Saptarshi Basu's Blog, page 13
November 6, 2012
THE AWAKENING OF RUDRA
The RUDRA
Trilogy
THE
AWAKENING OF RUDRA
BOOK 3 OF RUDRA Trilogy
What if 'AMAR KATHA' Lord
Shiva's doctrine of Immortality was in written form ? Depicted by some secret
symbols ? then...
Lord Shiva, the Destroyer, the
Creator, the Protector.
God of all Gods. King of the
Ganas. He had prophesied the life of every living being millions and millions
of years before. He had fought many a war to drive away the force of greed,
hatred and corruption.
Will HE REAPPEAR TO SAVE THE
WORLD?
Its 2020 now…
The CERN Large Hadron
Collider is about to unravel a dark secret on the mystery of matter.
An ancient Mayan formula
on electronic tablets echoes a warning of events in future.
Only the ONE can save
the world.
Lord Shiva….
As per Mayan Calendar, the world is running in the
Age of Aquarius and on Dec. 21, 2012, the day of the annual winter solstice,
the Sun will rise roughly over the center of the Milky Way galaxy which may
lead to the end of the world. They say it will start on Dec. 12, 2012 and
everything will be destroyed by Dec. 21, 2012 in period of 9 days.
For now we know 2012 it’s a hoax!!!
The Mayans recorded time in a series of cycles,
including 400-year chunks called baktuns. It's these baktuns that have led to
rumors of an end-of-the-world catastrophe on Dec. 21, 2012 — on that date, a
cycle of 13 baktuns will be complete. But the idea that this means the end of
the world is a misconception. In fact, Maya experts have known for a long time
that the calendar doesn't end after the 13th baktun. It simply begins a new
cycle. And the calendar encompasses much larger units than the baktun.
Who were the Mayans? How did they
predict a start of a new cycle?
Did Rig Veda talked about Mayans?
As per Vedic literature, The end of the world is prophesied
to happen at the end of the Kali Yuga.
So, when will the world end?
The
One who carries the blue blood in his veins has the secret to awaken Rudra.
The
prince who had forgotten it all! The
last Naga Prince on earth!
In
a compelling mythological thriller, blended by history, spiced by legend and
transformed by myth, the painting of Blue Mountains and Rudra’s tears are the
only key to awaken the greatest Lord on earth…
WILL THE WORLD REALLY END?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
READ SAPTARSHI BASU'S FIRST NOVEL
- AUTUMN IN MY HEART
PUBLISHED BY TIMES GROUP ( TIMES OF INDIA)
ONLINE IN AMAZON - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009D6PJTY
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
BOOK 3 OF RUDRA Trilogy
This is the BOOK 3 of RUDRA trilogy
BOOK 1 is - SECRET OF THE
IMMORTAL CODE
BOOK 2 is - THE CURSE OF NAGAS
Book 3 is - The Awakening of RUDRA
October 28, 2012
THE CURSE OF THE NAGAS
BOOK 2 OF THE - SECRET OF IMMORTAL CODE
The curse will now wreck havoc on the NAGAs!
Lord Shiva came to know about the theft of Rudrapallam by
Visvasphani, the Naga commander of Vasuki. The Naga king of Ashtapada, Vasuki
is called by Shiva and the tribe is banished to Earth.
WHAT IF 'AMAR KATHA' LORD SHIVA'S DOCTRINE OF IMMORTALITY
NARRATED TO GODDESS PARVATI WAS IN WRITTEN FORM ? DEPICTED THROUGH SECRET
SYMBOLS? THEN....
In a compelling mythological thriller, blended by history,
spiced by legend and transformed by myth, Saptarshi Basu converts his research
into Vedic literature and Indian mythology into a gripping thriller.
We all had loved THE DA VINCI CODE by Dan Brown. Our very
own ancient mythology holds the greatest secrets and brightest discoveries.
The exciting symbols of Hindu mythology contains the
deepest secret.THE SECRET OF IMMORTAL CODE will slowly unearth those mysteries
and take you to the truth about the Nagas in BOOK 2 - THE CURSE OF THE NAGAS
Edward Nolan needs
to save Andy, his son from Coma. Only Bhadraka, the Naadi headman and Dr. K.N.
Sanjeev can help him to break the code.
The secret Nagalkal is the only hope for them.
What is the real truth of the Nagas?
Was lord Rama's son Kusha married a Naga princess and thus carried the Ikshvaku Dynastry forward?
Will the AHI-UPALA solves the mystery of Mystical Marriage ?
How will Nolan save his son from the Curse?
There was no escaping from the curse. Lord Shiva could see
that the boy was not dead but in deep sleep. Nothing can bring him back to life
except... the One who carries the blue blood in his veins.
The prince who had forgotten it all!
The
last Naga Prince on earth!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
READ SAPTARSHI BASU'S FIRST NOVEL
- AUTUMN IN MY HEART
PUBLISHED BY TIMES GROUP ( TIMES OF INDIA)
ONLINE IN AMAZON - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009D6PJTY
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
THE
CURSE OF THE NAGAS
PROLOGUE
A fine, sunny day it was.
Plumes of blue clouds were
shadowing the buzzing street. A beautiful boy with black cropped hair was happily
cycling in midst of the street. Andy. His school was over by now and on his way
back he whistled a happy tune. Jaya had introduced him to many such beautiful
songs. Unknown to him, a grey car was menacing down the road. Andy remembered
the happy faces of his parents and smiled. How much he loved them.
The driver
was busy talking on his mobile phone.
The BMW was now on its own. Andy had one
complain though with his dad. How frequently he had to change school and
frowned at the very thought of it. Every time he makes new friends, he had to
leave them and go for some other school at a totally new place.
Suddenly, the
driver looked up from his mobile and shrieked. Andy was just a few hands away.
The driver fanatically held the steering and applied brakes with all his
effort. The brakes were not working! He cried out and shouted. Andy was now
very close. The steering was taking its own way. Surprised, he pressed the
brake madly.
But nothing was working.
The driver could clearly feel an
invisible force controlling his car. Frightened and tensed, he tried to open
the window and shout at the boy. Nothing was working. The automatic windows
didn’t open. The car was totally out of his control.
The brakes although pressed had not stopped the car!
Everyone screamed loudly. With a shrieking sound the car
scratched all along the road and hit Andy. Brakes…noises, shouts…blood goosing
out… suddenly all went dark.
It was evening now. Nolan looked outside the window. Andy
had gone to school as usual. The sun was about to set. Dark clouds were slowly
gathering on the eastern corner of the sky. He knew there was no escape from
the curse.
Will
the Immortal code save my Andy today, he thought.
Suddenly the phone rang.
The curse, that goddamn curse! It has started working.
And...Nolan thought...only one man on the
whole earth knew how to be freed from the curse. It was time, felt Nolan. To
seek him.
Bhadraka tossed and turned in his bed. The head of Naadi
family was having trouble with his sleep. He woke up and went for the glass of
water kept by his bedside. He switched on the lights and looked at the
calendar.
The
curse was about to happen!
He felt weak in his limbs. Bhadraka reached at the feet of
the miniature idol kept on his table. His hands shaked violently as he offered
his prayers to Lord Shiva. Bhadraka felt his time was slowly corroding away.
The secret needs to be protected for future generations. The Valluvars’s
tradition should go on and on. They were Shiva’s men .The tradition started by
Thiruvalluvan and carried from generations to generations.
Suddenly a face flashed in his mind!
Yes, it should be him and no one else. The successor to the
secret. The successor to the Naadi family. But why he will ever come here,
thought the old man. Even at the coldness of the night he was profusely
sweating.
Then Bhadraka smiled.
He could now see the future. The curse will surely bring him here!
The screen was now working on the inputs. Nolan pressed the
screen and gave his inputs as fast as possible.
Monday: 7:30 - 9:00 AM; Tuesday: 15:00 - 16:30 PM;
Wednesday: 12:00 - 13:30 PM; Thursday: 13:30 - 15:00 PM; Friday: 10:30 - 12:00
AM; Saturday: 9:00 - 10:30 AM; Sunday: 16:30 - 18:00 PM
The immortal code will not work during these north node
times.
What date is tomorrow?
Nolan hysterically checked and found
that it was a Sunday.
Nolan stopped for a moment. And then he smiled. Sun is the
ruler of Zodiac Sun Leo. Andy’s zodiac sign.
The
code might save Andy from the curse!
He took the glass in his hand .Suddenly a violent
convulsion inside his body shook him and he started coughing. It was intense.
Dr. Sanjeev threw phlegm of blood on the basin. Terrified at the sight of
blood, his whole body was trembling. Again, the convulsion happened. This time,
more blood came out. His head was reeling. Still shaking he looked for some
support. His cotton shirt, stark white was now covered with blood. It was
oozing out from the corner of his mouth. Dr. Sanjeev collapsed on the bathroom
floor.
The
curse has started working on him!
Mount Kailash looked serene.
Lord Shiva was in deep meditation. The
colours of the evening was those of a depressing dusk, plumes of snow blown
high by the storms at the summit of Mount Kailash. Ethereal mist moving like a
giant eagle across the great flanks of the mountain casted a demonic shadow on
the nearby lake Manasarowar.
The storm was coming.
Closing his eyes, Lord Shiva was deeply immersed in
meditation. His unclad body was covered with ashes. The Lord is the source of
entire universe which emanates from Him. His matted locks played in the gushing
wind. His trident stood firmly by His side. Slowly the Lord opened his eyes and
smiled.
The curse was now working on earth!
He felt sorry for the little boy .But then the order of
life should always be followed. Visvasphani has been properly punished along
with the Nagas. The Lord felt sorry for Vasuki but then nothing much was in His
hand. He had always fought for greed and falsity. The forces of evil needs to
be crushed. The banishment of the Nagas was inescapable.
Their banishment to
earth.
There was no escaping from the curse. Lord Shiva could see
that the boy was not dead but in deep sleep. Nothing can bring him back to life
except... the One who carries the blue blood in his veins.
The prince who had forgotten it all!
The
last Naga Prince on earth!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
READ SAPTARSHI BASU'S FIRST NOVEL
- AUTUMN IN MY HEART
PUBLISHED BY TIMES GROUP ( TIMES OF INDIA)
ONLINE IN AMAZON - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009D6PJTY
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
The curse will now wreck havoc on the NAGAs!
Lord Shiva came to know about the theft of Rudrapallam by
Visvasphani, the Naga commander of Vasuki. The Naga king of Ashtapada, Vasuki
is called by Shiva and the tribe is banished to Earth.
WHAT IF 'AMAR KATHA' LORD SHIVA'S DOCTRINE OF IMMORTALITY
NARRATED TO GODDESS PARVATI WAS IN WRITTEN FORM ? DEPICTED THROUGH SECRET
SYMBOLS? THEN....
In a compelling mythological thriller, blended by history,
spiced by legend and transformed by myth, Saptarshi Basu converts his research
into Vedic literature and Indian mythology into a gripping thriller.
We all had loved THE DA VINCI CODE by Dan Brown. Our very
own ancient mythology holds the greatest secrets and brightest discoveries.
The exciting symbols of Hindu mythology contains the
deepest secret.THE SECRET OF IMMORTAL CODE will slowly unearth those mysteries
and take you to the truth about the Nagas in BOOK 2 - THE CURSE OF THE NAGAS
Edward Nolan needs
to save Andy, his son from Coma. Only Bhadraka, the Naadi headman and Dr. K.N.
Sanjeev can help him to break the code.
The secret Nagalkal is the only hope for them.
What is the real truth of the Nagas?
Was lord Rama's son Kusha married a Naga princess and thus carried the Ikshvaku Dynastry forward?
Will the AHI-UPALA solves the mystery of Mystical Marriage ?
How will Nolan save his son from the Curse?
There was no escaping from the curse. Lord Shiva could see
that the boy was not dead but in deep sleep. Nothing can bring him back to life
except... the One who carries the blue blood in his veins.
The prince who had forgotten it all!
The
last Naga Prince on earth!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
READ SAPTARSHI BASU'S FIRST NOVEL
- AUTUMN IN MY HEART
PUBLISHED BY TIMES GROUP ( TIMES OF INDIA)
ONLINE IN AMAZON - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009D6PJTY
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
THE
CURSE OF THE NAGAS
PROLOGUE
A fine, sunny day it was.
Plumes of blue clouds were
shadowing the buzzing street. A beautiful boy with black cropped hair was happily
cycling in midst of the street. Andy. His school was over by now and on his way
back he whistled a happy tune. Jaya had introduced him to many such beautiful
songs. Unknown to him, a grey car was menacing down the road. Andy remembered
the happy faces of his parents and smiled. How much he loved them.
The driver
was busy talking on his mobile phone.
The BMW was now on its own. Andy had one
complain though with his dad. How frequently he had to change school and
frowned at the very thought of it. Every time he makes new friends, he had to
leave them and go for some other school at a totally new place.
Suddenly, the
driver looked up from his mobile and shrieked. Andy was just a few hands away.
