Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

Celestial Timepiece

First published in Epoch, Fall 1966. Included in Prize Stories: O Henry Award Winners (1968), and The Best American Short Stories (1967).


Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

By Joyce Carol Oates

for Bob Dylan

Her name was Connie. She was fifteen and she had a quick, nervous giggling habit of craning her neck to glance into mirrors or checking other people’s faces to make sure her own was all right. Her mother, who noticed everything and knew everything and who hadn’t much reason any longer to look at her…

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Letter from Paris

ONOMATOPEE

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By KATY MASUGA

Salut au monde! As expected this time of year and this time of evening and this place in the world, the sky is an incredible ivory blue and, yes, the clouds themselves are a luminescent pink strung across the vast yet controlled open space, encapsulated on the edges by centuries– and even millennia-old neighborhoods, like cotton candy pulled between sticky fingers or even just stretched cotton itself, in the way that it floats whimsically atop fields drifting with the breeze falling and rising and leaving parts of its body behind, spreading itself interminably among the numerous dark, dry stems and burnt, crackling leaves.

The cylindrical chimneys, the skeletal antennae, the angular edges to the Haussmannian grey roofs draw a sharp, silhouetted periphery that naturally evokes so many past incantations of this provincial city, in film, in photography, in art and literature, in imagination. It has been 100…

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Scent of … Sea

EPOCHE' (fotoblog di francesco)

Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains; another, a moonlit beach; a third, a family dinner of pot roast and sweet potatoes during a myrtle-mad August in a Midwestern town. Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years.

Nulla è più memorabile di un odore. Un profumo può essere inatteso, momentaneo e fuggevole, tuttavia può evocare un’estate della nostra infanzia presso un lago tra le montagne; un altro, una spiaggia al chiaro di luna; un terzo, un pranzo in famiglia con arrosto e patate dolci durante un pazzo agosto in una città del Midwest. Gli odori esplodono dolcemente nella nostra memoria come struggenti mine terrestri nascoste sotto la massa cespugliosa degli anni.

A Natural History of the Senses – Diane Ackerman

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AN ARABIAN TALE

Short fiction

Chapter-1

This was the third stationing of the attaché after he got into their external service. His option of the service was more impelled by his enthusiasm to see the culture and locations and survey the civilizations of the people. From his childhood, his folks instilled in him the value of the universe an as one big household, and people, men and women, in spite of their tongues and variance in airs and colours and dogmata are his brothers and sisters in altered costumes. His father was the first to articulate this truth, and later his mentors, especially the teachers in his school who presented him weekly tasks on this topic, prepared him to discern this as a certainty. Now he became a little maudlin thinking about those visionary mortals, who most all, left this rondure. It has been more than a decade that his father left him and he had to travel for two days unceasingly to see the lifeless man, as his posting was quite far-off from his native town. When his mother expired, he was absolutely down but his father’s presence took away much of the gloominess. But when his father departed, it was not like that. He felt panicky for the first time in his life. He felt alone as the major pillar and backer in all his catastrophe, the most understanding character in his life, with whom no ceremony is required to converse, is no more. With his father, he was fully at ease. When they were together, they did not talk much[ his mother was a chatterbox, but a well-meaning one ]. But his father was different. There was no communication gap between he and his father. When he asked for dough, the beloved sire gave him the wallet. He did not uncover any of the private correspondence that came from girls[ his sweethearts were all from his family, distant cousins, and very scattered relatives]. Instead, he described impersonally– You have a line, from so and so. The girls doodled their signatures on the reverse side of the dispatch. Because all his connections were unblemished and he was a straight youth, the girls narrated to him all their enigmas and they knew that he would not report it to anybody.
But now his father is not existing to see him raised up in the cherished service and watch his postings and snapshots in various stations.
The flight was behind by three hours when he arrived at the capital. This was the place he saw on the big screen with his friends in the thatched theatre, two kilometres from his house. Then he was  working in the public works department .He stayed there for many years. Because it was his mother’s bidding that he sojourn with her till his nuptial, and when he got the first employment in his hometown, and later went for higher education in the city, his mother got him signed blank papers and did all the correspondence to the higher authorities to get his leave endorsed. A long sabbatical on the loss of salary, and she succeeded in her industry. And when he came back to his hometown. after higher studies, his old berth was waiting for him. It was a most relaxing job, with few communications and practically no responsibilities. In the free time, he would read books and when the office is over by 5 pm, his old mates would be waiting for him. And he would walk with them to the fort area and further to the ground where public gatherings are held and then return home by 9 pm on the bus.This was a time he started meditations in eastern thought and had a lot of problems, in spiritual and physical areas. For six months, he could not eat solid food, because he became so fixated on his involuntary functions. But, by the guidance of a good physician, he got out of that. The advice was so simple ..Don’t see food when you eat. Instead, read something while eating…He had not seen his old doctor for years. This was the absent-minded chap who would drive the automobile without closing the back door. A smile came to his lips recalling that.
Finally, when the flight reached the capital, he was relieved. The burning sun and the desert khamsin was already having a sway on his body and spirit. He grasped that the country is nonidentical to the image that he got from the cinemas.

