STORY ::: THE JOURNEY

The Journey

David was a rich Indo-Australian adventurer .

He had engineered a very famous and dare-devil jailbreak in the Indian subcontinent and then left the country fooling the government and its security system .

This man had a myth behind his personality . David arrived in Bolzano , a northern Italian town , in the Alps, accompanied by his accomplice , a priest by the name of Balboa . They put up at what appears to be the only inn in town, The Stag .

A bedraggled and slightly bewildered David installing himself at the inn. But his reputation had always preceded him .

The inn was shrouded in darkness ---- Moonlight briefly puncturing the black and illuminating the detailed sketches that line the inside walls. Rain was tapping persistently on the door, at the same time entering quietly through a hole in the window, forming a sprawling puddle on the chipped linoleum floor. A slice of light squeezed under a closed door in the back of the room ,the whir of a needle pierceing the air.

The whole town was agog with excitement.

Especially the women .

On his arrival , a gaggle of them assembled in front of David's door, ostensibly to catch a glimpse of the famous libertine half-amused, but also half-terrified of discovering the man behind the myth . They see, through the keyhole, a man . There were no attempt to demystify .

Indeed, The mystery of David's personality can be shown only through the eyes of the females assembled in front of his room, as some kind of a languid and caged beast . His presence filled the room and every movement, every gesture seemed to be an awe-inspiring reflection of his myth . And yet there is an aura of ordinariness about the man . As being David were the most natural thing in the world.

One of the women's whispered words mingled with the shades, and, to the small town belle's drowsy mind, they seemed to be generated by the darkness in which they floated .

"Mr. David Geldoff ---- he that is learning, and that plays the harp ---- never says much to us . He is a parson's son, is too much taken up with his own thoughts to notice girls . She continued,Yes, he is quite the gentleman ' born . His father was the reverend Mr. Geldoff at Wessex, his native.

"Oh ' I've heard of him, said her companion, now awake .

"Yes ' that he was ' the earnestness man in all Wessex, they say ' the last of the old Low Church sort, people say ---- for all about here be what call High . "

David Geldoff did rise out of the past not altogether as a distinct figure , but as an appreciated voice, a long regard of fixed a mobility of mouth somewhat too small and delicately lined for a man's , though with an unexpectedly firm close of the lower lip now and then; enough to do away with any inference of indecision.

Nevertheless, something nebulous, preoccupied, vague, in his bearing and regard, marked him as one who probably had no very definite aim or concern about his material future . Yet as a person people said of him that he was one might do anything if he tried .

But the sight of women peeking at his door on the first day itself was not missed by David's sharp eyes . He delivered a harangue to them on the proprieties of eavesdropping and voyeurism .

The priest Balboa used to preach to the common men and women : "See, this is the arm that has squeezed many a woman's waist, these are the hands you have longed to see ! Are you not frightened of them ?... They can twirl sword and flick through a pack of cards, but they are capable of caressing too ! "

Devoid of tumescence now, the skies opened doors to him . From some poured tumultuous rain, in sheets, thunder and lightning chasing the downpour faster out of the exits . Into other doors, flew many coloured birds, small and large, all silent, but for the flapping and rustling of their feathers . He thought they were pieces of his mind being
carried away into space unknown, to be discovered later, many aeons away, by pioneering humans, perhaps other sentient beings .

He roamed the countries of Europe in search of women to seduce.

One night on returning home¦¦¦¦¦..,
In the back room, David lied face down on a sterile table, while Balboa was leaning over him shading a freshly designed area on his back , leaving behind steamy smudges on the metallic surface. Blood mixed with ink to form murky pools on the skin's surface, which he was blotting with a gauze cloth . David discussed with his accomplice, , Balboa about his victories in life so far .

"I think I need a couple hours tomorrow. I don't know if I can finish everything tonight.

David whipped his head around to face him.

"No! It has to be completed tonight. 

"I've been doing this every night for three weeks. 

"Jesus Christ, They're covering your whole body.

"Are you going to finish or not?

Balboa studied David's face. His skin was young, but his expression was worn and battered. Dark circles were haunting his vacant eyes.

"Fine. I'll finish.