The driver fanatically held the steering and applied brakes with all his
effort. The brakes were not working! He cried out and shouted. Andy was now
very close. The steering was taking its own way. Surprised, he pressed the
brake madly.
But nothing was working.
The driver could clearly feel an
invisible force controlling his car. Frightened and tensed, he tried to open
the window and shout at the boy. Nothing was working. The automatic windows
didn’t open. The car was totally out of his control.
The brakes although pressed had not stopped the car!
Everyone screamed loudly. With a shrieking sound the car
scratched all along the road and hit Andy. Brakes…noises, shouts…blood goosing
out… suddenly all went dark.
It was evening now. Nolan looked outside the window. Andy
had gone to school as usual. The sun was about to set. Dark clouds were slowly
gathering on the eastern corner of the sky. He knew there was no escape from
the curse.
Will
the Immortal code save my Andy today, he thought.
Suddenly the phone rang.
The curse, that goddamn curse! It has started working.
And...Nolan thought...only one man on the
whole earth knew how to be freed from the curse. It was time, felt Nolan. To
seek him.
Bhadraka tossed and turned in his bed. The head of Naadi
family was having trouble with his sleep. He woke up and went for the glass of
water kept by his bedside. He switched on the lights and looked at the
calendar.
The
curse was about to happen!
He felt weak in his limbs. Bhadraka reached at the feet of
the miniature idol kept on his table. His hands shaked violently as he offered
his prayers to Lord Shiva. Bhadraka felt his time was slowly corroding away.
The secret needs to be protected for future generations. The Valluvars’s
tradition should go on and on. They were Shiva’s men .The tradition started by
Thiruvalluvan and carried from generations to generations.
Suddenly a face flashed in his mind!
Yes, it should be him and no one else. The successor to the
secret. The successor to the Naadi family. But why he will ever come here,
thought the old man. Even at the coldness of the night he was profusely
sweating.
Then Bhadraka smiled.
He could now see the future. The curse will surely bring him here!
The screen was now working on the inputs. Nolan pressed the
screen and gave his inputs as fast as possible.
Monday: 7:30 - 9:00 AM; Tuesday: 15:00 - 16:30 PM;
Wednesday: 12:00 - 13:30 PM; Thursday: 13:30 - 15:00 PM; Friday: 10:30 - 12:00
AM; Saturday: 9:00 - 10:30 AM; Sunday: 16:30 - 18:00 PM
The immortal code will not work during these north node
times.
What date is tomorrow?
Nolan hysterically checked and found
that it was a Sunday.
Nolan stopped for a moment. And then he smiled. Sun is the
ruler of Zodiac Sun Leo. Andy’s zodiac sign.
The
code might save Andy from the curse!
He took the glass in his hand .Suddenly a violent
convulsion inside his body shook him and he started coughing. It was intense.
Dr. Sanjeev threw phlegm of blood on the basin. Terrified at the sight of
blood, his whole body was trembling. Again, the convulsion happened. This time,
more blood came out. His head was reeling. Still shaking he looked for some
support. His cotton shirt, stark white was now covered with blood. It was
oozing out from the corner of his mouth. Dr. Sanjeev collapsed on the bathroom
floor.
The
curse has started working on him!
Mount Kailash looked serene.
Lord Shiva was in deep meditation. The
colours of the evening was those of a depressing dusk, plumes of snow blown
high by the storms at the summit of Mount Kailash. Ethereal mist moving like a
giant eagle across the great flanks of the mountain casted a demonic shadow on
the nearby lake Manasarowar.
The storm was coming.
Closing his eyes, Lord Shiva was deeply immersed in
meditation. His unclad body was covered with ashes. The Lord is the source of
entire universe which emanates from Him. His matted locks played in the gushing
wind. His trident stood firmly by His side. Slowly the Lord opened his eyes and
smiled.
The curse was now working on earth!
He felt sorry for the little boy .But then the order of
life should always be followed. Visvasphani has been properly punished along
with the Nagas. The Lord felt sorry for Vasuki but then nothing much was in His
hand. He had always fought for greed and falsity. The forces of evil needs to
be crushed. The banishment of the Nagas was inescapable.
Their banishment to
earth.
There was no escaping from the curse. Lord Shiva could see
that the boy was not dead but in deep sleep. Nothing can bring him back to life
except... the One who carries the blue blood in his veins.
The prince who had forgotten it all!
The
last Naga Prince on earth!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
READ SAPTARSHI BASU'S FIRST NOVEL
- AUTUMN IN MY HEART
PUBLISHED BY TIMES GROUP ( TIMES OF INDIA)
ONLINE IN AMAZON - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009D6PJTY
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------||
September 14, 2012
THE SECRET OF THE IMMORTAL CODE
WILL HIT BOOKSTORES NEXT YEAR!!!
Rudrapallam , the carrier of secret, the secret of immortality, Lord Shiva’s Naadi leaf was now gone!
Shiva, the Destroyer, the Creator, the Protector. God of all Gods. King of the Ganas. He had to sacrifice many a life protecting the code from the demons, the Asuras. The Rudrapallam. The Immortal Code .
The Valluvars - Shiva’s men have been protecting the secret for centuries.
And now in this twenty-first century Bala, son of the headman of the Nadi family Bhadraka- the head Nadi astrologer has come quite close to it. The code which can change the future of man’s destiny by unlocking the mystery of ancient palm leaves which is a key element in Nadi Astrology.
But then, a lot others are after it too. The FBI and other intelligence agencies are after it. The world powers want to get the code to control the universe.
Lord Shiva apprehended that if the power to change the future comes in the hand of humans there will be great destruction. As the forces of power, greed and corruption are too strong.
Award winning computer scientist Nolan Edward who had discovered the ‘Immortal Code’ by decoding it from ancient palm leaves and fingerprint technology, now has only one choice in his hands. To save the human race by destroying it.
Will he succeed? Will Bala get the code at last? Will Nolan be able to overcome his own demons?
This is the BOOK 1 of the SECRET OF THE IMMORTAL CODE
BOOK 2 is - APOCALYPSE OF RUDRA CURSE
READ ON AMAZON : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009D6PJTY
NOTES FROM AUTHOR:
Lord Shiva, the Destroyer, the Creator, the Protector.
God of all Gods. King of the Ganas. He had prophesied the life of every living being millions and millions of years before. He had fought many a war to drive away the force of greed, hatred and corruption.
But even today, his teachings are as valuable as it was millions of years before.
It is said that ancient Hindu text holds many unsolved mysteries of the world. Our Vedas and Upanishads are the source of many discoveries. Famous scholars like Max Muller had gone to great depths researching on them. Vedic literature had helped in the understanding and discovery of atomic energy. The earliest use of astrology can be tracked down to Vedanga, derived from the Vedas.
Nadi Astrology is a form of Hindu astrology practiced in Tamil Nadu, India. It is based on the belief that the past, present and the future lives of all humans were foreseen by Hindu sages in ancient time.
It is said that Lord Shiva himself had foretold all of these to Sati when asked about the future of all her children. The sages who were then present at Mount Kailash also heard that and then they wrote it on palm leaves
A hundred and one are the arteries of the heart,
One of them leads up to the crown of the head.
Going upward through that,
One becomes immortal.
- Chandogya Upanishad, Chapter VIII
Prologue
The storm was slowly catching speed as Bhadraka entered the century old library. The rain had already started. The whisper of the gushing wind passing through the leaves made a strange moaning sound. His heart was pounding a hundred times faster. Puddles of mud splashed and spoiled the ironed mundu- his stark white dhoti as he ran towards the entrance. The lights had gone off making the whole area ghostly. Clutching his torch, Bhadraka shouted for the guards. There was something wrong he felt while sleeping and had immediately left for the library. Completely drenched, he kept on chanting and praying in his mind as he stepped inside.
The two guards were already dead!
A shiver ran down Bhadraka’s spine. The head of the Naadi family touched their head and muttered a silent prayer. The bodies were slowly turning blue with the snake’s venom. Thick bubble of spit was oozing from the corner of their mouth. Their eyes, all whitened and popping out in immense fear.
They must have died instantly.
Bhadraka took one quick look at the snake bite.
It must be a cobra, he thought.
Tears came rolling down as he silently closed those bulging eyes of the two guards. Faithful and obedient, they had been guarding the library for years. His heart was pumping hard as he ran inside the Saraswati mahal library with his frail aged legs. One of the oldest libraries in whole Asia, it was started as a royal library for the private pleasure of the king back in 1500 AD. Inside, it was all dark. Someone must have tempered with the main switch, Bhadraka thought. The ancient library was the house of millions of Naadi palm leaves sacredly preserved across centuries .Bhadraka slowly climbed the steps leading to the main hall. His old lungs gasped for air as he stood near the large portrait. In the flashing thunder his eyes caught the image of Shiva in tandava dance on the walls.
Lord Shiva who had saved the sacred leaves through Thiruvalluvan. Thus forming the community of Valluvars- Shiva’s men who are protecting the secret for generations.
The lord must be angry today!
He struggled in that darkness to look through the large hall. A veil of mystic silence wrapped the entire library. Insects played in the conical beam of the torch as he staggered inside. He walked briskly clutching the walls. The storm was still ravaging outside .He could hear the crashing of broken branches. The cry of a lone dog suddenly caught his ear. Bhadraka looked back to check if anyone was following him.
No one should know about the secret chamber.
As he dragged himself to the southernmost part of the library, the very sight made him quiver in horror. The torch light reflected on the moist dark staircase. The doorway leading to the hidden chamber was now open, its century old rusted lock broken. He shook in disbelief.
How can it happen!
The police were yet to come. Bhadraka had personally asked Anjunath to call the police before coming here. Lighting his torch he carefully walked down the stairway leading down to the chamber. The steps were a bit slippery. Cautiously he crossed the stairs and walked towards the door.
His hands shivered violently as he opened the door of the chamber. No one has ever dared to come so close to the secret. In his entire life, Bhadraka had never ever entered the chamber. As the head of the Naadi group, he only had the power to walk down the chamber.
The wooden cabinet was thrown open .The doors swayed with a shrill sound. Trembling in fear, Bhadraka slowly focused the torch with his shaking hands.
Inside, the box holding the Rudrapallam was gone!
Bhadraka couldn’t believe his eyes. The secret which has been protected for thousands and thousands of years was now gone.
The master Naadi leaf!
Fanatically he searched inside the closet. But nowhere could he locate the box. How can someone do it, Bhadraka completely broke down. He closed his eyes in terror. The future ahead was tumultuous.
If anyone has the power to break the code, it will be dangerous. The leaf, the most sacred naadi leaf preserved the secret of immortality.
The Valluvars has been protecting it for centuries. The Muslim invasion, the British rule none could stop them from protecting the sacred leaf .They had kept the secret guarded for ages.
How someone could stole it, again thought Bhadraka. The horror made him so weak that he sat down. Very few knew about it. The secret was passed to Bhadraka by his father on his dying bed. From that time Bhadraka was given the position of the head astrologer of the Naadi family.
The cobra bites reminded him of someone but he tried not to believe it.
It can’t be! How can Bala, my own son do this!
He knew a section of the naadis followed and worshipped Bala as their leader, but he never thought this will happen.
Rudrapallam, the master leaf, holding the secret of immortality!
No one had ever set eyes on it. For centuries it had been preserved and protected in that curved mahogany box.
The valluvars had carried the secret from generations to generations.
Bhadraka closed his eyes and offered his repeated prayers to Lord Shiva.
‘Please forgive us Lord…Please’
He couldn’t think what can happen next.
Rudrapallam , the carrier of secret, the secret of immortality, Lord Shiva’s Naadi leaf was now gone!
Chapter 1
Present Day
Somewhere in Nashville, United states,
An inconspicuous house,
1 am of night
Nolan Edward was still stark awake.
How can I let him die?
He kept on walking up and down in his night suite with a white, feverish face. A worried pair of eyes searched for an answer as his mind stormed between the past and the present. His lean, worried body hunched over as he thought of the next day. Jaya, his wife remained asleep unaware of the turmoil going inside Nolan’s heart. The room was small and almost dark, except for the streaks of light coming from his reading lamp.
It was the curse, he remembered. And the time has come.
The soft light reflected on the innumerous prizes and honours kept in the glass case beside his bed. Nolan had won them all throughout his lifetime. He had solved the most grueling mysteries which shrouded the computer world for a long, long time. But today he felt useless. Useless and restless. As none of his knowledge can save the little boy. He looked out from the window for a moment.
The curse was about to happen. That goddamn curse!
Those words of head Naadi astrologer Bhadraka stormed his mind.
Even though you had only used it for the most difficult research on human life and future, what you have done is very wrong, you have interfered with the most sacred thing on earth and no one can save you from the curse.
Ages before it happened yet now it looked so fresh. Nolan thought. For last few years, he had been running away from the glare of human eyes. The decision to settle down at one of the most unnoticeable villages of Nashville was predominantly his. But his past was slowly catching with him, Nolan felt. And there was nowhere to run. Just nowhere!
