The Laughing Dagger and the Weeping Sword

The Laughing Dagger

He held me close to his heart. My cold naked body rested against his, waiting for him to quench my thirst.

I knew he has already made up his mind and yet, he was nervous to go through the act. I could sense that from the sweat on his palm.

And now, while both of us are eagerly waiting for the moment to come, let me introduce myself.

I am a dagger; No, not just any ordinary dagger. I am the dagger that belongs to my master, Marcus Brutus.

 You know Brutus. Don’t you? He is the noblest of all senators in Rome, the epitome of honesty and selflessness.

But the temptation of a dagger is so strong, that even a man of his stature is hiding me in his cloak ready to use me on his best friend.

Today is Ides of March and here in this great Central hall, beside Pompey’s Theatre we are all waiting for the mighty Caesar to appear.

I am not alone in this hall, there are more than 200 daggers waiting for him. And you know what?….While he will be subjected to more than 30 wounds, only one will prove to be lethal.

Yes, it would be the one inflicted by me. No, not because I am forged with different metal, but because Caesar’s heart will open up, when he will see Brutus with a dagger in his hand.

The man, who lived among the swords and yet walked unscathed, will fall to a dagger. I feel so proud of myself today.

But you know one thing; I never wanted to be a dagger.

I hated, hiding inside a human cloak, and waiting for an opportune moment to strike. For me it was an act of a coward.

 I always wanted to be a sword, tall and handsome, the one they brandish with pride. Sword that make its intention clear to its enemy well in advance, and challenge them for a worthy fight.

 Sword, whose act of bravery is documented in the books of history.

But as fate would have it, the Old Blacksmith in royal foundry forged me into a dagger.

One day, as he was tempering me with fire and water, I expressed my desire to be a sword.

But he laughed and continued with his work.

He dipped me into cold water, wiped off the water from my body and looked at me in admiration.

Then pointing to a sword kept at the corner of the room, he said “Swords represent the known and the expressed feelings of a human”.

 “You, my son” He said, “you would represent the hidden and the dark desires of a man and these hidden desires of a man are far more lethal and ferocious than the expressed ones”.

 “Yes” He added “Act of a sword will be documented in history.”

 “But you” He paused, “You will make history.”

“And you don’t worry about your reputation.” He went on, “These humans have a unique ability to justify the vilest of their crimes. They will have no qualms, using you. No regret at all. The justifications they will give for using you, will make you feel like a sword.”

 Today, Brutus is doing the same.

So, no matter what you think, Brutus is not using me for his ambition to become the noblest. he is not killing at behest of Cassius and Casca. He is doing this to ‘save’ Rome from the tyranny of Caesar.

Today I am the savior of Rome.

ssshhhhh…..here he comes... The mighty Caesar, a man with tall stature, fair complexion and black, ever vigilant eyes. I wonder if he has any idea about what is going to unfold...

The Weeping Sword

No he doesn’t….. he has no idea that today on Ides of March he will be betrayed to death by his own friend. A friend who stood by him for more than a decade would desert him on pretext of saving Rome.

 Caesar is not a tyrant and I know this better than anyone.

You wonder how I know this.

Well…… I am the sword of Julius Caesar, the sword that helped him win many battles, the sword that fought for him at battle of Gaul. And today the sword that kept his enemy at bay will not be there to save him from his own friend.

Look there…... how “courageously” the senators surround my master, pouncing on him, stabbing him, making sure that the “Tyrant” is dead. 

 And as he struggles to defend himself from the deathly blows of those vile daggers, I regret not being there to save him.

Finally he collapses at the feet of Brutus….Cold and Dead.

A man, who was victorious among his enemies, lies dead and defeated among his friends….this can happen only with humans……….isn’t it?

‘Humans’…the most evolved species on earth. You must be proud of the progress you made on this planet.

But, tell me one thing, honestly; do you really think you evolved because of the opposable thumb of yours?  Or because of some superior intelligence you think you have?

