This is the story I wrote almost two years back, out of anxiety . The story is about a mans romantic and erotic fantasy and journey towards the Black Whole..I happen to write it by recollecting my fancies when a purplish MP3 Player of mine was half-trampled  by the tire of a micro-bus( But it functioned anyway).I have shown this story to few of my friends, my close readerships, thats all, and this is not some big affair, not some big emotion, just some emotions and anxieties in fragments. And Hey , I must mention that ,I wrote it after reading Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri .Back then, a strong passion for short stories had surged up irresistibly, fanatically .Thanks to a friend of mine who encouraged me to post it in this blog.I will post this story in 3 parts , turn by turn, because I want to have some curiosity raised. And Thanks for everyone, who would read it .

My pace was never swift like this. Direction was never decisive like this. Dream was never close like this. Air was never evoking like this. Every step I moved was taking me a mile ahead. This my journey was towards the final settlement. This my journey was towards the black hole. This my journey was towards the Bermuda Triangle. This my journey was towards the quicksand. This my journey was towards the Far farther farthest..Deep deeper deepest towards somewhere I belong.towards somebody I truly belong.

I reached at the rear of the bridge at 2.27 where she would come at 4. I leaned against the railing of the bridge, lit a cigarette, puffing the eddies of smoke, I watched them spiraling above my head, sketching a perfect shape of a beautiful broad face. This broad face belonged to her, for whom I was waiting more than just anxiously. She would come to absorb me forever deeper inside her self, I would weld myself into her so uncannily that there would be no trace of two separate existences, that I would be her and she would be me and me and she would be WE.  WE would be my new Avatar.

I was a man of 26 and had seen women in and out, top and down, right and left. I had witnessed all the hardware and software inside/outside them, had operated them, had repudiated them. But this time around she had become simply irresistible. Women are bubbles, I always thought this, they dazzle for a while transiently then either dried or crushed and men are  to seek for another bubble. One bubble is not enough to quench the perpetual thirst. But this one bubble was a Pacific ocean. She would drown me deeper down the Mariana Trench … that I would play inside her like the Whale, never wanting to come back to the land of perpetual thirst, I would rather die yaar ! how can a fish live without water?

The world is chained by a series of wonderful coincidence.  I had never met her physical being, hadnt seen her even in photograph, and hadnt heard her but still had fallen into her. I dont think it was love, it was more than that. It was more than just a chain of fish and water.

As a matter of fact, the evening I found her was incredibly auspicious. It was a December evening, the temperature in Kathmandu was 2 degree Celsius and it was drizzling. I had just bidden farewell to a lady whom I was seeing for nearly 410 days, she was very homily and calm. That was a day for the final settlement too. She wanted to get settled, but I was running out of passion for her, she would no longer interest me and I was immensely bored. Of course I hurt her more than anything, but it was for her own good, the filmy bubbles should not crave to settle down with the leaf that was adventuresome, boisterous  and mad, so much so that always easily got swayed by the wind stroke.

She hailed a cab, and hustled inside, covering her pretty little mouth, with her fingers like of a chicken. I still remember her muttering You will remember me when somebody will reject you after seeing you for hundreds of days . Unmoved,  I went to the dark and dank parking lot. I fished for a cigarette into my pocket, as I kindled the lighter,  at a flip of the little fire , I saw something purplish tucked down the wall, it was covered by earth and it was palpable that it had been abandoned or dropped out there since at least a week. I took it in my palm, dusted the soil, it was a little rectangular MP3 player, and apparently the hue was purple.  I turned around ,no one was visible, I put it inside the pocket of my downy Jacket, put on my gloves, muffled my muffler around the neck carefully, fixed the woolen winter cap, and drove my Hero Honda Passion homewards with cigarette in a hand.

That night I slept with my jacket, Jeans and shoes on. I slept like a log for more than 13 hours.  Sleep was never sound like this, was it because a great source of boredom was cleared away of my path or because of the good omen that purple little thing brought into my life ?

To Be Continued…

Indeed what might be the reason of that relief? It is almost mystical , Please have a patience what this young mans romantic life has in store. Please have a look after a couple of days.