He closed his eyes for a moment. A fine, sunny day. Plumes of blue clouds shadowing the buzzing street. A beautiful boy with black cropped hair happily cycling in midst of the street…all flashed in his mind. A grey car menacing down the road, brakes…noises, shouts…blood goosing out… suddenly all went dark.
He hugged his gown close as the terror was spreading goosebumps all over his body.
Only the code can save my boy!
The darkness outside laid a veil of mourning in his eyes. Somewhere in the woods, a jackal howled. Was it the messenger of death, Nolan thought as he shrugged in horror. The fear coated pain was killing him inside. It was thousands times greater than he had felt at FBI’s investigation last week.
No, FBI hasn’t got the code! They will never, ever get it.
The secret should not go to anyone’s hand at any cost !
Chapter 2
Seventeen years before
Thanjavur Temple compound,
Tamil Nadu, India
11pm at night
His sword flashed gallantly in that moonlit night. The sharp silver blade glazed. Bala wickedly smiled as he rubbed his finger across the edge of the sword.
It was now ready for the kill!
It was full moon today. The final match was about to start. Bala slowly entered the arena. With his mighty right leg he thumped the ground. The chanting has started ‘Bala, Bala, Bala…’. He looked around. Every inch of his body smelled of power. Bala, the powerful. Sweat beads gleamed on his forehead as he entered. His beloved Nuga, his pet snake was with him. It hissed sharply sending vibrations in the air. Bala kissed Nuga’s head and placed the cobra back in the bamboo box.
You never know when a cobra comes handy!
The silver light had lightened up the otherwise dark part of the Thanjavur Temple compound. Even in this twenty-first century, the temple is perfectly maintained. The Vimana- the temple tower looked heavenly in that broken light. The kumbam or the dome at the top was a marvelous piece of architectural excellence. Thousands of devotees offer their prayers to Lord Shiva, the temple God every day and night.
For centuries people had believed that the sacred gopuram, the pyramidal tower over the gateway of the temple never cast any shadow on the ground.
Legends say that when the great king Rajaraja Chola I called his chief architect Sama Varma to built a magnificent temple dedicated to Lord Shiva, he had put forth one condition. That the temple was not to cast any shadow on the ground at any time of the year. As the temple work progressed, Sama Varma grappled a lot with the problem but was unable to solve it. As year passed, he got extremely tensed as to what the king will do to him if he is not able to solve it. One day a small boy came to meet Sama Varma at the temple .The child was stunned at the astonishing architecture and asked how long it will take to be fully completed. Sama Varma revealed his frustration to this boy. The boy smiled and said that he can do it. The chief architect was amazed at his confidence and asked who he was. The boy introduced him as his own son .For years he had not seen his father which made him come to the temple. The little child said that he will help Sama Varma to solve the problem so that father and son can together go home. And true to his words, the boy did that.
But today was a different night.
Bala touched the ground and felt the soil in his hand. It was dry. He checked the direction of the blowing winds .Bala rubbed the soil in his hands. It would help him for a better grip of his sword. He looked up and searched for the stars. God was on his side. Bala smiled looking around as he walked to his opponent. Wearing the traditional warrior dress, he looked splendid.
The competition was a secret one.
Traditional martial art is quite popular in this part of India. It was now entering into the final. The Naadi group, loyal to Bala had staged this martial art competition. Son of the headman of the Naadi family Bhadraka- the head Naadi astrologer, Bala is their leader.
Muscles taunt, sweat beads rolling from his forehead, Bala’s eyes were now fixed on his challenger. The chanting was getting louder and louder as the two sword stuck with awe and power. Clouds of dust hang in the air as the two fierce fighter clashed violently. Bala jumped to his left and pulled down his sword. Then, like a skillful warrior he glazed it past his companion’s chest. The battle was getting fierce.
Dhruva, his opponent was also a valiant fighter. He leaped and thumped on the soil. Dhruva’s sword rubbed across Bala’s shoulder .He had a narrow escape. A tickle of blood dropped on the soil.
The Naadis has now all gone silent.
Bala looked at his wound and in a second his expression changed. His eyes were emitting fire. He looked like Rudra, Lord Shiva. The Naadis were now all afraid.
What if Bala gets defeated? Can he take it?
Chapter 3
Eternity
Mount Kailash,
Near Lake Manasarowar and Lake Rakshastal in Tibet
vide hi rudro rudriyaṃ mahitvaṃ yāsiṣṭaṃ vartiraśvināvirāvat
(Hence Rudra gained his Rudra-strength:
O Asvins, ye sought the house that hath celestial viands)
-Rig Veda
Suddenly the colour of the day became those of a depressing dusk, plumes of snow blown high by the storms at the summit of Mount Kailash. Ethereal mist moving like a giant eagle across the great flanks of the mountain casted a demonic shadow on the nearby lake Manasarowar.
The storm was coming.
A few kilometers away in the city of Bhogavati Large flags bearing the symbol of cobra flapped and hurled in the stormy gust. The snake totem was adapted by the Nagas for long. Looking above Vasuki, the Naga king of Ashtapada closed his eyes for once. His kingdom was next to Kailash and what he watched was the forecast of a looming danger.
‘Something is very wrong’ he murmured in his mind.
That very moment a slim, dark creature escaped Kailash fugitively. It kept on travelling till it crisscrossed along the edges of Mandaar Mountain. Its chapped blackish skin reflected in the snow. The snake raised its hood and looked sideways to make sure no one was watching him. The task was extremely risky but the prize was equally high. The eye spot on its hood looked cunning. Unaware of everyone’s eyes in Kailash the sly serpent had succeeded in his goal. He kept on panting having covered so much distance at ethereal speed. The coveted steal was now in its mouth.
Amarkatha, the immortality code will soon be transferred!
Visvasphani’s heart was trembling with excitement. A sudden scary thought occurred in his mind of what will happen once Lord Shiva founds it’s gone. If by any chance the Lord gets to know the truth it will bring a curse on his whole tribe. Suddenly he closed his eyes for a moment. A curse, a lifelong curse on the Nagas!
But then nothing could be changed now.
Visvasphani thought of all the riches he had been promised .He felt relief. Guarding the secret he took refuge against a huge rock stealthily. His eyes glowed as he shed his snake skin and slowly transformed back to his human form. Lord Shiva will never suspect the Nagas, he thought and smiled. They had always been with him in all troubles. Their king Vasuki was the greatest disciple of the Lord. Visvasphani looked up above. The sky had suddenly turned gloomy. Mount Kailash was now draped in rain-clouds hanging low and tinged with the hue of the twilight .He gave out a sigh of relief. The assignment has been completed.
Soon, the secret will be passed on to the Asura king and he, Visvasphani will be awarded with the deserving prize.
The city of Bhogavati where Vasuki ruled was now covered by dark nimbus clouds. Something was very wrong, he felt. What it was he couldn’t make out but the anxiety was killing him inside. The severe anxiousness kept on rattling him till at last he called upon his Commander, Karkotaka. ‘I have a feel that something is wrong at my Lord’s abode .It’s making me restless. I need to see to it immediately’.
A lifelong devotee of Shiva, Vasuki immediately left for Kailash.
‘It can’t be’ roared Lord Shiva.
Shiva, the Destroyer, the Creator, the Protector. God of all Gods. King of the Ganas.
He woke up from his marijuana trance and found it was gone!
Someone has stolen it! How could it be, a theft in Kailash!
I can’t even relax for a moment, Shiva thought.
‘It can’t be…It can’t be…Nandiiii’ Shiva shouted and called Nandi who was in deep slumber. He woke up and felt that Kailash, the serene abode of Ganas was not the same anymore. Their king was now furious. The air was thick in turbulence.
Someone must have come in disguise!
The sky which was clear a few hours before now looked dark. ‘Yes my Lord’ he gazed at Shiva in fear.
‘Have you seen anyone coming?...’ . ‘No my Lord’ Nandi looked around and found Sati running towards then looking worried. ‘What happened? Why are you shouting?’ Sati was still panting as she spoke her words.
‘Call my commander immediately. Call Ganesha ’. Shiva ordered.
We need to march for war.
Rudrapallam , the carrier of secret, the secret of immortality, Lord Shiva’s Naadi leaf was now gone!
Shiva, the Destroyer, the Creator, the Protector. God of all Gods. King of the Ganas. He had to sacrifice many a life protecting the code from the demons, the Asuras. The Rudrapallam. The Immortal Code .
The Valluvars - Shiva’s men have been protecting the secret for centuries.
And now in this twenty-first century Bala, son of the headman of the Nadi family Bhadraka- the head Nadi astrologer has come quite close to it. The code which can change the future of man’s destiny by unlocking the mystery of ancient palm leaves which is a key element in Nadi Astrology.
But then, a lot others are after it too. The FBI and other intelligence agencies are after it. The world powers want to get the code to control the universe.
Lord Shiva apprehended that if the power to change the future comes in the hand of humans there will be great destruction. As the forces of power, greed and corruption are too strong.
Award winning computer scientist Nolan Edward who had discovered the ‘Immortal Code’ by decoding it from ancient palm leaves and fingerprint technology, now has only one choice in his hands. To save the human race by destroying it.
Will he succeed? Will Bala get the code at last? Will Nolan be able to overcome his own demons?
This is the BOOK 1 of the SECRET OF THE IMMORTAL CODE
BOOK 2 is - APOCALYPSE OF RUDRA CURSE
READ ON AMAZON : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009D6PJTY
NOTES FROM AUTHOR:
Lord Shiva, the Destroyer, the Creator, the Protector.
God of all Gods. King of the Ganas. He had prophesied the life of every living being millions and millions of years before. He had fought many a war to drive away the force of greed, hatred and corruption.
But even today, his teachings are as valuable as it was millions of years before.
It is said that ancient Hindu text holds many unsolved mysteries of the world. Our Vedas and Upanishads are the source of many discoveries. Famous scholars like Max Muller had gone to great depths researching on them. Vedic literature had helped in the understanding and discovery of atomic energy. The earliest use of astrology can be tracked down to Vedanga, derived from the Vedas.
Nadi Astrology is a form of Hindu astrology practiced in Tamil Nadu, India. It is based on the belief that the past, present and the future lives of all humans were foreseen by Hindu sages in ancient time.
It is said that Lord Shiva himself had foretold all of these to Sati when asked about the future of all her children. The sages who were then present at Mount Kailash also heard that and then they wrote it on palm leaves
A hundred and one are the arteries of the heart,
One of them leads up to the crown of the head.
Going upward through that,
One becomes immortal.
- Chandogya Upanishad, Chapter VIII
Prologue
The storm was slowly catching speed as Bhadraka entered the century old library. The rain had already started. The whisper of the gushing wind passing through the leaves made a strange moaning sound. His heart was pounding a hundred times faster. Puddles of mud splashed and spoiled the ironed mundu- his stark white dhoti as he ran towards the entrance. The lights had gone off making the whole area ghostly. Clutching his torch, Bhadraka shouted for the guards. There was something wrong he felt while sleeping and had immediately left for the library. Completely drenched, he kept on chanting and praying in his mind as he stepped inside.
The two guards were already dead!
A shiver ran down Bhadraka’s spine. The head of the Naadi family touched their head and muttered a silent prayer. The bodies were slowly turning blue with the snake’s venom. Thick bubble of spit was oozing from the corner of their mouth. Their eyes, all whitened and popping out in immense fear.
They must have died instantly.
Bhadraka took one quick look at the snake bite.
It must be a cobra, he thought.
Tears came rolling down as he silently closed those bulging eyes of the two guards. Faithful and obedient, they had been guarding the library for years. His heart was pumping hard as he ran inside the Saraswati mahal library with his frail aged legs. One of the oldest libraries in whole Asia, it was started as a royal library for the private pleasure of the king back in 1500 AD. Inside, it was all dark. Someone must have tempered with the main switch, Bhadraka thought. The ancient library was the house of millions of Naadi palm leaves sacredly preserved across centuries .Bhadraka slowly climbed the steps leading to the main hall. His old lungs gasped for air as he stood near the large portrait. In the flashing thunder his eyes caught the image of Shiva in tandava dance on the walls.
Lord Shiva who had saved the sacred leaves through Thiruvalluvan. Thus forming the community of Valluvars- Shiva’s men who are protecting the secret for generations.
The lord must be angry today!
He struggled in that darkness to look through the large hall. A veil of mystic silence wrapped the entire library. Insects played in the conical beam of the torch as he staggered inside. He walked briskly clutching the walls. The storm was still ravaging outside .He could hear the crashing of broken branches. The cry of a lone dog suddenly caught his ear. Bhadraka looked back to check if anyone was following him.
No one should know about the secret chamber.
As he dragged himself to the southernmost part of the library, the very sight made him quiver in horror. The torch light reflected on the moist dark staircase. The doorway leading to the hidden chamber was now open, its century old rusted lock broken. He shook in disbelief.
