NOTE: This story is not based on my life. Resemblance to any person living or death is purely co-incidental.
Here was Paradise. Muriel could sense the call of the unknown, and the aura of holiness in the dark abyss. She could feel the swish of an ancient snake along the silent wheat field; the splash of sea-gulls encircling a pellucid lake. Her tranquil eyes spotted a blessed soul guiding her to the path of enlightenment. Anxiety waned; eyes shone; spirit was wafted along by the breeze.
The setting sun stole her gaze. She kept staring at the horizon until it blended into darkness. Twilight etched a frame around her careless tresses. Her soul took a flight with the birds, soared higher and higher.
“You have beautiful, sparkling eyes!” Younis said. For the first time since they had sat at the terrace of Vincent’s house, she flashed her smile at Younis. Returning an assured smile, he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the floor.
How did twenty-year old, college-going girl Muriel land up with a stranger from Iran? How could an innocent visage reveal the battered soul within- the sudden plunge into a relationship with her classmate- Jean, the disastrous outcome of it?
She was burdened with the discordant nature of her body and soul. When she arrived at Vincent’s place needing empathetic ears for few hours before waking up to harsh daybreak, she felt puny with the baggages of the past. At one of her weakest moments, she had not thought twice about relying on her wise, erudite college-friend- Vincent.
Muriel would seek solace in Vincent’s company for a while. It was necessary to share her unhappiness given the inner turmoil that left her with sleepless nights. How could anyone otherwise guess that her nights were now spent sitting by Jean’s photos?
Sitting on the balcony of Vincent’s house, she saw the brightness of the noon and made up her mind. Within moments Vincent was deluged with tales of her love, fights and heart-break. He had resumed his intense look throughout, oblivious to everything else; as if he read her mind perfectly and saw through her desires.
Within days of joining college Vincent had become well known for his erudition and charming manners- the stuff the intelligentsias are made of. The professors would discuss issues with him outside classroom, as would the cute girls. He could quote Derrida, Foucault, Freud with élan and he would spend his off-hours staring into nothingness, lost in thoughts. One isn’t a thinker unless one is lost. Impressed, Muriel shared her lost self with him.
In distress she needed a friend- one who would show her the right path and yet not get judgmental. In Vincent, she had found both, along with the fact that he did not know her lover Jean.
She told Vincent about the brief romance with Jean in the heady days of Paris and their escapades to the mysterious hills and bohemian shacks. Every day she would wait to be in his arms or simply hear his voice- telling him to convince his flat-mates and call her over to his house. For days, the small apartment took the centre stage to the story of Muriel and Jean. The apartment waited for the lovers to return; the bed held its breath as they made passionate love; the nights spun one yarn after another.
Even now she could recall every word Jean had ever spoken to her. She could see his grey eyes and lanky frame- receding hairline and sharp facial profile. The taste of his body still lingered on her tongue and the earthy smell. He had bought French perfume for her body and silver anklets from the shop of ‘love & senses’ at Montparnasse road. Under the star-spangled sky, he had vowed to become her husband and promised to have their children as they held hands and strolled along the snow-covered pine trees.
Paris winter had turned the love-birds homebound creatures. They kept at home, romanced yet disagreed on a lot of issues related to their attitude towards life. Initially, the fights that started like tinkling of glasses turned into yells leading to over-turning tables and chairs around. “You are a selfish person and you are incapable of going beyond yourself to care for others.” Jean would tell her. Muriel had grown tired of the constant comparisons drawn with Jean’s ex-lover, Carla. For the longest time the thought of Carla, her romantic involvement with Jean, made her miserable. She was tormented by her own sense of possessiveness for Jean that burdened her ‘being’ immensely.
“Ahh! I see. You were like a wet nurse to him,” Vincent said in a contemplative tone.
Muriel felt too weak to reply. “Calm down. You must meet Younis.” He was Vincent’s flat-mate from Iran.
Vincent described how his Iranian mate had changed his life for good. Association with Younis was the turning point in his life, the daily influences of which culminated into a larger journey. How else to account for the phase, during the bitter winter of the earlier year, when he salvaged his de-fragmented self? The exercise demanded a lot of himself; returning to the core of every issue and getting connected with the cosmic universe. It meant staring at the millions of stars floating below him; feeling the early morning avalanche floating down his spine. “Like taking you to the edge of the cliff and expect you to plunge in. And you should not be scared because you will slowly feel the lightness. Younis will hold your hand and guide you through the journey of enlightenment.” Vincent finished his epic tale of the spiritual guru; the late afternoon shaft of light illuminated all that was jaded and dead.
Muriel woke with a start as she made a move towards the terrace, darting her eyes to spot him in the dazzling glow of sun, fixing her frightened gaze on her soul. He struck her as an alien with his stately gaze, arched eyebrows. Without a word exchanged between the two, they seemed to know each other. Only the creaking door reminded her of her plight, swaying gently in the breeze as she sat opposite to him.
