OPERATION NEPTUNE - By hallaay

Î, Lieutenant James Hopes was listed up in the platoon, which incidentally was the largest in the British army during the Second World War. Our immediate mission was to capture and secure the strategically important Omaha beach, along the coast of Normandy. This invasion was crucial for our campaign because the allied forces had chalked out the whole campaign after much contemplation and numerous disagreements. If this campaign were successful the Allies would have an upper hand in the war. At the same time any unexpected backlash from the Germans meant a delay in our invasion and a serious set back to our goal, which was to relieve France from Hitler’s hold within a weeks time. After successfully misleading the Germans into thinking that the attack would begin at Calais, which was apparently the closest point for Great Britain to launch a decent attack, the Allies mutually agreed to kick start the campaign on the 4th of June 1944, which was later postponed to the 6th of June due to bad weather. Fortunately for us, 85 – 90% of the German troops were concentrated on the Eastern front and only 50,000 soldiers were deployed in and around Normandy to counter any possible resistance. We were well aware that if we met with stiff German resistance and if they succeded in holding us off for a couple of days, their reinforcements could arrive in time to push us back into the English channel. Hoping for the best, Operation Neptune, as it was codenamed, was finally flagged off on the 6th.
The Royal Australian airforce and the Royal Norwegian Navy had pounded the shores over the past few days, to handicap the German defense, but the post-bombing reports stated that the Germans had burrowed in deep underground shelters and were waiting it out. We were quite optimistic, that the German defense would crumble before our numbers. We had troops from the United states of America, Polish forces, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Greece and the Netherlands, participating in this invasion. A total of 156,000 troops, the largest seaborne invasion in history, headed towards Normandy.
We were a pack of 45 men, sandwiched into an LCVP (Landing craft vehicle, personnel), which was originally designed to accommodate just 36 souls. There were 50 such ‘Higgins boats’, as the LCVP was fondly known as, heading towards the beach. We were the first wave of the attack, unfortunately. We felt like lambs being marched to the butcher’s shop, blindfolded. Reason being, intelligence information claimed, that the Germans had an array of Mortars lined up on the shore and were complimented by camouflaged enclosures surmounted with machine guns, which had a wide deadly view of the beach ahead. The shores were also littered with metal barricades and barbed wires to hamper our advance. The life expectancy of a soldier was expected to plummet to a mere 30 seconds the moment we stepped on the beach. Now wasn’t that encouraging?
We chopped through the waves and headed, straight as an arrow, towards the beach. We were just a couple of kilometers from Omaha beach. Ten minutes later I will be thrown into the epicenter of the battle and I was petrified at the thought of dodging bullets, grenades and mortar fire and crawling all my way, with hundreds of others, towards a safe zone, which might be nearly 20 to 30 yards away, allowing enough time for the Germans to take leisure in choosing whom to shoot. I clutched the cross hanging from my neck and whispered a prayer.
I had a wife, Emily, and 3 kids, Dan the youngest, Robert the second youngest and tracey the eldest and the most responsible kid i have ever seen, back home in Sussex. Even though i spent most of the time away from home the few days i got to spend with them were invaluable. I owned a small ranch, which was right on the banks of a small river. The house was very dear to us as we had bought it after spending almost 25 years of our lives in a room that was no bigger than a cell. I remember the last time i was home, Dan, had squeaked his first word. It came out as 'wader' which obviously meant 'water'. I was very excited.
I got my call on a beautiful Saturday afternoon asking me to report within two days at the nearest base camp.
Emily came up to me and asked
“Honey...Will you be gone for long?”
“Yes my dear i presume at least 2-3 months or even longer, depending on the darned course of the war.”