THE GLASS COFFIN

 

-A Free version from Grimm’s Tales-

[“The Glass Coffin” is a German fairy tale collected by the Brothers Grimm, tale number 163]

THE STORY
A poor tailor can also do extraordinary things and win honours. He ought to go to the correct workshop and have good luck. A common, competent tailor’s apprentice once went out voyaging and came into a pleasing woods, and he lost the way. Night fell, and he was to look for a bed in this difficult retreat. He could have discovered a proper bed on the delicate greenery, yet the terror of wild brutes forbade him rest. Finally, he was compelled to spend the night on a tree. He found a giant oak, climbed up to its end point, and praised God that he had his goose with him, for generally the breeze which blew crazy of the tree would have diverted him.
After he had spent a few hours in the haziness, perhaps with dread he saw at a short separation, an inviting display of light, and as he assumed that a house of a human may be there. This would be better than on the branches, he thought and got down and went towards the light. It guided him to a little shelter that was woven together of reeds. He knocked and the entryway opened, and by the light which approached he saw a little old man who wore a coat made of bits of shaded stuff. “Who are you? what do you need?” asked the man. “I am a poor tailor,” he replied, “whom night has shocked in the wild, and I beseech you to let me into your home until morning.” “Go your direction,” answered the old man in a surly voice, “; Look for yourself an asylum somewhere else.” After these words, he was going to slip into his hovel once more, yet the tailor held him strongly by the edge of his tunic and argued so miserably. The old man, not all that bad as he wished to show up, finally let him into the cottage. He gave the guest something to eat and afterwards indicated out him a decent bed in a nook.
The exhausted dressmaker rested comfortably till morning, yet he had been aroused by an awesome commotion. A rough stubble of shouting and thundering swept through the thin dividers of the hovel. The tailor, brimming with fearlessness, bounced up, put his garments on, and rushed out. Near to the shack, he saw an incredible dark bull and an amazing stag, which were just getting ready for a pitiless battle. They attacked each other with such outrageous anger that the ground rocked with their trampling, and the air resonated with their cries. For quite a while, it was dubious who would win, but finally, the stag pushed his horns into his enemy’s body, whereupon the bull tumbled to the earth with a staggering thunder.
The tailor, who had viewed the battle with amazement, was all the while remaining there noiseless when the stag in full vigour bounded up to him, and before he could get away, he captured the stag up on his unusual horns. He had very little time to gather his considerations, for it went into a quick race over ridges and notches, wood and knoll. He held with the two hands to the horns and surrendered himself to his destiny. . Finally, the stag ceased before a mass of shake, and delicately let the tailor down. The tailor, more dead than alive, required a more drawn out time to begin to act normally again. When he recouped, the stag, which had stayed with him, pushed its horns with such vigour against an entryway which was in the stone, that it sprang open. Blazes of discharge shot forward, after which an extraordinary smog emanated, which concealed the stag. The tailor did not grasp what to do, or where to turn, to escape this wilderness and go back to the people.

