Enzo's Discovery

Short Story by me:

Enzo’s discovery:

Enzo is walking through the wizardry market of Bolivia. It is a bazaar cum carnival of wizardry, owlery, withes, necromancers, sorcerers, healers, wiccans, crystal tells, face readers and so on. He is walking alone to be charmed at every nook and corner. It seems like a big canopy of wilderness and spellbound. The whole area is embellished beautifully to enchant the visitors. Brown-haired hippie women with shimmering hair accessories begging for face reading, crystal telling, young juggler boy selling masks, rattles, cloak clad old man selling semi-precious stones, black pearls, bone-flutes, claws, feathers, some teen girls whining to buy body piercing jewels and studs and Enzo observes as if there is no tomorrow. Some gypsy herb healers engrossed themselves in flutes and other air instruments to attract people. Even snake charmers and parrot astrologers are here from India to seduce people. All the traders over here, assure you one common thing, supernatural activity of their product, either to keep aloof from spirits or to woo them. He feels his heart beating fast on watching such a tumultuous canvas of life.

Enzo wants to soak himself in this gala mood. He is happy to be alone here. He needs to discover himself through the eyes of this weird marketplace. So, after much ado about nothing he’s made his mind to go inside the tent of a star teller.

“Hey boy, want to check your luck??” a woman in her forties asked him seductively. He looked at her; she’s wearing molten long skirt and a top. Her hair is neatly braided with colorful ribbons, feathers, clips and flowers. She looks sexy by overdone mascara.

Enzo smilingly nodded to her appeal. His keen eyes noticed the other women giving envious looks to this woman. Enzo slowly followed her steps inside the tiny tent.

“Sit here, son,” she chuckled, “From where?”

“Some place of Latin America.” Enzo spat, as he didn’t like the insipid question.

“Wow! You’re quite secretive,” the lady exclaimed.

“Yes, I am. I am Enzo Rodriguez by the way.”

“Wow! Rodriguez family,” saying this, she started to concentrate on the glass pot, kept on the table. Enzo sat peacefully never distracting eyes from the round pot, filled with cold water. ‘So, you’re going to check my life over a pot of water,’ Enzo is amused.

“What is your favorite color?” The lady seemed quite thoughtful.

“Blue, purple and lavender,” Enzo smiled.

“What color you love to wear?”

“Umm… indigo and sky blue.” Enzo replied never removing eyes from her.

“Oh, you are calm and quiet. I think you’re a bit too silent than people of your age.” She looked at the water again, “You tend to be happy in joy and sad in misery. You can’t live with random people. Being secretive, you are an ultimate loner.”

“What if I choose orange now?” Enzo blurted out disliking her color decoding.

She chuckled, etching out some wrinkles on face, “Life is not a dress rehearsal, son.” 

Enzo couldn’t say anything after this. Actually, his mind couldn’t accept himself as ‘ultimate loner.’

“Do you love air? Or water? Which one is better?” The lady asked again.

“Air.”

“Oh...why? Can you explain?”

Enzo feels off guard, “We live inside the sea of air. Water is life but, I won’t die as soon as water is eliminated; but sudden elimination of air means sudden death.”

“Hmm, you’re quite intelligent, boy,” She gave the same chuckle, which shines the tent, “Choose between fire and ice.”

“Fire…but fire and ice can coexist,” Enzo gave a crooked grin.

She smirked at him and Enzo feel tensed; it’s so queer to be charmed by a lady, same age of his mom, he thought.

“You’re self destructive. Even if water and fire coexist, fire and air can never. There is a destroyer inside you,” the lady sighed. Enzo is upset again with her answer.

“If I want to gift you a bead, which one will you choose among lucky amulet, evil eye bead, worry releasing bead, suffering bead for enemy, skull bead to keep away ghosts and smiley beads of happiness?” Asked the lady, fixing eyes on the water bowl.