“James, please don't go...isn't there some way you can be exempted from this?”
“No love....they would rather shoot me down than exempting me. Moreover my country needs me. I promise you i will be back. We will visit Nanny's when im back.”
I kissed her on her lips, she responded by pressing her face to mine and hugging me. She was trembling. Tears rolled down her cheeks onto mine.
I cupped her face in my palms and looked into her beady beautiful .eyes
“Listen honey....I want you to listen very carefully. Even if you get the letter i want you to repress your grief and concentrate on making our daughter and sons respectable human beings. Make me proud. Understand?”
At this she burst into tears again and hugged me even tightly
“Oh James....please don't leave us...”
As she sobbed in my arms, this heavy feeling seeped into my guts. Was i being foolish?
Would i ever be able to see my family again?
Will i ever be able to see my kids grow?
A swift breeze seemed to answer my questions with the rustle of dead leaves and twigs.
As we neared the coast I managed to catch a glimpse of the beach. It wasn’t anything like a beach. The sand was black in colour and the beach was cratered, probably by allied bombings. I realized that the LCVP would be disembarking us at least 15 yards away from the shore as the blockades prevented access to the shore. That would mean we would have to wade through the waters, which would be hard enough, and be sitting ducks for the German machine gunners perched safely, in their enclosures, on top of the Atlantic wall, which was supposedly built by a rogue named Rommel, a German field marshal. I wondered how many of us were actually going to survive this suicide mission. A chill ran down my spine when I realized that even I could end up being delivered home on four shoulders to be mourned over or get captured and spend an eternity in a German concentration camp till death relieved me. The battle would go on till the triumphant emerged, not before millions lost their lives.
I was shook awake from my thoughts by my best friend Lieutenant James brown. He asked me if I was ok and helped me relax by cracking jokes. I laughed nervously. I looked at him and deep down inside me I realised I might not see him after the battle. I had to be courageous enough to face the facts. I needed to reassure myself that I had to survive this test. I had to live to see another day. I had to accomplish my mission. I was inclined to funnel my thoughts towards modes of survival, tactfulness, depend on my natural instinct to survive and also depend a great deal on lady luck.
The briefing we had on the ship just before our departure was still fresh in my mind. Colonel Norton, had been least descriptive but was very specific with the do’s and don’ts, though he couldn’t help flavoring it with his infamous satirical notes to each of his commands
“Under no bloody circumstance will you stand up unless you want to applaude the enemy machine gunners performance.
You will not, I repeat, will not, disobey any orders of your immediate officers. Those who do, I will make sure are shot in case the enemy doesn’t get him first.
You will not account to heroics; the medics aren’t getting paid for nothing.
And trust me when I ask you keep a leash on your emotions on the battlefield, coz if you lose it, its as good as being dead.
If you get hit, try and keep moving… Blah blah blah…..”
He barked out his commands till he ran out of breath. At the end he surprised everyone by muttering a “God bless you lads” which was so uncharacteristic of him. We realised that his love for the army and the obnoxious nature of this operation had finally got to him.
Ironically the boat traveled faster than my thoughts and in no time we were near drop point. The German machine gunners were already firing at our LCVP. Bullets zinged above us. We could just see thin, quick streaks of lights streaking past us, just inches above our head. The signs were very ominous. I steadied my thoughts and concentrated on the task ahead.
The shutter went down and almost immediately we heard the sound of bullet piercing flesh and the soldiers in the front fell dead. The unmistakable noise of the machine gun firing at a distance was complimented by the sound of bodies being blustered by bullets in quick succession. One by one they slumped to the ground, dead. The soldier in front of me got one in his head and his blood stained my face and shirt almost immediately. Instinctively I ducked and almost immediately a flurry of bullets found their targets behind me. A shower of bullets hit a flurry of soldiers in the next LCVP as well. They were slaughtering us.