While he was standing uncertain, a voice sprang out of the stone, which tweeted to him, “Enter without fear, no malevolence will befall thee.” He wavered, yet determined by a secretive power, he complied with the voice and approached the iron-entryway into a vast extensive passage, whose roof, dividers and floor were made of shimmering rectilinear gems, on every one of which were sliced letters which were secret to him. He glanced at everything with relish when he again heard the voice which told him, “Venture on the stone which lies amidst the antechamber, and unimaginably beneficial luck anticipates you.”
His audacity had developed considerably that he obeyed. The boulders started to give route under his pads and descended progressively down into the profundities. When the ground was firm, the tailor viewed around. Here, nonetheless, there was more to take a gander at and to appreciate. Hollow spots were cut in the dividers, in which stood receptacles of dainty glass which were stuffed in a shaded material with a faint cerulean vapour. On the basement of the corridor, two incredible glass chests remained inverse to each other, which energized his enthusiasm. When he advanced to one of them, he saw in it a great looking edifice similar to a palace encompassed by structures, stables and outbuildings, and other fabulous creations. Everything was meticulously executed by an adroit hand with crown magnificence.
Then a voice made itself heard. It entreated him to turn round and take a look at the glass cabinet which stood inverse. How his profound respect expanded when he saw in that a lady of the greatest glory! She reclined as though snoozing, and was enveloped by her long gorgeous hair as in a precious mantle. Her eyes were firmly closed, yet the splendour of her vision and a lace which her breathing moved forward and backwards, left the impression that she was alive. The dressmaker was looking at the wonderful spectacle with a pulsating heart when she all of a sudden opened her eyes and began up at seeing him in cheerful fear. “Just Heaven!” cried she, “my deliverance is close by!
Snappy, speedy, enable me to out of my jail; if thou pushes back the electrical discharge glass pine box, at that point I will be free.” The tailor obeyed immediately, and she instantly raised up the glass top, turned out and rushed into the side of the corridor, where she secured herself with an extensive shroud. At that point, she settled herself on a stone, requested the young gentleman to go to her, and after she had kissed him on his lips, she stated, “My long-awaited deliverer, kind Heaven has guided thee to me, and put an end to my distresses. On the same day when they close, will thy blessings start. Thou art the husband chosen for me by Heaven, and shalt pass thy life in unbroken joy, loved by me, and rich to overflowing in every earthly possession. Seat thyself, and listen to the story of my life:
“I am the daughter of a rich count. My parents died when I was still in my tender youth and recommended me in their last will to my elder brother, by whom I was brought up. We loved each other so ardently and were so alike in our way of thinking and our inclinations, that we both embraced the resolution never to marry but to stay together to the end of our lives. In our house there was no lack of company; neighbours and friends visited us often, and we showed the greatest hospitality to everyone. So it came to pass one evening that a stranger came riding to our castle, and, under the pretext of not being able to get on to the next place, begged for shelter for the night. We granted his request with ready courtesy, and he entertained us in the most agreeable manner during supper by conversation intermingled with stories.

My brother liked the stranger so much that he entreated him to spent a few more days with us, to which, after some wavering, he consented. We didn’t leave the table until late in the night, Then the visitor retired to his room, and I rushed, as I was exhausted, to my tender bed. Scarcely had I napped for a short period when the racket of spectacular measure awoke me. As I couldn’t weigh from whence it arose, I expected to summon my house supervisor who rested in the neighbouring room, nevertheless, I found that my talk was brought down by a sinister power. I felt as if a mountain were over-burdening my ribs, and was not capable of uttering the littlest noise. Meanwhile, by the light of my bedtime-lantern, I saw the stranger access my room through two passages which were snappy impacted. He came to me and expressed, that by magic articulations which were at his charge, he had made the astonishing music sound in order to confuse me and that he at present broke all fastenings with the objective of offering me his hand and heart. My loathing to his spells was so sharp, that I vouchsafed him no answer. He paused for a while without stirring, obviously idling for a crucial verdict, yet as I was silent, he resentfully reported he would vindicate himself and feign designs to censure my pride, and left the room. I spent the night in the best disquietude and just collapsed asleep till morning. When I got up, I hurried for my brother, yet did not encounter him in his chamber, and the escorts reported to me that he had ridden forward with the stranger by first daylight.

“I promptly conjectured no good thing. I dressed speedily, asked for my palfrey to be saddled, and joined by a single employee, rode the full run to the boondocks. The help meanwhile, fell with his horse, and couldn’t accompany me, for the steed had broken its frog and hoof. I looked for my way without halting, and in the blink of an eye, I detected, the stranger reaching towards me with a strange stag which he drove by a line. I asked him where he had left my brother, and how he had got this stag, out of whose striking eyes I saw tears spilling. As opposed to taking note of me, he broke into uproarious laughter. I fell into an odd outrage at this, pulled out a firearm and discharged it at the brute; yet the shell bobbed once more from his chest and went into my steed’s head. I tumbled to the soil, and the stranger mumbled a couple of oaths which barred me from easy discernment.

