It was a lovely summer day.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  The scent of lilac perfumed the fresh morning air.  The parish neighborhood of St. Francis of Assisi hummed with activity.  Home owners tended their lawns with gentle loving care.  Children played and ran amuck in the school yard letting out squeals of joy and happiness.

On the steps of St. Francis of Assisi Church, there sat a homeless man named Tim, dressed in rags, sobbing his heart out.  He was a sight for sore eyes.

Father Kelly, an elderly man with a slight stoop, dressed in Franciscan friar robes, approached the wretched soul with humility and kindness.  He had heard the poor man’s wailings from the rectory.

“Can I help you, son?”

“Buzz off!  I aint done wrong.”  Tim cried.

“Would you like to come inside for a cup of coffee and something to eat?   The priest gently spoke his words filled with Christ’s undying love.

“Fuck your coffee.  Fuck your food.  Just leave me alone.  You needed shit about me.  I’ll bugger off soon.”

“As you wish.”  The priest walked away in silence.

Tim thought,   “What the hell am I doing here!”   He stood up, and paced up and down the perimeter of the church.  He hit his head with his clenched fists.

“I bloody remember.”  He shouted. “I want forgiveness.”

He had damned the church and its teachings, which insisted on exemplary Christian behavior.  He sighed deeply.  He blew his nose with his fingers, the snot flying into the air and landing on the road.

“It’s not bloody fair!  I aint good!  The psychosis got in the way!  God, do you hear me?” He shouted.

Across the street from the church, a small crowd of people had gathered and watched Tim’s antics.

He was tired of his friggin life, of the hospitalizations, of the psychotropic drugs, and the talk therapy.  He wished never to have been born.  He gazed at the church doors.  He wanted to enter, to prostrate himself before the cross, before Jesus, the messiah of the world, and confess his ghastly sins but he couldn’t do it.  Inertia had set in.  Gripped by anger, he pummeled his fists against the brick and mortar of the church’s facade.  His hands bled red.  He was oblivious to his pain.

Crying, he pressed his bleeding hands together and fell to his knees.

He shouted.  “God help me!”  He fell into a daze and collapsed to the ground.

In the distance, the siren of a police car could be heard.   Two officers approached and stood over Tim.  They prodded him with their feet.

One of the officers shouted, ”Get up you homeless piece of scum!”

When Tim opened his eyes and saw the two police officers standing over him, he cried, “Don’t taser me bro.  I’ll get up.”

He tried to pick himself up, stumbled, and hit the ground.

An ambulance soon arrived and carted him to the psychiatric ward of the local hospital.

Jones was an unsure man. Throughout his short life he was always in two minds about everything. Did he choose the right career? Did he choose the right wife? Were the kids growing up right? Were they really his kids?

But none of that mattered anymore. His career was long over. The kids were already dead. His wife, he shot her in the head point blank with his double barrel pump-action shotgun. Nothing mattered anymore, because for once in his life he was sure, that the world as he knew it had come to an end.

All the efforts by the government to stop the virus outbreak had gone kaput. He had pleaded and pleaded to the government, not to use gunpowder based explosives on them, it’ll only aid in the virus to spread at a faster rate. But they wouldn’t listen. After all, he had created the virus in the first place, so he knew best. The fact that he led to the outbreak didn’t help much with his credibility. For once know one could blame Microsoft, they did ask him 5 times ‘Do you really want to run the unauthorized program’ and he did. Curios minds, these scientists.

He loved those zombie movies, for he knew he could make them come alive. He also knew that reality would be much more brutal than what the movies showed. He was right.

He was now probably the only human left who was unexposed to the virus, thanks to the handy gas mask in his laboratory and the gun from the dead security guard. But now, the gas was running out. His family was dead. He had nothing left to live for.

So he loaded his gun and dashed out of his home, and ran down the street, determined to take down as many of those zombies as he could. He didn’t encounter anyone for a couple of blocks and saw McDonalds was open. Burgers just lying there. He thought why not eat a couple before he went down fighting. He realized the flaw in his plan as soon as he opened the glass lid of his gass mask to eat the burgers. “Oh Shit!” he thought out loud, as he began to turn a zombie himself. These burgers would kill you, his wife always dead. Who thought, she’d turn out to be the smart one. As his skin started to show blisters he heard some one call out his name – “Jones! Jones! Dr. Jones wake up now! Your wife is here to see you…”

The gunslinger added a couple of bullets into the barrel of her gun and cocked it.

