Desi Train

At a stage in life, where friends her age would be rushing their kids to school, she stood alone, on the terrace of her office building. The Los Angeles skyline clear, visible and strangely looking very beautiful. She carefully folded her jacket and placed it on the floor over the last letter she would ever write. She pulled a corner of the letter from underneath the jacket so the words “For PS, my only friend” would be visible. Strangely she felt quite calm, unlike the strong jaws of depression which had her screaming a day ago.

I love you Mom…
Dad, forgive me for I could not become what you dreamed of…
Raj…I still love you….

And then she flew. She faced the sky as she took the drop. As Seema Rao stared at the sky during her descent, one last thought passed by… The sky… it’s never looked so beautiful… so peaceful…

 

Kabir Mehra’s house had always seen a crowd of people flowing in and out all the time. And he hated it. It did not help that both his parents were from the entertainment industry. His parents’ marriage had transformed into an understanding. An understanding which meant that Kabir saw his Dad bringing in a new girlfriend every few weeks, while his Mom would be busy breaking the glassware in the kitchen over her latest breakup with the new boyfriend. In the beginning he tried to distract himself. But when his home became the butt of jokes amongst his classmates and friends he played with, he withdrew, from his family, his friends, from himself. It would be rare to see Kabir speak more than a few words. By the time he was ready for college, Kabir had a burning desire to leave home. He enrolled for a management course in NYU.

The flight from Bombay to New York was the happiest journey of Kabir’s life. Things started happening. Jenny brought in a lost possession – happiness - in Kabir’s life. For the first time ever he dared to open up. They would hold hands while lying in the balcony of Jenny’s condo, watching the stars over beer and rambling about life till the wee hours of the morning. Kabir, saw life, for the first time ever. And he thanked PS over and over again for introducing him to Jenny.

“I’m not ready for marriage” is all Jenny could utter, while Kabir knelt down, holding the ring. He had graduated a week ago and with a job offer in his pocket, he wanted to complete the circle of happiness. “Kabir…I like you…but marriage…”

It all came back. The darkness. The sadness. The thorns of depression piercing all over his body.

Locked in his room for over a week, Kabir found his life hadn’t changed at all. Jenny and the happiness she brought with her, was all an illusion. He called India to speak to his Dad as a last resort. His Dad was pissed drunk when he picked up the phone. There was no point in asking Dad for help. His mom was in Australia with her new boyfriend who was barely older than Kabir. Jenny had left two dozen messages. But they were like cotton swabs rubbed over a doctor’s injecton.

Eighth day. It was time. Bowing to his only precious item, a book, on the life of Swami Vivekananda, Kabir climbed the chair and put the noose on. The tears in his eyes, barely allowed him to see anything. He heard the sound of the chair rolling on the floor…a sudden pain…pictures rushed in front of his eyes…Jenny was smiling…Dad getting a blowjob from a third rate actress…Mom being banged by her young lover in the kitchen…Dad slapping him for rushing into the bedroom…Mom screaming at him to leave her alone…His flight to New York… picture of Vivekananda…PS happily slapping his back…Jenny rushing to him giggling all around…it’s all an illusion… and then….Blank…….Darkness.

 

If anyone told Sasi that he would be holding a pistol in real life, he would have laughed at it…hard. Sasi lay there with a bunch of his closest friends, drinking beer on top on one of those beautiful Ooty hills. Carefree, happy and enjoying each moment of his life. Many of his evenings were spent in an environment he found utmost happiness in- hanging out in the laps of the mesmerizing hills, shaded evenings, cool beer and a warm company of friends over hot topics from Movies to A.R. Rahman. And he hated going home each time. His father’s business was crumbling. For the first time he heard words like “Not enough money”. His younger brother had to drop out of the private engineering college, while Sasi was being gently requested by his parents to find a sponsor, if he wanted to pursue his Masters in the US.

“Dude do you have a credit card” asked the cute blonde next to the Credit card stall on campus in Michigan University. Sasi needed money. He got his first credit card.

Every phone call to his parents would lead to a massive shopping spree. It was difficult to face the intense financial downfall his Dad was facing. He couldn’t bear to hear his Dad’s defeated voice or his Mother’s sobs. He looked around for friends. There were none. None he could connect to like those back home. Sasi realized one thing: He was alone. And each time this thought passed by, it would take Sasi deeper into the throes of darkness.

Eleven months after graduation Sasi still didn’t have a job, when the call came in. It was his younger brother from India “Dad’s had a massive heart attack….we need money…or we won’t be able to save him”.

With trembling hands Sasi checked the balances on all his four credit cards. $0, $0, $3.00, $10.65. He called up each of his credit card companies. None increased his credit limit. He rushed and dived into his trash can. Marketing letters from credit card companies.

“Sir we need two weeks to process an application”.
No No No. I need the money now!
His plea fell on deaf ears.

He didn’t call his brother for the next two days, it was too painful to tell that he had no money. Four days after receiving his Dad’s news, Sasi received the call. It was his brother. Their father had passed away.

I need to distract myself. Another pain. Another sadness. I need to do something. Sasi took his jacket and stepped out of his shared apartment. It was 9am. Washington was cold. Wave after wave of people rushed past him. He looked in their eyes. They were lost in the need to get to work. He stood there in the middle of the sidewalk. No one cared to look at him. No one bothered.