“When I woke up again, I discovered myself in this isolated cave inside a glass coffin. The sorcerer emerged once again, and said he had turned my brother into a stag, my citadel with all that belonged to it lessened in size by his craft, he had closed up in the other glass cabinet all my people, who further were transformed into a fog, imprisoned in glass vials. He informed me that if I would now agree with his wishes, it was quite easy for him to put everything back in its earlier status, as he had nothing to do but crack the containers, and everything would revert once again to its original station. I answered him as little as I had done the initial time. He disappeared and left me in my jail, in which a long slumber overpowered me. In the fantasies which passed before my orbs, that was the most reassuring in which a young man arrived and anchored me free, and when I reopened my eyes this very day, I saw thee and saw my vision accomplished. Help me to achieve the other things which appeared in those fantasies. The first is that we hoist the glass chest in which my castle is confined, on to that wide boulder.”
When the stone was loaded, it started to ascend on high with the dame and the young fellow and scaled through the opening of the roof into the upper lobby. From there they could without much of a stretch, reach the outside. Here the lady opened the lid, and it was superb to see how the stronghold, the houses, and the homestead structures which were encased, extended themselves and developed to their regular size with the best pace. After this, the lady and the tailor came back to the grotto underneath the earth and had the vessels which were topped with smoke take away from the stone. The lady had barely opened the containers when the blue smoke hurried out and changed itself into living men, in whom she perceived her aides and her kin. Her happiness was further expanded when her brother, who had killed the conjurer as the bull, left the timberland towards them in his human shape, and on the same day, the lady, as per her word, gave her hand at the sacred place to the fortunate dressmaker.
…………………………………….
References-
1- The original folk & fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm: the complete first edition. Grimm, Wilhelm, 1786-1859, Grimm, Jacob, 1785-1863,, Zipes, Jack, 1937-, Dezsö, Andrea, Princeton [New Jersey]. ISBN 9780691160597. OCLC 879662315.
2-Several versions of the Original story
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THE OLD MAYOR IN OILSKIN

