Friday, 14 August 2009

Jenifer


Two souls lounge on the terrace, lay opposite; their head touching each other’s . Stars are glittering in the clear midnight sky. He chuckles. Then the chuckle turns to a loud screech.

“Jenifer, can you see that star, the one there.” He points to a bright star, turning his head to see if she was looking.

“Humm, yea. I see that.” She replied playfully.

“That’s my mother, she is smiling at me. She wants to tell me something. I can hear her. Can you?”

A short Silence.

“No, I can’t. Perhaps she doesn’t want me to hear it.”

She gets up, takes a pack of Gold flake kept on her side. She empties the cigarette, takes a roll of dried weed, mixes it with the tobacco and stuffs the empty cigarette. The entire act carried out with the skillfulness of a specialist.

She licks the joint with her tongue and lights it. She passes it on to him. He inhales deeply, the glow illuminating his face and clearing the darkness for few moments, just enough to show his shaded, shadowy face. His scrupulous face appearing monstrous in the murkiness of the night.

They lounge again, in the same spot they were before.
He looks at the full moon. He can see the crater. His eyes zoom; the moon comes closer before his eyes. He can see the mountains now.

He chuckles again. His chuckle appear maniacal.

“What da?” She enquires.

“No, I was thinking. “ He chuckles again.

“Those bloody scientists must be high on dope before all the experiments.”

“Hehe….you are right. I can see Einstein stand nude and wonder about those distant objects”.
She replies.

“ What are you thinking so deep?” He asks after few minutes of silence.

“No, I was thinking if you were gay.” She chuckles, and after few moments, her chuckle turns to loud screech.

“ Why?”

“In the morning I opened the door of the bathroom and stood naked before you. You didn’t feel anything?”

He beams, shy fully.

“Tell me?”,She asks.

“No. Well, Humm.” He blushes in the darkness.

“Then why didn’t you do anything to me? Do I look like an archangelic or something?”
He remained silent.

They kissed for the first time ever, on lip, from the time she moved into his meek first floor dwelling. They made love; liberation of concealed passion; a release of craving for carnal pleasures. After the love making they lay naked, looking at the open sky, marveling the splendor of the infinite vastness. They walked back to their apartment in the early hours of the morning, when the first rays of the sun emerged, disturbing their deep slumber. His apartment opened unto the terrace and the terrace was the extension of the house; moments were mostly spent here.


Jenifer had no place in the hostel. An infamous entity; a tarnished façade; an angelic dreamer; a poet of implausible class; a free spirit; a marauder of many manly hearts.
Born into an affluent family, she rebelled. She rebelled against restrictions, their authority, the array and pattern with which she was supposed to live. It all changed when she turned thirteen. That was when the poet emerged out of her. A façade of numerous misdemeanor s; first taste of alcohol at ten; slept with the gardener at thirteen; first cigarette at thirteen; caught stealing father’s scotch whiskey at fifteen .

The darkness of character overshadowed much of her accomplishments; class first from first, till seventh standard; invited to read poetry at the sahitya-academy convention in Delhi at fifteen, stood second in table tennis in state level competition in Trivandrum, etcetera went unnoticed.
Life changed when she eloped with a man twice her age, when at eighteen. Underwent a brief name change from Jenifer Jones to Jenifer Kohli for six months; underwent abortion while in her second month and Divorced later.

He was just out of home. A year junior to her; a withdrawn boy; an introvert; an underprivileged; The son of meager parents. His biggest misgivings were his parent’s meekness, the burden of hopefulness of the dreamy future; being his parent’s perpetrator of dreams; a donkey to carry their burden of hope.

She moved into his one bed apartment shortly after being expelled from the hostel. One of the victims of broken-heart-syndrome drove into her hostel and damaged the lawn, in an effort to get hold of her, but she escaped. Men were perpetually fooled by her closeness, her apparent act of friendliness. She was no one man’s belonging. Men failed to understand that, and went vulnerable to the above mentioned broken-heart-syndrome. She never cared to count the broken hearts.

Once, he had read her diary without her knowledge. Her secret world not shared with anyone. It expressed her anguish, her pain; her regrets.