It clicked satisfyingly. She heard noises outside. A chain rattled nearby. All her senses were on high alert.

She had been combat ready for a while. His smile had been taunting her for a while. It was like he kept expecting her to do something.

Her negligee reeked of his sweat. She refused to wash it. It reminded her of why the deed had to be done.

She stood in the middle of the four poster bed and stared into his scared eyes. She had never seen him in this state before.

The gun, felt even more solid now. It felt like an old lover – tingling with the anticipation yet knowing nothing was ever going to happen. But she would make it happen. It was time.

The gun roared. Red pillow feathers swirled around her. Their touch was light, almost comforting in their nothingness.

Now who the hell did he think he was, barging in at this time? Is there no sense of time, no manners that these city boys harbour?

“Dinner, by any chance?”

This is a home. There are rules! And am I just supposed to wait up each night?

“Uh… thanks, you’re a doll!”

Oh, now he smells of liquor too. Great! Wait till Mum is up and…

“Well, I’ll be off then.”

Oh Gawd! Some friends dad kept… and now we harbour this idiot son of his friend, from ‘NYC’. One fortnight is like a year! We’re simple folks - We like our timings, our TV dinners, our soaps. We like our tea time, our knitting. This is the exact kind of thing we don’t want.  And then he comes so late from god knows where and he…  Ughh, don’t shout so loud!!

“Hey, could you help me out with these clothes if you’re still up? I’d be screwed if I don’t sort…”

Anything to stop the shouting down the stairwell. Well, it is his last night. Ok… packed the jeans, shirt, pants… eww! Dirty undies! And would he just STOP coming my way? I can’t handle that breath… and that T-shirt. Is there no grammar rule you adhere to? What the heck is ‘Badder and baddest’? Whoa!  What’s that sticky, bloody stuff on top? Sauce? Wine? Blood?

A whisper. “You smell awfully nice, you know.”

And you smell awful. Period. And you’re slurring. In my ear. Hey! Don’t go playing with my hair. It’s not like you notice me.

“Wait… I won’t hurt you, hmm?”

That smile. And that mouth. Oh please, stop. STOP.

“How old are you, anyway?”

Like it matters. Will you please shut up and NOT stop? Oh don’t stop. I can’t breathe, I… Oh that feels good too…Whaa..? OK. Umm… Uh!

What the heck, Mom always said to be gracious to guests.

And I did say I like it simple.

Women irrespective of caste, place and age tend to succumb to our own inner fear and fail to notice their worthiness in the society.   At a very young age Deepa got married to the person she loved. She was sure she wanted this relationship and he would be her real soul mate. Over a period of time her husband started drifting away and his love for Deepa faded.  Deepa who was dedicated to her work and family was completely unaware of her husband’s undisclosed affair.  Soon she was a mother of two and she managed an amazing work-life balance.

Couple of year laters a day came when her husband left her with her two little daughters. They got divorced and she struggled as a single parent to educate and graduate her kids. The kids got to meet their father and as they grew old they started living with the father Deepa alone. She was struck by depression.  She could not focus and had to be on medication. She was considered not fit to work and was asked to leave her job.

Loosing her loved one, then children, then job she had nothing to look forward in life, she lived a lonely life and survived on government funds. With faith in herself and her life she decided that her life had to move on and struggled single mindedly to overcome sickness, over a period of time her health got better and she managed to get her old job back.  She got her first daughter married and worked until she retired.

Her daughters would occasionally meet her for lunch and dinner. They would call her once a week, her life revolved around them. She got upset when they ignored her. She was often reminded of the past and blamed for not being a responsible mother.  She was aware that she was losing her self-respect to her own children; didn’t have the courage to fight against it. Last year she got her second daughter married.

Satisfied about fulfilling her responsibility she determined to move on with her own life. She completed her masters in sanskrit, which she yearned to do for years, started socializing and got a pet for herself. Her children on the other hand never respected her and continued to accuse, ignore and treated her in a dreadful manner.

Determined not to give in, she fought against her mind. She decided to be strong and not to be dependent on her children It took a lot of inner strength and courage to be an independent woman, but she did it.

Deepa is in her sixties and her daily life feels like the first light of the morning bright and cheerful. She stauncly believes that she will live happily every moment of her life without begruding till the last day of her life.

Gregory played with the glowing lights on the panel as Abby studied the bottle on the table.

“How is this supposed to work again?” Abby asked in a trembling voice.