How can it happen!
The police were yet to come. Bhadraka had personally asked Anjunath to call the police before coming here. Lighting his torch he carefully walked down the stairway leading down to the chamber. The steps were a bit slippery. Cautiously he crossed the stairs and walked towards the door.
His hands shivered violently as he opened the door of the chamber. No one has ever dared to come so close to the secret. In his entire life, Bhadraka had never ever entered the chamber. As the head of the Naadi group, he only had the power to walk down the chamber.
The wooden cabinet was thrown open .The doors swayed with a shrill sound. Trembling in fear, Bhadraka slowly focused the torch with his shaking hands.
Inside, the box holding the Rudrapallam was gone!
Bhadraka couldn’t believe his eyes. The secret which has been protected for thousands and thousands of years was now gone.
The master Naadi leaf!
Fanatically he searched inside the closet. But nowhere could he locate the box. How can someone do it, Bhadraka completely broke down. He closed his eyes in terror. The future ahead was tumultuous.
If anyone has the power to break the code, it will be dangerous. The leaf, the most sacred naadi leaf preserved the secret of immortality.
The Valluvars has been protecting it for centuries. The Muslim invasion, the British rule none could stop them from protecting the sacred leaf .They had kept the secret guarded for ages.
How someone could stole it, again thought Bhadraka. The horror made him so weak that he sat down. Very few knew about it. The secret was passed to Bhadraka by his father on his dying bed. From that time Bhadraka was given the position of the head astrologer of the Naadi family.
The cobra bites reminded him of someone but he tried not to believe it.
It can’t be! How can Bala, my own son do this!
He knew a section of the naadis followed and worshipped Bala as their leader, but he never thought this will happen.
Rudrapallam, the master leaf, holding the secret of immortality!
No one had ever set eyes on it. For centuries it had been preserved and protected in that curved mahogany box.
The valluvars had carried the secret from generations to generations.
Bhadraka closed his eyes and offered his repeated prayers to Lord Shiva.
‘Please forgive us Lord…Please’
He couldn’t think what can happen next.
Rudrapallam , the carrier of secret, the secret of immortality, Lord Shiva’s Naadi leaf was now gone!
Chapter 1
Present Day
Somewhere in Nashville, United states,
An inconspicuous house,
1 am of night
Nolan Edward was still stark awake.
How can I let him die?
He kept on walking up and down in his night suite with a white, feverish face. A worried pair of eyes searched for an answer as his mind stormed between the past and the present. His lean, worried body hunched over as he thought of the next day. Jaya, his wife remained asleep unaware of the turmoil going inside Nolan’s heart. The room was small and almost dark, except for the streaks of light coming from his reading lamp.
It was the curse, he remembered. And the time has come.
The soft light reflected on the innumerous prizes and honours kept in the glass case beside his bed. Nolan had won them all throughout his lifetime. He had solved the most grueling mysteries which shrouded the computer world for a long, long time. But today he felt useless. Useless and restless. As none of his knowledge can save the little boy. He looked out from the window for a moment.
The curse was about to happen. That goddamn curse!
Those words of head Naadi astrologer Bhadraka stormed his mind.
Even though you had only used it for the most difficult research on human life and future, what you have done is very wrong, you have interfered with the most sacred thing on earth and no one can save you from the curse.
Ages before it happened yet now it looked so fresh. Nolan thought. For last few years, he had been running away from the glare of human eyes. The decision to settle down at one of the most unnoticeable villages of Nashville was predominantly his. But his past was slowly catching with him, Nolan felt. And there was nowhere to run. Just nowhere!
He closed his eyes for a moment. A fine, sunny day. Plumes of blue clouds shadowing the buzzing street. A beautiful boy with black cropped hair happily cycling in midst of the street…all flashed in his mind. A grey car menacing down the road, brakes…noises, shouts…blood goosing out… suddenly all went dark.
He hugged his gown close as the terror was spreading goosebumps all over his body.
Only the code can save my boy!
The darkness outside laid a veil of mourning in his eyes. Somewhere in the woods, a jackal howled. Was it the messenger of death, Nolan thought as he shrugged in horror. The fear coated pain was killing him inside. It was thousands times greater than he had felt at FBI’s investigation last week.
No, FBI hasn’t got the code! They will never, ever get it.
The secret should not go to anyone’s hand at any cost !
Chapter 2
Seventeen years before
Thanjavur Temple compound,
Tamil Nadu, India
11pm at night
His sword flashed gallantly in that moonlit night. The sharp silver blade glazed. Bala wickedly smiled as he rubbed his finger across the edge of the sword.
It was now ready for the kill!
It was full moon today. The final match was about to start. Bala slowly entered the arena. With his mighty right leg he thumped the ground. The chanting has started ‘Bala, Bala, Bala…’. He looked around. Every inch of his body smelled of power. Bala, the powerful. Sweat beads gleamed on his forehead as he entered. His beloved Nuga, his pet snake was with him. It hissed sharply sending vibrations in the air. Bala kissed Nuga’s head and placed the cobra back in the bamboo box.
You never know when a cobra comes handy!
The silver light had lightened up the otherwise dark part of the Thanjavur Temple compound. Even in this twenty-first century, the temple is perfectly maintained. The Vimana- the temple tower looked heavenly in that broken light. The kumbam or the dome at the top was a marvelous piece of architectural excellence. Thousands of devotees offer their prayers to Lord Shiva, the temple God every day and night.
For centuries people had believed that the sacred gopuram, the pyramidal tower over the gateway of the temple never cast any shadow on the ground.
Legends say that when the great king Rajaraja Chola I called his chief architect Sama Varma to built a magnificent temple dedicated to Lord Shiva, he had put forth one condition. That the temple was not to cast any shadow on the ground at any time of the year. As the temple work progressed, Sama Varma grappled a lot with the problem but was unable to solve it. As year passed, he got extremely tensed as to what the king will do to him if he is not able to solve it. One day a small boy came to meet Sama Varma at the temple .The child was stunned at the astonishing architecture and asked how long it will take to be fully completed. Sama Varma revealed his frustration to this boy. The boy smiled and said that he can do it. The chief architect was amazed at his confidence and asked who he was. The boy introduced him as his own son .For years he had not seen his father which made him come to the temple. The little child said that he will help Sama Varma to solve the problem so that father and son can together go home. And true to his words, the boy did that.
But today was a different night.
Bala touched the ground and felt the soil in his hand. It was dry. He checked the direction of the blowing winds .Bala rubbed the soil in his hands. It would help him for a better grip of his sword. He looked up and searched for the stars. God was on his side. Bala smiled looking around as he walked to his opponent. Wearing the traditional warrior dress, he looked splendid.
The competition was a secret one.
Traditional martial art is quite popular in this part of India. It was now entering into the final. The Naadi group, loyal to Bala had staged this martial art competition. Son of the headman of the Naadi family Bhadraka- the head Naadi astrologer, Bala is their leader.
Muscles taunt, sweat beads rolling from his forehead, Bala’s eyes were now fixed on his challenger. The chanting was getting louder and louder as the two sword stuck with awe and power. Clouds of dust hang in the air as the two fierce fighter clashed violently. Bala jumped to his left and pulled down his sword. Then, like a skillful warrior he glazed it past his companion’s chest. The battle was getting fierce.
Dhruva, his opponent was also a valiant fighter. He leaped and thumped on the soil. Dhruva’s sword rubbed across Bala’s shoulder .He had a narrow escape. A tickle of blood dropped on the soil.
The Naadis has now all gone silent.
Bala looked at his wound and in a second his expression changed. His eyes were emitting fire. He looked like Rudra, Lord Shiva. The Naadis were now all afraid.
What if Bala gets defeated? Can he take it?
Chapter 3
Eternity
Mount Kailash,
Near Lake Manasarowar and Lake Rakshastal in Tibet
vide hi rudro rudriyaṃ mahitvaṃ yāsiṣṭaṃ vartiraśvināvirāvat
(Hence Rudra gained his Rudra-strength:
O Asvins, ye sought the house that hath celestial viands)
-Rig Veda
Suddenly the colour of the day became those of a depressing dusk, plumes of snow blown high by the storms at the summit of Mount Kailash. Ethereal mist moving like a giant eagle across the great flanks of the mountain casted a demonic shadow on the nearby lake Manasarowar.
The storm was coming.
A few kilometers away in the city of Bhogavati Large flags bearing the symbol of cobra flapped and hurled in the stormy gust. The snake totem was adapted by the Nagas for long. Looking above Vasuki, the Naga king of Ashtapada closed his eyes for once. His kingdom was next to Kailash and what he watched was the forecast of a looming danger.
‘Something is very wrong’ he murmured in his mind.
That very moment a slim, dark creature escaped Kailash fugitively. It kept on travelling till it crisscrossed along the edges of Mandaar Mountain. Its chapped blackish skin reflected in the snow. The snake raised its hood and looked sideways to make sure no one was watching him. The task was extremely risky but the prize was equally high. The eye spot on its hood looked cunning. Unaware of everyone’s eyes in Kailash the sly serpent had succeeded in his goal. He kept on panting having covered so much distance at ethereal speed. The coveted steal was now in its mouth.
Amarkatha, the immortality code will soon be transferred!
Visvasphani’s heart was trembling with excitement. A sudden scary thought occurred in his mind of what will happen once Lord Shiva founds it’s gone. If by any chance the Lord gets to know the truth it will bring a curse on his whole tribe. Suddenly he closed his eyes for a moment. A curse, a lifelong curse on the Nagas!
But then nothing could be changed now.
Visvasphani thought of all the riches he had been promised .He felt relief. Guarding the secret he took refuge against a huge rock stealthily. His eyes glowed as he shed his snake skin and slowly transformed back to his human form. Lord Shiva will never suspect the Nagas, he thought and smiled. They had always been with him in all troubles. Their king Vasuki was the greatest disciple of the Lord. Visvasphani looked up above. The sky had suddenly turned gloomy. Mount Kailash was now draped in rain-clouds hanging low and tinged with the hue of the twilight .He gave out a sigh of relief. The assignment has been completed.
Soon, the secret will be passed on to the Asura king and he, Visvasphani will be awarded with the deserving prize.
The city of Bhogavati where Vasuki ruled was now covered by dark nimbus clouds. Something was very wrong, he felt. What it was he couldn’t make out but the anxiety was killing him inside. The severe anxiousness kept on rattling him till at last he called upon his Commander, Karkotaka. ‘I have a feel that something is wrong at my Lord’s abode .It’s making me restless. I need to see to it immediately’.
A lifelong devotee of Shiva, Vasuki immediately left for Kailash.
‘It can’t be’ roared Lord Shiva.
Shiva, the Destroyer, the Creator, the Protector. God of all Gods. King of the Ganas.
He woke up from his marijuana trance and found it was gone!
Someone has stolen it! How could it be, a theft in Kailash!
I can’t even relax for a moment, Shiva thought.
‘It can’t be…It can’t be…Nandiiii’ Shiva shouted and called Nandi who was in deep slumber. He woke up and felt that Kailash, the serene abode of Ganas was not the same anymore. Their king was now furious. The air was thick in turbulence.
Someone must have come in disguise!
The sky which was clear a few hours before now looked dark. ‘Yes my Lord’ he gazed at Shiva in fear.
‘Have you seen anyone coming?...’ . ‘No my Lord’ Nandi looked around and found Sati running towards then looking worried. ‘What happened? Why are you shouting?’ Sati was still panting as she spoke her words.
‘Call my commander immediately. Call Ganesha ’. Shiva ordered.
We need to march for war.
September 12, 2012
THE SENSE OF AN ENDING & OTHER LOVE SONGS
SELECTED POEMS OF SAPTARSHI BASU :
AMAZON KINDLE LINK : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0099QGZPK
GLIMPSES FROM THE COLLECTION
DEAD MAN TALKING
Haven’t you ever heard the dead man talking inside your head?I do, at times...
THE SENSE OF AN ENDING
Evening shadows, polluted hearts
Drenching together in that ugly rain, wilderness
Floating clouds, meandering paths
Once I was there, with you.
Rains....
I could speak to her on a day like this,
on a day when it rains as heavily.
You can open your heart on a day like this -
Pebbles of Memory
The songs of the river,made me think of you, sitting by its sidewhen moonlight caught in dewdropsstruggled to break free in that crystal dream.
I WONDER.... I wonder...if I had written a poem for you...The poem will give structure to theWords to immortalize
AND OTHER POEMS.............
AMAZON KINDLE LINK : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0099QGZPK
September 11, 2012
Why Women Really Like 50 Shades Of Grey
It's pointless to deny that there's something going on : EL James and her Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy - having sold millions and millions of copies...
Dubbed as Mummy Porn , it's now in the wishlist of lot of Housewives.
Here is What media and newspapers say about
- Why Women Really Like 50 Shades Of Grey
READ HERE : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00935USXM
SiriusXM convened a radio fan forum, moderated by Kim Alexander and "Just Jenny" host Jennifer Hutt, to determine what about the book gets moms so hot.