Now, Enzo is spoiled with options. What should he choose? The lucky amulet or a bead of happiness? Or a tension releasing bead? It is quite tough choice. He will never choose skull bead to avoid ghosts, he loves spirits; he doesn’t need suffering bead to cause suffer to his enemies; no one should suffer. If he’s true from inside, none can curse him, so evil eye protection isn’t needed. He just needs to be happy.

“Bead of happiness,” He looked straight into the eyes of star teller.

She exclaimed in joy, “Good gracias!! You’ve understood the real assignment of life. The purpose of life is being happy and you choose to be happy. You’re the first customer choosing happiness bead.”

Enzo loved it. He already knows the struggles of being happy; at the end of day nothing matters but being happy. Enzo wants to be happy more than anything. Still, he doesn’t want to be a “happy prince.” He has to know the world.

“You are absentminded, boy,” the lady clapped. And absentminded Enzo came back to senses.

“Ohh, did you ask something?”

She cleared her throat, “Do pains sadden you?” she looked at him, “Physical or mental?”

He thought a bit, “Pains sadden everybody.”

“You get sad eyeing pains of other people?”

“Of course, ma’am!” He sighed, “Malicious people sadden me, envious people sadden me…I shed tears on others sorrow.”

“You are a jewel, my son.”

“Don’t flatter me,” Enzo is off guard, “I saw some of my friends taking physical pains willingly to combat mental pains. There is a little difference between love and pain. Pains stir us…”

The lady listened calmly his words; she’s never seen an adolescent, saying word with deep meanings. The boy must have seen a lot. Her heart craved for chatting a bit more, but she has to wear a shell of profession.

“Son, you hide pain behind your eyes; did anyone hurt you in past?”

“This world hurts me every day but I don’t want to say…I want to rediscover myself; that’s why I’m here.” He looked away to hide the forming tear beads. 

Her motherly instinct wanted to pat him like own son, but she can’t. She can’t be a mother. She can’t be weak like this.

“Here is a conclusion,” she sighed, “listen carefully and then cry as much as you wish or whatever.”

Enzo utterly dislike her tone; is she willing to say sadistic story of sarcasm about him? No, it can’t be.

“I’m listening, ma’am.”

The lady carefully watched the water bowl and then checked own nail arts. She looked away for a while to watch the street from the gap of the tent. Then she started, “You’re clairsentient; you want to sense every emotion, that’s quite impossible. A good ghost Tristan is always after you and you’re protected under his supervision…”

He cut her off, “Oh my god! A ghost guide….”

“Yes son. You have a natural tendency to go after paranormal things. I hope this penchant leads you here. One day you may befriend a necromancer,” she sighed, “But your eye color says something different.”

“Different??”

She chuckled musically, “Black eyed people tend to hate spirits while you love it. People with black eyeballs, are quite coward at heart, what you’re not. Black eyeballs watch reality more, superficiality less and you’re quite opposite. You are an oddball; you are summation of many things which don’t belong together…”

Her words seemed to be a pleasant surprise to him; he likes to be different.

“Don’t be so glad; there is one thing common…my black eyed boy!” she caressed her cloth, “Your eyes are dark for lust as always. You will develop sexual fantasies quite often.”

His face got reddened; at the core of heart, he knows she can’t be more correct. Enzo is fascinated with sex; still he didn’t respond to her words.

“Oppss!! Don’t blush like this,” she poked, “You chose blue and purple. So, I can tell more things…You are bisexual. You get attracted to male and female both.”

 Enzo just listened without any reply. On seeing him silent she talked again, “Have you even seen the double moon symbol? Two crescent moons in opposite direction?”

“Is there anything more?” He asked at last.

She nodded positively, “Enzo Rodriguez, you’d love to get hurt.”

“What does that mean?”

She got up from the chair, “Let there be darkness, son. It is a mystery.” The loud noise of laughter filled the room.

Enzo paid the lady and came out of her tent. It is like a life changing experience. He is charmed, enchanted, enthralled and ravished. A mere face reader has told the darkest truths about him. These ladies are extraordinary. It is surreal experience. He started to walk again with a surprising gaze and fulfilled wanderlust. He understood, the greatest discovery is the world is to know own self. Self discovery is something that really matters. 