Gregory shook his head and breathed out a sigh, “I’ve told you this, like a million times already. Leave the science to me. You just be prepared to be a part of the most historic moment of mankind.”

“No. I want to understand. Why do we need this bottle of scotch again?”

Gregory put his glasses down and walked to Abby, “Look. The reason time traveling always fails is there are just too many variables. Add to that trouble avoiding getting sucked into inter-dimensional worm holes… what I’m trying to say is there has to be constant involved.”

“Okay” was all Abby could manage, blinking her eyes as his hands clenched on her shoulders.

“I have been unable to perfect the equation so that it could teleport us to specific co-ordinates back in time. Right now, it requires a constant… an object that existed both in the current time and in during the timeline you wish to visit. The bottle is that constant.”

“How old is this bottle?” Abby picked it up to analyze it.

“DO NOT…”, he snatched the bottle back and kept it back on the table, “Do not touch it honey. I know that our family had had this bottle for at least six generations. Now, let me finish my work. In about five more minutes you’ll be witnessing a miracle.”

“Where would we be going. I mean how far back?” squeaked Abby, still not sure what she was getting into.

“We’ll be visiting my great grand father. I’ve been told he was one of the greatest geniuses of his time. As am I. Its always a pleasure to meet a fellow great mind. We all know how rare they are. Right then, I’ll pull this switch and here we go. We’re ready. Go to your spot and do not move.”

They both entered their chambers. As the red light on the panel turned to green, they were gone. Disappeared from the spot they stood.

Hardly a second would have passed by and then they were back.

Abby stormed out of the chamber and threw her purse at the bottle.

“Abby! Calm down. Do not throw anything at the machine.”

“A miracle! Historic moment of mankind, my ass!”, she shouted. “You took me back in time to show me you great grandfather fucking… sorry thats too cheap a word for a genius like you, right. Your great gradfather fornicating with some… some whatever…. what kind of sick pervert are you?”

“Abby… hon, I couldn’t have known.”

“God knows where else the bottle had been in those six generation of yours. The things they were doing with it. Eww… I’m leaving.”

“Abby, wait. I also have my mom’s necklace. She said its atleast a 100 yrs old.” He heard the door shut behind Abby as he stood shouting, “Abby… Abby!”

The sky, witness to the day’s lost vigour

Enveloped in grey

Inches from its death

And the dark beast shall rise again

To find its prey

I see the light fading slowly

Another glow shall come alive

First it was the sun, and now the night’s light

They play with the glass, enveloping it gently

Yet, in a quiet tussle

To surpass the other, with all their might

Every day, every night

This play I see, I smile

Then I gaze over the ocean

Its mighty silence that stretches for miles

As silent, as lonely, as I

With no one at all,

But for my wine

Yes, another day has passed me by.

“Wow, that is spectacular!”, Katie exclaimed the moment she pushed the heavy door and entered Mr. Dudley’s study.

She was already panting by climbing eight floors of the almost abandoned building. She bolted the door behind her and pinned hair back.

“Useful.”

Katie drew a deep breath and took a few more moments to let the view from the old fashioned windows sink into her.

The antique Mahogany desk caught her eye. It smelled musty but a certain scholastic touch was still attached to it. It surprised her that the desk was clean. An empty bottle of scotch stood by the corner of the desk. There was a photo frame. Grace was smiling.

The one room apartment badly needed a clean up. Scientific journals, random notes and old books lay strewn all over the study.

“Its been 15 years…will he even recognize me?”

Katie had traveled some 3000 miles searching for her grandfather. From whatever traces Mr. Dudley had left and all that Katie could lay her hands upon, Stockholm was the last possibility. Mr. Dudley had just left one day. No notes, no phone, no wire, no nothing. He left behind his wife and a government provided scientists’ quarter.

No reason could have been associated to his sudden disappearance. The people at the lab had no clue about his whereabouts. Neither were the police able to trace him.

“He hasn’t worn his glasses. Shouldn’t be far away.”

Katie waited.

*****

Click.

Katie’s heart was pounding.

“Uhhh….hey who are you? How did you get in?”

“Hi! Mr. Dudley…just some simple science and mechanics”

“How do you know me?”

“I am…”

“Katie?”

“Oh my God, is that you Katie?”

“How long?”

“Three years. You don’t have to explain.”

“But…”

“Makes no difference.”

“Why did you think I was alive?”

“Because you promised me that I can be your assistant once I am 21.”