Our LSVPs had sailed right into their waiting arms.
There was an explosion right in front of our LCVP followed by a pregnant silence.
Although the silence lasted only a few seconds, some of us took this opportunity and climbed over the side of the vehicle and jumped into the water. James, who had also miraculously escaped, looked dazed but was unscathed. Some of the guys fired in the direction of the machine gun shelters, desperately hoping against all odds that the shot would find its mark.
From my LCVP barely 10 soldiers had escaped the wrath of the German machine gunners. The rest were either dead or injured. We regrouped and slowly advanced. Bullets rained all around us. We kept as low as possible and waded through the waves. I heard a bullet pinging on a helmet and saw one of our soldiers swoon lifelessly into the water. His blood painted the water red around his lifeless body.
Another guy got one right in his chest. He managed a scream before he drowned.
The soldier, with a flame-thrower mounted on his back, had somehow managed to reach the beach and was followed closely by a couple of others. They were crawling towards a barricade when a stray bullet hit the gas cylinder and all three of them burst into flames, among screams of anguish.
An empty LSVP exploded at a distance.
The German mortar fire was making its presence felt.
The explosions were random and unpredictable.
Soon we lost another LSVP, this time with all the soldiers in it.
Some soldiers who were engulfed by fire came running out of it, blinded and waving their hands wildly in the air. The trigger-happy German machine gunners gunned them down mercilessly.
This was hell on earth.
I wound myself up behind a metal barricade and trembled in fear.
“Keep your emotions in check”. I reminded myself.
The bullets deflected off the metallic body making sharp “pinging” metallic sounds.
Soldiers from other LSVPs scurried, aimlessly, across the beach towards the walls.
The Nazi machine gunners went on a rampage. Each wave of soldiers was greeted with bursts of lead.
The beach was scattered with bodies of dead soldiers.
Many were injured. Some could live to see another day whereas the others would bleed to death in the next 15 minutes.
One of them had a gaping slash across his abdomen and was clinging onto his intestines, which were gushing out along with his other organs.
James ran up to an adjoining barricade and hid behind it.
Those who were embarking from the LSVPs made a dash for the barricades.
The German Machine gunners were having difficulty sighting us as the mortar firing on the beach had spewed up dark smoke screens which seemed to provide some of us temporary cover for a while.
They panicked and started firing wildly.
They were severe on the LSVPs though and fired at will, killing dozens with one squeeze of the trigger.
A body floated up to me, it was decapitated, probably by a shrapnel. I was horrified. I pushed it away. Wondered whom it belonged to.
A shower of bullets deflecting off the barricade, behind which we were hiding.
I noticed a soldier, who had been in our platoon, searching for his severed hand. He eventually found it on the beach but wasn’t too sure if it was his.
A group of soldiers, about 10-15 of them, made a dash for the safety of the slope from where an attempt could have been made to silence the gunners but they barely made half way before they were mowed down by the machine gunners. Al of them slumped to the ground and they weren't capable of making anymore movements.
We had to get rid of the machine gunners. We had to take them down.
They owned the beach; we were the trespassers. We were paying a heavy price for challenging them.
The LSVPs containing the second wave had halted at a safe distance and were waiting for us to take the beach, which wasn’t happening to their dismay.
As far as I could make out about 90 of us were left on the beach, bundled up behind the barricades.
The machine gunners weren’t getting easy targets now.
Just when I was wondering what we could do to break this stalemate the captain shouted.
“Lads there’s a trench near the wall. We need to take cover there to press forward. Use your smoke bombs to get cover.”
That made sense.
