(Roamer - The Tale of a casanova) The Relapse

Prabhanjan seeks redemption from the safe haven. Within, he is just as broke as for the first time when he chose to kill. His past crept close and fetched his conscience once again, blinding him for the next 24 hours of his quest. He used his skills to trim down to locate his wife who he thought was dead long ago was now haunting him in reality grounds more than he could stand. His fears and guilt took over him as an interesting blend of adrenalin rush.

After he escaped from the hospital campus, he took the drive straight to the dinge low life colonies of Grant Road. His passive mind was recollecting all the moments he had with her and the not so good fights they had along. His guilt also made him contemplate all the sneak outs with Rushi. He knew his heart never forgave him for his sins but his desires for woman like Rushi couldn't over throw his love for his wife for she knew him and supported him against all the flaws.

He strides through the calls and lures of the women in business through the wriggling, rusty spiral staircase of the building. He climbed to the first floor and makes his way to the last room of the first exit on the right.

"Bangs the door open!"

An old man in his late 90's with an oxygen mask over his face was lying lifeless in front of him. His face wore countless wrinkles and pale with the erosion of time.

This old man is none but his long lost father, "Come, Sit here!"
He calls out to his son!

This man is brought him to life and before he could knew took away the same from him for the need of an heir, for he knew that the best a man can get in his struggles and those be tempted in kiln of revenge and thirst of blood makes the best soldier of the dark. Prabhanjan is supposed to heir the legacy of his dark underworld kingdom. Prabhanjan knew that even if he is frailing, he has still the greatest network and receives alerts from every corner in this town and others. He is whole and sole creator, the master mind of this 70 years old empire.

Prabhanjan: Is it true father? Did I kill my wife that night?
Old Man: *sigh puts off his oxygen mask* Why do you ask? It has been ages she died. You cremated her.
Prabhanjan: I saw her father. She is still alive.
Old man: Is she?

* Door opens silently*
Prabhanjan's face goes pale with the look of the person standing by the door as dementor sucks life out of him.

Dissolving The Past!

Prabhanjan went deep under the thickets of his childhood memories. For most of us it is the school, birthdays, family outings, adoration by parents but for his past life was more of an ever haunting nightmare. He could trade his life with the lords of the dark caves, these lords were worshipped by the loathe of the innocence and greed and devilry of their novices. The quest of Miraz was to become one of those dark lords who can then put an end to the misery of the poor. His aims were high and noble but the path was nefarious and dangerous.

He had nothing but the skill to walk over a kill without a grin or remorse. As if he was born to kill, slit throats and spill guts out of human. He was looked upon by many demons with a sense of pride. "A legend is born" they said, "there will be none to stand against his tide," they said.
Lesser known to the outworld are the secret and conveniently fictious world of demons who are always under leash to let loose and when they do create havoc and bone shaking acts of terror is presented for the out world.

(Roamer-The tale of a Casanova) The Dawn

He couldn't make it till dawn. Tired and burning with high fever whole night, he could just have enough strength in his body to let him have his mouth chant the name of Shazia. He asked his God to let him be with her so bad that it seems this universe finally conspired him to be with her by taking his life away. He was losing life bit by bit and all that was left of him then. He blacked out and finally waking up in a hospital.

He must have dreamt it bad. But this was no dream, he was brought here single-handedly by a woman who carried her through. He inquired about her whereabouts from the nurses attending him but she was already gone. Of the description they mouthed of her beauty stung him through his heart, this was not the first time neither one of his obsessed paranoia dreams. He finally started believing. He knew there was some truth behind what he couldn't see yet.
He, who knew no fear, was back in blood and soul. His passion for his beloved took a qualm over him and made his clenched fists more strong. He was ready with the positive inspiration that she is alive and he would do anything just to get her back.
From what we know of Prabhanjan, he is not one of the kill bill rodeo. He is a ghost, he storms into his scene and the his dexterous stealth of executing his jobs leave no traces behind.
He pulls off the IV's and grabs his suit from the wardrobe. Decently gathers himself and walks out of the room.
Queered eyes rolls over the place one last time to get the hint of her if she stayed back to have a look at him. Even though his intellect gathered him enough that he knew she was trained too well to lose her stealth which she maintained over six years, so easily because of her meek woman love.




He hired a cab just as he got out of the hospital and nobody knew about it until he was far out of reach. His only aim was to get to her. Little did he know, this would do him no good. He was getting himself into a situation that was not going to be easy for him. It was because of Prabhanjan that she had to lose her life, well that is what he thought lately. Now that she is alive, the dilemma is back again. Whether she should be or shouldn't be alive this long. What kept her from reaching him? Did she know that it was he who sacrificed his love over the mission of his lifetime- Quest of His Father!

(Roamer- The tale of casanova) The Tryst

Sobbing in the darkest corner of his sea view room in the hours of dusk, Prabhanjan, when there was nothing around him but his soltitude.