Read what they have to say : http://www.buzzfeed.com/annanorth/why-50-shades-of-grey-is-less-about-submission-a
"Most women do the lion's share of the work in the home. They don't want to read about the nitty-gritty of everyday life. They want the fantasy where all that is taken care of," says Irish writer, and author of 28 Mills & Boon books, Abby Green
Read more: http://www.independent.ie/lifestyle/independent-woman/love-sex/why-women-really-like-50-shades-of-grey-3187054.html#ixzz26EIgJVb2
There is a little light spanking in Jilly Cooper (Octavia, Rivals), and the romance genre (as distinct from chicklit) would be many pages lighter if nobody ever got tied to a bed with a scarf, but this is in a different league.
read more : http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jul/06/why-women-love-fifty-shades-grey
'Mummy Porn' secures a place in the dictionary
Read more: http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/4532329/Mummy-porn-Frenemy-and-Amazeballs-added-to-Collins-online-dictionary.html#ixzz26EJJRJas
READ HERE : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00935USXM
September 8, 2012
HEAT AND DUST
HEAT AND DUST
- An Insider’s picture of the great Indian IT Canvas
***
It was perhaps a sunny day. Very bright, I should say. It should be, as the Sun itself was on his rare visits to earth. Mr. Narayana Murthy, NRN as he is lovingly called, was addressing our batch of trainees at the sprawling campus of Mysore. He was sharing how he started Infosys .What led to it. His earlier job at Patni, why he left. Like others, I was sitting on the grass and was mesmerized by his simple yet enigmatic words. That very voice which echoes at the depth of your heart. Years later those words again haunted me on mundane days in London. Sitting at the bank of Thames and munching some cheap noodles, something inside urged to pen down a story of our liVES, ordinary yet not so ordinary. And thus the novel idea was born.
A few lines from one such attempt.
***
The Horse Race, Rose Petal and Mysore Days-I
It was almost evening in Scranton. The sun after a day long fight was about to retreat spreading his red blood on the whole sky. The hills far away looked as an assembly of dark people slowly speaking in their hush voices.
Priyanka was busy preparing the Pork chops. “Sheeba, please lower the sound it’s too noisy” Priyanka said to Sheeba, her colleague and roommate who was busy dancing to the fast tunes. “He must have reached, it’s already 20 hours” She thought of Saptak while turning the meat. She was on a shopping spree and was unable to receive Saptak’s call from Mumbai airport yesterday. “Who are you? Oh! Priyanka’s friend, ok she is not at home…I will tell her once she comes back” Sheeba took the call and had passed the message to her.Parimal Chatterjee, Priyanka’s father would have taken a heart attack seeing her daughter eating pork. He was a strict bramhin.Very strict so as to say. Even at the wedding party of his non-Brahmin colleague’s son or daughter, he would visit to hand over the gift and slowly returned home without eating anything on the context of stomach upset. “Come on Priyanka, Join us” Sheeba remarked.
The party has just started .Priyanka smiled back. It was going to be her 4th month in Scranton.4 long months. For the last 4 months she hasn’t hugged her mother, Protima Devi. Priyanka was never close to her dad and a cold war always existed between the both. It remained hidden but grew on proportions over the years of Priyanka’s growth. She missed Saptak’s closeness everywhere. But then she had to move forward with her career. Priyanka looked up from her kitchen window. A lonely bird was flying ahead in the sky. Alone, left out of the herd but still moving forward. “He must have his loved ones, Left far behind” Priyanka felt striking a similarity with herself. She had been quite lucky to get her first onsite project at a young age.Suman Sasmal, Priyanka’s Project Manager at Tech consultancy services was impressed by her severe hard work and dedication. She single handed managed most of the Mainframe operations of their client, United Power. At times, even sacrificing her night long sleep.
The onsite was like a reward to her commitment and hard work. “What are you cooking” said Sarin as he positioned himself very close to Priyanka. Sarin, Sarin Gupta was Priyanka’s onsite Manager. “He likes you madly “Sheeba had said in her very first month of stay. “Everyone knows that, But he is waiting for your signal”, Sheeba had smiled to Priyanka. Sarin stayed close to their apartment and was quite frequent in his visit. “Pork chops, your favourite” Priyanka smilingly replied. She could easily feel Sarin’s warm breath on her neck. She felt a bit uneasy as she was in every closeness with Sarin. But she was confused. Her stay at Scranton was on Sarin’s hand. And it was about to get over. She had been sent to Scranton only on a 4 month assignment. She needed Sarin’s favour to stay long. One harsh reply and she might be packing her bags straight to her Rashbihari flat. She didn’t want to go back.She wanted to move ahead and forward.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In his dreams, Saptak was looking at the giant crystal Pyramid. Totally mesmerized in its bluish beauty. It was his first day at the Mysore campus of Informatics Technologies Limited. He kept on looking at its brilliant architecture and a sense of pride engulfed his heart. It was a tough journey needless to say. Infomatics Technologies Limited was one of the most coveted software companies of modern India recruiting the best brains. The cut-off percentage needed for just appearing for the exam was quite high which filtered most of the young brains. Only a handful was lucky enough to sit for the exam. And out of them, the luckiest ones used to set foot on the Mysore campus for their initial training.
Saptak had never dreamt of joining Informatics during his engineering days. Being into mechanical Engineering, he had always dreamt of joining one of the big automobile houses. But somewhere he had a connection with Informatics. His idol was the man behind the creation of Informatics Technologies.
He was Srinivasan Raghavan.
“To Be or not To Be” is perhaps one of the greatest questions for the Haves and Have Not’s has one thing in common “Desire”. Desire to be and Desire to Have. And when the desire is pure and unselfish, it drives you to achieve things which seemed beyond reality. May be this desire made Srinivasan Raghavan create the great Indian dream.
Born in a lower middle class family, Raghavan had always thrived to achieve things which at times seemed impossible .And he had a passionate hunger inside him. Hunger of achieving what he dreamt day in and day out.
After completing his master degree in Computer science he joined one of the Indian Software companies. His hunger made him climbed the ladders with zealous speed.
And then one day something happened and Raghavan’s life was never again the same.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And remember boys and girls, NO CHEATING! Anyone caught will be debarred from the exam and can never join Informatics” the invigilator shouted at the top of her voice. Saptak was still shaking. He was late for the recruitment exam and had just entered. With his shivering hands, he took up the question paper. It was all Puzzles! And that was the beauty of Informatics Recruitment exam. It was different from others. Just like the company .Different and distinguished. Saptak started cracking the puzzles. One by one. There was a total 10 of them. The first ones were less complex as compared to the last ones. He could hear some hush voices by his sides. “Hey Anand, what’s the answer of Q4”, the bespectacled boy squatting diagonally asked to the guy by his side. “Only 10 mins left”, the invigilator again shouted .The tension was mounting. Saptak was struggling with the last puzzle of blue, green and red balls.”Time over, no one touches their answer sheet”, the fat lady had already started snatching everyone’s answer sheet.
“How was it buddy?” Nikhilesh, the Computer Science topper patted Saptak.”It’s over, I don’t think I can make it”, Saptak smiled back.”Anyways, it’s not my cup of tea…it’s for you Bill Gates…Do me a favour if by any chance my name appears just give me a call”.
But you never know what trick destiny has in store for you. Nikhilesh couldn’t make it. And Saptak’s name was in the top 10.
“Ma, I have cracked the written…tomorrow is my interview” Saptak was shouting on the phone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An assignment of 1000 computers came that day. As it was told to Raghavan who was the Project Manager to take care of it. And Mr. Srikant Batni, the CEO of Project Solutions ltd was on an abroad travel. “Just sign it Raghavan” Yogesh Batni, Srikant’s younger brother and MD of the company was revolving in the revolving chair. He looked composed and cunning. “I will Sir, but first I need to check the consignment” Raghavan replied. Yogesh stood up. His blood red nerves were spitting the anger on Raghavan. “You are just a small cockroach in our company, Just do as I say or I will just kick you away”.
“I can’t Sir, but from today I am kicking your company. Tell your brother that it was nice working with him” .Slowly, Raghvan picked up the file and left Yogesh’s cabin.
And indeed it was his last day at the Pune office of Project Solutions Ltd.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I can’t Sir, I have very limited knowledge about computers” Saptak replied to the exponential programming given to him in the interview board. There were just three of them. A middle aged man with professorly looks and a young lady was interviewing Saptak. “Then why do you want to join Informatics? After you join it will be all about computers and computing”, the lady smilingly asked Saptak. “That too being from Mechanical Engineering Background, You have got goods marks, you can easily get a good departmental job” the Middle aged Man added. Saptak looked up. He needed to deliver the final blow. “I know Sir I can easily get a departmental job, And I also know that I am not good at Computers, but Sir I just need to chance to work with Mr.Srinivasan Raghavan. He is my idol Maam. And he gives me the courage to get out of my very middle class background” .His heart was pumping fast with emotion.
The two interviewers smiled at each other. “Best of luck” they said to Saptak.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mrs.Karuna Raghavan was surprised to see her Husband sitting in the drawing room after her office. ‘You are so early today? Hope everything is all right’ she smiled. ‘Not exactly, I quit my job today’ .He explained how things have shaped up to take an ugly turn. ‘Have you thought of anything you want to do now’.
Raghavan smiled ’Yes, I have a dream’.
Brown eyes, Haunted thoughts and the sudden rain…
Why do I still love you
Why do I still care
Why do I still spend my nights
Wishing you were there
Why can't I forget
Why can't I move on
Why can't I believe
That you are really gone
She was always there.
In the scorching sun, the predicted and unpredicted drizzle of Kolkata….crowdy roads, lonely lanes…everywhere. And He was always with her. May be not physically, But Saptak’s thought had made a permanent abode in Sukanya’s heart. She had never tried to throw it away neither had craved to hold it back, it was naturally there. But she kept it as a very precious possession hidden.
Her joint family at their ancestral house in baghajatin was also there. For quite a long time. Sukanya’s Thakurda, her grand-father had struggled hard to built it. During the turbulent time of partition, Atulendra Chattopadhay had seen it all. He was the only one alive to fled then so called east Bengal now Bangladesh. He came to kolkata alone, hungry and orphaned.
But somewhere he had the tremendous zeal to love life and fight all odds. Apparently Sukanya had inherited that quality from him.
It started unusual. She was a bit early that day. It was September and still dark .She struggled for her specs and couldn’t find them. She rumbled for a few more minutes and got up. It was around 5 Am. “ whole of kolkata might be still sleeping” a faint smile appeared on her tired face and left.Yes, she was tired. In many ways. Tired to meet her deadlines at InfoTech software limited, tired of the long night outs, tired of her parent’s constant pressure of marriage, tired of her unreciprocated feelings about Saptak.She knew he can never be her’s,she knew he had someone else in his life ….she knew everything. To be clearer, she tried to know everything about him.Thorugh all means. The modern social networking sites came to a good help. But it pained her more. She could see his smiling face, his status committed and Priyanka’s scraps. What irked her more was that everyone could communicate to him except her. She tried to write something very plain and general and then deleted it. But then again her ardent desire to just let Saptak know she was alive….she again wrote something just to delete it. It went a couple of times until she felt defeated in the hands of destiny and came out of the café. The dogs at baghajin came to rescue her back to the mundane normalcy by shouting at the top of their voice.Sukanya took a quick bath and tried to get ready in the quickest way. She never felt the need to look pretty which was very natural to a girl of her age .She always missed those eyes for whom she needs to.
Aparna Chattopadhay was busy in her kichen.Her life had been in a perfect routine over the past few years. Getting up early, Praying to god after her bath and then making breakfast and lunch for Sukanya and her Dad. Her husband, Prodhut Chaattopadhay was now a senior officer with the West Bengal State electricity board. Although he had a single daughter, his looks more aptly represented someone in the severe tension of marrying off his 5 daughters.
He had always tried to be honest and to avoid problems of all shapes and sizes.Prodhut had been staying in their Baghajatin home long than the CPM government had ruled Bengal. Bitter conflicts had occurred many a times between Aparna and him for shifting to a new flat, Aparna being the chief and sole speaker. But every time she had lost to the stern silence he always maintained. It was not that the idea of a nuclear family in a small flat in salt lake never floated in his mind, but it got merged in his Mother’s memory.Manibala Devi,Prodhut’s mother has taken her last breath in this home.Prodhut was just a little child of 7 at that time. He had always craved for her love which had eluded him for many years. As creepers always searches for a support, however weak it may be…and try to fully depend on it.Prodhut had tried the same. His physical growth had followed the law of nature but in his hearts of heart he had always been a lonely orphan. Atulendra Chattopadhay had never tried to take up their Mother’s role as he was too busy making his children a man and also was least interested in such a role.
