Date: Tue, 9 Nov 1999 19:43:05 -0800 (PST) From: Tatva S Subject: Hut by a one-way lane Hut by a one-way lane. this is a partly true story.it is not sexually graphic.Pls send me your comments at tatva_xyz@yahoo.com The sanguine sun was merging in the sky like carmine blood smudging into an ivory white satin. Meer was lost into Dhruv's conversation.... The man he had fallen so madly in love with. The crowd was pulling in this Saturday evening and the tongas disturbed the ribbed wet sand... & cut the scent of the Arabian-salt in the breeze.... Dhruv was 6ft tall, bathed with Milk-white, slim. He had beautiful pendulous lips....and velvety-earlobes... A smile which betrayed the scent of sandalwood. Meer can still remember it, and it's been constant.. He would look Druv straight in the eyes, his cowrie-eyes, his burnt-sienna eyes...the eyes that held his naughtiness...childishness...His touch - electrical.. He had this effect on people, had a charm of sorts, this inborn god modeled from the Earth and yet that ethereal gloss. For a six times four guy, he was a gentlemen incarnate. A la Orlando from Will Shakespeare's "As You Like It". Someone who'd never attended gentlemen's school nor belonged to a strata of courts. This gentleness and simplicity were like Karnà's gifts T'was just three meetings now and Meer felt bliss. "How much I long to be with u Dhruv", he smiled to himself reclined on the windowsill. The pencil resting on his soft right ear. His window overlooked a huge playground. A beautiful place it was. Just 6 months had passed since his family moved in and the neighborhood was very placid. Away from town...away from the lacerating past.. The canvas was untouched....it was for him to select the colours...Now this sudden splash of cerise... A musical ripple in the pond.... The sunburnt summer, the cooing of the monsoon bird, sent vibrations in his body, "O Dhruv!" said Meer in himself. "I miss you!" he sulked within. They had not seen each other for 4 long months now due to Meer's examinations. It was only telephonic conversations. He had told Dhruv about his strong feelings for him, but Dhruv had gone through bad times and he had broken up with his boyfriend just some months ago, so he didn't want to fall into another relationship so soon. Also Meer wanted him to take his time... give him some space..... Meer was jus five times four. He stood 5'11" well carved and shaped, tanned an awesome terracotta brown, a masterpiece by nature's workshop. He was a dreamer...& had a very fertile mind towards the arts and literature. He was just exploring his sexuality. He was not into philandering and wanted Dhruv so desperately, yearning for his love. One night Meer found out that Dhruv was seeing another man... His heart sank and he felt like a broken Sitar wire- plucked by a fragile finger.. He felt that 'the last leaf' was hanging there, clinging to the mossy wall in the storm, ALONE...He lay on the lower of the bunk bed, with a dim red bulb deafening the moonlight. Took an ink pen and scribbled --- "Has everything concluded?" I asked. "Has nothing that never was, concluded?"his tears answered his anger. "Oh! Why is it that you love?" asked Cupid. "I've already quit my job", he added. "T'is something you never wanna know", "Lady Aphrodite, mademoiselle Passion N Lust -they know not why it happens either, so how would you the -blind knave ever know?" I cried. Time ambled away- months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds...Monsoon was the season,,, the season of fertility in the swamps, the season of the Peafowl in his exotic colors caught in a rain dance. Meer had many a mint-scented memories confederated with this Oh so romantic season... the cascades he had stood under while at excursions...the glazed-paper boats in the garden drain...the walks at queens necklace, with the spurts n sprays from the Arabian sea ..He was so lost in the wet earth and the miniature waterfalls from the roof of his house...A wet zeenai with the yellow pollen and the Magenta petals, gave this Smile to him. But Meer plucked the flower and dissected its petals with messy hair and anger reddening his eyes which finally gave up to tears... Dhruv smiled as he walked with Meer towards his room. The house was getting a new tuxedo, as the masons, carpenters and painters were on work. They sat on his bed and started to chitchat and occasionally Meer looked into his eyes, it felt like nothing had changed, that the peafowl feather lay there still marking the same page...But He controlled himself, "he is mine no more.... He never was." He was like an olive tree, which grew on the other side of the wall, a little shade on the blades of papyrus and Meer left he was his.... But so was his shade on the