The End (Extract)

Quixotic I was, perhaps. I remember this particular night. You were in my arms and me in yours, feeling so snug. Red light glowed in my room, bathing us in a warm, amorous red illumination. Oh, how I despise this colour now. Anyway, there we were, entangled in peace and divine love. I recited you a poem. I know you remember this. It’s strange that when I was with you, I turned into a novice poet. No one else knew about this little poet in me, but you, my love. So you listened to my poem on that night. Rain sluiced languidly over the rooftop of my bungalow, a gentle caress of nature. It slithered down the windowpane as if in praise of our love. You absorbed every word and rhyme from my mouth. Then I saw it - the tear, like a tiny diamond on your eyelash. You cried and that touched my heart like it never did before. I kissed your tears dry. You cried because you felt the love. But sadly, it turned out that my love or poems couldn’t buy you clothes. My love or poems couldn’t pay your bills. They couldn’t take you to the movies or aristocratic restaurants. So, to hell with my love and poems! You decided to leave. 


Extract from my upcoming short story, 'The End.' Unlike 'Black Diamond,' which is an action-packed suspense thriller, 'The End' is a monologue, letter-style type of story. It's heavily emotional and touches on dense issues of a love-affair gone sour, feelings of dislocation, abandonment  and betrayal. It is also laden with political commentary told by a depressingly suicidal voice. 

I just completed this story and starting on another one titled 'Soldier Boy.' Keep watching this space. As a school teacher, a month-long vacation is a writing-vacation for me. I have to use it to the maximum! Peace and love to you...