Let me tell you, you evolved because of your ability to betray the very nature that created you.

You evolved because you borrowed fire from the woods (by rubbing it together) and then used the same fire to burn down jungles. You evolved because you begged the hills for shelter, and then broke down mountains to make way for your ambition. You evolved because you stole your breathe from the air and then poisoned the same air with toxics of your dream.

But yes, just like Brutus you all had your own reasons to do all this, a reason that makes you a noble man.

But today, no matter how hard Brutus tries to justify the act, for me this is a heinous act of betrayal.

And make no mistake this act of treachery will not be forgiven. 

O Brutus, I the sword of Julius Caesar Curse you, and I curse all the Brutuses out there, who cover their act of betrayal with cloak of reasoning, no matter how hard you try, you will never move on, no matter how deep you bury your act of treachery it will still come back to you as macabre of your past and drag you into the darkness of your own guilt, and one day you all will die to your own sword.

One day the air, the water, the entire earth will rise against you and bring your ivory tower crushing down. One day you will end up killing each other in the name of love, friendship, country and even god.

And that day, Caesar will be revenged.

The Laughing Dagger - Again

So, finally I tasted Caesar’s Blood. The crimson color blood is intoxicating. And now that I am inebriated I will……Hello……..I am talking to you. You seem to be lost somewhere else. Were you talking to the Old sword of Caesar?

Oh, don’t listen to him he is just a whining sword, who cannot deal with the loss of his master.

Ask yourself, haven’t you moved on….. from being a cave man to a superhuman having control over everything around you.

Do you even remember how many times you used me to stab mother earth for your dreams, for your ambitions? No you don’t or perhaps you don’t even realize you did anything like that. Because like Brutus you had your own reasons to do it, a justification that gives you a license to pursue your dreams at whatever cost.

That is the beauty of being Human, you can justify anything, you can reason any act of yours.

Look within yourself, I am present in each one of you, eagerly waiting for an opportune moment to convert your hidden dreams into reality. Those that you see successful in life, the ‘Alchemists’ that have changed their dreams into reality, do you think they are a different breed? Oh come on……

They just know when to use me; the deft and subtle use of a dagger has made all the difference.

So celebrate being human and keep the lust for growth burning inside you, I will always be around to make you fulfill your dreams at all cost, putting to rest anything that comes between you and your dark desires.

But now I have to go, I have to appear before a hallucinated mind of a man and help him achieve his dreams, a dream that is fueled by prophecies of three witches.

SOME PLACE ELSE

“Is this a dagger that I see before me?” wonders Macbeth, “With its handle towards my hand, come let me clutch thee…………”

Disclaimer: The write up though inspired by William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, is purely personal thought and outcome of the writer's imagination. Here writer has not made any attempt to explain the characters in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. And this is just a fictional narration of Caesar’s assassination. The last line taken from Shakespeare's Macbeth.

Mere Maula.........

कब से तेरे दर पे बैठा हूँ मेरे मौला,
क्यूं तुझको नज़र मिलाने की फुर्सत नहीं है||
क्या मैं नज़र मिलाने के लायेक नहीं हूँ
या तुझ मे नज़र मिलाने की हिम्मत नहीं है||


जब टूटता है मेरे दिल का हर कोना मेरे मौला,
क्यूं तेरे दिल में हल्की सी भी हरकत नहीं है||
क्या मैं तेरे बरकत के लायेक नहीं हूँ,
या तू भी मेरी तरह डूबा गुरबत मे ही है||


जब बहते हैं मेरे आँखों से अश्क मेरे मौला,
क्यूं तेरे दिल में मेरे लिये रेहमत नहीं है||
क्या मैं तेरे उलफत के लायेक नहीं हूँ,
या बची मुझमे पेहले जैसी इबादत नहीं है||


क्या मैं नज़र मिलाने के लायेक नहीं हूँ
या तुझ मे नज़र मिलाने की हिम्मत नहीं है||

I am not your Kept.........