  

Angel of Sleep

Angel of Sleep:

I am angel of sleep,

I am convoy of peace,

I worship the practice rooted very deep

I cast spells on your eyelids.

I spread magic dusts of solemnity,

I erase the pains of humanity,

I tear up the scrolls of stress

Amid such death race!

I am the permanent strain on work,

I coax you into sleepwalk;

I am an envelope of serenity,

I am an open letter to tyranny.

I bestow you some rest,

I want to keep you ahead.

I won’t let you get lost,

In of life’s merry-go-round.

I am invisible ink on your eyes,

I won’t let your dreams die,

I want you to touch nap’s vibe.

I want you people to shine,

After waking up from lullaby’s chime,

I blot your tears of agony,

I upset the hymns of monotony,

In my world anytime is nap time,

You can traverse the sands of time,

After taking a little nap.     

Loving a Criminal

Loving a criminal:

Everyone calls him a criminal,

They want to arrange his funeral,

Policemen call him, ‘beast of nocturne’

He is my prince charming of diurnal

His love for me is unconditional.

I have seen his bleeding body,

I have erased his sweats,

I have seen his smiling face,

Even in disgrace.

I’ve seen him dealing with bullets,

I’ve fed him water from Brooklet,

I’ve seen him standing still,

On top of mourning hill.

He is the angel of my strive,

He’s drunk the poison of life,

He’s worn the crown of thrones,

He’s tolerated the wounds of guns;

He is wounded with streaks of swords,

He has an identity amid the crowd.

He is tagged as smuggler,

He carries a dagger,

He has made my heart dance,

He is the king of my new dawn!

I’ve seen his passionate eyes,

I’ve seen his face is shaking candlelight,

He got drenched in the rains only to see me,

He got soaked in sweats to save enemies;

He is the deserted soul of society,

He is the maimed song of almighty.

He is tagged as a robber

They've robbed his pleasures,

He is always in danger.

His love rains on me,

He adores my cheeks

He kisses on my eyelids,

He is a boy next door,

When he adores.

People only look at his crimes,

They overlook the agony’s chimes,

Once, they ignored a crying li’l boy,

They were busy, on the way,

They relished on burgers of ‘subway’

They didn’t care to give him food,

He just roamed around the roads.

He has told me his tale,

His mom was a pros,

And his dad was a pirate,

He is the result of peculiar union.

He wants to wear the shirt of a good boy,

He desires to be a sweet lover boy,

He badly wants to remove the stigma,

He wants to be dazzled in new enigma.

Our society is very cruel,

It loves to see him gruel,

It loves to see his dreams shattered.

Till, I want to make him believe on himself,

I hate crimes, not the criminal,

I hate sins, not the sinners,

He is my ultimate lover,

I am always there for him to look after.

Autobiography of a Lollipop

I am an Alpenliebe lollipop. Since my birth I've known myself as a branded lolly who is quite elite in the family of other lollipops. People call me Anti-boring pop and that really makes my day. It is bizarre to compete other chocolates but I am always ready. I can't think myself any less than anything or anyone. If I denounce myself, I won't make myself elite enough in my life. It is my life, I will do anything to make it large.
I know it is very ridiculous to have an aim for me. My life will end as soon as someone will start popping me.
I don't know why lollipops are always associated with children. I know children love to slurp us holding the stick but we're for all...at least I am for all. If elder ones pop candies day and night, if they bite choco balls all day long, they why not lollipops? This notion is changing slowly; some people now dare to slurp lollipops, but they're very less in number. I love to be pampered by elders.
I know I am nothing but a head and a stick tale, but I too have a story to tell. I was born by a branded Italian candy company. I was marketed after two months of my birth. My days on candy shop was so fine and fabulous. I used to live with other candies.
One day, a child bought me. It is more like his mom hose to give him a "me." I saw the child was quite busy to pop and slurp other candies. He didn't even put me on his candy box. I am a lollipop and I need to be needed. By this way, I started to spend my days. All the candies and chocolates were polished off from the box, but none cared to pop me. They thought, I'm too beautiful to be popped. They decided to keep me for ages.
One day, all on a sudden, a teen age girl decided to give me to her teeny weeny boyfriend. I witnesses the bonding made because of me. My cup of joy really overflowed that day. but the boy too, didn't love me enough to eat me. He kept it inside another box. It really made me gloomy and sadder.
Why didn't anyone eat me already? Am I that bad? Or am I too good? I don't know.

