The End

rohitthemurari — Tue, 08 Jun 2004 00:56:05 +0530

When you are broken and and don't know what to do
When the men you trust are backstabbing you
When the God you once believed in deceives you
When you are alone thought there is a crowd about you
When you expect good news but it doesn't come to you
When you are broken and don't know what to do

When you are dismayed and your spirit is down
When upon your head is placed a thorn crown
When you are scared of the funniest circus clown
When your wife also refuses to wear your favourite gown
When on introspection you find that your self-esteem is out of town
When you are dismayed and your spirit is down

When you have nothing to hold on to and await death
When you are haggard and gasping for breath
When you have lost everything including your loin sheath
When the only sounds you hear are those of your chattering teeth
When you know that you have been living inside a hearth
When you have nothing to hold on to and await death

You know you are doomed and there is nothing else in store
You have even lost your soul you are worse than a whore
You have only one place to go which is the earth's core
You shuttle without reason unlike waves on the shore
You know to you life doesn't offer much more
You know you are doomed and there is nothing else in store

Dying in peace is all you can respectfully do
Contemplating your retribution is way beyond you
There is so much a man take and the limit has been reached by you
Damn it, there is no one else who can understand this but you
So go while there is still something left in you
Dying in peace is all you can respectfully do

Alexandre Quixote

rohitthemurari — Mon, 19 Apr 2004 09:40:31 +0530

I am Alexandre Quixote, the world’s greatest lover I am
Don Juan De Marco was but a sham
This happens to be a true account of my story
Through which I hope to regain my last glory
That women were his cuisine Casanova once said
Catherine, the Great of Russia died when the harness supporting a Stallion broke over her bed
To them love or lust were two sides of the same coin
If you ask me, they had their brains in their loins
Hence, without taking anymore of your precious time
I begin my story, which is nothing less than divine

My father was a knight in the service of King Henry IV
My mother, a nubile young woman, lived in a village by the shore
It was a fine day, for my mother and father of course
Not too fine a day for the rascals who were slain at their throats
My mother says that it was on a fateful moonlit night, when she was alone
In the grape garden at this hour, she was helpless as a stone
Blackguards that they were they thought of bringing her disrepute and dishonour
For the full moon had hidden itself behind the clouds casting gloom

They approached her from behind and seized her wrists
And spoke to her in a manner befitting not even the anti-Baptists
My mother tried to get away but to no avail
She let out a cry that was very frail
The bastards laughed for they thought for help none would come
They could not have been more wrong for my father was just away a fathom
Knight in shining armour that he was, he could not leave a damsel in her sorrow
He got there on his mare faster than a bow shoots an arrow

Though taken aback, their hands went to their swords
Before they could draw them, my father had slit their vocal cords
My father’s rapier was in a flash back to its place on his waistband
To my blushing mother, he offered his right hand
In the beautiful sunshine, danced and danced did they
Well, mid-morning it was is what my father used to say
The following day they were married in a pristine chapel
And, lived happily till my father was summoned for the battle

It was for two years that the conflict raged on
No one seemed to know which side was on song
My mother says that I was born a year after my father had gone
But, then I must have fought really hard to stay within her womb
Either that or the man who came home often soon after my father went
Was a little more to her than just being a friend
The reason behind I could never comprehend
The man’s disappearance on my father’s advent

I knew that I was God’s gift to womankind the moment I was born
When she had to depart, my nanny was lovelorn
And, when my father put me in school
All the girls their would upon me drool
It is not that my charm victimised only the girls
My teachers, too were taken in by its powerful swirl
Things went so far that my headmaster had little choice
I was ousted from school and put under the tutelage of Mr. Dice

For five years thereafter, I was in the care of my private tutor
More than him I was looked after by his wife and two daughters
I remember during the annual village fair
How all the women on me had fixed their stare
Being a knight, my father attempted teaching me the art of war
He soon realised I could not tell a sword from a scimitar
I could spot a rosebud in a woman’s hair from a mile
During combat, though, I was betrayed by my guile

