Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The Woman on the Calangute Beach




There she is.
As the wondering clouds slowly exposed the moon,as the sandy winds embarked on a high note, as the coconut trees signals towards the elapsing away of the silent fog..
There she is.

I am standing in the verandah. It is almost one the morning. And from this scarce distance also I can see her through the steamy fog which is decreasing now bit by bit.
The town behind me is sleeping, only some street dogs waiving their tail and looking for some scattered food in the empty road. Just opposite me the light of the hotel still twinkling, maybe somebody has forgotten to put it off, from a distant a sound of a fading roaring bike came..
I looked again.
She is standing again by the sea.
With that same unmindfulness, a lostness in her whole appearance.
I came to Goa, three days ago and for the last two nights I saw her coming at this dead night and standing and walking there calmly.
Who is she?
Though the question is totally meaningless and I have no right to ask it.
But as a human being when I see a woman coming everyday at the same time and standing at the beach with such lostness my sensitivity rouses and make me curious?

I want to know about her.
Seeing this happen for two days thus I started enquiring about her.
Firstly, our hotel manager who is totally a bull shit and got me totally wrong and even indicated me that she can help me about a girl for a night.

Though the question that came in to my mind was that do that lady is a localite?
From her appearance and dress it looked so to me.

At that time an old man with numerous wrinkles who runs a wine bar just opposite to my hotel..helped me out.
As I went yesterday there for a glass of beer, I found out that he is smiling towards me.
I went to him and asked, the reason.

The old man with a pipe in his mouth said, ‘I listened to your enquiries about Liza from Mathur!’
Mathur is our hotel manager.

‘Who is Liza?’
‘Well man, the girl about whom you are asking..why mate..whats the issue?’

I told him the reason.

‘Why, don’t you think it is personal matter?’
‘I know, but I found her intersting’.

The old man looked towards me..and smiled.. ‘Everybody finds her interesting..’
‘But why does she comes at the beach at the dead night?’
The old man gave a bite in the pipe and said.. ‘because it is there where she lost her boy-friend..the only thing she got in her life’

‘How?’

‘No body knows, some says he was drowned, some says the guy has ditched her!’
‘What is the truth?’
‘Don’t know..the only thing that can be is that Liza comes at the beach in the night..for what I don’t know may be to find his memories, or may be to find herself..

‘Where can I find her?’

‘She works as bartresses in ‘Goden Sand Resort’..she earlier worked here but time changed and I am wrecked now dear..no money to pay for fun..’


At that moment I started searching for the answer. And for that I have to wait only for night.

Now she is there.
I don’t want to waste the chance.

Soon I was in the beach.
Clouds now broken into pieces.
Moon light flooding the sea-shore.
Sea waves crushing on the shore with silver lining.
Sky now full of glowing stars.
Fog totally disappeared.

I stopped.
Because she is standing before me.

Winds blowing in a hush.
And now one such sweeping sandy winds hit me.

And not only me.
The woman also who is standing before me.
Again the sandy winds passed.

The light of the moon glowed with all her pride.
And she turned back.

For a moment I became mesmerized!

As before me not only a woman is standing..but she is the last word for beauty..
Her hair almost brown have a silky touch for the moon..her eyes..perhaps the best expression of senses..where within a lostness a glow of beauty is shining..her lips..trembling a bit like an untouched petals of a flower..her neckline..as if the perfect arc of geometry..within her v-cut T-shirt her bust-line like a deep cascade is visible..her breasts an invitation to the undiscovered valleys lies..her feet engraved in sand and continuously making marks..footmarks of a beautiful lady..within her whole picture there was not a single trace of exposure of naked beauty..the beauty is naked no doubt..but of sublime perfection..and treasure..more so because the woman who is standing before me looking lost and thus totally unconscious of her stunning beauty..

Again a brushing of sandy winds.
I came back to senses.
And at that time I found that she has kept her eyes on me.

I started searching words but managed only one.. I uttered.. ‘Liza’..