Fifteen years ago he had stood here, holding his Dad’s hand, his first visit to America.
“So many people Papa.”
His Dad had laughed…Don’t be afraid. I’ll never let go of your hand

Dad never let go of my hand. But I did…Sasi walked back to his apartment. He went to his American roommate’s closet and pulled out the pistol. He sat on his bed. And then it all fell apart. The pain was taking its toll. This time Sasi had no escape, no distractions, and no credit cards for his shopping spree. The dam broke. Sasi dropped to the floor in a fit of intense crying. There was nothing left. Nothing to live for. He had lived and failed.

It was time…

The Korean carpet cleaners had a hard time removing the stains. For some time they tried guessing what those dark red stains spread all over the carpet were after which they went back to rubbing those red spots off the carpet.

 

Radha Marathe was in love. Eric was a handsome blonde who could make her laugh, keep her excited, and give her special passes to football games he played in. The only thing that made Radha nervous was when Eric would reach for her thighs. She would sweat. She would tremble. She was a virgin and wanted to be till she married Eric. Her deep spiritual upbringing did not allow her that. And Eric would reply “I understand”, kiss her, take her hand and hold it ever so warmly. Radha had known Eric for just over two months, but it seemed she had known him for ages. Inspite of PS’s warnings, a fellow desi, Radha had gone ahead and met Eric for a date and there was no looking back since then. How wrong had PS been!

Everything had been perfect in Radha’s life. She would thank the Lord, for giving her the best parents anyone could have ever asked for. She and her sister were brought up in the most warm and loving way possible. She had been a top of the class student all her life and was now in San Francisco University, all expenses paid by her sponsors, courtesy her top grades. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday would find her at the local Hindu temple nearby her place.

Krishna was the foundation of her life, HE kept her life in balance, HE kept her happy. And she would worship Lord Krishna from the depth of her soul. “I would have married you if you came to earth…but for now I think Eric will do in your absence” – she would laugh each time she said that…joking at her beloved Lord Krishna, who stood there all smiling and looking at her with utmost love.

The New Year Eve’s party was grand. Radha had never seen a party with so many people in it. The mansion belonged to one of Eric’s football friends. After her usual customary “no thanks” to the beer offer, Eric gave her a Pepsi. Muttering sweet nothings in her ear, Eric held her warm and tight.

“I love you” Eric seemed to be saying. Me too, she softly muttered. Eric took her hand holding the glass of Pepsi, gently taking it to her lips for her to sip it. Eric kissed her lips. Warmth and affection spread all over her body. She kissed Eric back.

Another sip of her drink. Eric’s hands moved all over her back and below. She wanted Eric. No not yet. We are not married.

“Let’s go to one of the rooms up there”. Before she could say anything, Eric had her hand and was pulling her through the crowd laughing and dancing all around. She felt her head swim…

I…I’m not feeling good.
“That’s ok. It’s the food. Here have another sip of your drink.”
She wanted to resist, when Eric rubbed his hands on her thighs and took her pants off. She tried to resist. Her body didn’t move.

No…no…she tried to move her hands to push Eric back. Her hands lay on her sides, they did not move…stone cold. Eric had torn her blouse off. Eric…please…she had tears in her eyes. A sharp pain and grunting is what she got back in return.

Eric was in her…“God I waited two months to get your tight pussy…Damn!!!”….Eric was thrusting hard inside her…

The door flung open….Eric’s football teammates
“DAMN BRO…YOU BANGED THAT ASS!!!!!!!”

Eric moved over. He was finished. A tall heavy guy threw himself on her

She tried to scream…but there was no sound…her energy had left her. Her body lay there like a stone. The Pepsi spiked with drugs had taken its effect.

YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
Radha could hear the cheers in the background encouraging the next guy who mounted her.

A question dipped in the fiercest of volcanoes took birth in her. She wanted to ask the question, but her lips didn’t move…

By the time the Fifth guy was on top of her, she had given up all resistance and had embraced the pain, the intense tragedy of her situation.

Krishna…Krishna…Krishna…save me…Krishna…Krishna…but there was no help. No Krishna.

YO YO YO YO YO YO GIVE IT TO HER BRO GIVE IT TO THE BITCH

The question was hammering it’s fists inside her. Punching her…Ask the question DAMN IT! Yet, however hard she tried she couldn’t move an inch. Her lips stayed put.

The tenth guy who mounted her was pissed drunk. The alcohol took it’s effect. As he ejaculated inside Radha, he threw up all over her face.

Somebody shouted “DAMN BROTHER…WATCH OUT…DON’T MESS WITH THE MERCHANDISE ASSHOLE”

YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO

With tears rolling down she tried hard to stare at a dark spot on the ceiling above her…in a false hope that she could forget what was going on.

They took that away from her. The eighteenth guy rolled her over on her stomach…

“I WANT HER ASS GUYS….”

YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO

She saw Eric sitting on the chair. The question raised it’s head again. Burning in a fire intense. She moved her lips to spit the question out, but there was nothing. Her face was frozen.

Eric snorted some cocaine off the table. A half empty beer mug in his hands.

“You enjoying it babe?”

Radha could only roll down another tear on that question….

Golden Gate Bridge. It was here that Eric had first kissed her. Tonight she stood there alone. Her body - torn and tattered.

WHY DID YOU LET IT HAPPEN? I LOVED YOU WITH MY SOUL…YOU DID NOT PROTECT ME…ANSWER ME…But Krishna had stood there in the temple. Smiling at her. There was no reply.

They may have taken my body…but my soul belongs to you Krishna…

Radha Marathe took the jump…

Just before she hit the water, the burning question rang again…

Why Eric?

[ End ]

 

 

[Part 1 - Desi Souls: Lost in America]

This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 1st, 2006 at 12:51 pm
Filed under Desi Soul Series, Fiction
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