A clock on the wall was ticking off minutes, then hours. Balboa put down the needle, rolled his stool across the floor .

"You don't have time for a break.

Balboa gruntled . "I took this job but, but nobody owns me, especially not a freak like you.

He took a long drag, then slowly rolls back to the table. He reached out and pointed to a long, fleshy scar on David's shoulder.

"Man, that's the ugliest scar I've ever seen. How'd you get that thing?

"I got it in that jail in India .

"Doing what?

"Some prisoners there wanted to know if a faggot bleeds the same as a real man, so they held me down, kicked me on and twisted a buck knife into me.

Balboa looked at the scar, unfazed.

Another hour passed. David winced while Balboa was detailing an area on the inside of his wrist.

"I need a minute.

Balboa was mimicking David sarcastically.

"I thought we were in a hurry. No time for breaks.

"It hurts. Just give me a minute.

Balboa shaked his head . David retrieved a large book out and was flipping through it. The man caught sight of the book cover.

"Look into this book, it's not for you, my master, said the priest . "What do you know about it?

"I'm interested in it .

"What for?

"To read.

"How can you think of reading it ?

"How can I ? why ------ it is a system of philosophy . There is no more moral, or even religious, work published . "

"Yes ------- moral enough; I don't deny that . But religious ! --- and for you, who intend to be a minister of the Gospel ! "

"Since you've alluded to the matter, Balboa, said David, with anxious thought upon his face, I should like to say, once for all, that I should prefer not to take Orders . I fear I could not conscientiously do so. I love the Church as one loves a parent . There is no institution for whose history I have a deeper admiration; but I cannot honestly be ordained, while you refuse to liberate your mind from an untenable redemptive theology . "

It had never occurred to the straightforward and simple-minded Vicar that his master could come to this ! He was stultified, shocked, paralyzed . That was the reason David never went to the University in life . the University as a step to anything but ordination seemed , to this man of fixed ideas, a preface without a volume . He was a man not merely religious, but devout ; a firm believer ------ not as the phrase is now elusively construed by theological thimble-riggers in the Church and out of it .

David shut the book .

Time was flying . Outside, the sun was peeling away the layers of darkness. Balboa leant back from the table, puts down his instrument and shook out his hands.

"Okay, you're done.

David got up from the table and stood in front of a full-length mirror. A satisfied look painted itself across his face. He dressed quickly .

"You do nice work.

David scanned the room, his eyes stopping on the bloody, ink-covered needles resting on a tray.

The clouds and plants began to come together, to weave in warp and weft, creating a garment of unbelievable delicacy, unexpected resilience and superior softness for his body . He began to speak to himself in advertising copy : headlines, sub-headlines, main copy, baseline, sign-off . He imposed typefaces and font sizes to these words as they unravelled from his mind and spilled out from between his clenched teeth . His lips began to swell with the pressure and friction the words caused as they left his mouth . Some of the serif type, especially the ones in bold, cut his lips and he felt a sense of regret rather than pain .

The blood flowed through his teeth, into his mouth, filling it until he swallowed, choking back the words . The blood slaked his thirst as well, and some of it dribbling down his chin, his neck, flowing over the leafy, cloudy garment without being absorbed, fell on the earth at his feet, mixing with the rain water that had puddled around .

Were those delicate blonde powderpuffs acquainted with these fingers ? The legend spread like rapidfire . Even in the dark, they could tell clubs from spades, but they could tickle their fancy so they scream out at their touch, and later, when they would be toothless, they could lisp to their grandchildren about the time when these fingers closed about their neck !

And so and so forth, building on the legend, to which the man appeared at first inadequate .

After the harangue was over, David used to engage himself in routine, humble tasks, such as lecturing his accomplice he would always remain faithful to the lascivious spirit of the city of the lagoon.

He went about town, a bit, borrowing money on the strength of a letter to Maldini, a rich Venetian merchant who also happenned to be David's patron .

Maldini's infinite compassion and his almost mystical sense of priorities that bound him to a scoundrel and an outlaw like David . David used to take the money and bought himself luxury clothes and other accessories of his art .

This is , perhaps, David's modus operandi of survival .