The whiteliner was about to leave. It was almost packed up. The white vehicle had been the sole companion of Sukanya after she joined her office. But today perhaps he was angry on her.Sukanya could see the bus slowly departing .She was not too far but the idea of sprinting for the bus seemed vulgar to her. A deserted look appeared on her face as the whiteliner caught motion.
InfoTech Software Limited was one of the less renowned Software companies where Sukanya worked. Many such companies have sprung up in Kolkata as well as all over India. They had a very small Employee base carrying out all the work. The number of projects running at a given point of time was also small. These companies were mostly opened by IT Professionals who after 15-20 years of IT Experience felt to have something of their own. They have started by capturing of the Clients by their previous association with them.
“Morning Sukanya, A bit late today”, Arijit Bagchi, MD of InfoTech Software greeted her. “Sorry Sir, I missed my Bus”, Sukanya was hurrying to take her seat and start her work. InfoTech Software had an employee base of 12 people. So the responsibilities on each shoulder were very high. There was no fixed work time. People use to come as early as 8.30 in the morning. But the return time was never fixed. It varied from 12o’Clock in the night to early next day morning. Unfortunately, the pay packages were very low.
But a time when unemployment was setting new records, few choices remained in the hands of those who missed the big IT houses.
Quickly she opened her mailbox .There was some chain of mails which included rectifications from the Client side. In some mails, some amendments and new changes has been advised .The Client was BUROX Inc, one of the Insurance Players in United States. Arijit Bagchi used to work for them as the Onsite Project Manager. His years of Association with BUROX gave him the complete insight into their business. So, when Arijit informed them about opening of his own Consulting firm, Mr. Lionel Marchand, IT Head of BUROX was quite happy. It meant the same IT services was to be delivered at a much cheaper cost. Even the Business Partners of BUROX was happy .Arijit didn’t waste a single minute of this opportunity. He rented a small office in Salt Lake and opened InfoTech Software Ltd with 3 of his close Associates. They were all partners to the firm. And they were all Developers. Working day and night to complete the projects with lightening speed. At times, when needed Arijit used to travel to the US to discuss with BUROX IT Team about new projects and existing ones. Now with 12 people on board, InfoTech Software still had BUROX as their sole client. Some small projects from the local Government bodies were executed at times, but the revenue from them remained quite low.
It was already evening .The sky had made a terrifying gloomy face with dark clouds here and there.Sukanya was awfully busy the whole day and had to skip her lunch. She was munching on some Bourbon biscuits while looking deep into her Computer screen, when suddenly her teammate Sikha Pradhan almost kidnapped her to the tea Stall below their office.
“Dada, Ekta Cha (A cup of tea please)”, Sukanya waved to the boy at the stall busy serving tea and cigarettes. The stall remained busy all throughout the day. Software professionals relaxing their mind with a puff of smoke. The light had faded away. Some smiling faces were heading towards their home. Buses and cars horning. It was around 8 Pm.Salt Lake, Where her office was in Kolkata remained busy. She felt a bit cold. Cold and lonely. It was September.Durga Puja was about to come. Its presence was everywhere. Even the polluted air carried the smell of Puja. “Kire,Aj koto raat hobe (How long will it be today)”,One of Sukanya’s Senior remarked while lighting a cigarette. “May be whole night”, She replied absent mindedly. She was thinking of Saptak when suddenly the rains came splashing on the Tea Stall. Everyone started running hurriedly for shelter .But Sukanya was standing there with the raindrops caressing her. She remembered that it was one such day when she had last seen Saptak, they were together and the rains wrapped them in its drenching closeness.
It was a Sunday Evening. Millennium Park at the bank of Ganges was on its full hustle and bustle with lovers flocking around. Saptak was about to leave for Mysore for his training at Informatics Technologies. It was Rudra who introduced her with Saptak. She had taken an instant liking on him without expressing it. She was craving to meet him one last time before he departed. They both were sitting on a crowded bench where lovers were expressing their love openly. There was certain gloominess everywhere. Even the Sky was draped with the black Nimbus clouds. She was squarely looking at Saptak’s face. He was amusedly watching the SonarTori moving majestically on the Ganges. Lot of couples were cruising on it .The air carried a serene touch of Romantic songs coming from the Cruise. Far away the Howrah Bridge looked splendid with its violet lights.
All of a sudden the sky was filled with lightening .It was accompanied with a slight drizzle which slowly caught momentum. Sukanya and Saptak was caught unprepared and had to take shelter under the nearest tree. Strangely there was no one except them. Most of the Couples had come prepared and continued their ardent desires under the umbrella. Sukanya was crouching closely to him as it was heavily raining. She was already drenched. It was a bit dark under the tree as the lights has been warded off by the tree’s thick foliage. She could feel his closeness and the smell of his body spray. At times, when it was lightening she could see Saptak Running his fingers through his hairs. The rain drops were kissing all over his face. An uncanny desire to feel him suddenly gripped her. Saptak was worriedly saying something about the rains. But it didn’t reach her ears. Maybe her mind was strangely preoccupied. She tried to hold on to him intensely. Her soft body was now pressed against his. Saptak looked back. In the low lights of the thunder, he could see her brown eyes mesmerized with feelings. He couldn’t make it out what it was. But it was deeply intense. A fire had already started burning inside him. He could feel her softness. Suddenly, Saptak bend down to reach her lips. They were trembling as if the wait was long.
Saptak left Kolkata for Mysore the very next day. Sukanya never knew when she can see him ever. But in her hearts of heart, she always felt a bond between them. May be it was a bond between someone’s yearning with someone’s impassiveness, but it remained deeply rooted inside Sukanya’s heart. A ray of hope tinkled on its borders.
A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.
Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.
And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.
The rain at the Tea Stall didn’t last long. But it left behind some muddy impressions. “He must have reached London safely”…It was not that Saptak has told her. She had to make it out. Through all possible means. Common friends, networking sites and her unending search for him. “Ma, Oke bhalo rekho (God,Keep him safe)”,she prayed while sipping the tea. The tea had already lost its warmth.
It was years after they met. It was on the same place from where they departed. And it was still raining on that day.
N.B : ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE FICTITIOUS .ANY RESEMBLANCE WITH LIVING ,DEAD OR YET TO BE BORN IS MERELY COINCIDENTAL
September 1, 2012
BANNED UNDER THE BANYAN TREE
AMAZON KINDLE LINK : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0094VD3DC
What makes you think that the story of your life (woefully unlived-in up to that time) deserves to be told? Or that people will want to read it?
- Sasthibrata Chakravarti ( better known as Sasthi Brata)
I now realise hoping was always idealistic, like dark nimbus clouds on scorching summer noons, roaring and puffing but never melting down. I now realise that life was always a routine, like morning ragas at radio stations.
Invisible faces, unforeseen lives. Our sweat and silence bleeds history. Crying, pleading and hoping to break free from the eternal darkness. Like happy tunes vibrating inside a raped soul. Painting rainbows against the gloomy vastness of a sky. Light and rain. Hopes and pain. For I had hoped and remained alive – all these forty years of my life. With a bed-ridden mother, a disabled son in a pigeonhole called ‘home’ and a bunch of grave looking paperbacks to sell. You look at the vulgar cover, flip a few crusty yellowish pages inscribed with inexpensive ink, and I hear those silent words jingling in your heart ‘filthy and polluting’ .Voluptuous sirens pictured with tales of passionate love underneath. I can imagine how your faces scowl and I know how you call them - cheap erotica, Battala (under the Banyan tree) craps, porno, quick excitement (and fall) ...whatsoever. And then under the blatant sun, you timidly look sideways and silently slip a raunchy one at the darkest corner of your executive bag. Rich people, rich desires. Yes, I am one of those whom you watch every day selling those banned eroticas under the guise of daily newspapers. On honking mornings, scorching noons and crimson evenings. At busy railway stations, along the muddy roadways, near the buzzing bus-stands or under the sacred banyan trees. Pale imaginary (at times real) salacious tales with stirring covers hiddiciously waiting for the next customer. Full of sexual innuendos. Spicy dramas, incest stories, paedophile desires, adolescent crushes and much more. I am full of such desirous stories. Enjoying them in my idle times when dirt and filth dances on that everyday road. Poor people, poor desires. Weaving tales of sinister cravings against the grey backdrop of my brain. Whatever it might be, I can’t stop respecting it. You see, your cheap erotica has been the sole bread earner for my family.
So what is it all about? You might be thinking. An Autobiography? Not much, I guess. Autobiographies are for rich, as for poor it’s more aptly the saga of sting. Or punctuations of pain. Or better to say, confessions. Confessions of being alive. A necklace woven with beads of pain and perennial hopes crafted on it. Hopes that drive us to live one more day.
But it’s not all too dark, you see. At times, a million butterflies flutter their vibrant wings on my barren horizon. Like when watching Shiuli, my neighbour Mukul Dutta’s wife bathing at the municipal hand pump, her uncovered breast pressed against the gushing water, her deep brown nipples defiantly protuberant. I remember how sensitive they were, sending a message down there with a flick of a thumb and forefinger. Still now when the day turns dark and cloud claps and growls above, I remember the lost warmth of being inside her. Memories often are cradle of fantasies. Perhaps the human soul needs excursions, and must not be denied. But the point of excursion is that you come back home again. Or watching the buxom receptionist of Tara Enterprise & Sons walking down with creamy legs and the most clefted pair of buttocks I have ever seen. A tanpura tumbled, perhaps. Or watching my son Binu dragging his wasted pair of legs to the wrecked doorsill of our house. He sits there on rainy days floating paper boats on the choked drain running all along. Pure moment of bliss for me in rain soaked pain. Binu dreamt to be an elephant shaped autumn cloud watering the plants in the sky with his trunk. When I asked him of what he wanted to be in life. A sweet looking elephant shaped autumn cloud by profession. With the extremely important task of watering the sky plants .Glowing yellow flowers at heaven’s door watered by Binu shaped autumn cloud .You will probably be curious to know more about Shiuli and the receptionist .I am afraid, I cannot tell you right now. We shall rewind the tape and hear the story from the beginning. Then perhaps you will finally discover and feel. Discover your drama like when drawing curtains on a monsoon-tempered afternoon. Feel a million butterflies flapping in your mind. I might be letting you into my secrets. But with all the reality shows around, who cares? We are all post-modern now, are we not? We have all read Kama sutra, splashy magazines stating which actress sleeps with whom and the rest. Have we not?
I know my saga isn’t that important. Surely it won’t bring a revolution. Million fragmented pieces like me are so deeply interwoven in the country’s fabric. But then, isn’t it tickling knowing the life of one such ‘cheap erotica’ seller. Whose cheap books, you have surely read behind closed doors or under the blanket at some stage of your life. Baba, will I ever go to school? – Those soft eyes of Binu questions me day and night .Radiant hopes in kerosene light flickers in his heart. Tormenting a father’s soul with nothing much to do. I watch him sleeping and know dreams of a neat school uniform, a decorated tiffin box, a Mickey mouse water bottle is beautifully shaping in his mind. Binu shaped autumn cloud going to heaven’s school. With Mickey mouse water bottle swaying down his neck. Silent crystals glow at the corner of my eyes as I mournfully watch his crippled legs. That teardrop I hold in the cup of my palm is a diamond of memories. Tired smiles of my once domestic bliss reflect on its borders. That sticky pillow with smells of hair oil and smeared vermillion of the morning, that bindi pasted on my opaque mirror, curry stained sari, the soft music from the colliding bangles and thousand shattered piece of memories. Painfully embedded in it. Poor people, rich memories. That hairpin lying on the bathroom floor, that unfinished economical soap soaked in her smell .Memories inside memories. It contains those unheard cries of Bakul, my wife as the bullet pierced her bosom. I was lucky not to be present when the police open fired on the protestors at Horigram. Her blood brought revolution at a cost of hundred rupees. And then the next monsoon washed it away bringing victory. Truckload of living ghost from our Bustee- slum was taken there. Hundred rupees, perhaps was pretty cheap for a life. And for a husband, who never saw his wife again. Not even her body for performing last rituals. At times I feel my city is full of vultures, they live on the corpses of other people’s emotions .That raindrop I hold in the cup of my palm is a diamond of memories. Aching cries of my mother fills the void of my walls. She had been praying long to her God to fulfil her soulful desire of death. And I, my mother’s son had been praying long to my God to eliminate a feeding mouth. Same God, different prayers. Different prayers, seeking same favour. The painful economics of staying alive had washed away debris of love and affection from my sinful soul.
Outside, along the dirty lanes of my slum, I can still hear hand-made crackers bursting. Splinters of fire sucking hundreds of smiles and slowly fading into memory. Pounding mikes playing erotic filmy songs, taking a break from their usual political blabbers.
