One of my mother's favourite song.. it's a beautiful song! Enjoy it mom! :)
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Saturday, May 10, 2008
Thursday, May 01, 2008
The town was devoid of green vegetation, a hot fierce breeze blew through it. The jeep stopped in front of the old house, which was just falling short of being called a ruin. He got down from the jeep, shielded his eyes against the hot afternoon sun, and after looking at the house, stared back at his friend, with anger in his eyes. His friend just shrugged and waved at the driver to start the jeep.
He stood on the road, in front of the gates, with his hands still shielding his eyes, he watched the house. Its garden was dry, a few pots were lined along the couple of the stairs which led to the door. The walls were bare and seemed that never were they coated with paint. The windows had their panes missing and the wooden frames had decayed long back, they appeared to be just holes in the old walls.
He shook his head in vain, and opened the gates, he slowly walked towards the door. The door, was locked, he peeped in through the broken window, the house had only one huge hall, and there weren't any other rooms in it. He sat at the stairs, and waited.
He didn't realize how long he waited, and when did he start fondling with the pot kept next to the stairs. When suddenly, his hand touched something funny, he picked it up, and when he looked at it, it was a black doll. He stared at it, the doll was barely 4 inches tall, and it appeared that not a skilled person had stitched the doll. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing either, as the doll had its face and limbs painted in white. He looked at the pot, and realized that the doll was tied to the plant with a black thread. The plant was dry and the mud in the pot seemed untouched for years. He threw the doll back in the pot, when something poked his finger. A drop of blood soon appeared at the tip of his finger, he squinted at the pot, and saw that a tiny nail stuck out from the place where the doll was earlier tied. He rolled his eyes, and kicked the pot in anger.
He sat waiting again, the afternoon didn't seem to end, the sun was still high up in the sky. When he looked down, his eyes fell on the old woman at the gate, she stood there staring at him. Her hair were white, but dirty, her white gown, was tattered and she looked filthy. He couldn't clearly look at her face, as her hair fell upon her face. There was a huge sack which she dragged behind her. He got up as she approached him. He was still observing the old lady as she pulled her sack behind her, while climbing the stairs.
He suddenly heard hurried footsteps behind him, he turned to look, finally they had arrived. The girl ran to him, while the old lady, her grandmother, who accompanied the girl, walked as fast as she could with the help of her walking stick. The girl held his hand, when she felt the wet blood, she looked at his finger and then looked in his eyes puzzled. Her grandmother reached to her as she stood there staring at his blood stained hands.
The creaking of the old doors, caught their attention. The old lady in white had entered the hall and was seated on the floor untying her sack. The girl stared alarmingly, and quickly looked at her grandmother with concern. Her grandmother returned her concerned look and looked down at the boy's hands, as blood slowly trickled down his fingers. He stood there looking at his hands, he was puzzled, thinking how can a mere pricking of the nail make his hand bleed so much.
The girl squeezed his hands, he lifted his eyes to look at her, she had spotted the pot and the voodoo doll, she turned to look at him. She had turned white with fear, she passed a questioning look at him, and he nodded in affirmation. She started breathing heavily, she was panicking, she pulled her grandmother's arm and beckoned her towards the door. They both quickly turned towards the door, and froze almost immediately. They stared with their mouth agape at the old lady inside the hall.
The old lady and extracted the corpse of a girl from her sack. The girl must have been some 13 or 14 years old. Her waist length hair fell over her shoulders, her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were partially shut, where only the whites of her eyeballs were visible. Her frozen blood, made her appear blue. The old lady looked at the three of them, her eyes were bloody red and her pupils were white. The three of them stood there looking at Death staring back at them.
He stood on the road, in front of the gates, with his hands still shielding his eyes, he watched the house. Its garden was dry, a few pots were lined along the couple of the stairs which led to the door. The walls were bare and seemed that never were they coated with paint. The windows had their panes missing and the wooden frames had decayed long back, they appeared to be just holes in the old walls.
He shook his head in vain, and opened the gates, he slowly walked towards the door. The door, was locked, he peeped in through the broken window, the house had only one huge hall, and there weren't any other rooms in it. He sat at the stairs, and waited.
He didn't realize how long he waited, and when did he start fondling with the pot kept next to the stairs. When suddenly, his hand touched something funny, he picked it up, and when he looked at it, it was a black doll. He stared at it, the doll was barely 4 inches tall, and it appeared that not a skilled person had stitched the doll. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing either, as the doll had its face and limbs painted in white. He looked at the pot, and realized that the doll was tied to the plant with a black thread. The plant was dry and the mud in the pot seemed untouched for years. He threw the doll back in the pot, when something poked his finger. A drop of blood soon appeared at the tip of his finger, he squinted at the pot, and saw that a tiny nail stuck out from the place where the doll was earlier tied. He rolled his eyes, and kicked the pot in anger.
He sat waiting again, the afternoon didn't seem to end, the sun was still high up in the sky. When he looked down, his eyes fell on the old woman at the gate, she stood there staring at him. Her hair were white, but dirty, her white gown, was tattered and she looked filthy. He couldn't clearly look at her face, as her hair fell upon her face. There was a huge sack which she dragged behind her. He got up as she approached him. He was still observing the old lady as she pulled her sack behind her, while climbing the stairs.
He suddenly heard hurried footsteps behind him, he turned to look, finally they had arrived. The girl ran to him, while the old lady, her grandmother, who accompanied the girl, walked as fast as she could with the help of her walking stick. The girl held his hand, when she felt the wet blood, she looked at his finger and then looked in his eyes puzzled. Her grandmother reached to her as she stood there staring at his blood stained hands.
The creaking of the old doors, caught their attention. The old lady in white had entered the hall and was seated on the floor untying her sack. The girl stared alarmingly, and quickly looked at her grandmother with concern. Her grandmother returned her concerned look and looked down at the boy's hands, as blood slowly trickled down his fingers. He stood there looking at his hands, he was puzzled, thinking how can a mere pricking of the nail make his hand bleed so much.
The girl squeezed his hands, he lifted his eyes to look at her, she had spotted the pot and the voodoo doll, she turned to look at him. She had turned white with fear, she passed a questioning look at him, and he nodded in affirmation. She started breathing heavily, she was panicking, she pulled her grandmother's arm and beckoned her towards the door. They both quickly turned towards the door, and froze almost immediately. They stared with their mouth agape at the old lady inside the hall.
The old lady and extracted the corpse of a girl from her sack. The girl must have been some 13 or 14 years old. Her waist length hair fell over her shoulders, her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were partially shut, where only the whites of her eyeballs were visible. Her frozen blood, made her appear blue. The old lady looked at the three of them, her eyes were bloody red and her pupils were white. The three of them stood there looking at Death staring back at them.