So I promised I wouldn't write for Arhi anymore but I'm making an exception today. But I still can't bring myself to use their names so just bear with me, OK?
This one is for Nags, Happy Birthday; I hope work gave you a break for 24 hours at least.
She sat in her library, the room she felt most comfortable in, the room that was her most prized possession, hard earned, hard won. Loud music reverberated through the walls and Pedro's words resurfaced; "You look like a girl who'd enjoy chocolate," a fancy gift basket in his hands, an obvious effort to apologize for calling her a frigid bitch when he was drunk a few days ago, "it's not good for my skin so I thought you'd like it."
She smiled ruefully, caressing the spine of a leather-bound volume. Life in Spain was everything that she'd hoped for, everything that she'd dreamed of since she was ten. I just hope it's worth all that you're giving up, her mother's disapproving sniff dogged the happy feeling, bursting its bubble till she felt a gnawing emptiness inside that she'd been feeling for some time now, not really understanding it, not wanting to either.
She walked out of the library in her three roomed apartment, picking up a pretentious piece of chocolate from one of the boxes in the gift basket, chewing it thoughtfully as she walked in to her room, the bead large, too large for one person, and sat in the middle of it, wiggling her toes as she tried to decipher what she wanted to do, the next step in complete independence.
Breathing a deep sigh she got up off the bed and walked in to the least used room of her home, her dressing room, a complete waste of space was what she had called it when she was screening places to live in, most of the space held books that didn't fit in to the library at the moment for lack of shelf space.
She was an odd girl by far; her idea of retail therapy was going to the nearest book store and splurging on books old and new, large and small, hard and paper backed, an insane happy smile gracing her lips as she stood at the counter to pay for them. All the store keepers knew her by sight now and enjoyed her custom once a week.
She ignored the books today, walking to the section that held her clothes, colorless and fairly boring, pant suits, a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts and one dress, the only girly thing she had and which had been forced on her by ChAnni when she was packing for Spain.
"Promise me you're going to use this," she had said, her eyes pleading for a promise they were sure she wasn't going to keep.
She pulled it now, a navy blue concoction of simple cuts and staggeringly small length. She pulled it on, her hair an artful mess of natural curls that she brushed once before applying a layer of simple pink lipstick and that was it, that was all she was equipped to do.
She pulled on her sensible heels that didn't really go with the dress, but she wouldn't know a fashion faux pas if it hit her in the face, making it worse by slinging her large black bag on her shoulder. She picked up her keys off the small console table by the door and walked out, girding her loins for the inevitable, knowing it would be a disaster of epic proportions but she needed to give it a try, she owed herself that much.
*
The bar was crowded; the monotonous beat that burst forth through the invisible speakers was making her heart bounce within her ribs, her toes squirming within her shoes. She nursed her drink, the fruity little drink 'coz she can't hoot whisky. She had snorted when she'd told the bartender that's what she'd wanted, brown eyes looking back at her with bemusement, an eyebrow lifted to question what was so funny, and she'd stopped laughing. No one did get her jokes, it had always been so.
"Three beers, and six shots of tequila," the man shouted to one of the bartenders drumming the dark polished wood as he waited for his drinks, looking down at her, his eyes roving over the dress with a flash of interest, then the plain face and eyes trained on her drink. "Hey," he said with a crooked smile and she looked up in hazel eyes in a burnished bronze face, his smile lopsided and unaffected.
"Hi," she said cheerfully, her face open and friendly.
"You waiting for someone?" he asked.
"No, I mean I'm not here with anybody, I just got bored sitting at home, not that I don't have friends, I do, they don't live here though, I'm fairly new here myself so I'll probably make friends soon," she blabbered.
"I see," he said, his eyes carrying a hint of hesitation now, "OK," he said nodding picking up the tray laden with alcohol, "see you around then."
"Sure," she said going back to her drink, a sense of relief that he was gone mingled with the faint reproach of ChAnni somewhere back in India. Shut up OK? She muttered under her breath swiveling in her seat so she could look at the dance floor, the flashes of light that hit writhing bodies, illuminating them in bursts of jittering epileptic jolts.
