Skip to main content

The Fisherman Cove's experience


Intractable seeds of eclectic secrets, hidden in the enclosed tubules of senses, enraptured by the asphyxiating heavy fragrance of Indian wine, like flower buds, blossomed. Like a teething child that restlessly licks all its incipient teeth, I tongued the hollowed roof of my mouth with the scarlet tongue that twitched and conveyed an electric pulse with every new sensation it captured.

The night sky was clear. Beneath it, frozen in time, I reached out with my pointed fingers to raise the chilled glass of white wine. “Toast to TCS” sahu’s wine glass clinked against gym’s Shirley temple. A shrill curiosity engulfed me in flames of desire as I wetted my tongue with the dusky yellow wine. The fragile stem of the wine glass throbbed under the weight of lotus of my hand as I shifted my acute conscience around the chiselled lips. Through those lips, white wine encircled my tongue in an enchanted grip. Glistening yellow molten metal, with an acidic taste and corrosive intensity, pulverised my senses and shattered the nerve filaments on the tip of my tongue.

A beautiful lass in polka dotted white frock sat to our right by the bay side. Her beau, moved ever more closely with every sip of wine. Gentle breeze from the beach flew past the lassie as the young man drank out of her glass teasingly; locking his lips where her tomato red lips had left an impression over the cold vaporous glass, he winked at her. Tuna fish now lay on the ellipsoid lime white china plate before me. “I like them, when they are heavy” Sahu observed digging into the pale greenish flesh with the shiny piece of metal in his left, and slicing with another shiny piece of metal with his right hand. Gym noted that the juice ordered was no different from the one he had earlier at Green Coconut that morning. As if awakened by a chanting mantra, like an Egyptian mummy, Jena, who had bagged an offer from Ispath that very evening, dispelled his misgivings on the atmospheric evening’s expensiveness.

A couple sitting by the perimeter of the restaurant finished up, and we moved in to fill the vacant table. We smoked ‘romeo and juliet’ cigar out in the beach and returned to find the lassie gone. She was walking away with the young man who presently was holding her in a lovely embrace around the waist with his right hand. Her frock fluttered in the breeze, billowed as she stepped onto the stairs. And, she walked nonchalantly leaving the silhouette of her curvy body impressed on me, oh! How the frock hugged her in the wind. “sell 5 kgs of this beach sand anywhere outside….” Jena was provoking me into an argument. Jena was critical; Sahu was all entranced; Gym slightly concerned at the spendthrift Sahu’s enchanted air; as for me, I felt like a teething baby, stroking the new found wine sensations thoroughly.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Photograph

I was born at about 8 PM on April the fourth, in the pleasant summer of 1994; the night was calm and the four walls of my birth place imposed a thick blank darkness about me right from the birth. My mother’s umbilical cords wound around a thin cylinder; I was the 24th to be inseminated by the index finger of a nineteen year old pimpled primate. Before me, the others were put to sleep in sets of clearly delineated columns; around the cylinder, they all crooned about in good health. Our embryonic development was constrained between two rows of perforated umbilical cords. I distinctly remember, at the time of my birth, a great blinding flash of light pierced through me; it lasted for less than a second, but it was the most harrowing time I have had. You might be wondering why our mother ‘Kodak’ was so utterly circumspect; to understand this, I must, with your permission, take you down the path of evolution. In the olden days, a specialised primate ‘photographer’ peered through the well ...

Scientific calculator and singar kumkum

Chapter 1 Renu was about eight years old when she was first introduced to the calculator. It was the summer holidays when she found it in the dusty corner of her bedroom cupboard. Her palms were so small at the time that she had to stretch them both to hold it. The calculator wore a pale white frame; time had erased all the numbers on the rubber buttons. She carried it to her father who nonchalantly nested it in the burrow of his left palm and punched on it methodically with his index finger. Just as a woodpecker pecking at a dead bark looks away in befuddlement, after flipping the calculator upside down, beating it against his palm, her father lifted his head to meet Renu’s eyes. He was about to tell her that it had lived its useful life. But her dark eyes had worn an expectant gaze, so he replaced the dead pencil cells with new ones and repeated the beating about. Ten minutes later, he drew the child closer, rested the calculator before her chin and pointed to the rectangular bloc...

Entrenched Prejudices taking the form of Patriotism

What a great way to celebrate the Independence Day? I am bemused, apparently owing to the wide exposure of emotional experiences hitherto seemed innocuous. Delve a little deep into the acquaintance with idea "patriotism", one will invariably be granted with an uncalled inquisition, one gets to stare at a disconcerting vacuum. Why do we brand ourselves with nations that are a mere collection of geographically propelled, culturally augmented, self aggrandizing people? Answer is elusive to many for the reasons best known to them hitherto for their own good are turning skeptical now. Man whom the evolutionists assert shares a common ancestor with chimps and gibbons, naturally after parting his ways with his cousins (chimps, gibbons) choose to retain a comprehensive emotional, physiological and mental disposition. Man, if he ever chooses to embark on a space ship that supposedly travels back in time is bound to diminish his self esteem owing to his impromptu urge to track his ance...