My Passport- Part1

 I looked at my watch. It was 1:10 am, but I could not sleep ...I was still wondering about getting my passport.  This was a great career opportunity and everything was in line, except my passport.

Getting a passport in 10 days?  Well...Impossible.  I closed my eyes, but my mind was still searching for options.

“Should I visit her?” I asked myself. I looked at the watch again. 1:15 am. It was late but anyways I could not sleep. I frantically searched for her card in my cupboard. There it was, kept among my books. I never thought I will use it. I looked at it and noted the address.

Kaur, Rup & Sons
Proprietor – Ms. B. Acharya
393/6/7Z;
Rajouri Garden
New Delhi

I quietly sneaked out of my house and after mindlessly roaming on the roads of Delhi I finally reached her house. Looked at my watch. It was 2:20 am. I knocked at the door. “Come in” a voice called out from inside. Realising the door is already open, I went inside.

 

I AM NOT YOUR KEPT

She was standing in front of a mirror, looking at her own reflection.  Around 5 feet 5 inches tall, her curvaceous body took my eyes for a roller coaster ride.

“So finally you came to me”, She said still looking into the mirror. “Don’t worry, you will not regret” She turned to me, smiling.   My eyes smiled back.

My eye was like a small kid standing at the gate of an amusement park, confused where to start from.

Finally it jumped into her eyes and played with her eyelashes. Then sliding down her sharp nose, it fell on to her lower lips. Her lips were slippery with thick layer of lip gloss on it. My eye slipped off her lips, bounced off her chin and reached her collar bone.

She was not skinny yet her collar bones were so prominent, so sharp they made a cradle below her neck. My eye nestled into that cradle and almost fell asleep.

But then suddenly it saw below her collar bone and with devilish lust on its face it descended down her body.

While all this was happening my ears were focused on her voice. “So, tell me what can I do for you?” She asked.

“I need your help” I answered. She walked towards me.

“Let’s go inside the bedroom first” She said with a mischievous smile on her face. “And don’t worry I will take care of it” She said as if she already knew about my problem. Turning her back towards me she pulled out her hair pin, letting her hair fall loose.  I badly wanted my eyes to look up to her hair once.

But there is one thing about our eyes.  Once they start looking down, it is very difficult to make them look up again.

She came close to me, and holding me in her arms, she whispered in my ears, “Stop pretending, you know....and now even I know, you cannot resist me” She pushed me on her bed.

Explaining what happened after that is not my cup of tea.....Well I don’t have the flair of E. L. James.

I do wish, I had.

But I will tell you one thing, no matter how loudly we proclaim “Being Human”, the physical love making between a man and a woman is god’s way of telling us that we are yet to evolve. Though it all starts in the name of Love, but ends up, making mockery of it.

So, the next 15 minutes was a circus like exhibition where I became a ring master, a loin, a tiger, an elephant, a monkey, a dog......and finally..... a harmless little child.  Exhausted, I closed my eyes and soon fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes, it was 5:30 in the morning.  “Oh God, I will get caught” I mumbled to myself, and started getting dressed as fast as I could. She got up too.

“So you are Getting ready, it’s time to leave I guess?” She asked, lighting a cigarette. “I understand, you don’t want the world to know you were here.”

She went to the window, smoking the cigarette.

 “They all have used me over and over again and yet they pretend as if they don’t know me” she said looking outside the window.  “And you are no different; from tomorrow even you would join the bandwagon of people who curse me.”

“You see the house at the corner of the street?” She asked.

“That is where Mr. Malhotra lives”. She pointed at a house outside. “Mr. Malhotra”, she said. “Has a beautiful wife and an 8 year old son. Every morning on breakfast table, he curses me. From Share market to IPL for every bad news in the paper, Mr. Malhotra has one solution......killing me......” She took a puff on her cigarette and the smoke almost veiled her face. She looked enigmatic behind that veil.