We unplugged the smoke bombs and threw the cans onto the beach. Almost immediately a dense screen of dark brownish smoke covered the beach.
We ran for our lives.
The confused and alarmed machine gunners ran amok and fired randomly into the smoke hoping to get us.
I had traveled half the distance when there was an explosion nearby. I hit the dirt. But was back on my feet in no time. I heard someone screaming in pain behind me.
I found another guy wounded by the blast.
I grabbed him by his collar and dragged him behind me.
Then suddenly the smoke seemed to fade away. The wind was whisking it away, blowing our cover.
There was another explosion nearby. Near enough to throw me a feet in the air. I got up and crawled back to the wounded soldier and tugged at him.
Surprisingly he weighed lesser. The portion of his body below his chest was missing. He wouldn't have needed it either, he was dead.
The machine gunners were elated. They were back in action.
The mortar firing started again.
We were trapped. We couldn’t turn back. We were left with no other option but to sprint 30 yards to the trench.
I ran for my life. So did James, close behind me. We were about ten yards from the trench.
A soldier behind me stepped on a mine and an explosion followed. I was airborne for a moment. I landed 10 meters away. James was beside me too. I saw an impaired hand, covered with blood, next to me. I stood up and without looking back, called out to James to follow.
“I c-can’t.” Said James. His voice clearly seemed to be overwhelmed with pain.
I quickly turned back to confront a gory sight.
James had lost his leg in the explosion. He was clutching the blood squirming portion below his knee. The portion below his knee-cap was missing. The gruesome sight churned my stomach.
I rushed to his side and tried to comfort him.
He was in pain. Excruciating pain.
“Medic!! We need a Medic here. Lawson, god damn it where are you?’ I screamed.
No response. Another mortar explosion nearby showered us with mud and debris.
I took out my bandana and tied it tightly around his thigh, hoping to stem his blood from gushing out.
He screamed in pain.
“Don’t worry James, you will be all right. Let this battle end. I promise we will go fishing at the spot near my home, I told you earlier, where we can camp and have a jolly good time.”
He looked up at me. A smile streamed across his face.
Then, as I was looking at him a bullet pierced through his helmet and his head hung lifelessly.
I knew this was coming. At least he died a hero.
Died for his country.
Concealing a tear I picked up my Lee-Enfield and rushed back towards the trench.
I made it.
I pullet out the bayonet from my backpack and slid it onto the mouth of my gun.
I was ready to kill.
About 40 of us made it to the trench.
We sighted a narrow path leading to the top of the wall from where the German line could be breached.
The machine gunners concentrated their fire at the edge of the trench, trying desperately to take us down, forcing us to remain where we were, probably figuring out that their control over the wall was in peril. A breach would be a huge setback for the Germans, as the walls were the only defense they had against us until their reinforcements arrived. Their reinforcements would take atleast two days to arrive and it was virtually impossible for them to hold on any longer. Our victory was inevitable.
There was a huge explosion to the right.
A mixture of body parts and blood rained around us.
They were chucking grenades at us.
One of our machine gunners who had managed to make it to the trench stationed his gun over the edge and trained the gun at the slit in the enclosure through which the Germans fired at us.
He seemed to be in rage. He fired incessantly.
The Germans in the enclosure immediately took cover.
This was our chance.
I jumped up and sprinted towards the narrow path.
Others followed me.
It was quite steep and was difficult to climb with 20kgs of supplies on our back. We managed to climb half way through. I was in the lead.
I fired a shot into the enclosure and i could swear i heard a German die.
I had killed the first German in this battle.
Almost immediately I noticed something small and black rolling down the slope at us.
It was a grenade!
There was nowhere to run. I dived desperately to the right.
There was a deafening explosion. I was catapulted into the air. I landed like a ragged doll at some distance from the path that we were climbing and rolled down the slope uncontrollably. I came to rest at the bottom of the hill and I lost consciousness.