Propitiated Poppy (GxGxB)

A Stalker

A stalker

I am stalker at night,

I am smooth talker at daylight,

I am a loner to everybody,

I am not n façade of somebody

I love the talkative salesboy,

I talk to that homeless boy

I console the refugee girls’s baby,

I don’t live in someone else’s body.

I see the drunk man toddling at night,

I see a new boy drinking in moonlight,

I see a deserted person waiting for death,

I can’t see angels coming to save us from hell.

I behold the street prostitutes,

I behold their colorful boots,

I gaze at their beautiful faces,

And I choose to ignore their dresses.

I wink at the adulterous boys,

I hiss at those armorous men,

I love to see the crispy women,

Looking for enjoyment.

I witness the revelries like a worm

I want to string like a moth

I can’t live with such discrimination

The world is scrolling down to destruction.

I befriended the boy who left home,

To deal with parents homophobe;

I want to take him home,

But he believes in his dreamboy, to come.

I watch the sleepy taxi-driver,

They’re road-rovers,

They love to confess their first love,

They’re quite crazy about new love.

I listen to the horns of private cars,

I perceive the humming inside the cars,

I just imagine things happening,

Behind the closed doors.

My eardrums hate the hullabaloo of casinos,

I shut my eyes watching the neons,

I observe children searching leftover food of Domino’s.

I am loner on the streets,

My eyes can’t ignore the things,

I love to do the original sin.

I see the silence of good people,

I hear the shouts of goons,

I wait for the new dawn.

Still it turns out to be an old one;

Old wounds, old folks, old matters,

Every dawn becomes same as earlier,

Still, I live by hope,

Amid the darkness of despire,

Not to lead the world towards destruction!!

A Hike Chat with Lord Krishna

A Hike Conversation with Lord Krishna:

I dozed off all the morning. After having loud Sunday brunch, I opened Hike app on my Smartphone to check messages of my buddies. And suddenly I spotted a message from an unknown number saying “Hello”. I love to chat with complete strangers. So I replied in no time saying “Hi.” The person with a Krishna profile picture answered soon. Here is our conversation.

-Good morning. Have a nice day.

-Do I know you?

-You do. But you can’t recognize me!

-How do I recognize you? You put a Lord Krishna image as your profile picture.

-I am Lord Krishna, no one else.

-Haha, nice joke!!

-I am not joking.

Saying these, he sent me two Krishna stickers. I felt surprised watching the Krishna stickers; as far I know ‘hike’ messenger app doesn’t have such smileys or stickers.

-Oh God! Where did you find them?

-I created ‘em, for you.

-Oh really? Can you give me another prove?

-Of course.

Sending me this message he suddenly turned all his sent messages into Sanskrit. I am struck dumb. What is he doing? Is he real Krishna??

-Oh, now I turn them into English again, I can’t read Sanskrit.

Promptly he turned the words into English and I sighed in relief. Lord Krishna is using ‘Hike.’

-So, why are you on “hike” ? There are more popular apps like Whatsapp, wechat, telegram….

-I didn’t expect you to ask this question. Did you see the color of “hike” ? It’s celestial blue, just like me.

-OMG!! That’s why you’re using “hike.”

-Yeah.

-You prefer blue over other colors?

-I do. Blue means tranquility, eternity, calmness, commitment.

-Wow. You are so confident about this color.

-Look, blue signifies calmness which is very rare today. The world is crazy, people are crazy, boys and girls are freaks.

-Don’t blame our generation; our generation has animated you, made cartoons, animations, graphic novels on you. Our forefathers and foremothers only worshipped you, never tried to make you a cult figure, which everyone can see and understand.