He was miserable than ever, with his dark secrets being revealed layer after layer in a way he could not understand. His worst nightmare would be if his wife had tears in her eyes and he was the reason behind it. He cannot let his wife, the love of his life being at the slightest of trauma ever. He was very protective of her ever since he met her. He called her the warrior who saved his soul from getting corrupted. She was the driving force of his then stagnant life and she picked him up well, boosted him like a friend and kept him going to become the man who he is now. His fame, stardom is all a gift from her. He, who thought would be the keeper of this God gifted woman, was now guilty as charged by his own traits and infidelity running in his veins.
He somehow manages to crawl and get up back on his feet. He stumbles, gets hit by the desk, door frame on his way to his wife's room. Flashes of her laughter could be heard echoing in that room. The way she whispered, "I Love You." Everything got him carried away from the moment to the edge when he reached the doorstep. He hadn't entered this room for years. Tear filled eyes, with immense pain dropping through his eyes, breaks down emotionally to all tears as he touches the door knob. Falls near the door and cuddles himself near the door slightly ajar. He looks vaguely inside with tear filled eyes, gets up again and pushes the door open. His gaze locked on the last picture he had for his wife before she passed away six years ago.

Prabhanjan- "Why? (*Crying relentlessly, hurting his heart inside chest to the extremity) Why?? Why did you have to go baby?"
"It's terrible to live without you alone," it's an unceasing pain of loss and the grief of this love-pain stricken heart can only be quenched by satan himself. all that he wants now to get her back from the dead and fill her
into his empty world.

He is on knees infront of her picture stalled panting, sobbing crying at the top his lungs to reach her in heaven. But there he was, a mortal human stature with his fist clenched and cursing his fate for having left him alive without the courage to move on.

It has been a long time that Prabhanjan had some peace in his heart after his mother was killed and the whole world came shutting on him. That incident was a turning point in his life when he chose the dark streets and emerged out to be a filthy cold blooded infamous hitman of his times. He was faceless but was rewarded well after each job well done. He made it a point then, not to take up assignments from the same man twice..
He must have killed over a 100 lives in cold. And didn't grin at all. It was not until he met Shazia in the Italian downtown during his operation that seemed to be the last failed operation. But for him he found what he wanted, he could feel his heart beating again. He felt the warmth of the setting sun falling on his face when he was suppose to be aiming the cross hair on the vanity merchant. But he simply kept tracing Shazia while she was contemplating sitting on the first tables near sea.

He picked up the sniper rifle and folded with the swift of his meticulous hands trained and tarned to be the ruthless killer. He puts his hand in the pocket inside the suit he was wearing and brings out a beautiful old ring. This belonged to his mother, he picked it from the crime scene, the thief must have slipped it out and left it behind. He kept this with him, in her memory. A teardrop rolls out when flashes of her dead face comes in front of his eyes. His eyes grew red and he picks the rifle again. Aims within a few seconds and hits the target, clean shot through the temple. It caused a chaos and people started running and panicked themselves out.

In the midst of that chaos, he lost the sight of Shazia. He dissembled the rifle and packs away to Milan in his muscle car.. 

(Roamer- The Tale of a Casanova) My Chalice of Love- Spilled all over

I claimed to love her, more than one can ever love something or someone.
But now when the time has changed. I, who never was a man who would go all wrong to get a taste of sublime attention underlying my carcass, have now started admitting to the worldly affairs of adultery and cynicism. Thinking of a past life full of laughter and glee didn't hinder me from turning my back on it for a life where there is endless quest for love and hope.

Rocking on an arm chair sipping on a bottle of brewed malt, my gaze fixed upon my reflection on half closed glass door of the cupboard. Lost in that finitely distant gaze my vision was focussed infinity. The picture in that frame behind the section of glass posing my reflection brought back possibility of a million random memories that we could've had if she would stay back. My eyes started to burn my desperation of having an invincible gaze didn't allow me to close my eyes.

Smeared orange dawn light filtered through the window glass and my sight shifted towards the Bougainville creeped out over the window pane. Oblivious of what I felt a moment ago, I got up and started walking towards the window. Opening one, I leaned over the butterfly flying over it. Beautiful! I exclaimed a liitle aloud just so that I can hear it. For a life that seemed to be surrounded by gloom so much that a word of positive appreciation was like a boon drop of rain over famine soil.

I turned around to go back to my seat of ease just when the earth under me shook away. I was looking at my motionless, lifeless body with my eyes wide open and my hand held a the picture of the two us.

I could feel the goosebumps that even with my last breath, I didn't betray my words, I died loving you..

(Romaer- The tale of a Casanova) Caught in the Act!