Nesha nesha legeche premer nesha, Tai Majnu debe Laila ke sasha(Intoxication of love has intoxicated, so Majnu will give his cucumber to Laila)
Surreal blinking lights temporarily washing away the persistent darkness. The heavy air carries smell of sweat and alcohol. The clogged municipal drain carries smell of human faeces and wasted blood. Spilled at party clashes. Sleepless eyes drenching their thirst with party-funded country liquor. Dancing away their undying pains for one glorious night. I knew this night quite closely. I had planned for this night, while silently watching moonlight in dewdrops. When Binu perhaps had forgot crying and slept with unquenched hunger. With dreams of Binu shaped autumn cloud watering the sky plants.When my mother had mumbled Hari’s name (Lord Krishna’s name) all throughout her insomniac night. I touched my face on the rusted irons of my curtain-less dilapidated window, feeling the cold on my cheeks and the night on my soul. Men, women and children- jumping, howling, cursing and dancing. Inexpensive t-shirts, saree drapes flying in the air .All hypnotised by tonight’s political freedom .For tonight, the new government of Bengal People’s Party (BPP) completes their one year in power. And I couldn’t find a better day for my confessions. While silently watching all my hopes to fade away in that darkness. Sublimating slowly like the amorphous camphor .For tonight, the freshly purchased rat-kill stands gloomily beside my unpublished erotic novel. Eagerly waiting to finish off another family of rats in the pigeonhole.
AMAZON LINK : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0094VD3DC
N.B :
THE ABOVE WORK IS FICTITIOUS IN NATURE AND IS THE SOLE COPYRIGHT OF SAPTARSHI BASU.
ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANY LIVING OR DEAD OR YET TO BE BORN IS MERE COINCIDENTAL.
What makes you think that the story of your life (woefully unlived-in up to that time) deserves to be told? Or that people will want to read it?
- Sasthibrata Chakravarti ( better known as Sasthi Brata)
I now realise hoping was always idealistic, like dark nimbus clouds on scorching summer noons, roaring and puffing but never melting down. I now realise that life was always a routine, like morning ragas at radio stations.
Invisible faces, unforeseen lives. Our sweat and silence bleeds history. Crying, pleading and hoping to break free from the eternal darkness. Like happy tunes vibrating inside a raped soul. Painting rainbows against the gloomy vastness of a sky. Light and rain. Hopes and pain. For I had hoped and remained alive – all these forty years of my life. With a bed-ridden mother, a disabled son in a pigeonhole called ‘home’ and a bunch of grave looking paperbacks to sell. You look at the vulgar cover, flip a few crusty yellowish pages inscribed with inexpensive ink, and I hear those silent words jingling in your heart ‘filthy and polluting’ .Voluptuous sirens pictured with tales of passionate love underneath. I can imagine how your faces scowl and I know how you call them - cheap erotica, Battala (under the Banyan tree) craps, porno, quick excitement (and fall) ...whatsoever. And then under the blatant sun, you timidly look sideways and silently slip a raunchy one at the darkest corner of your executive bag. Rich people, rich desires. Yes, I am one of those whom you watch every day selling those banned eroticas under the guise of daily newspapers. On honking mornings, scorching noons and crimson evenings. At busy railway stations, along the muddy roadways, near the buzzing bus-stands or under the sacred banyan trees. Pale imaginary (at times real) salacious tales with stirring covers hiddiciously waiting for the next customer. Full of sexual innuendos. Spicy dramas, incest stories, paedophile desires, adolescent crushes and much more. I am full of such desirous stories. Enjoying them in my idle times when dirt and filth dances on that everyday road. Poor people, poor desires. Weaving tales of sinister cravings against the grey backdrop of my brain. Whatever it might be, I can’t stop respecting it. You see, your cheap erotica has been the sole bread earner for my family.
So what is it all about? You might be thinking. An Autobiography? Not much, I guess. Autobiographies are for rich, as for poor it’s more aptly the saga of sting. Or punctuations of pain. Or better to say, confessions. Confessions of being alive. A necklace woven with beads of pain and perennial hopes crafted on it. Hopes that drive us to live one more day.
But it’s not all too dark, you see. At times, a million butterflies flutter their vibrant wings on my barren horizon. Like when watching Shiuli, my neighbour Mukul Dutta’s wife bathing at the municipal hand pump, her uncovered breast pressed against the gushing water, her deep brown nipples defiantly protuberant. I remember how sensitive they were, sending a message down there with a flick of a thumb and forefinger. Still now when the day turns dark and cloud claps and growls above, I remember the lost warmth of being inside her. Memories often are cradle of fantasies. Perhaps the human soul needs excursions, and must not be denied. But the point of excursion is that you come back home again. Or watching the buxom receptionist of Tara Enterprise & Sons walking down with creamy legs and the most clefted pair of buttocks I have ever seen. A tanpura tumbled, perhaps. Or watching my son Binu dragging his wasted pair of legs to the wrecked doorsill of our house. He sits there on rainy days floating paper boats on the choked drain running all along. Pure moment of bliss for me in rain soaked pain. Binu dreamt to be an elephant shaped autumn cloud watering the plants in the sky with his trunk. When I asked him of what he wanted to be in life. A sweet looking elephant shaped autumn cloud by profession. With the extremely important task of watering the sky plants .Glowing yellow flowers at heaven’s door watered by Binu shaped autumn cloud .You will probably be curious to know more about Shiuli and the receptionist .I am afraid, I cannot tell you right now. We shall rewind the tape and hear the story from the beginning. Then perhaps you will finally discover and feel. Discover your drama like when drawing curtains on a monsoon-tempered afternoon. Feel a million butterflies flapping in your mind. I might be letting you into my secrets. But with all the reality shows around, who cares? We are all post-modern now, are we not? We have all read Kama sutra, splashy magazines stating which actress sleeps with whom and the rest. Have we not?
I know my saga isn’t that important. Surely it won’t bring a revolution. Million fragmented pieces like me are so deeply interwoven in the country’s fabric. But then, isn’t it tickling knowing the life of one such ‘cheap erotica’ seller. Whose cheap books, you have surely read behind closed doors or under the blanket at some stage of your life. Baba, will I ever go to school? – Those soft eyes of Binu questions me day and night .Radiant hopes in kerosene light flickers in his heart. Tormenting a father’s soul with nothing much to do. I watch him sleeping and know dreams of a neat school uniform, a decorated tiffin box, a Mickey mouse water bottle is beautifully shaping in his mind. Binu shaped autumn cloud going to heaven’s school. With Mickey mouse water bottle swaying down his neck. Silent crystals glow at the corner of my eyes as I mournfully watch his crippled legs. That teardrop I hold in the cup of my palm is a diamond of memories. Tired smiles of my once domestic bliss reflect on its borders. That sticky pillow with smells of hair oil and smeared vermillion of the morning, that bindi pasted on my opaque mirror, curry stained sari, the soft music from the colliding bangles and thousand shattered piece of memories. Painfully embedded in it. Poor people, rich memories. That hairpin lying on the bathroom floor, that unfinished economical soap soaked in her smell .Memories inside memories. It contains those unheard cries of Bakul, my wife as the bullet pierced her bosom. I was lucky not to be present when the police open fired on the protestors at Horigram. Her blood brought revolution at a cost of hundred rupees. And then the next monsoon washed it away bringing victory. Truckload of living ghost from our Bustee- slum was taken there. Hundred rupees, perhaps was pretty cheap for a life. And for a husband, who never saw his wife again. Not even her body for performing last rituals. At times I feel my city is full of vultures, they live on the corpses of other people’s emotions .That raindrop I hold in the cup of my palm is a diamond of memories. Aching cries of my mother fills the void of my walls. She had been praying long to her God to fulfil her soulful desire of death. And I, my mother’s son had been praying long to my God to eliminate a feeding mouth. Same God, different prayers. Different prayers, seeking same favour. The painful economics of staying alive had washed away debris of love and affection from my sinful soul.
Outside, along the dirty lanes of my slum, I can still hear hand-made crackers bursting. Splinters of fire sucking hundreds of smiles and slowly fading into memory. Pounding mikes playing erotic filmy songs, taking a break from their usual political blabbers.
Nesha nesha legeche premer nesha, Tai Majnu debe Laila ke sasha(Intoxication of love has intoxicated, so Majnu will give his cucumber to Laila)
Surreal blinking lights temporarily washing away the persistent darkness. The heavy air carries smell of sweat and alcohol. The clogged municipal drain carries smell of human faeces and wasted blood. Spilled at party clashes. Sleepless eyes drenching their thirst with party-funded country liquor. Dancing away their undying pains for one glorious night. I knew this night quite closely. I had planned for this night, while silently watching moonlight in dewdrops. When Binu perhaps had forgot crying and slept with unquenched hunger. With dreams of Binu shaped autumn cloud watering the sky plants.When my mother had mumbled Hari’s name (Lord Krishna’s name) all throughout her insomniac night. I touched my face on the rusted irons of my curtain-less dilapidated window, feeling the cold on my cheeks and the night on my soul. Men, women and children- jumping, howling, cursing and dancing. Inexpensive t-shirts, saree drapes flying in the air .All hypnotised by tonight’s political freedom .For tonight, the new government of Bengal People’s Party (BPP) completes their one year in power. And I couldn’t find a better day for my confessions. While silently watching all my hopes to fade away in that darkness. Sublimating slowly like the amorphous camphor .For tonight, the freshly purchased rat-kill stands gloomily beside my unpublished erotic novel. Eagerly waiting to finish off another family of rats in the pigeonhole.
AMAZON LINK : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0094VD3DC
N.B :
THE ABOVE WORK IS FICTITIOUS IN NATURE AND IS THE SOLE COPYRIGHT OF SAPTARSHI BASU.
ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANY LIVING OR DEAD OR YET TO BE BORN IS MERE COINCIDENTAL.
August 29, 2012
THE OTHER MAN'S WIFE & OTHER STORIES- AN EROTIC JOURNEY OF CARNAL DESIRES
DOWNLOAD IT FREE !!!
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She watched him for a moment and when he turned and saw her watching him, he felt very ashamed. Blushing, he quivered. She liked that flushed tinge on his soft face .He quickly caught hold of the curtain and tried to hide his aroused nakedness. Somewhere, there was a delicate inward strength in Neil’s youthful body. Ajanta thought .She smiled at him and got up. ‘No! Let me see you. You look beautiful, so pure in this morning light! Come to me’ she said holding her slim arms out from her dropping breasts…
-The other man’s wife
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The boy in the Heart-case
- Divorced and lonely, Debbie lives with her only daughter and a forlorn life. She feels it more when her close friend Ethan leaves suddenly for New York with a letter and a key. The key leads to different secrets and slowly the past of Debbie unfolds. The fantasy and the filth .Then there is a big heart shaped box where she finds a two year old boy alive! Who is the boy? Soon, Debbie catches up with her past demons.
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Cleopatra’s Heir
- Caesarion, Son of beautiful and plotting Cleopatra and the powerful and ruthless Julius Caesar who flees Egypt is captured in Alexandria. He is the sole witness of the fuming sexual relationship of Caesar and her mother. He look down upon Mark Anthony for the illicit relation with his mother, Cleopatra. Does he meets death or able to escape to India?
Read it in - MIRA AND OTHER STORIES
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00935USXM
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She watched him for a moment and when he turned and saw her watching him, he felt very ashamed. Blushing, he quivered. She liked that flushed tinge on his soft face .He quickly caught hold of the curtain and tried to hide his aroused nakedness. Somewhere, there was a delicate inward strength in Neil’s youthful body. Ajanta thought .She smiled at him and got up. ‘No! Let me see you. You look beautiful, so pure in this morning light! Come to me’ she said holding her slim arms out from her dropping breasts…
-The other man’s wife
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The boy in the Heart-case
- Divorced and lonely, Debbie lives with her only daughter and a forlorn life. She feels it more when her close friend Ethan leaves suddenly for New York with a letter and a key. The key leads to different secrets and slowly the past of Debbie unfolds. The fantasy and the filth .Then there is a big heart shaped box where she finds a two year old boy alive! Who is the boy? Soon, Debbie catches up with her past demons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cleopatra’s Heir
- Caesarion, Son of beautiful and plotting Cleopatra and the powerful and ruthless Julius Caesar who flees Egypt is captured in Alexandria. He is the sole witness of the fuming sexual relationship of Caesar and her mother. He look down upon Mark Anthony for the illicit relation with his mother, Cleopatra. Does he meets death or able to escape to India?
Read it in - MIRA AND OTHER STORIES
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00935USXM
August 27, 2012
AN EROTIC JOURNEY OF CARNAL DESIRES
The book just got online in AMAZON KINDLE after 5 PM IST today and till now there has been more than 200 DOWNLOADS.....
Link : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00935USXM
And my dear Friend and Cover Designer Aditya ( who also designed my novel AUTUMN IN MY HEART) has done a Fantabulous Cover...
DOWNLOAD THE BOOK NOW FOR FREE !
