybe they are all out. All these I rejected. It was not the case with a few houses, but with every house I had encountered so far on that road. There was just nobody on that road. I began to itch for any sign of humanity. Of civilization there were many signs, but not one sight of human life. As my ears strained and my eyes searched, I heard it: A loud bark followed by a long howl. It was not a wolf or any other wild animal. There was no doubt; it was a dog. There was a note of cultivated terror in the howl. No ordinary dog either, a huge beast. My shadows lengthened and shortened much faster now, as I sought the comfort of the next light, even as I passed the one.

Then again, my curiosity was insatiable. "WHERE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE?", my mind screamed. I just had to know. As I approached the last two houses, I formulated a desperate plan. I would knock on one of the doors and if anybody answered I could always ask for water or directions. At the first house, the door was painted red and the whole house seemed a little crooked. The storm drain was at a weird angle and the windows were very big. So big that I coud clearly see the TV inside (off), and the empty couch and the empty chairs. I decided the next house would be the one. It was the last house. I did not have a choice. Adrenaline was pumping through my body and my inner demon kept whispering "The dog is in this house, you fool." But I pressed on. I had to know.

By this time, I was heaving, my lungs desperate for air. I sounded like a man in the final stretch of a sickening disease, about to die. My eyes were burning with the sweat from my brow. But as I gingerly stepped towards the brown door, I clearly noticed the number 2314 boldly written in a bright scarlet. There was a little paint dripping from the circle around the numbers, drying out. The sign had been painted not very long ago. My heart pounding and my lungs heaving I raised my hand. I had no idea then, if my legs were shaking from my desperate run or my desperate fear. I knocked on the door and rasped, "Anybody home?"

As I heard the approaching footsteps, I could clearly make out a set of paws along with them and took an involuntary step away from the door. The door opened. At that very instant the streetlight right in front of the house gave out and a strong wind blew. It cooled my sweaty brow and my hot face. But I could not feel much more as I heard a shot fire. I saw the muzzle flash from a double barrel gun, blinding me. I did not make out the figure behind it. Incredibly, the first shot missed and I heard the bullet whistle past me. However, the second one did not; not at that close a range. It was not painful.