“It’s a tough journey which could leave you completely drained,” Younis had said after a moment’s silence. “It would mean completely adhering to what I say. A kind of submission of your self to seek enlightenment.” She resumed her intent look as he said how she would have to disentangle from her friends and relations for a few months. The entire journey would require a certain re-orchestration of life- to be uncluttered in thoughts and actions. This would mean donating all that she earned by free-lancing with the national newspapers to charity. “At times, your life might seem completely frozen,” he had said. She did not want to lose her will and ignore her chance of spiritual fulfillment. What if it really showed her the path to independence and bliss?
Following the spiritual guru, Muriel had stepped into the guru’s room to spend the evening with him. She had abided by his instruction to spend time with him discussing her life and miseries. The initial advice to spend an entire evening and night was not possible for obvious reasons. On their way to his room, she saw Vincent in the living room and shot a friendly glance at him. He returned a sheepish grin and continued watching television.
Now alone with her in the room and asking her to share her anxiety, he switched off the brass lamp. She woke with a start, spotted the nervous rat hiding behind the dressing-unit, as a cat growled on the balcony sensing its prey. Younis lit a cigarette as she furnished details about her ‘affair’.
“Now, I have to set a slightly difficult task for you. You need to completely extricate yourself from your past, worries of future and be in unison with me,” Younis said in a nonchalant manner. Her subdued expression reflected a naïve submission. Yet she could not fully comprehend the meaning of his words. “I need to understand a woman’s instinct to be able to guide her through a life-changing journey. This requires the unison of two souls and bodies.”
The trial was indeed draining her strength, she heard herself pleading. I cannot make love with you……… How could she do this with anyone but her lover? She saw his firm expression, unable to fathom his mind in the darkness. Only physical involvement, not necessarily love-making- She heard him whisper over and over- could show her the light.
There was a sudden lull in the air. It made the noise of the rat even more pronounced. She had risen from her perch as if in a trance. Through the haze of outside lights, Yunis saw the naked body of a woman. Only a slight frown played on the foreboding calm on her face. She felt his breath, his hand on the nape of her neck. She looked into the eyes of the spiritual guru and for a moment her eyes went blank.
She rose to consciousness before anything could happen. She’d made up her mind and felt that it was too big a price to pay for her unearthly pursuit. While slipping into her dress, she could hear the spiritual guru chuckle. There was a moment’s silence, and then he said in a low voice- “It’s your call. Do not speak about this to anyone outside. People will think you to be crazy!” A shaft of light from outside illuminated the ‘laughing buddha’ in the room as she stormed out of the room- the rat disappeared into a dark hole.
Meghna Maiti
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here was Paradise. Muriel could sense the call of the unknown, and the aura of holiness in the dark abyss. She could feel the swish of an ancient snake along the silent wheat field; the splash of sea-gulls encircling a pellucid lake. Her tranquil eyes spotted a blessed soul guiding her to the path of enlightenment. Anxiety waned; eyes shone; spirit was wafted along by the breeze.
The setting sun stole her gaze. She kept staring at the horizon until it blended into darkness. Twilight etched a frame around her careless tresses. Her soul took a flight with the birds, soared higher and higher.
“You have beautiful, sparkling eyes!” Younis said. For the first time since they had sat at the terrace of Vincent’s house, she flashed her smile at Younis. Returning an assured smile, he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the floor.
How did twenty-year old, college-going girl Muriel land up with a stranger from Iran? How could an innocent visage reveal the battered soul within- the sudden plunge into a relationship with her classmate- Jean, the disastrous outcome of it?
She was burdened with the discordant nature of her body and soul. When she arrived at Vincent’s place needing empathetic ears for few hours before waking up to harsh daybreak, she felt puny with the baggages of the past. At one of her weakest moments, she had not thought twice about relying on her wise, erudite college-friend- Vincent.
Muriel would seek solace in Vincent’s company for a while. It was necessary to share her unhappiness given the inner turmoil that left her with sleepless nights. How could anyone otherwise guess that her nights were now spent sitting by Jean’s photos?
Sitting on the balcony of Vincent’s house, she saw the brightness of the noon and made up her mind. Within moments Vincent was deluged with tales of her love, fights and heart-break. He had resumed his intense look throughout, oblivious to everything else; as if he read her mind perfectly and saw through her desires.
Within days of joining college Vincent had become well known for his erudition and charming manners- the stuff the intelligentsias are made of. The professors would discuss issues with him outside classroom, as would the cute girls. He could quote Derrida, Foucault, Freud with élan and he would spend his off-hours staring into nothingness, lost in thoughts. One isn’t a thinker unless one is lost. Impressed, Muriel shared her lost self with him.
In distress she needed a friend- one who would show her the right path and yet not get judgmental. In Vincent, she had found both, along with the fact that he did not know her lover Jean.
She told Vincent about the brief romance with Jean in the heady days of Paris and their escapades to the mysterious hills and bohemian shacks. Every day she would wait to be in his arms or simply hear his voice- telling him to convince his flat-mates and call her over to his house. For days, the small apartment took the centre stage to the story of Muriel and Jean. The apartment waited for the lovers to return; the bed held its breath as they made passionate love; the nights spun one yarn after another.