The dawn grows in, a beginning of yet another day in his controversial secret life. Prabhanjan took the liberty of slipping into the shoes of his father and his soul getting corrupt of the secondary companionship he never sought he would love so much. Gets up of from his side of the bed, slips his foot into the pair of flip-flops resting on the matte wooden floor, straight onto his feet walks drowsily picking his night robe lying on the backrest of his rocking chair and heads the bathroom. She rolls over her side, intoxicated by the moments she had last night, puts her arm over her sleeping lover only to find he has gone. She smiles seductively at herself and smells his pillow. Had she known this man would be so easy to get she wouldn’t have missed all the opportunities back in the days being the mistress of the city Mayor.

The door opens up and Prabhanjan, the handsome with his sleek yet muscular physique stands infront of her with handle of silk blood red robe untied. She bites off her lips as if it developed a despicable layer of ecstasy over her. He slowly walked forward and she crawled up like the lioness on the prowl. She grabs unto him kisses him madly and checks on the right shoulder sore of a scratch from last night, bites it. He grabs her lock and brings her face back looking upwards. He bends over kisses her lusciously red and softer than melt lips, sucks them and suckles her breasts from over her pink see through night robe. She takes a leap on his arms and grabs him with her legs around his waist with the most intimate touches. He takes her over the table by the bed side and rubs it over her clitoris with his man-shaft and a scent of heat and lust takes over in the room. The morning light covers half naked Prabhanjan and Rushie, caught in a live act of selfless and purest of bond. They connect, they thrive and she takes the charge. Humping him from the front, riding his love-tool with her arms over his shoulder and legs wrapped around him.
 She reaches her first orgasm from the morning. She lost track as how many times they may have made love and how many times she must have reached climax. Yet, she couldn’t stop and had the hunger in her vagina. He tosses her on the bed, grows on her, kissing her love-hole and her sweet as honey skin dew. He suckles her breasts passionately grabbing and squeezing them with his firm hands and biting on and off on them. His hands slides down her hips and grabs one of her cheeks rubs her with his love-tool on her melting love-hole just to enter in her. The aroma, the aura of the entire room was hot by that time. If there is anything they could see beyond their gaze off each other was red dungeon, their love nest when all of a sudden they startled. They must have continued their love scene further but a ringer on the phone came as a disappointment.

Little did he know who was to be the voice on the other end, he picked it up said, “Hello!”

Unknown Voice : “Caught in the act, bastard!” (Phone disconnects and beep sounds)

Prabhanjan, perspiring with sweat from this unknown threat, picks up his robe and ties the handle in the front and rushes in the bathroom to get bathed and ready.

---To be Continued

Not Today, but One day, You'll be mine!

Since the good old days it has been said and heard, companionship of a lifelong term is made in heaven. I guess today it is being searched almost at a tender age in a most impulsive way. The companionship that one must seek doesn't come to people who search but to those wait. There are one in a million possible choices but Destiny always had one chance for the situation to be randomly chosen over the rest and play out its role. One may find it interesting as how the partners for life, chosen and living with, don't stay forever. Is that how our destiny wants it to be like. The answer is pretty convincing to you reader, No!

Destiny always had plans for you in a best way, all it asks you to do is be patient and wait for your cards to play out.
Most often people consider cupid as the God of Love. A messenger of peace, an angel who marks the heart of those two whose bond is written in heaven by our Holy Father and like any Father , even He couldn't see His children in demise.
I remember a story I told to a cute little girl when we spoke for the first time. It's that a cupid is not what we think it is. A Cupid, in old roman times, an anti-christ soldier who was assigned the task to prevent any eloping couple in the Kingdom to make love. It would poison its arrows with the most venomous thing known at that time and shoot the love birds right in their breasts piercing through their heart. It was done to put a strict repression on the men and women who didn't elope under the consent of their King. Because The King then, name that I don't know, like to have a record of all the married couples who wished to start a family and had to put a notice on their front door, "Forcination Under The Consent Of King." Yes, you are right, FUCK.

But this is not the subject of my blog. This blog deals with those beautiful moments, dreams knitted in silk with a determination of living our lives together as destiny chose us. I remember how I use to make stories out of thin air and weave them in a rhythm just to tell her how special she is for me. At times, even I got surprised how well mannered and well equipped I became when she would be around. My dreams took another leap and had that benefit of doubt that our being alike would come to our advantage. That kept me addicted to her for most of my time I've spent hand in hand with her.

She was forever mine, she was supposed to be mine and that she confessed it to me herself. That couldn't be a bad dream, or fake. I thought there must be something I can do to save 'us.'

But it was all for nothing, she played out her role in my life giving an endless hope that if Fate really brought us this close, we might get another chance to be together at some point in our life. But for that we had to wait. Destiny never likes greed. He will play his cards out soon. But for now, I am sitting on my front porch watching the Sun dive over the horizon, thinking how each day He comes over meet her, cheers her up but they get their moment of togetherness and how always had to be that distant from each other. I was wondering how it would have been if they both met and never had to leave each other.
Then I realized even that is destined but for now they too had to wait

And so I'll wait. Wait till the cards play out and there'd be the time when getting together would be the best thing we could've ever imagined.