A Drop of Liquid Hope
Jude Gerald Lopez (III Semester BA English Copy Editor), winner
I sat in silence. The wind grazed my hair and honoured my nostrils with the stench of the seven seas. There were others too, who were seated unmoved in a spell of inactivity sharing silence with me. The sky filled with dark smoke merged easily with the stagnant liquid of the sea, indistinguishable in colour they united and held their bond. An uneasy sight for others, but I begged to differ.
Out of the two, the one that sat away from me kept dropping rocks into the murky water. The object hit the water, no ripples formed and sunk quietly into darkness. Life was something similar, in the end all that awaited one was darkness. There was nothing more to it, we inhabitants of light in our quest to find brighter lights move into darkness.
The stranger moved her neck a few degrees bringing me into her field of vision.
“Is it always like this?”
“It gets darker”
I could tell my reply was quick to bring in anguish to her heart.
“It wasn’t always like this!”
“There were better times?”
“Times where one could see through the water”
“Just the like in textbooks”
“Something like that”
She shifted her gaze and so did I. Her friend however did not bother to break the silence. Content with the murky water he sat there. The clouds grew darker; the source could be seen now. The colossal vessel that floated like the fishes that lost interest in swimming now came into view. Leaving a trail of blacker black, it ordered fishes to rise up and show respect. The fishes rose and the girl’s heart sunk.
A few silhouettes scrambled on board. I remained still, while one shrieked and the other dropped another rock. A rock added to the grave of blue, maybe it fell on Neptune’s grave. I did not know, I didn’t want to know.
The beast leaked black, sons and daughters of Neptune rose in awe. I still remained unmoved but the girl got up and stood for a while. She motioned towards the edge that separated wet from dry and emptied her bottle of water. The clear liquid vanished quickly unable to fight off the evil that lurked in every corner of its new home.
She turned towards me and said “May be that will help.”
**********
Caged Dreams
Mariam Henna (I Semester BA English Copy Editor), Honourable Mention
Theresa:
Tears streamed down her face as she kneeled down at the church, earnestly praying to God to give him a second chance to live. As she said a silent prayer, images of the distant past flashed before her eyes, and she wondered if she would be able to walk out of the church with a new life, leaving out the haunting past.
It was the fateful jouney to the hip city of Bangalore that changed their lives forever. Being the best of friends, Jonathan, Theresa and Rehaan had decided to build up their dreams in this happening place. The busy city life, teenagers in hip clothing, girls smoking in street corners, guys dancing and drinking in pubs enthralled them. Little caring for the consequences, they ended up jumping into this menacing world of drugs and alcohol. Building a journalistic and photography career went down in their list of priorities. Slowly they began to lose themselves.
Jonathan:
Standing outside the ICU room, willing Rehaan to survive through this, I fell into a reverie of thoughts, wishing there was a time machine to alter the turn of events.I remembered everything about that night way too clearly - the late night party, Theresa, high on weed, laughing and dancing with other guys, Rehaan jealousy smitten walking out of the house, drunk and doped , while I tried hard to keep my senses clear. Everything happened within the span of seconds as I rushed behind to stop him.Rehaan, speeding away in his bike failed to see a car coming from the opposite side, and hit straight onto it. The image of him lying on a pool of blood is a memory that still haunts me.
Theresa:
My ears rang with the chant of prayers. My eyes took in an air of despair. The scent of agarbattis hit me with such force that I found it hard to breathe. My lips tasted the saltness of tears that had started streaming down. Although the house was filled with people, I couldnt feel anyone around me. While the five of my senses tried hard to digest the blur of events, the sixth one kept knocking on my head and telling my heart that something was terribly wrong.Rehaan, the love of my life, was lying all pale, draped over in white cloth, after "Yama" sucked the life out of him. I kept staring until everything around went black. Seconds later i could feel my heart hammering inside my chest like a football. Sweat was poring down my forehead as i jolted awake trying to contemplate the events and realization that it was a dream struck me with the force of tsunami waves. It was 4 PM and there was a message from Jonathan on my phone which read : "He's gone" . I curled myself in a fetal position and just let all the tears out.
Jonathan:
When the funeral rites were over, he walked out of the mosque with his head held low and the thought that he would be seeing his best friend for the last time gave his heart a squeeze. The question "what went wrong" kept replaying on his head as he finally got the strength to message Theresa. Without any prior thought, he walked towards their favourite hangout that had a view of the sea and sat there, calmed by the breeze, thinking of their happy lives before that fateful journey.
The wind mirrored their sorrow, as each of their dreams and lives were devastated leaving nothing but deep regrets!
**********
Violet Beach
Markus Sailor (International Exchange Student from Germany), Honourable Mention
John sat on the beach. It had rained and though he looked for a dry spot he felt that his trousers got wet slowly. He did not not do anything about it. His eyes fixed a point in the grey of the harbour. The border between the heaven and the water was unclear in the mist. In his shaking hands John held the letter which changed everything, the letter which made him go to the beach instead of his work. `I'm free now,´ it said, Ì'll arrive on the 30st of October, there is so much to say, but I don't want to do it in this letter, it is better we talk when I'm there.´
John's knees where shaking when he recognized his father in a skinny figure with grey hair and bony hands, ascending the steps of the bus. His mother burst into tears. It has been almost three years now. John had been a little boy when they took him. Innocent. In that very night he got much elder. He had to work every day after school, his childhood was over all in a sudden. Still they had not enough money for much more than tapioca. But his mother wanted it like this. She spent all the money on sending him and his little sisters to school. She didn't want it to spoil their future.
They went to a restaurant to celebrate the reunification of their family. The father stroked the hair of his son, he took one of his daughters on his knees. He asked a lot of questions about their family busines which mother and children somehow had maintained during his time in jail. He told funny episodes about his fellow-prisoners. He smiled and laughed a lot. Only once a black shadow hushed over his face. When the mother asked him if he was tortured. `No,´ he said `of course not.´ After a few hours they ran out of things to speak about. They brought the girls to bed. John proposed to got to the beach.
The sun was setting and colouring the clouds in an unreal violet. They sat there. United. At last. Why had it taken so long?
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