When I came around I found myself in a pool of blood.
A mincing pain ran through my hand and the splinters on my face agonized me further.
I was glad when i sat upright almost immediately and found both my legs intact except for a burn or two.
But I soon realized that I had lost three fingers on my left hand. Where once stood my little finger, ring finger and my middle finger, I found a blood-oozing crevasse, which ran through diagonally from my index finger till my wrist. The pain was excruciating. I screamed in agony.
Somebody ran up to me and kneeled down beside me.
The Red Cross on his helmet comforted me.
He bound whats remaining of my palm heavily with bandage and injected me with a painkiller. I felt better.
“Quite a nasty one you have here mate. How you feeling now?”
“Better…uhh” I managed to squeak.
“Guess what? we took the beach sooner than expected. You can expect a party by the fire side, late in the night, when we camp.”
He looked really happy. It irritated me.
I managed supress an urge to slap him.
“How many men did we lose?” I snapped back at him expressionlessly.
The smile vanished from his face instantly.
“Well..according to General Bromley….er….the count is estimated to be around 1900 men…but I guess it could be more, taking into account the number of bodies which weren’t recovered from the drowned LCVPs”
I felt devastated. 1900 men? Make it 2000….dead!!
“They didn’t die for nothing…the invasion has started…the war will be over soon.”
“Not before countless women are widowed, mothers are made son less and so on…. this war is evil”
“Yeah I agree…. it is…but that’s the way its been, it is and will be.”
“Uhhhh…help me up…er…sorry, whats your name?”
“Templeton sir…You can call me temple. Am from the Red Cross as you might have noticed.”
He gripped my hand and helped me up. The pain had subsided by then.
I got a good look of the scene around me. Almost all the German enclosures were up in flames. That made quite a sight. Nothing could have made me happier.
There was momentary relief.
The beach was littered with bodies of soldiers. Some being attended to, some abandoned. The medics were scurrying from one body to the other looking for signs of life.
The once blue waves had a red tinge to them, for quite evident reasons, when they seeped the shores.
The tide was rising. Some of the bodies on the shore were being washed away, swallowed by the sea.
“Temple…can you please take me to the top of the hill. I just want to see our trophy.”
“Trophy?!”
“Yeah…our objective....the Omaha beach....come with me. Please.”
“Sure thing..”
We slowly made our way up the slope, to the top of the hill. As we climbed the horrific image of the grenade bouncing down the path flashed before me.
The path was drenched in blood. The ground bled when i stepped on it.
I stopped in my tracks and closed my eyes for a second.
“What happened sir?” a curious looking Temple asked.
“Have you ever been on the field during the battle?”
“No sir…why do you ask?”
I ignored his question.
He didn’t bother to retaliate to my cold behavior. He must have thought i had lost it.
Temple found an injured soldier and galloped up to him.
I stood there alone watching the scene.
Some German prisoners were being hushed away in a line at gun point. They bore a look of disbelief and probably were finding it hard to believe that they had relinquished a crucial frontier. The war could only go in our favor now. Hitler's days were numbered. The allies would disembark here, reorganize and launch a hurricane push towards Germany, vaporizing any insignificant German defense on the way.
Some of the soldiers were dancing to the tunes on the radio, some were immersed in thoughts, some in grief of losing their friends or comrades.
A group of US soldiers were in a heated argument over who had killed the most Germans. One of them eventually overshadowed the others when he said he claimed 34 German lives.
My job was done. I had fought for my country or to be more precise fought for my own survival. I had succeeded.
I was a hero now.
I had taken the side of the good, in the battle between good and evil and though the going was tough i discovered that part of me which i never expected would surface and eventually overwhelm me.
Finally i will be allowed to take a few months off work to spend quality time with family.
I silently told myself “Emily. Honey. I'm coming home. Keep the door open.”

