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Mukta Singh-zocchi

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    A host of tutelary deities must be waiting upon her on all sides, for her performance displayed perfection. Her appearance had thrown magic upon us. Her dance held us all in thrall.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Ah … woman! Always the same story. Why is it that your eyes are open, yet you see nothing?

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    A life of madness I have been living for fifteen years. I have thrown away everything I had, my devoted wife, two lovely children, my family, my wealth on a hopeless passion. My love that once glowed like a warm flame is gone. A fire burns inside me now. My love, instead of being upheld has been cast aside like dirt. I can weep all I want out of rage and self-loathing but the world will only laugh at the sight of me.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Bhima’s knees were knocking. He brought them under his blanket. Now his shoulders moved like trembling mountains.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Despair is a bad thing, friend. The world moves on through hope. We will be home soon. You will feel better then.” But the darkness around him embraced him like stormy waves do a drowning man. He felt he was sinking in the sea of hopelessness.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Do you know I have lost my heart to you?” His voice rustled like starched silk when trampled upon. “I am losing my sleep as well. And when sleep does come, I dream only of you.” He murmured.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Everything in real life leaves room for betrayal. Why shouldn’t love betray too?

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Everywhere he went, he met people belittling him, maligning his knowledge, each imitating the behavior of the other in the manner of ants, till he felt a tide building up around him, threatening to tear him down. They doubted his learning, many of them not even qualified to make any form of judgment on his work, or without having examined the charges they were throwing at him, all hankering after a notion floated around by Malavika’s father himself, that his son-in-law was a fraud.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Flowers – so beautiful – they seemed like they were smiling.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    For the first time then I recognized that supremacy in our society came from one’s proximity to gold, not from mere excellence - 'If you come with me, what do you bring? If I come to you, what can you give me?

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Fortune is imagination’s whim, still must be pursued if one is to live his life’s worth.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Gods must have had their reasons when they unleashed locusts on this earth; locusts, that in their happy numbers, infest a place and leave behind a trail of death and misery.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Gopal here tells me of your plans to go abroad. This wanderlust in the bright young men of our land is a curse for the rest of us.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He felt no shame in their love. It was great, honest and high. He had never in his life seen a woman like her. He admired her like he had no one before. If she were to go away, he would abandon everyone and everything that he ever cared for and follow her like a dog. He would lose his mind otherwise.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He felt the terrible loneliness he normally felt only in dreams.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He had often wondered if the sea that incessantly broke its many heads against the boulders without doing them any injury was in effect trying to convey something to man. Why it was an insinuation of the same charge – the message that the succession of sunshine and shade of the jungle carried and in a matter of a few moments it had become all too clear to him: Truth, deceit! Truth, deceit! the chant to which this world of ours whirls.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He had thought enough during the day. The time for thinking was now over. Thoughts tortured and in paradise one sought only pleasure.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He had wanted to be a soldier and was well suited to be one. But a soldier is a pawn in the hands of the ruler and the rulers of his land were idle and self-serving persons, he had started to convince himself now

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He saw a woman, her face awash with misery, standing in front of him. She was holding a child in her arms and as soon as he looked up at her, she placed the child on his lap. Grief must have withheld her speech. Without saying a word she spread an open palm in front of him.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He tried to imagine a face, damned the veils that made it hard to do so. He thought of the enigmatic smile hidden behind them. He smiled and savored for a while the harmonious scene of the palanquin vanishing in the dust. Such visions that do not remain and fly away in a haze were the most delightful, for they were harmless to his married state. He wished to remain faithful to his wife who waited back at home.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He turned his thoughts instead to his wife. He imagined how upon his return he would pull her into the bed and make love to her, the gem-encrusted, meena-painted necklace adorning her bared bosom, strands of her long silky hair flowing all around his head like streaming waterfall, eyes half-shut in ecstasy.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He was led by the girl to a courtyard that gave off a lavish look. Such was the grace of the place that it would have been demeaned if a common traveler were to find shelter here.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    He wrote about the five nobles who had returned to fight a thousand enemy soldiers. He, himself, had cut down one of them, “a young prince, even on the battlefield, his face showed the first blush of love … But there is no room for the lament. This is a warring land - the entire country, forever at war, its wealth strewn around for whoever is strong enough to grab it. Isn’t that why I too am here?