Even now she could recall every word Jean had ever spoken to her. She could see his grey eyes and lanky frame- receding hairline and sharp facial profile. The taste of his body still lingered on her tongue and the earthy smell. He had bought French perfume for her body and silver anklets from the shop of ‘love & senses’ at Montparnasse road. Under the star-spangled sky, he had vowed to become her husband and promised to have their children as they held hands and strolled along the snow-covered pine trees.
Paris winter had turned the love-birds homebound creatures. They kept at home, romanced yet disagreed on a lot of issues related to their attitude towards life. Initially, the fights that started like tinkling of glasses turned into yells leading to over-turning tables and chairs around. “You are a selfish person and you are incapable of going beyond yourself to care for others.” Jean would tell her. Muriel had grown tired of the constant comparisons drawn with Jean’s ex-lover, Carla. For the longest time the thought of Carla, her romantic involvement with Jean, made her miserable. She was tormented by her own sense of possessiveness for Jean that burdened her ‘being’ immensely.
“Ahh! I see. You were like a wet nurse to him,” Vincent said in a contemplative tone.
Muriel felt too weak to reply. “Calm down. You must meet Younis.” He was Vincent’s flat-mate from Iran.
Vincent described how his Iranian mate had changed his life for good. Association with Younis was the turning point in his life, the daily influences of which culminated into a larger journey. How else to account for the phase, during the bitter winter of the earlier year, when he salvaged his de-fragmented self? The exercise demanded a lot of himself; returning to the core of every issue and getting connected with the cosmic universe. It meant staring at the millions of stars floating below him; feeling the early morning avalanche floating down his spine. “Like taking you to the edge of the cliff and expect you to plunge in. And you should not be scared because you will slowly feel the lightness. Younis will hold your hand and guide you through the journey of enlightenment.” Vincent finished his epic tale of the spiritual guru; the late afternoon shaft of light illuminated all that was jaded and dead.
Muriel woke with a start as she made a move towards the terrace, darting her eyes to spot him in the dazzling glow of sun, fixing her frightened gaze on her soul. He struck her as an alien with his stately gaze, arched eyebrows. Without a word exchanged between the two, they seemed to know each other. Only the creaking door reminded her of her plight, swaying gently in the breeze as she sat opposite to him.
“It’s a tough journey which could leave you completely drained,” Younis had said after a moment’s silence. “It would mean completely adhering to what I say. A kind of submission of your self to seek enlightenment.” She resumed her intent look as he said how she would have to disentangle from her friends and relations for a few months. The entire journey would require a certain re-orchestration of life- to be uncluttered in thoughts and actions. This would mean donating all that she earned by free-lancing with the national newspapers to charity. “At times, your life might seem completely frozen,” he had said. She did not want to lose her will and ignore her chance of spiritual fulfillment. What if it really showed her the path to independence and bliss?
Following the spiritual guru, Muriel had stepped into the guru’s room to spend the evening with him. She had abided by his instruction to spend time with him discussing her life and miseries. The initial advice to spend an entire evening and night was not possible for obvious reasons. On their way to his room, she saw Vincent in the living room and shot a friendly glance at him. He returned a sheepish grin and continued watching television.
Now alone with her in the room and asking her to share her anxiety, he switched off the brass lamp. She woke with a start, spotted the nervous rat hiding behind the dressing-unit, as a cat growled on the balcony sensing its prey. Younis lit a cigarette as she furnished details about her ‘affair’.
“Now, I have to set a slightly difficult task for you. You need to completely extricate yourself from your past, worries of future and be in unison with me,” Younis said in a nonchalant manner. Her subdued expression reflected a naïve submission. Yet she could not fully comprehend the meaning of his words. “I need to understand a woman’s instinct to be able to guide her through a life-changing journey. This requires the unison of two souls and bodies.”
The trial was indeed draining her strength, she heard herself pleading. I cannot make love with you……… How could she do this with anyone but her lover? She saw his firm expression, unable to fathom his mind in the darkness. Only physical involvement, not necessarily love-making- She heard him whisper over and over- could show her the light.
There was a sudden lull in the air. It made the noise of the rat even more pronounced. She had risen from her perch as if in a trance. Through the haze of outside lights, Yunis saw the naked body of a woman. Only a slight frown played on the foreboding calm on her face. She felt his breath, his hand on the nape of her neck. She looked into the eyes of the spiritual guru and for a moment her eyes went blank.
She rose to consciousness before anything could happen. She’d made up her mind and felt that it was too big a price to pay for her unearthly pursuit. While slipping into her dress, she could hear the spiritual guru chuckle. There was a moment’s silence, and then he said in a low voice- “It’s your call. Do not speak about this to anyone outside. People will think you to be crazy!” A shaft of light from outside illuminated the ‘laughing buddha’ in the room as she stormed out of the room- the rat disappeared into a dark hole.
Meghna Maiti
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