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00935USXM
August 26, 2012
WONDER LUST - COLLECTION OF STORIES ON EROTICA
WONDER LUST
A COLLECTION OF STORIES ON EROTICA
STORIES:
1) Wrong bed, Right guy
2) Seducing Shalini
3) The boy in the Heart-case
4) The wild ones
5) One stranger’s child
6) Two women
7) For His pleasure
8) Double Dare
9) The other man’s wife
10) All she ever lusted
11) Mira’s Tales
12) Repentance
13) Wrong life, Right Death
14) Cleopatra’s Heir
SOON IN AMAZON KINDLE
The other man’s wife
Who decides our fate? I had thought many a damp night with nothing much to do. Is it God whom we have never seen or the society who instructs the code of conducts silently into our ears from our very birth or is it just us. Are we not the architect of our own fate, or are we just pawns in this big historical irony. For whenever I think of Madam Ajanta’s fate, I shudder with fear. Perhaps, the war has still not ended, it’s all raging within us.
The drizzle of rain was like a veil over the world, mysterious, hushed, not cold. Madam Ajanta was anxious, tensed and excited. She watched the glittering skeleton of the moonlit valley from the curved window in her room and thought of Neil. Her body was now out of the shackled cupboard of marriage. Neil was yet to come from his English classes which made her a bit restless. Her mind wandered in that camouflaged darkness and it brought back the bruise .The bruise was deep, deep, deep... in her heart. The bruise of the false cultural war. To remain tied to those words which never spoke of love. It was words, just so many lifeless words. Those of her husband- retired army lieutenant Bhupati, a coveted Bangladesh war veteran. The war made his famous but shipped him home paralysed and impotent .Words of customs and rituals .Of superiority of men and their instructed life.The only reality was nothingness, and over it a hypocrisy of words.
Neil was very late today, she felt. A bicycle swirled and curled swiftly across the mud patches in the road. A dull, lifeless moon reflected on that dirty grey water. That night she remembered it was raining like this. That mad, mad night. When she first came close to him. Downstairs, the lights were still on. Bhupati was perhaps awake, busy with his reading. After the war he had shifted his family to Siliguri, a sleepy little small town in those times situated in the foothills of Himalayas. His family was small, just Ajanta and him. He was afraid of his hometown Kolkata with people constantly reminding of his disability. Coming here, Bhupati felt relieved. He also brought a couple of servants with him from his hometown who took care of all household stuffs. Soon, he started his security agency. His war reputation helped to grow the business and in a very short period of time he made a good fortune. He felt happy with his success. The locals thought of him in awe and respect. Ajanta who had hardly spend few weeks of marital bliss before Bhupati went away for the war, felt quite lonely here. She was accustomed to the din and bustle of Kolkata. Here, she missed her friends badly. And when Bhupati came back, there was nothing much between them, except words. Words of strict discipline and social responsibility. The business was going all smooth and soon Bhupati immersed himself into literature. Day by day, Ajanta became wearier with her boring life. There was always people around her, distinguished guests, prolific leaders and local party members. Like last time when the great poet visited them in the summer. But there was nothing much life had to offer till her elder sister Manda send her son Neil to study at the local university.
She watched the clock tick ten. Neil was the only fresh air in her stagnant life. Ajanta felt that the night was slowly passing by. It made her angry.She closed the window and switched off the lights in her room. Resting her head on the pillow, she thought of her life. If Bhupati ever comes to know about them, what might happen. She shuddered at the very thought of it .Their full time maid servant could be heard downstairs in the kitchen. She was busy cleaning up and waiting to serve Neil his dinner. Ajanta got up and went downstairs. ‘I thought you have gone to sleep’ Bhupati looked up from the pages smilingly and watched her tired face. ‘Neil hasn’t come yet. Shankar’s mother...’ Ajanta called for her maid servant. Shankar’s mother was an old woman who loved and cared for Ajanta. ‘You go to sleep. I will serve Neil his dinner...’. ‘Come here Ajanta...listen to what the great poet has to say’ Bhupati always shared his literary world with her.But by that time, Ajanta had just got tired with sheer burden of words. She silently came and sat beside him. Her mind was elsewhere, it roamed with the thought of an adolescent body. Neil came late that night. The rain had stopped. Bhupati was off to sleep. Ajanta was asleep on the dining table when suddenly the doorbell rang...
***
It was morning now. The soft, golden rays poured into the room. His sleepy eyes caught the early glare of the sun. He looked around and saw her sleeping. The clock showed six in the morning. She lay lazily on the bed, curled on one side. He watched her face for sometime. Her untied hair kept a part of her face hidden. Her lips were broadened as if she was smiling in her dreams. He suddenly slipped out of bed with his back to her, naked and thin. Neil went to the window. Drawing the curtains a little, he looked out for a moment. The road below was empty. His eyes wondered at the far off hills drowsily .There was a silence like just before a storm. Thoughts were entering seamlessly into his young mind. All kind of thoughts. Of fear and delight. Of mutiny and unrest .The ample light coming now inside the room made her awake. She silently watched his nakedness while lying awake in the bed. His back was white and smooth, the small buttocks beautiful with a delicate manliness. There was no hypocrisy in them. She felt that she wanted him now, that very way .It was ages before she had felt like this .the back of his neck glowed in that radiant sunlight .It was delicate yet strong. She watched him for a moment and when he turned and saw her watching him, he felt very ashamed. Blushing, he quivered. She liked that flushed tinge on his soft face .He quickly caught hold of the curtain and tried to hide his aroused nakedness. Somewhere, there was a delicate inward strength in Neil’s youthful body. Ajanta thought .She smiled at him and got up. ‘No! Let me see you. You look beautiful, so pure in this morning light! Come to me’ she said holding her slim arms out from her dropping breasts… [ TO BE CONTINUED...]
ALL SHE EVER LUSTED
I had been married for long. My husband is a General Manager in a multinational company. Mostly he stays outside due to high work pressure. Even at times he frequently travels abroad to attend numerous business meetings. Our only son studies at a boarding school in Darjeeling. I have all the luxuries at home. My husband has given me everything except the physical pleasures for which I keep craving. I don’t have to do anything at home. My four maid servants take all the care. I spend my time shopping, attending kitty parties and visiting friends. All was going smooth. I was deeply bored from inside but accepted my fate. I spend my lonely nights watching boring movies over and over again. My lips have forgotten what a good kiss is. I look at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling and mourn my days. It was all going in the same fashion. Then suddenly I met Gourav at the office party and everything changed.
It happened in the month of August. I still remember it was raining heavily that day when Gourav and I entered his flat. We were all wet and extremely excited. My husband, Subrata had gone abroad for a business trip. I was spending my days as lonely as ever. One day, I got a call from Meghna .She was the wife of Subrata’s colleague. I had met her couple of times at different office parties. We soon became good friends. Meghna had called up to invite me for the office party happening next week. I said to her that my husband was out of town. Without him, it’s very boring going to those parties. But Meghna kept pestering me a lot. She said all the other wives will be there and we will have great fun. Reluctantly, I accepted. It was long I haven’t attended any such parties. Most of the kitty parties happened to occur at friend’s home. So, no one bothered much to dress up very delicately.
That evening I looked at myself in the mirror. It had been long, long time that I had looked at myself deeply and delicately. It had been long that someone had caressed my body. My breasts were waiting long for a man’s kiss. I took a long time and dressed up very beautifully that evening. I was wearing a red Jamdani sari and a deep cut black blouse. I asked our driver to take out the Honda city and went to Subrata’s office where the party was being held. Meghna and the other wives greeted me as I entered. ‘You are looking very beautiful’ she said. I smiled and blushed. The cultural programs had already started. I watched a few officers staring at me. A ten year old girl was performing Rabindra sangeet at the stage. Soon, I started feeling deeply bored. I asked Meghna to accompany me to the coffee shop inside the cafeteria. We came out of the auditorium and walked towards the coffee shop. It was evening now, the birds chirping on the tree branches .Somewhere, I felt deeply lonely. I remembered my son. We ordered cold coffee for both of us. It was there I met Gourav. His handsome looks made an immediate impression on me. His masculine figure attracted me. He came to take the order and smiled at me. I could see his eyes twinkling looking at the deep cut of my blouse. I smiled back at him. Meghna haven’t watched us silently speaking .I slowly drank the coffee at times watching Gourav. He was also looking at me occasionally. I could see his curved biceps under his tight t-shirt. Suddenly Meghna got a call from her husband and left. I was alone sitting at the shop. Gourav came towards me. I could feel my heart beat growing faster. ‘Hello Maam’ he said. ‘I haven’t seen you earlier. Have you recently joined?’ he asked. His eyes were fixed at my blossomed flowers. I said that my husband work in this office and that he is out of town. I wanted to take his mobile number but I couldn’t. Somewhere deep in my heart, a sense of guilt was pestering me.
That night I couldn’t sleep properly. I dreamt of Gourav .My body became very hot. I could feel his lips all over my body. Instantly I woke up. I was profusely sweating. I went to take a bath. I watched my naked body in the bathroom mirror. My body seemed flattening and going a little harsh instead of ripening. My belly has lost the fresh, round gleam and my breasts looked meaninglessly hanging down. I twisted my neck to get a clear view of my back, my waist and shuddered. The longish slope of my buttocks has lost its richness. That triangular puff of mousy brown hair down which guided a man to the place seemed worn out. There seemed a strange sense of meaninglessness in my body. It was long waiting to make love. I felt a deep sense of nothingness mixed with the sudden desire of making love passionately in my body. After a deep shower, I could sleep. Again I had the same dream next night. And the night after. I tried to remember my husband. I tried to remember my son. I tried to break free from the strangling clutches of desire.
I rebuked myself for such guilty thoughts. I tried to erase those dreams off my mind. I went to kitty parties. I went to friend’s homes. I tried to forget everything. I tried to remind myself that being a married woman I cannot love another man. It’s strictly against our custom and society. Even if the man of my life, my husband sleeps with numerous girls in his business trips. No one questions a man’s character. But God perhaps had some different plan for me.
The next Sunday, I suddenly met Gourav while shopping. I had gone to the local mall for buying some sarees and cosmetics. Gourav had also come for his monthly groceries. We talked for an hour about different things. I watched Gourav frequently looking at my voluptuous breasts. I adjusted my sari. We went to the snacks parlour inside the mall. I was about to leave the mall when he invited me for a cup of tea at his place. He said his flat was quite near to the mall. At first, I refused. Those dreams came haunting me. Gourav kept on pestering till I agreed. He was behaving like a little kid. His sharp looks combined with his childish nature made an instant impression. I called up our driver and said that I will be late as I had a lot of shopping to do. I told him to take the car back home. I will be catching a cab and coming home, I said to him. I didn’t want my driver to watch Gourav with me.
Soon, we came out of the mall and started walking. It was cloudy. My heart was beating faster thinking of what will happen. I was feeling nervous. I looked at the faces walking past if anyone had recognised me. Luckily none of the known faces were there on the street. My mobile buzzed all of a sudden. I looked and saw Subrata calling. The pangs of guilt catched me as I picked up the phone. It went for a few minutes. Same usual talks, same mundane thoughts, same routine dialogues. The distance between us had made our relation just a compromise .I left the phone and scolded myself for such evil thoughts and felt maybe Gourav has nothing in his mind.
I adjusted my saree which was fluttering in the wind. It’s just a cup of tea, I told myself. Suddenly, it started raining heavily. We were caught unguarded as we haven’t brought any umbrella with us. Gourav said to me that his flat was just a few minutes away. A cold breeze started blowing. We walked briskly and then started running. By now, it started raining heavily. I was completely drenched. I started panting soon and stopped. I was short of breath. My bosom was jumping. I saw Gourav’s eyes fixed on them. I looked up in his eyes. Desires craved within those chestnut brown eyes. His hair was all wet and looked beautiful. I felt like running my long fingers through them. His t-shirt stuck to his masculine body. I was now walking very close to him. I could feel his hand on my bulged buttocks. He was slowly rubbing his hands there and then suddenly pressed it. I felt extremely excited but didn’t tell him anything.Soon, we came to his apartment. The watchman observed us from his small room near the gate. I was totally wet now and so was Gourav.
As we entered, it was all dark. I could feel a sensation running all along my body. He immediately switched on the lights. His room resembled that of a bachelors with shirts, vests, underpants all scattered. I smiled as my eyes slowly examined the room. Gourav took off his shirt and went to get a towel for me. I silently watched the small turf of blackish masculine hair round his chest. His shoulders were broad and manly. Drops of rainwater clinched to them. His white slim back was curved with a small patch which seemed like a birthmark near his hip. His jeans were heavy with its wetness and dragged down, making the elastic of his underpant clearly visible round his waist. My heart was pounding a thousand times faster now. He came back soon with a towel and handed over. Gourav’s eyes had a sense of nervous excitement in them. I opened my hair pin and started drying my hair. I was shivering in cold. Suddenly, I felt a strong touch on my belly. My body was on fire. Gourav has grabbed me from behind....
to be continued.....
the collection can be bought in AMAZON KINDLE
HERE : http://www.amazon.com/WONDER-LUST-COLLECTION-STORIES-ebook/dp/B0092FIJH0