-My appeal is eternal, boy; the forms varied from age to age. Earlier men & women would love to love me or worship me; now you people love to make animations on me…in future people would love to think me a ‘totem’ and research on me. Your generation makes lord Krishna tattoo on body, the next generation would invent Krishna beads and wear me on stylish wristbands.

-Lord Krishna beads?

-Why not? There are smiley beads, hello kitty beads…so there will be Krishna beads too…tiny bead depicted with Balgopal.

-Hmmm, you’re wise, man.

-Hahahaha.

-But you can’t say you don’t love being nurtured or pampered this day.

-Who isn’t tempted to be pampered or loved??

-You too??

-Yes, me too, I am not different.

-Oh, you’re the God of love. What’s your view on today’s love life?

-Love is very flaky, freaky…only none understands that.

-I can’t expect it from you; you’re supposed to say an epic on love. How could you say, Love is very flaky??

-I am saying the truth, son. Love means mansion and slum at the same time, it’s black and white, sick and sane, beauty and ugly, rain and sun altogether. Love loves to make you hurt and it hurts itself too.

-Real love is rare today.

-It always was. Love was, is and always will be a bitch. Every person is a born polygamist, both men and women. It’s very hard for a bird to live on the same nest, on the same tree years after years.

-What are you saying my lord? Are you going to ruin every relationship in this world?

-I don’t ruin relationships, it ruins itself. People are really cowards; they can’t amass courage to go away from the society or properly live inside it, abiding by the rules. They belong to nowhere, really!

-You are a great preserver. Why can’t you fix the broken trusts, relationships or broken minds?

-Who am I to do these, boy? Things fix themselves, they get healed, they don’t really need anyone to cure or fix…

-Then why do we worship you?

-To pamper me.

-Now, you are being flaky, like us.

-Hahahaha.

-Don’t laugh. What’s your view on LGBT community? You accept homosexuality or reject it?

-I am bound to accept the nature. It’s very natural. Boys can hold hands, girls can kiss each other. Once Shiva mingled himself with Agnidev. Shiva and Parvati are always unified. Not only homosexuals, I accept every form of love and sex, as long as it is not forced.

-Your words would make people mad.

-I don’t care. You have to accept the reality. You don’t have to be a saint nor a sinner.

-Isn’t it an easy road? If we all keep calm, be normal as possible, it will be easy for you to be a perfect preserver.

-Exactly the opposite.

-How?

-I don’t want to set the world in war; I don’t want people to be warriors.

-I can’t understand.

-I am already late, bye now.

He went offline quickly. I sat on my couch like a wooden doll. What just happened to me? Did I wake up from sleep now?

 War has stolen my children,

War snatched my sweetest things, god’s given;

War robbed my children from being ‘hidden’

War demolished my tiniest hope,

War has made me a body without soul.

I’ve seen bullets killing my children,

I’ve heard babies cry,

It maims my soul the way babies die;

I have nowhere to fly.

War didn’t spare a single child,

Bombs fell on smiling babies,

Weapons snatched our babies from cradle,

Ignominious war sent them to grave.

I’ve seen atrocious appearance of war,

To raise my voice I dare,

I am solo face on crowd

You can’t kill us blasting bombs loud,

I will finally hold revenge’s sword,

I want to listen my baby’s shout.

Where are my bubbly chirpy children?

When shall this war end?

When will the toys get back their owner?

When shall they again play with dolls?

War has taken over one million children,

War has made moms bed-ridden,

War has turned off the way of life,

War owed everything to malice.

Why did war kill Zelena’s new born?

Why did it take away 5 yrs old Adnaan?

Regina’s little head struck by splinter

My heart is dead like cold winter.

I play with soft toys of my children,

I weep over their lost childhood

I kiss their tiny fur shoes,

I wash their colorful clothes

To lessen my woes!!

I shake Sana’s round rattle,

I count days of battle

My lips get chapped,

My tears get dried,

But I never stop waiting,

For my little children to return,

War can’t rob our children,

It just robs the future citizens!!