“How does a delicate feminine spirit survive the callousness of the humanity?” he pondered.

It was after a month that he went home on a short vacation. The usual counsel; the reassurance of burden; to focus on only studies; they were in debt in relation to his education.

“ You know how much of debt we are in. Just remember that Son. Remember it when you spend each rupee.” His father’s departing words stabbed his heart like a sharp pointed knife.

He walked swiftly towards the apartment eager to meet Jenifer; to share his lonesome world with her; for a respite from his worldly burden. The warmth of her body, her scent- partly luxurious French perfume and partly that of her innate femininity, tantalizing him.
He entered his apartment through the doors left open. The clamor of Rock music welcomed his stillness and turned it into an inner tumult. A tempest erupted when he spread his eyes. His well kept hall was a complete clutter and Jenifer sat on the mat with an unknown man. Several empty beer bottles and an filled ashtray covered the mat over which she sat, half inebriated. The man got up when he saw him and left in a scurry.

“ hey, I can explain.” She started to say something, realizing his rage.

He stood silent, staring at her.

“Hey ,Jimmy was passing by and thought , you know, why not drop in. I was all alone you see. I wanted a company. I was bored. That’s why.”

It was partly a rush of adrenaline, and partly his profound frustrations; he walked into the bedroom, opened her large suitcase and stuffed her cloths inside. He walked through the hall and threw the suitcase through the main door. Jenifer stood stunned, not understanding the events that were unfolding before her eyes.

“Get out of my house this moment. I don’t want to see you here anymore. Do you understand?” He screamed.

She was blank faced. She walked to her suitcase, collected it and walked without uttering a word.
He sat on the mattress, covering his face, unbelieving his action. He couldn’t believe he had done that. He sat blank, his anger calming after a while.

He walked towards the room to check the cupboard. He searched through his clothes for any of her leftovers. His hand tumbled over a notebook and he pulled it out. Jenifer’s Diary- He turned the pages and read the written words. Her regrets, her marriage. Her poetries in marvelously graceful expressions, a chirp into her heart. her longing for the man who promised her moon .

He instantly regretted his action. He felt he had known her discreet face. He felt he knew her since long. He felt a sense of affection- perhaps, it was partly an admiration for her poetry , and partly her rebelliousness; her tough persona.

“How does a delicate feminine spirit survive the callousness of the humanity?” he wondered.

He wished for her presence in life, in his dwelling. He heard certain reverberations; some whispers. It sounded feminine.It sounded liker Jenifer.

He rushed and unlatched the door. A Sudden waft of air slapped his face, making him look upwards, towards the clear blue sky.



P.S: DHAN-TE-NAN, Woo-hoo, less than 1500 words. :D

26 comments:

Keshi said...

Zillion hey ty for ur kind words in my blog! Dun worry, I will take a break and come back with a different approach to blogs perhaps. I just need a lil time off...thats all. After all, I cant leave Writing n all of u for good. This place holds a very special place in my heart. Just that right now Im a lil exhausted..thats all :)

ty so much n keep writing! I love this song btw...nice Hindi song :)

Ciao!
Keshi.

Gayathri said...

That was too good..i felt i could visualise the NIT-Mech attitude in some of your descriptions..on dope,going high and all..
I loved these lines in particular.."The clamor of Rock music welcomed his stillness and turned it into an inner tumult. A tempest erupted when he spread his eyes.'
Didnt understand the PS,u saw kaminey???omg!i was waiting for the release,but in mumbai it's postponed indefinitely..hard luck u see..
Btw,9hrs since the post and only one comment?all ur readers are busy making plans for the I-day it seems??
anyway,Happy Independence day :)

ScarletTd1ar1es said...

that was awesome. specially the part about jennifer. and then the diary. good storytelling mahn.

Aparna said...

I could picture everything...the rebellion, the pathos, the heart wrenching desire to be loved. The acceptance at the end.
This was THE best ZB. Too good.

Gymnast said...

WOW. ZB , this was awesome. You best till now.
There are two types of writing , one that gives you pictures and one that makes you feel , that increases your heartbeat and leaves your throat dry.

This belonged to the latter group. There is still a lump in my throat , belive me.