She continued in a pensive tone.

“I still remember, the day he came to me, asking for help to get his son admitted to one of the most prestigious school in town”. She tapped off the ash on the floor; “He wanted his son in that school at any cost ......it was his prestige issue.”

Her eyes were fixed somewhere as if she was trying to recall the incident.

“That day”, she took a puff again, “dressed in a revealing outfit I went with him to meet the school authorities.” She said.

“His son is in Third standard now” She looked at me and winked.   “His neighbour Mr. Kumar made me sleep with the builders to get his flat registered. Mr. Sahay, Mr. Pandit, Mr. Karim, Mr. Singh you name them and I have served them all.” She walked towards me. 

“From getting a driving licence, to gas connections.... even a death certificate you people want me to do it for you. And then you pretend you hate me.”  She said in a harsh tone.

Suddenly her expressions changed from a sensuous seductress to a deeply hurt woman.

“I am what I am, because of you, because of Mr. Malhotra, Mr. Kumar, Mr. Karim... and all those out there who curse my existence during the day time but cling on to me, with all their tentacles, during night, yes..... with all their tentacles” She paused and then continued. “And you humans have many tentacles.”

She was shaking with anger.

“If you really want to get rid of me...just look into my eyes and say that that you don’t need me anymore......but I know, you don’t have the strength to live without me.” She said, walking towards the door.

“Believe me, even I am tired of being with you, standing for you, holding your hand when you make mistakes and bailing you out of your troubles.” She opened the door, as if asking me to leave. I started to walk towards the door.

“While you curse me during the day you quietly sneak into my chamber during night” She caught my hand as I walked past her.  “I am not your kept Mr. Singh” She said and let go my hand. “Either accept me in open or let me go forever.” She banged the door behind me.

 

My Passport – Part2

Suddenly I heard someone knocking at the door.  “Wake up...wake up, it is 9:30 already”. I opened my eyes only to realise I was dreaming all night, I am in my house, on my bed and it is my mother knocking at the door.

 I opened the door and went into the kitchen looking for a cup of tea.

“Where is Dad?” I asked. “He is in the guest room with some agent, who could help us in getting your passport” my mother replied.
“Agent? Where did he get hold of an agent?” I asked, surprised.

“I don’t know, I thought she is here because you called her” My mother replied.

Anyways, still thinking of my dream I came back to my room, slumped on a chair and started sipping the morning tea.

I overheard the conversation going on in the guest room between my father and a lady.

“Well....I should leave now, you just ask him to meet me” the lady said. “Can I look at the newspaper for a moment, please” She asked.

“Yes, of course” my father replied, perhaps he handed over the paper to her.

“Look, now they have a whole election campaign against corruption” She said. “Do you really think you need the Modis and the Kejriwals to fight corruption?” She asked.

“If we want to get rid of it, we just need to look into its eyes and say we don’t need it” She said.

“But the fact is, we cannot live without corruption and will need it, to bail us out of our troubles” She added.

“But one thing we need to understand Mr. Singh, corruption is not our kept that we can use at our will and then curse for the sake of morality” she said in a tone that seemed familiar to me.

I almost choked while drinking my tea. What I just heard gave me goose bumps. With shaking hands I kept my cup on the table and ran to the guest room. She was not there.

“Where is she?” I asked my father. “She left” he replied.

I ran to the gate, but could see her....I ran up to the terrace, I still could not see her.

I came back to the guest room, confused and lost, when my father said “She said you called her, but didn’t want us to wake you up”

“She has left her card on the table” my father added.

I picked up the card from the centre table, and it read.

Kaur, Rup & Sons

Proprietor – Ms. Barshaat Acharya

393/6/7Z;

Rajouri Garden

New Delhi

 

 

(All names and addresses and incidents are purely imaginery and has nothing to do with any one dead or alive...this is just a story...written on corruption.)

I am a sunflower....