And at the next moment she stepped back and started running back..her short skirt getting more wet..her feet moving more fast..her brownish hair in strings flying parallel to the moonlit night..
I tried to walk in the path she ran but then gave it up..
For what she ran away from me?
I havn’t asked her a single question even?
But where I would find my answer?
Where?

Feeling perplexed I turned back.

While walking slowly along the beach I saw scattered on the beach different sketches of the night..a boat man repairing his wrecked boat which for long is earthed to the ground..a young boy who sells little parachute to kids counting money with his eyes full of tears..a couple kissing restlessly..a boat boy going for a ride in speedboat at this long past midnight..a girl looking like a college girl drinking and talking loudly in her own .. a local person listening to Goanese song in radio sitting beside a thatched umbrella..
All pictures of different moods of life..or may be incidents which is happening only at this particular moment of life..may be all this has happened earlier many times..it would happen again and again..but still this moment..this incident is new..a part..a feature of this very particular night..whose significance is only that all these are by itself insignificant..

I walked on..
Through the sands..over the ripple marks of thousands..
I realized that why I am trying to unravel the secrets of these insignificant incidents..I have no right to disturb the balance..the mood of life..I should keep it as it is.. in its own tune..

I walked back to the hotel..
Leaving behind me many questiones..
Which have no answers..

Next morning I went to that old man and after saying him about my night episode asked him, ‘Why havn’t she replied once to me,why?’

‘Have you searched her today?’ the old man asked.
‘Yes, I do searched her at the resort she walks. She was not there!’

‘Then I am afraid you have lost her!’

I smiled..’Well, I never wanted to make her mine..just wanted to ask her in details what exactly happened to her..and why she comes at beach every night. Everything is granted still, but hey can you say me why she ran away from me?
I stopped. Then said, ‘I want an answer from her..’

The old man looked at me and smiled again..and then said, ‘Sorry, my boy, but that you can never get!’

‘Why?’

Through the verandah of this wrecked pub the morning sea can be seen. The sunlight shining clearly on the tip of the waves. Tourists pouring in the beach. Seagulls flying high..parachute, water speedboat..beach volleyball..sounds coming from everywhere..Goa is a busy place now and Calangute beach is the centre of attraction.

I looked at the old man for the answer..I again asked, ‘Why?’
The old man releasing a swarm of smoke from the pipe said quietly with a smile,

‘Because Liza, can’t speak! She can never give your any answer!’

Maybe before this question I have the ways to come back. But now I have lost the road.

As from this very moment I fell in love with that woman..

Will I get her anyday?
Will she understand me anyday?

All,this questiones are totally irrelevant now..it doesn’t matter to me at all..
I walked on to the beach.

Numerous footprints spotted in the brown sand.
I stepped into the golden sand.
I walked forward.
Then turned back.
My footprints got engraved among the thousands of lost footprints among which one is of her.
I smiled.
I walked on….



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4 comments:

Annie Wicking said...

I hope I can be of some help to you my dear friend.

'I put my eyes in front.'

This line doesn't read right... You could say 'you turned'. I feel you need to read through you work and ask yourself if it makes sense to your reader. Can your reader see the picture you see?
'I put my eyes in front' makes no sense to me.

Best wishes,

Annie

The Thoughtful Philosopher said...

Amazing. You are really good at creating mood and setting....... Lovely

Annie Wicking said...

Hi SUBHADIP, Please could you drop by my blog and pick up you Christmas gift.

Merry Christmas my dear friend and I hope you like it. You wouldn't believe the lengths I went to, to get one for you. I hope you like it.

Best wishes

Dar said...

Your writing does seem like english isn't your first language, but you have painted many beautiful images. You are a romantic, and I can just imagine how well you write in your your own language. I find it very interesting that you slip from prose into poetry with ease, something I don't remember ever seeing before, but it fits very well with your romantic imagery. Thank you for the invitation to read your writing. :)