brook ... He never was mine...., he reasoned. They just talked of general things, Meer was trying so hard to stab those tidal waves banging against the gates of his heart. The ire, and the mask bearing a 'I've got over u' look topped with a plastic smile. They walked together towards a moor, a rather secluded piece of land...and then a walk back... It was goodbye-time. Meer got on the Coupon punching machine and then to the train back home with this wincing pain inside his heart. Meer questioned himself,,,, as to what lacked in him...The typical dejected soul that he had become. The flow of tears had become such a normal thing to him. Just one thought of Dhruv and it felt as if a million drawing pins pierced him at one go. He walked into the gallery and could feel the rain drops seeping through his white kurta‡.. The cool wind was wheezing through his sides... He sat down on the cool Italian-marble in ardhà-padmasanà‡‡ and gently closed his eyes with his head tilted towards the heavens and his lips a little apart . Thinking about all that had transpired.... The strong fragrance of the lukewarm coffee from the kitchen brought him out of his dhyaan mode. His maa handed the mug to him. Back to the balcony sipping coffee he cupped his tongue out to taste the rain... a mix of the hot and cool...Looking out in blankness.. drowning his problems in caffeine. This night was clear and placid and the crescent of Diana (moon) was relaxing in her couch of fluffy clouds and the bed was set there, 'midst the tube rose. Meer brought the Blue Nile cocktail . The curtains were dancing in the zephyr. Druv took the glass in his hand, and smiled that beautiful smile of his, took a sip and pulled Meer gently towards himself and planted a kiss on his lips. Meer came closer and kissed passionately, breathed warm air on Druv's upper lip. Mouth's opened, tongues entwined..... the bed linens tossed ...... They made love for the first time... T'was dawn and the sky was a prussian blue with the moon still smiling on Druv's left arm. Meer kissed his neck and buried his face in Druv's soft-wavy hair, which smelt like balsam. Druv gently opened his eyes and looked into Meer's, kissed his forehead and said, "I love you Meer". Druv's happiness shone in his sparkling eyes, as he brought his mouth next to Meer's, closed his eyes and kissed him on his lips again....and they hugged each other ..... It seemed like Meer had achieved what he wanted, his love.... But as dawn deceased, so did his dream... The mist over the lake had cleared and there lied the log of cypress, almost stationary... in this dead lake of life. There was no such night...no courtship.... T'was just a dream.. Meer sighed, picked the lone tear by the ring finger, gave it a glance and flicked it in the dusty compartment, looked out of the window, smiled and put back his glasses down into the Science Journal as the train gained momentum..... Here I am again... trying to make sense to him, trying to not hate him... trying to say "maybe I was wrong:" to myself, but when I try to question what made me want to be his.. It burns down to superficial features and gestures.. I tried to fathom him...but his clearness kept on getting muddy as I delved deeper.. I tried to be his friend. He hates me now!!! ... And I still have a soft corner for him...even after all those dreams I dreamt, those sleepless-nights, those wet pillow covers. I kept giving love.. He kept silent I kept receiving... he kept giving: abuses.. I have always loved him... "A lucid, modest, humble soul, A beautiful vine covered castle, Each time your name pass my lips there is a strange coolness like mint that fills my deha°° A smile crosses my face, So earthly and yet so divine, Your simplicity awes me. You don't need no showy features to attract your mate Cause your beauty reflects in your simplicity... Like a mirror reflects every truth Be my mirror, I want to drown in your everlasting youth See myself in You. Breath you. Love you..." This is what I felt for him even when I knew he's having a relationship with someone. But now Meer is tired and yet unloved. but I realise now that I FELL in love, I didn't Rise.. I'm frightened of dreams now.. frightened to love.. Is there love? I ain't an angel anymore, I've had Coitus... never made Love...in the end of which I thought it would be more than just sex... but there was no 'more'. All I see now is my teddy bear sitting there on my bed; old, rugged, but with that welcoming smile, which asks me "how u been big-man?" Glossary °kurta- a long shirt-like top with side slits and long sleeves. °°ardhà-padmasanà- A yogic aasana in which one sits cross legged with one leg resting on the other thigh. *dhyaan- concentration **deha-body Copyright -Tatva.S