Prologue

There she was, standing beside the river, looking at her own image in the water. I went close to her.

 “Isn’t it true, that you have a unique property to track Sun’s path in the sky”. I asked her. She turned towards me. Her face was glowing like a sun. “We call it Heliotropism.” I added. “Helio...what?!!” She exclaimed. “tropism...heliotropism....Well, I have even heard that this behaviour is evident only in immature buds but when a sunflower matures they stop following the Sun” I said. She looked at me as if trying to read my mind. “Yes this is true, but why are you interested in sunflowers” She asked. “Well.... just like that” I replied.

She started laughing. “You humans do a lot of things, just like that, isn’t it?” She asked sarcastically. “Anyway... there is a story behind your.... “Hell...io”...whatever you call it..... only if you are interested in listening?” She asked.

“Yes of course”, I said and sat down, on the grasses, as she narrated me the story..........

I am a Sunflower

You don’t know me...do you? I am a Sunflower.....no, not as beautiful as a red rose, not as aristocratic as a rare orchid. No, I don’t have the fragrance of lavender. I seldom decorate expensive bouquets...but who cares.....The first time I saw myself in the river, I simply fell in love with me.

I can feel the gentle breeze flirting with me. I can see the raindrops taking surreptitious glance at me. I can hear the butterflies singing for me. I notice them yet I pretend not noticing them. They all love me because I love myself. I am a sunflower only because of me.

I always believed that the most beautiful thing god ever created was me. But that day it all changed..........

I saw him appearing from behind the mountains. In unique combination of red and orange he looked very beautiful. He had a calm earthly countenance on his face and a bright heavenly aura around him. When he looked at me, I felt his eyes were burning with intensity of his love. I told my eyes to shut itself, to not to look at him, but my eyes were like rats of Hamelin and he was their pied piper…where ever he went my eyes followed. He resembled me so much, I felt like looking into a mirror. That was when I realised I am a sunflower only because of Him.

 Was this Love at first sight? ......Well what else this could be?

They say he is master of the heavenly bodies; the whole solar system revolves around him…Well….only I know he is there, just for me. They say he is up there in the sky....miles away..... But only I know I am already in his arms. He drew me close to his heart, and even though his heart was a ball of fire I felt as if I was sitting beside a fireplace in a cold winter night. And as his rays touched me, tickled me, I started burning like the Sun and he became as delicate as a flower. Yes.....  I became a sunflower only because of him.

I was lost in his love. The Love, so myopic I could not see anything beyond him. The Love, so transcendental I could see the whole universe in him. I wanted it last forever but suddenly ... I felt his grip weakening, the intensity in his eyes softening. And even before I could open my eyes the dream was over. I saw him descending into the oceans. I could not believe he was leaving me. One by one all his rays pulled off me ....I was scared....very scared.

I went running after him across the sea...over the mountains, with tears in my eyes...but he disappeared below the horizon. My eyes jumped into the ocean and sunk below the horizon but they could not find him.

Tears kept flowing from my eyes like blood oozing out of a fresh wound. No, I was not crying to melt him with my tears. No....I was not crying to link my tears into a chain to strangle him.....I was crying to wash my eyes off its sin. The sin it committed by seeing in him something that never was.

How could they even dream that the traveller in the sky, the keeper of the time would ever compromise his freedom for the love of one sunflower in one corner of the earth?

My eyes were turgid with tears. I could feel the blanket of darkness around me. Yet it was difficult for me to realise he has left me. After all I was a sunflower only because of him.

“Why are you crying?” A voice called out. I looked around but could not see anyone. “Love is not about holding someone hard, love is about having the courage to let go”, said the voice.

 “Who are you? I cannot see you”. I asked, looking in the direction where the voice came from.

“I am your roots”, He said. “You cannot see me, shining in the sky; I am buried deep inside the earth”.