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    His head was bent on one side and he seemed lost in an opium dream, looking lovingly upon the world – men, animals, the carts, carriages, palanquins, all - as they passed by. Or perhaps he was looking upon nothing, for his gaze did not so much as flicker when Firangia came to a stop and greeted him.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    How beautiful it is to swim in the tank!” He said after a while. “The water is so serene. And yet, when one thinks of it, the sea is no less impressive, when a thousand billows beat against the earth and still do it no injury.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    How can the hand of man do away with the works of God? Man is impotent in all his actions when it is the will of God that he confronts. We only do what we are told to do.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    How often he had felt that living life is nothing more than writing on the surface of the lake! So fleeting! Ephemeral! Although each day when it arrives seems like the day that has just passed, it does hold well the power to bring something new or to take away someone dear.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I am a story-teller, even a story-teller of renown. May I add now that I am not much to look at? No, I am serious. My face is hideous. A look at me reminds one of a little finger – brown - enlarged to the proportions of a human body, wrapped two thirds down with a cloth about the loins, the entire frame resting on two wobbly knees. I was born bald and not a single strand of hair has ever sprouted on this miserable head. Think of me as a faceless man; in fact, I would rather you think of me as just a voice.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I am famous now,’ she brags to me. She storms back into her house when I say nothing in return. I don’t know what to say to her. Only men can be famous. Look at Baba-jan! He is famous and my good mother can only be good, never famous.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I am not a fool. I have just loved with an honest heart. Ask the moon and the night sky and these jungles, they will bear the testimony. But the world – that is a different matter.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I cannot explain how it all happened, Father. I know only that now I want to be with her.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    If, then, I had a pen at hand, I could capture that moment in two lines in the Vasantatilaka meter – my meter of preference. But scenes such as these have an ephemeral quality. You capture them as you experience them after which they are gone.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I had known always that he was in love with her. Why did he just not say he loved her? He could have; to me. Was I not his best friend? Perhaps he knew that he was not worthy of her.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I have been thrown in this dark room. Shall I blame unruly fate or the haughtiness of the rich for plucking me from my place in the summit to be left to wither for the remaining days of my curtailed life?

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I have squandered in one unintended jerk the string of pearls that was handed to me. And each pearl is lost in a dark corner that I knew not existed.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I have undertaken something very big. I have dared to dream. And act. Sometimes I am not sure.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I may appear despicable and a little withered, yet by reason of my knowledge and wisdom I outsoar most men who dot this world. Emperors and kings are astonished at my pleasing discourse and sweetness of the tongue.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I mean no disrespect, but you are offering me things I have not even asked for.” “I am offering you things that will bring contentment in your life.” “I was born content.” He was up on his feet, smile on his lips, his gaze drinking her lovely looks by the eyefuls. “And now,” he added with a bigger smile, “having met you, madam, I can boast to my friends that I am the most favored man of my race.” He brought his palms together. “I must leave now.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    In the paved path of friendship that Gopal and I had walked together for so long, we were led astray from each other when finally Yamini made her shining appearance. But I feel no regret at my loss - no. My gains were much loftier.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    In the sky splashes of clouds obscured the moon in such a way that only a white wedge of light was visible – as if placing her hands upon her face, a lady in the sky was watching a dreaded scene.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    I sent word to my love-crazed brother, informing him of the news of the wedding of his beloved and reminding him that this love is a hollow emotion – is gilt, not gold - and the so-called beloveds, faithless people, and that his efforts must henceforth be directed towards worthier objects. But there is an inborn antagonism between love and reason, Sirs?

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    It all happened when he saw that rich man’s daughter - his senses forsook him - and to impress the father he set out for foreign lands to become rich himself. Of course in the meantime the girl was engaged to be married to another man. Why must tales of love be sweet for folks like us?

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    It is said that haughtiness in either the poor or the unlearned is a wasted quality. On the other hand, this vice is becoming in the rich and the men of power.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Many old men from the nearby circles were rising with their quilts to retire in their tents. Sleep was the final cure for most problems.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Mehak, I know of a place where the king is great and in his reign the peasant is happy, the treasury full, the army satisfied and the poor content. There is such peace and plenty in that place, when you visit the people in their homes, the decorated doorways arch around you like a beautiful embrace. There are no doors at the entrances of the homes of these welcoming people, Mehak, my dearest! Every day there feels like a day of festival. And, day or night, wayfarers clink their gold playfully in their hands as they walk, be it over the plains or through woods. We can rule that kingdom, if you come with me. The only thing that is different there is the currency of the land. It is not gold. It is flowers.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    My friend, meaning to respond to her questions, I raved some words at someone and gaped at another and all the while the lady stood elsewhere. This morning, in reality your friend stood there overcome with silliness. So I told myself, “It’s time you take your leave, My Dear!” And when I turned around and tottered my way outwards, at her door, I fell down like a crumbling wall.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Not a single way around this town is without thugs. Rakes, crooks, slants, dandies, ‘piquants’, swindlers: who does not line our roads? Each one has his eyes fixed on your purse. It is hard to miss them.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Only now he was on his way to finally meet her and this time to remain with her till death tore them apart. Firangia’s feet were unmoored from the land, he walked in the air and flew towards the moon. A lady roamed there and with open arms waited to welcome him.

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    Our days will pass in singing songs. We will roam the jungles and I will teach you the language of all animals. You will fear them no more and will pick flowers instead after you have tired of gazing at the beauty that would surround us. During the day I will turn the wheel and make pots and you will string flowers together and make garlands for gods and men. We will sell them at the temple in the evening and by nights you will cradle in my arms and listen to a new story every night before shutting your eyes to the long beautiful day. And when all my stories are exhausted we will together make new ones. This is the way queens must live

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    Mukta Singh-zocchi

    People die when the gods choose their final hour.