Lonely--------Mile-------------

The emptiness inside me is for real,
My life is meaningless, I feel,
Not once but twice, cheated,
With malice was I treated.

I was down and out, inconsolable,
In rage, undeniable.
Turmoil flooded days of mine,
Sleepless teary nights from nine.

I laugh at myself, half crying,
With every smile, unfailingly lying.
Scorching memories hurt the most,
waves of remorse hit heart’s coast.

Every moment I think, am I the man I Am not supposed to be?
Or is it just, all I don’t have, that I see?
Don’t I deserve true love, like all others do?
Or am I to remain a loser, one of the few?

Death, a distant enticement, less an option,
Life unlivable, can’t conjure up a solution.
Living hell on earth. Inevitable,
Other’s fortune, painfully enviable.

Remorse is all I have left in my soul,
Loneliness, depression have taken their toll,
A dead weight I have become on this world,
But deep inside me, buried, wisdom untold.

Do not fall in love I would preach,
If you do, do not lose, I would teach,
Or you could forget to live and to smile,
And like me, forever, walk the lonely mile.
- The Hallaay

The breeze, Bob and I

The day was perfect for a long ride. The breeze was steady, warm but not hot. The sun played hide and seek with the clouds but hid most of the time. There was a slight drizzle or a sprinkle should I say, in the air, yet it was negotiable. The traffic was surprisingly tolerable. My Digi cam was ready for its first mission. My best buddy, my bike, the Bajaj Pulsar 150CC dtsi, ‘BOB’ as I fondly called him, was all fuelled up and sparkling clean for the long journey. I don’t like referring to him as ‘it’ because ‘he’s’ more of a family member and probably the best thing that ever happened to me in my ordinary life. My spirit was high, so was my friend’s, Krishna, a human friend this time.

Our destination was Mahabalipuram and we also planned to visit some beaches on our way, if time permited. I slipped on my favourite red t-shirt, my woefully worn out dirty blue jeans and made sure I wore my black gloves as well to go with it. I might have looked a bit ridiculous but I have always dreamed of dressing up like that for the ride, cared two hoots for what others thought about it. Oh and I almost forgot to mention my black goggles to top it up. I might have looked like a hooligan but I loved it either ways. Krishna’s appearance was quite modest, as always. A simple t-shirt to go with his clean blue jeans made us look like total opposites. In a way he made me feel guilty.

So all three of us started at around 10 in the morning. I decided not to tell my mom, as she would have freaked out at the idea of me traveling long distances on my bike, but I kept my friend’s mom informed, just in case. I picked up Krish on my way and bid adieu to his Bro who looked disheartened at the fact that he wasn’t a part of the troop. I later learnt from Krish that it was his dream to go with me for a long ride on my bike. I felt sorry for him and wished I could take him as well, but alas Bob could accommodate just two clowns ata time. Maybe next time, whenever that is.

I threaded Bob through the city traffic and was just waiting to break into the spacious inviting roads of the east coast road. The city roads were usually sickening. The nauseatingly slow moving cars whose drivers probably thought they had all the time in the world to reach their destination. They were equally contested impatient reckless autorikshaw drivers rode as if they had forgotten their father’s birthday. Cyclists who just seemed to appear out of thin air to block our way. Then to glorify the insanity the insane bus drivers who sped up behind you blared their horns often, to give you Goosebumps. The unpredictable share autos who swerved ominously to their left and right, carelessly, with least consideration for other commuters lived up to their reputations of being "rodents of the road". To top it all, the most dangerous of the lot, last but not the least, the pedestrians who danced across the road, probably expecting an applause from the motorists for their performance. I gave one such pedestrian an ear full, in return, he blinked at me with utmost innocence. Frankly, I hated the city streets but to tell you the truth, I had got used to it. Probably, surviving the city traffic had elevated my patience level to new heights over the years.

Finally we broke through the traffic. Bob and I hungrily laid my eyes on the black smooth tar road ahead of us, the beautiful scenic East coast road. Bob’s engine roared enthusiastically and comfortably climbed up to 80 kmph. I was at my happiest. I was in union with nature. The rain sprinkling on my face, the roar of Bob’s engine and the incessant ‘whoosh’ of the wind sneaking past my ear, through my helmet, was all I could feel. I overtook the other vehicles effortlessly, making them look embarrassingly stationary and silently sneered at them as I zoomed past them. The road divider seemed to just stream past me like a ravaging river. The road was smooth, so was Bob. It made me doubt if we were really flying at one point of time. Every pedestrian seemed to grow from an inch to his/her actual height within seconds before becoming insingnificant. I was in total bliss.

