i s h t a r r i a........

Despite its enfeebling blow, the encounter with mum seemed to have unencumbered me of the abominable sense of guilt that had been beleaguering me for the past few months for hiding the secret of my romance with Martin from my parents. And despite the worrisome uncertainty of my parents’ reaction, I drifted into a tranquil and peaceful sleep the moment my head touched the pillow, totally oblivious of the roughshod treatment that Martin was designing for me, and which was going to make everything else seem relatively light and bearable. Having brought the interrogation to a close, mum was anxious to take me home, but I escaped her persistence by claiming exhaustion and fatigue. Dina supported my excuses, sparing me yet another weighty encounter, this time with my dad, which I, given the already charged situation, was desperate to put off as long as I could. Mum, anyhow, left tight-lipped. And from the little she had breathed, I gathered that she was going to discuss the matter in depth ...

Mum wasn’t naïve enough, however, to buy my defensive claim that Martin was like any other suitor. “Is he?” Mum asked, arching her eyebrow. “Well, listen up Liana,” she carried on with a firmer tone. “Dina has told me everything that I needed to know, but I want to hear it from you now; and when I say everything, I mean it, Liana! You hear me? Everything!” I straightened slightly, leaning my back against the headboard, and I sat still for a few moments, my heart thumping wildly, and my mind trying hard to marshal its jumbled thoughts in preparation for the arduous “cross examination.” Well, it was judgment day alright! Notwithstanding, it dawned on me that I mustn’t bury my head in the sand and indulge myself in wishful thinking. For any further attempt to blot out or obscure the truth had not only become utterly unfeasible, but was also futile since it wasn’t going to serve any purpose. Moreover, I was racing with time. Martin was in the process of arranging for his final departure ...

I leaned against the copier, my back pressed to it, and stood, hands folded against my chest, anxious for an explanation. He maintained what seemed to be an everlasting silence, settling his smiling eyes provocatively on mine. My thin patience ran even thinner, and surprisingly contrary to my shy nature, I took the initiative, killing the nervous wait, “What is this all about?” “I told you,” he replied and reiterated calmly his previous reply, “It’s about time.” His provocative demeanor inflamed further my stifled rage, which I sensed now to be surging, engulfing my head and burning my face, which must’ve been glowing red. Despite my befuddlement, I was aware of how much he was enjoying this ungoverned manifestation of emotions. “And what’re you up to now?” I asked, assaying hard not to betray my feelings. But such self-control was unnecessary since the question in itself was quite revealing, and had said it all. I was hoping that he was surely going to talk about us, about me,...

I almost dropped the receiver when it was handed over to me by Fury ; I was at sea, not knowing what to say, or how to broach the conversation. A few moments of tranquilizing procrastination that were punctuated by drags of deep breath finally helped me manage a few words, “Hi…Martin.” I was striving for normalcy, but my disobediently wayward emotions declared themselves vividly through my quivering voice. And my helpless apprehension reigned, overarching the crushed emotions that were still clinging to a thin line of fading hope, and pleading heartily within myself for an alternate tell, “Don’t, don’t say it, please don’t. What I heard cannot be true; I am certain you love me enough to spare me all this pain.” Disengaging me from my tumult of silent pleas, his voice came through the line, justifiably reserved and cautious, yet as reassuring as ever, “Hi Lu… how’re you?” Well, even though his words reflected his wonted composure, yet “Lu” would’ve by no means missed the tinge of anxi...

Fury sat facing me, begging and importuning and pressing me to call him. But sunk in a deep valley, I was oblivious to her urging, her bidding me to piece my shattered world together, and restore the felled clarity of my mind. Not sure how long she went on with her adamant pleading, but the humming of my ears all of a sudden grew louder as I sensed an abrupt silence prevailing. Don’t know if it were that Fury finally gave up trying, or that it were merely a tactical retreat that usually ensues an attack? All I could remember when I raised my heavy-laden head was her statue-like posture. She smiled when my disoriented and wet eyes met hers, the smile of a true and genuine friend, hurriedly reassuring me. But a mute unresponsiveness was all I could offer. The sympathetic moment when our glances held was disrupted by my reaching out to the tissue box that was sitting on my desk, and feebly pulling out a few sheets to wipe my tear-stained face. I was helpless and rudderless as a small bo...

I received an email from one of Ishtarria's friends querying if my irregular posting is the result of having lost the drive or desire required to complete my book online. I would like to confirm that the reverence that I carry in my heart and soul for this wonderful phase of my life, and the hard work that I have already put into the writing of my book online, make the finishing of what I have started a foregone conclusion . It's my demanding new job, however, and the difficulties of reliving the pain of the parts to come that are behind this irregular posting. However, to all the readers of Ishtarria I say: trust that I will certainly be back, irrespective of the lengthy periods of my absences. Please bear with me. I am on the final touches of the next post. Will publish it in a few days.

Fury’s words precipitated down on me like a devastating hurricane, which wound its inclement hands around my neck, thrusting my soul out of my body, and hurling it ruthlessly up into the remotest skies, only to be cast down again, smashed to smithereens. My whole body went numb, painfully numb, and shock produced a lump in my throat, sucking it dry as if sandpaper had been scraping against it. And even though every bone and muscle in my body ached with shivery cold, I was, in a space of a few seconds, drowning in an inundating sweat. As if placed in a big block of ice, my feet and hands trembled and screamed their blistering pain in oceans of sweat. Bedeviled and struck dumb, I sat motionless as the dead, bidding my hardest to come alive from an impaling nightmare, which, with every breathless attempt that I would make to break loose from its smothering grip, would pierce me deeper down, and swallow me further into its bottomless abyss. I tried to find my voice, but it just vanished. ...