This was excellent.

Standing ovation.

sujata said...

This was certainly your best, I could not draw any parallels from whatever little I know of your life..so am thinking this is 100 percent fiction and a complete wow!! Superb characterizations of both.very vivid, such a meteroic girl, at times I identified with her. It was a pleasure to read this ZB, thanks

anamika said...

While reading it I felt like watching a movie...beautifully presented..

Hey!! i hope all yur blog readers are above 18:D

Hashir Tufail said...

@Zillion,
nice story.... and the best from your pen that I have read (not that I have read many).

Choco said...

This was beautiful. You captured so many emotions...

Neha said...

WOW!!!

before reading this one, only Ian Rand was my favourite when it came to fiction..

loved every word of this post..fantabulous.. :)

ZB said...

@gaya3: Thanks. I havent seen the movie. I am dying to see it. probably on Monday. I have booked my tickets for Monday. Its released here on friday. But houseful. Nowdays Indian films release here the same day. :)

@Scarlet: Thanks Buddy. Your writup is no less awesome. Cheers:)

ZB said...

@Aparna: Thanks, and coming from you it means a lot. :)

@Gymnast: Thanks, i am overwhelmed. And special thanks for the standing ovation.:))

ZB said...

@Sujata: Thanks a ton. I am glad :)

@Anamika: Thanks. i am so grateful that you read all my stories. I feel great when i read your comments. All the bloggers are 18, atleast mentally. :)

ZB said...

@HAshir: Thanks mate;)

@Choco: Thanks buddy.:)

@Neha: I am glad you said it. Thanks buddy. Theres nothing greater than reading encouraging words. TC:)

Sucharita Sarkar said...

Nice one! Here's to all the sad, sensuous, mixed-up, maudlin, heartbroken, heart-breaking Jennifers of the world...

The abstract scientist said...

Hey ZB,
I think this is one of ur best works literature wise. Beautifully drafted raw eroticism. Loved reading it and got transported into your story.

ZB said...

@Sucharita: Thanks A ton. Yea toast to all Jenifer's of the world. :)

@Abstract: Thanks buddy. And i was just thinking where did you disappear. WOW< THANKS FOR SO MANY COMMENTS ON MY LAST SO MANY POSTS. GOD BLESS :))

Nikki said...

I wrote something similar long back. It was called Sex and cigarettes. check it out if you like!

Nice write up... :)

The Panorama said...

Hey, where did my comment disappear? I left one here...maybe forgot to post it.

It was a good story though the end quite predictable. Jennifer is a typical artist in some way. Brilliant but lacks empathy and has no clue how her behaiour can hurt others. They live in their own reality, artists and creative people.

Am sure she will end up alone and miserable one day.
Good story:)

ZB said...

@Nikki: Thanks, i will check it out. ")

@Panorama: thanks Buddy. Actually the whole story revolves around the end.I thought it was unpredictable.

BTW: The Jenifer in my story is based on a living person( partly- only the character) , and she is extremely successful today.She is the founder, CEO of an extremely successful Advt Agency in San Fransisco USA. I just wanted to add that our notions of success and character need not be true. I know a lot of good guys moving around unsuccessful.

Thanks :)

The Panorama said...

What about success in personal relationships? If she is this person seeking constant excitement and gets easily bored she is unlikely to stay with one person for long. She may be very succesful in her career( after all they are brilliant, right?) but may still end up alone and miserable.
That's what I meant:)

ZB said...

@Panorama: Success is a subjective word. it means differently to different people.

In personal relationship too she is successful, since her definition of success means freedom and not tied to any bond. She is happy, she may not be if she were married. She doesnt need to marry to get a man in her life. Men flock her. Even she gets old, she will have people in her life, since she is successful.

Thanks for the comment, i will read your post shortly. a bit tied down and not in mood right now. TC:)

Babli said...

Lovely post.You have presented very beautifully and I enjoyed reading it.
Wish you a very Happy Independence Day.

Vee said...

Nicely put

Aparna said...

There's an award for you at my post.

thick wire said...

nicely written, neat language. if you could read my blog and tell me what you think, that'll be greately appreciated.