By 12, I had made a fortune collecting a gold coin each
From every girl to plant a kiss on her cheek
I was a man by the time I hit sixteen
To every maiden’s chamber in the hamlet I had been
I learnt a valuable lesson in my seventeenth year
Avoid married women for their husbands might be near
I nearly lost my head when unexpectedly returned Lady Baton’s man
As soon as I heard his horse, I grabbed my coat and ran

By spring next year, my fame had spread itself far and wide
There were numerous proposals from prospective brides
But, marrying one would disappoint the rest
I could not have lived with that load on my chest
However, the calamity befell when the stars were shining bright
On a cold, clear, winter, new moon night
I saw her, a maiden so graceful and fair
That the sum seemed dull compared to her glare

Her eyes were deep, deep as the ocean blue
Caressed by the wind, her golden strands of silk flew
This time, though, I had beckoned the monster loch ness
For she turned out to be this kingdom’s princess
One day she made me an offer I could not refuse
It was between her and my soul that I had to choose
The fair sex of my village had no solace
Since the moment they learnt I was off to the palace

I had never thought that anything could be as big as the castle
The walls were done up in various shades of pastel
The staircases seemed to run around the earth
As far as women were concerned, there was absolutely no dearth
A hundred of them serviced the King’s bedchamber
The courtesans’ faces glowed the colour of ember
Her Highness, the Queen was all beauty and grace
If only there were more of her, blessed would be the human race

At the Royal banquet on my wedding night
As I was sitting beside my beloved wife
The King held in his hand a glass of red wine
And, made me a toast which I did not find benign
‘To the man’, he said, ‘Who has married the princess this day
Who is faithful and fidel, otherwise he be slain’
I could not catch the humour, but his henchmen guffawed
The courtesans stopped dancing, my mother-in-law could not have looked more appalled

The next morning I was invited to breakfast with Her Highness
She seemed overtly concerned about the apple of her eye, the princess
She said, ‘I know my daughter has not acted right
‘By forcing you to make her your bride
‘You are a man, whose spirit is free, free as the bird in the sky
‘It cannot be chained, hard as the King or the princess may try
‘And, with the King having threatened your life should you be infidel
‘I am not sure how much longer you should stay in the castle’

I was born to love many women, so invariable I knew
That what Her Majesty said was absolutely true
But, where I could go was something I could not understand
After all, who would give refuge to King Henry’s outlawed man?
As if she had sensed my thoughts, Her Highness continued
‘Of course, it won’t be easy, but I will see what I can do
‘Till such time, I’d say stay out of danger
‘And, do not cast your eyes upon the women of bedchamber’

Even as she said it, my mother-in-law had known
That keeping me from the bedchamber was akin to moss growing on a rolling stone
I could only afford a week of abstinence
Then I was hit hard by my fluttering conscience
Not that my wife was not beautiful, she was lovely as can be
But, there are other beautiful women, too, in this world you see
To my great dismay, I found that in the palace word did fast spread
If I did not escape now, I would soon be dead

I turned to Her Highness, she was the only one I could think of
Who could help me before the situation grew more morose
Fortunately, she had made all the arrangements of my leaving the fort
I found myself in a cargo ship travelling up north
The sailors knew who I was but they were well enough paid
To drop me off on the island that their eyes first seemed to gaze
It took them a month to find the first piece of land
I was not too keen to get there for it seemed not one soul had set foot upon that sand

I protested, but the men were not about to relent
They left me there for me to alone for myself fend
I had some supplies to last me till such time
Another ship came, and agreed to give me a ride
After a decade went by I gave up on any hopes that I had
Of seeing another human being, a lass or a lad
Thus, in a bottle my account do I send
For someone like you to find and to history make amends

Poetry

The End

Alexandre Quixote