Killing the Red God

A serialization of my novel, "Killing the Red God". | Copyright: Hari Kumar | website: www.harismind.com | If this is your first visit, please start from the bottom (start of Chapter 1)

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Location: Singapore, Singapore

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Chapter 2 -- Part 2

For reading the first chapter, you may download it in Acrobat PDF format from here (Click here!)


I have a good look at the living room. It is tastefully furnished in Balinese style. The boxes are still there like an ugly pillar. There is a huge painting of Koi fishes in a pond. The water in the painting flowing into the room, signifying good Feng Shui. That is perhaps the only thing that is not Balinese in this room. But then Feng Shui is important. At one end of the room is a large glass door, with French windows on either side that leads to a spacious balcony. I step into the balcony. There is a rock garden with a water feature and a stone Buddha at one corner of the balcony. There are rattan chairs in the middle and a lush garden beside it. A lovely breeze is blowing, playing with the bamboo wind-chime that is suspended from the overhang, making throaty, erratic sounds. I can see bumboats plying the Singapore River. There are a few high-speed boats too. I watch the boats tearing the water, as if unzipping its fluid skin. I get bored after a while and step back into the living room.
I walk to the large display set that houses the TV and the music system, besides some nick-nacks. There is a loose pile of CDs on one of the shelves, mostly Ghazals by Pankaj Udhas, Chitra Singh and Adnan Sami. I choose three Adnan Samis and feed it to the machine. His soulful voice floats in: Pyaar bina jeena nahin jeena (Living without love is not life), Mujhse bichhadna kabhi na…(Do not ever desert me)
Perhaps it is Sami, I do not know, but I am in the mood for some whiskey. I select a Black Label and a glass from the bar and pour myself a stiff one after dropping two ice cubes from the fridge. I take a sip and then another…
I do not know if it’s Mr. Walker or Mr. Sami or both who is responsible for the strange stirrings in me. I am at peace with the world. At peace with Nisha (let her be, let me be). At peace with Kavitha…? I have to make peace with her, an urgent need. I pour a peace offering and drop another two cubes in it and walk to her bedroom. The bathroom door is ajar.

(To be continued...)

1 Comments:

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