I concentrated hard on the road, as this road had a reputation for taking plenty of lives and I didn’t want to add to the body count. The curves were dangerous and the maneuvers were complex, at 90kmph the slightest miscalculation or the slightest element of doubt during maneuvers could be fatal. I still managed to exceed my bike-riding skills by taking those curves without much fuss. Bob was great to ride and especially on the freeway he was a pleasure. He was reliable even though the roads were wet and was a delight when it came to riding comfort. Bob made my dream come true. Ever since my college days i had enviously eyed the fashion parade of bikes early in the morning when college started. I had promised myself that i would be a subject for envy one day with my bike. After finishing my 1st year at work i assured myself that i had enough finance to invest in a bike. Bajaj launched the new variant Pulsar with digital display, LED taillights, meaner looks and complimented by better performance. I knew that was exactly what i had been waiting for. His sleek body and tantalizing design had its own appeal and a red dragon shaped ‘S’ sticker on the hood gave him a seductive personality. He was worth every penny I spent on him. Maybe more. It took me less than a month to expertise riding the bike. Bob, zoomed into my life and changed my whole perception towards life. He had become something more than a bike for me, we had become inseparable friends. Ever since I bought him, we had always been complimenting each other. He made sure I got noticed and I reciprocated. The first time I mounted him I could have sworn that my bike whispered “I had been waiting for you.” My adventurous relationship with him started that very moment. I love Bob and he loves me back. Man and machine, best friends for life.

Going at top speed on the freeway on a macho bike, with picture perfect sceneries skirting the freeway, was always something I had dreamed about since childhood. As I sped along the freeway I noticed a police patrol car, decorated with prominent flickering blue lights on the roof, parked by the roadside at a distance. An immediate, deliberate transition took place. The speed came down to mid 50’s and my posture changed to that of an innocent looking rider who’s never been over 50 kmph in his life. The cops bought the act. As I had rightly anticipated they didn’t bother to pay much heed to me and focused on a speeding car behind me. It was probably breakfast time and they obviously needed a fat bribe. A speeding car would probably squeeze out enough fine to finance them breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner. As soon as we passed them I dropped my pretentious posture and got back to where I had left off, as I was quite confident that we had seen the last cops for miles to come, considering that it was a Monday. Cops rarely patrol the freeways during weekdays but their activity increases during the weekends to floor weekend drunk drivers and filthy rich arrogant brats on four wheelers or two wheelers.

I peeped curiously into the rear view mirror and smiled slyly as I saw the car being stopped by desperate cops with outstretched arms, barricading the road, much to the dismay of the dismayed car driver. Bob and I roared down the road and a scream of relief and delight escaped my throat “Yeeeeeeeehhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaah”.

Bob sped like a predator as if in pursuit of an imaginary prey. Black and mean, Bob, was like a cheetah with a ‘never say die’ attitude paralleled by a storehouse of demonic energy and of course with a voracious appetite for adventure. With him I felt like a superhuman. Bob and I merged into one unperceived entity. Man and machine, immortalized by unending thirst for thrill, adventure and adrenaline pumping action. We took a pit stop at the Kovalam beach lookout point. I parked my bike and decided a nice snap with Bob would not be a bad idea. One nice snap led to another and I ended up spending almost 15 minutes posing and snapping pics, more than a super model would for a men’s health magazine. Poor Krishna had to do the honors of taking my pics and im sure he lost his appetite at the end of the session.