With my head drooping down in sadness, with the darkness around me I released for the first time I have roots. Someone who works day and night to ensure I am beautiful enough to lure a butterfly, strong enough to dance with the breeze and cheerful enough to flirt with the raindrops. “Look around”, he said. “You have branches and leaves too”.

With my head drooping down in sadness, in the darkness of the night, I released for the first time I have branches, which helped me to follow the sun across the sky. They ensured I  danced during the gentle breeze, without getting blown away by the strong winds. I realised, I have leaves that stood by me all along the journey.

That was the time,I finally released, I am a sunflower not because of him, I am a sunflower not because of me, I am a sunflower because of my roots, my branches and my leaves. They were there in brightness of the day; they are here during the darkness of the night.

I know He will come back again tomorrow from behind the mountains. No....I will not hate him...rather I will greet him with a smile. But now I will not follow him in the sky. Because now I know I am a sunflower because of my roots, branches and leaves.

Epilogue

 “From there on I stopped tracking the sun in the sky.” said the sunflower. “Well this is just a story; but objective as you humans are, I guess you would be interested in the science of it” She added. “Do you know even you have roots?” She asked. I shrugged, with an expression of wilderness on my face. She smiled, “Wait till your head droops down in sadness, wait till the darkness sets in, that day you will realise even you have roots, branches and leaves” She said, staring towards the horizon.

With her eyes still fixed on the horizon, she asked, “By the way, what is your name?”

“My name is Suraj” I replied.

“Excuse me????.......Come again!!!!!!!!”.............. Her eyes darted back to me.                                   

The Five Elements

I am the sun, when you shiver in winter.

I am your lamp, when you are lost in dark.

I am the candle, when you celebrate your life.

I am the fire, when you are hungry and you cook.

Because.......I am the ‘Flame’ in your life.

Don’t feel sad....don’t feel guilty if you extinguish me forever with a little puff of air. Because no matter how many times you blow me off, you will need me for one last time. ‘That Day’, when you will be lying lifeless and lonely on your Pyre. I will come back again to take in my arms your lifeless yet ‘lively’ body. To look into your closed yet ‘open’ eyes, to kiss your cold yet ‘warm’ lips. That day I will become you and you will become me.

Yes.....I am the ‘Flame’ in you afterlife as well. 

I am your Sweat, when you toil in the sun.

I am your tears, when you cry Alone.

I am the raindrops, when you dance in the rains.

I am the holy water, when you kneel before god.

I am the water, the Elixir in your Life.

I know one day you will dry me off with the heat of your humanly arrogance. Don’t feel sad, because you will still need me for one last time. ‘That Day' when you will breathe your last, your loved ones will bring me close to your lips. And I will come that day to flow into your dry lips, to quench your thirst for one last time.......

For, I am the Water, the Elixir in your afterlife as well.

I am the soil, when you sow your seed.

I am the sand, when you walk on the beach.

I am your bed, when you sleep on the grasses.

I am the dust, which rises from the ashes.

I am the Earth in your life.

One day you will dust me off and retreat in your ivory tower. Don’t feel lonely that day. For even you know, you will come to me for one last time. ‘That Day’ when the undertaker will lower you into my arms, I will hold you like my newborn child.....forever.

Yes ... I am the Earth in your afterlife as well.

I am the fragrance of a flower, I am the smoke of the fire.

I am the gentle breeze in you, I am the storm of your desire.

I am the Air in your life.

And even though you don’t have time to breathe today, ‘That Day’ you will be desperate for me, That day you will  want me to stay forever.  That day I will flow into you for one last time and your soul will flow with me. 

Yes.....I am the Air in your afterlife as well. 

I am the space....No...I am not in your life. But still you blow off the fire; dry off the water; dust off the earth and block the air.....and all this, just to make Space for yourself.

Why don’t you realise..... Only ‘That Day’ when you will dissolve into your fire, your water, your earth and your air..... only then, you will make space for yourself.

Because I am the Space... Only....Yes Only in your afterlife