A wry smile touched her lips and she turned around, pawing through her large bag till she found a pen. She removed the napkin from beneath her glass and began to scribble away:
The pagan rhythm of the metallic beast
Mirrors the hammering of my heart
And the tribe gathers swells and shivers
As one, a pack of animals
We are all savages at heart
Together we will conquer all
Alone we will perish
She smiled to herself, chewing the back of her pen as she poured over the small poem, not really happy with it when a large hand slammed in front of her, the tips of its fingers brushing the napkin she was doodling on.
"You need anything else?" the bartender asked, his brown eyes a molten caramel under the flashing lights, his expression as serious as it was before, a small crease in his brow communicating his displeasure at sipping the same drink for the past hour and occupying the barstool.
"Uh… no," she said meekly, capping her pen and shoving it back in her bag, placing the money she owed on the highly polished wood before she sidled off the stool and headed out though, maneuvering herself as best she could through a press of people.
The air outside was pure Mena from heaven. She filled her lungs and began to walk down the dark streets, the time of night unknown to her but the stars above were bright flaming beacon's guiding her way.
"Hey nia bonita, Est buscando un buen momento?" the loud slurring call from across the street stopped her in her tracks. She watched as three hulking figures began to walk towards her, their tread heavy and sure, their eyes undressing her as she stood there, a deer in headlights, her heart beating just as hard as it was in the club, but this was worse, much, much worse.
A sense of panic seized her and her throat collapsed in on itself so she couldn't scream in terror like she wanted to as they got closer, surrounding her so she had nowhere to run, the smell of alcohol wafting off their clothes till she could choke in it.
This is it, her mind sobbed silently; all of Ma's fears will be realized tonight.
"Take whatever you want," she said shakily as she extended her bag, "just please let me go."
"Oh vamos a tomar eso tambin, pero primero mi pequeo," the tiny one drawled, his ferret like face pinched under the street lights that pooled around them, making the rest of the world blacker than black, bleak and desolate.
The tall hulking one stood behind her, his beefy arm grabbed her arm and she was spun around and shoved out of the pool of light, backed off in to the adjoining alley, the putrid smell of rancid garbage assaulting her senses, making her feel sicker, fear clogging her orifices till she felt like she would choke on her terror and die, welcoming the idea so she wouldn't have to go through what their leering smiles promised.
"Djala en paz," a new voice, a faintly familiar voice from the mouth of the alley distracted her, the street light glowing a halo around the head of the new arrival. The bartender, she thought frantically as his face caught the light.
"Back away in to the alley," he called, and she did as she was told, her legs jittery and not very well coordinated. The three drunken figures turned on him, their sneering jeers in Spanish loud and mocking, one even made a rude gesture with his hand while the other kicked a rock in the bartender's general direction.
"Me llev a mis amigos conmigo para jugar," the bartender said his voice slightly amused, "espero que no te importe," the men who joined his were huge, their torsos incased in shirts three sizes too small to display every toned rippling muscle. It seemed to have the needed affect and the drunkards backed off, their hands rose. There were many "Ays," and "Ohs," as they began to feign comradery and even though she didn't understand the language much she got that they were playing the 'no harm no foul' card.
The bartender let them go, the bouncers glaring after them till they turned a corner and went out of sight. She came forward then, clutching at her bag, feeling extremely ashamed as well as mortified and angry at her inability to help herself, to be dependent on a man's help.
"Thank you," she said when she came level to the bartender, the bouncers nodding before they headed back to the club, the bartender however gave her a sneering look full of contempt. "Do everyone a favor and don't come out of your home if you're this socially inept. It's not my job or anyone else's to save your sorry ass."
He nudged past her hard, her body swinging away as he headed down the street. Socially inept, she thought with a slow burn down her spine, and this is why I don't come out of my library ChAnni. She hiked up the strap of her bag and walked in the opposite direction, a scorching email already forming words in her head.
Yes I know. Lame.
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
Fan Fictions