We then shifted our attention to the speciality of that place, the beautiful, sparkling beach which was about a kilometer away. It was a picture that deserved a painting. The sand, gold in colour was romanced by the sky blue sea, which kissed the shore tenderly ever so often. A catamaran, witnessing this love duel, danced on the waves, while the fishermen on it struggled to pull in their catch. The sea was further decorated by few unperturbed ships, which seemed to form a necklace on the horizon. A flock of seagulls, with milk white wings, flew high in the air over the bay, with broken clouds leaking beams of sunlight through, framing the background as if completing nature’s attire. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes to visualize the spectacle before me. It was just impossible to recreate. It was too beautiful. The spellbinding beauty instantly vaporised the stress, which had accumulated over a period of months at work. My soul was cleansed, felt more like rebirth. I was lost in the moment. Totally lost. Is this how heaven is? Or is it better. If it were better, how beautiful would that be? However it was, am sure it would be blindingly beautiful. This was probably the first time I had made acquaintance with nature, and I didn’t want this moment to end anytime soon.

We captured the beauty as much as possible with my cam and left.The smell of wet mud accompanied us throughout our long journey. We were speeding against the wind so I found it a little uncomfortable to stretch beyond the 95kmph mark. The digital speedo creeped up to 98 kmph, when I decided to maintain the speed for the rest of the journey. I overtook a bus smoothly, but not before being covered with a fine spray of mud, straight off the wheels of the bus. Krish escaped the mud bath as he hid behind me, while I ended up getting a generous layer of mud on my face making me look more like a wretched character straight out of one of Stephen king’s novels. I should have felt stupid enough to stop and wipe my face clean but I continued unscathed. I felt a satisfaction sweep through me. The mud was all I required to make me a complete biker. The wind, the mud and my speeding bike completed the recipe for a complete bike ride. I switched on the wolf-eyed lamps, which glamorized Bob a bit. Made him look more radical, as well as attract the attention of the oncoming traffic. Bob and I loved attention. I remember counting every head glued with a mesmerized looking face, which turned along the road and on other vehicles that we overtook, during the journey.

We had a hair raising moment when a Qualis, that we overtook a short while back, rushed past us, missing us by barely a couple of inches. It was so close that it almost brushed Krish’s protruding knee by the side of the bike. Thankfully I held my nerve and held the bike steady, if not, it would have been RIP for Krish, Bob and I. I was horrified for a moment. It was as if I had seen death smile wickedly at me from ear to ear, in close up. I slowed down a bit to recollect my composure and then once I stabilized, I sped up again. Krish, who was aghast by the narrow escape, heaved a sigh of relief down the back of my neck. The road just reeled past us as though Bob was devouring it. The milestones seemed to be popping up ever so often. I barely noticed a sign, which said ‘Mahabalipuram - 10 km’. Its then that I decided to slow down Bob, as I didn’t want him to overheat his engine and lead to unpleasant complications that I suppose I wasn’t ready to deal with. We came down to 50kmph and maintained it till we reached a sign, which read “ WELCOME TO MAMALLAPURAM”. Destination reached.

Took us a little past 1 hour to reach there but that one-hour lasted a life time and my mind, body and soul amalgamated into a state of harmony and peace, which doesn’t happen that often for me. Am sorry I didn’t mention much about Krish because all he did was just stick to my back all through the journey and squeak an occasional irritating “ go slow da” only to find me going faster. Obviously Bob and I don’t know how to go slow. Eventually he got off the bike, after perhaps the ride of his life, with his hair spiked up and eyes blown dry and said “Dude…when do we do this again??”.“Hopefully very soon.” I replied with a tired smile. By far, this episode in my life had all been about the breeze, Bob and me.

Forgive thy blasphemy

For those, who deny the divine,
for those, blinded by theses of mortals,
feels sorry for you, this heart of mine,
hell beckons, thou shall relinquish heaven's portal.

For god gives you enough time, reform yourselves,
sight his clues of existence, his creations,
nature's intricate designs, death, worldly abberations,
all around you, inside you, in your very existence he dwells.

Thy words hurt him, makes his heart heavy,
thy influence makes others reconcile their trust
weak minds falter, feeding thy lust,
But i waver not. Instead, beg almighty, to forgive thy blasphemy

- hallaay