One day, David had a surprise and visitor . A totally unexpected one . He was no other than the Honourable Governor of Parma . The Governor had an explanation to offer and a proposition to make. He was carrying a letter from his wife, Lady Fronseca, intended for David .

He analysed the simple and short letter in detail . It was a moment of tension , when contradictory desires are locked in combat . He delivered a longish speech to David on the virtues of his wife and yet presented him with the contents of the letter . It was as if delivering a 'summons' before a tribunal of justice .

This was in accordance with the curious logic of desire that drove a married man to his wife's lover as if to explore a secret , reveal a mystery , the mystery of desire itself The Governor wanted David to respond to Lady Fronseca's summons and seduce her.

David was so surprised that he could barely utter a word.

The world was wondrously wacky. He charged into the blankness of desire, recoiling from the flames of lust, the heat of passion, the futility of love and indulged himself in the whiteness of libido, intent upon achieving relief .

On that rainy evening ¦¦¦¦..
the helpless Governor insisted that at the end of their tryst, Fronseca must be totally cured of her infatuation with David .

The last disquistion, on love, on what binds men and women together, about wholeness and completeness . That appeared to have a complete devastating effect on David .

David felt restless . He looked out of the window . The sky seemed to be beckoning him . He could not sit inside any more . He came out of his house .

The earthworms, beetles, insects released by the rain, and no longer threatened by the birds, were beginnning to appear in large numbers, becoming a growing community of vocal, mobile confidence, doing their tribal dance. Beetles were scurrying about, the earthworms wriggling and humping here and there, the insects buzzing and floating all over, up and down, side to side, round and round .

He tried to gradually open up the window of his mind .

He walked on, watching the flowers and fruit trees being voraciously attacked by the abundant insects, no longer kept in ecological check. He picked up and discarded stones, seeds, branches that resembled cameras and recorders . Realisation was beginning to dawn upon his thoughts . Coming to terms with the fact that his mind , his eyes, his ears, his nose and his tongue would be the recording devices.

These began to overwhelm him, overpowering in their odours, the volume and pitch, in their graphic intensity . The desire for silence became stronger . The desire itself acquired sound, texture, shading, smell and taste, supplementing the multidudinous babble that was already there . He raised his face to the skies, wanting the rain to drown it all out . But the deluge had ceased and a diamond speckled rainbow came gleaming out of the firmament and drove straight into him, suddenly bestowing colour to the sounds, tastes, odours and sights already wracking his mind, body and soul . He could not tolerate that any more .

Ultimately, David decided to leave Bolzano .

But before any action, David decided to shoot a message , urging the Governor, in a letter , ------to save his wife's soul and protect the great lady from a man such as himself , David .

He saw the river before him . The rainbow actually leaped out of the flowing waters, taking its glitter and hues from the water itself and then, describing a wonderfully perfect arc in the sky, it buried itself in him .

He got the message . he was preparing himself to face the music .

The darkness descended . David let himself out of the main room of the county inn .

David turned and disappeared around the corner.

The only light was the shimmer from the firmament above, reflecting off the water in the river that surround the town. The pure and clean transparent water of the river appeared to clear his mind . The hum of the water was harmonizing with the bubbling air to break the stillness of the darkness. David climbed on top of one of the rocks and squatted to look at the masses of fish below. He pushes open the lid and skimmed his hand across the top of the water. Dozens of fishes ascend and circle the area around the opening.

David leant down toward them. "I told you I'd come tonight.

David reached down . Schools of silver, satiny fish were swimming in formation across his arms. Starfish clung to the coral reef that extended from his ankles up to the back of his knees. He whispered over and over .

He was sitting down on the edge and dangling his legs in the water . The next moment, he propelled himself into the water below . Fishes of all colours and sizes started swirling around David. They surrounded him, wrapping around his body like silk scarves, caressing his skin. David revelled in the attention, sucking in the water calmly, methodically, until his body was feeling heavy .

The next morning , Balboa discovered his body .

Balboa looked at his master's face for a while . A wide smile was stiffened on that face.

He understood that his master's mind had really become crystal clear before death .

-------------------::------------------