Bha athair Mhàrtainn air a ‘bhàta fad iomadh bliadhna. agus choisinn e mòran beairteas anns a ‘ghnìomhachas sin. agus cuideachd a ‘faighinn cothrom gu cladaichean agus dùthchannan eadar-dhealaichte agus ionnsachadh an cànan agus an cleachdaidhean. sa chumantas bha e math agus glè chofhurtail agus nuair a leig e dheth a dhreuchd gu baile a ‘phuirt agus a’ dèanamh taigh mòr san àite sin, bha e coltach gu robh mòran de a chàirdean fuireach còmhla ris no ri thaobh. bha aon co-ogha taobh athar athar ceangailte ris gu h-àraidh agus cha robh e ach beagan bhliadhnaichean nas sine dha agus ged a bha iad a ‘sgrùdadh bailtean mì-chofhurtail, bhiodh iad a’ coinneachadh ris gach saor-làithean, nuair a bhios na sgoiltean dùinte airson saor-làithean samhraidh sa Ghiblean agus sa Chèitean…………..Cha do cheangail athair an inbhe beairteach aige agus bha tasgadh aige ann an companaidhean agus stoc agus cha robh e na chall-chasach agus gun robh dòighean spartach aige agus biadh bòidheach bhathas a ‘taghadh an aodaich aige don t-seòrsa coinneamh a bha e an làthair, oir tha daoine mar as trice gam breitheamh le aodach agus seach gur e sealladh lèirsinneach a th ‘ann agus nach eil feum ach air beagan dhiogan airson a’ bhreitheamh a thoirt seachad. Cha do rinn e aodach a rèir shuidheachaidhean, nach èisdeas daoine ri do fhaclan, rinn e argamaid, agus bidh mi a ‘faicinn nach urrainn dhut a dhol dhan sgoil leis an èideadh agad , thuirt e. Agus ghabh athair Mhàrtainn grèim air na h-aithrisean sòisealta sin uile. Ghabh e champagne no fìon dearg uaireannan a ‘cruinneachadh na coimhearsnachd, ged nach b’ e an duilgheadas a bh ‘ann. Air sgàth a bheairteas agus an nàdur bu mhotha, bha e na thagraiche airson dreuchd ceannard a ‘bhaile ann an iomadh ràith agus bhuannaich e cha mhòr a h-uile taghadh. Bha cuid de dhaoine, gu dearbh, a ‘còrdadh ris, agus bha cuid de dh’òigridh ga mheas mar a ghabh e iomairt ann am pròiseactan òigridh agus foghlam àrd-ìre agus às dèidh sin a’ faighinn obraichean dhaibh. B ‘ann tro a bhuaidh a bh’ ann aon uair, dh’fhosgail companaidh riaghaltas stàite a phrìomh fhactaraidh sa bhaile sin a ‘faighinn raon de thalamh saor a dh’ fhàs an companaidh nas fhaide air adhart. A bharrachd air a ‘cheathramh airson luchd-obrach, thàinig e gu bhith ann, agus às dèidh sin bha sgoil rèile fhathast, agus na b’ fhaide air adhart, ged nach do stad na trèanaichean fada, stad an stèisean seo airson trèanaichean bathair agus cuid de thrèanaichean luchd-siubhail a bha glè gu slaodach gu ceàrnaidhean fo-thalamh, air falbh bhon phrìomh loidhne, chuir stad bathair an trèana an àite gu ìre eile agus thàinig e gu bhith na shreath eile de dhraibhearan làraidh eadar-nàiseanta, biadh ann am prìsean measgaichte agus taighean-fuirich cuideachd…………Dha na h-uile sin, b ‘e athair Mhàrtainn am prìomh adhbhar agus bha daoine a’ toirt spèis dha airson sin. càileachd eile de athair a bha eòlach air a h-uile crann agus oisean a ‘bhaile nach robh gu math mòr ach gu robh e eòlach air a h-uile rud. mar eisimpleir cia mheud sreathan airson an t-ìomhaigh ìomhaigh agus na clachan a thathas a ‘cleachdadh dha agus cò an ailtire a th’ ann. Cuideachd, ainm a ‘ghilleagach a bhios a’ cadal ann an ràithean na tuiltean fon chrann-mhòr aige a dh ‘fhaodadh a bhith an aghaidh frasan, eòlach air athair, agus dè an t-ainm a bh’ air a ‘bhreugach, a bha cuideachd eòlach air. Cha robh draoidheachd sam bith ann. tha an seann chailleach air bruidhinn ris an duine sin ann an dòigh chàirdeil agus bha e eòlach air mar dhuine. agus cuideachd dè an seòrsa flùraichean is lusan a tha air gach taobh den rathad, bha e eòlach. Agus bha fios aige air a ‘bhaile air fad le cridhe, a’ mhòr-chuid de na daoine a bha a ‘fuireach agus na teaghlaichean aca agus fhuair e cuireadh airson obair, gu cunbhalach agus air sgàth dìth ùine, cha deach e gu na h-uile…………..Ach chaidh atharrachadh mòr a dhèanamh mu dheireadh a dhreuchd, fear eile. nas òige dha ann an aois, ach bha beairteas na e a ‘strì an aghaidh e agus a’ buannachadh nan taghaidhean, agus thàinig e gu bhith na maor ùr. Chuir e tòrr airgead airson propaganda, agus tha e coltach gu robh e cuideachd na dhuine caoimhneil, ann an dòigh, ach ann an stoidhle eadar-dhealaichte agus bhuannaich e na taghaidhean. thug seo mòran ùine an-asgaidh dha athair Mhàrtainn na sheann aois, oir chan fheum e a dhol an sàs ann am pàipear trang agus obair an àrd-mhara. fhathast, bha e air bòrd comhairleachaidh na comataidh, ach cha tug an seann mhara seachad a bhotan. air a ‘mhadainn le seachd, chithear e a’ coiseachd ri taobh abhainn bheag a ‘bhanca a bha a’ dol seachad air a ‘bhaile aig dà chrann-rathaid air na cruthan-tìre nàdarra agus air a shlighe. Choisich e na oilscinn, cleachd a fhuair e bho làithean nan soithichean. Dh’fhaighnich e mu dheidhinn math nan daoine a bha mun cuairt agus cuideachd a ‘leaghadh cuid de fhlùraichean agus a’ giùlan feadhainn a bha a ‘tuiteam anns a’ phoca aige, a bha uaireigin a ‘fuireach air a ghualainn. bha am baile gu h-àraidh air a chuairteachadh le raointean paddy, agus b ‘e camadh am prìomh àiteachas agus b’ fheàrr leis an t-seann mhaighstir coiseachd leis an rathad tana eadar dà achadh. Gu dearbh, tha feum agad air mòran cothromachaidh gus coiseachd gu luath air na slighean lùbach seo, eadar raointean gadaidh, oir chan eil an leud dìreach cois no dhà. Ann an eagal, thàinig cuideigin bhon taobh thall, feumaidh fear a stad agus leigeil leis an neach eile a dhol
thairis ort gun a bhith a ‘toirt buaidh air do bhodhaig. Cha robh cead aig a ‘chrodh a dhol a-steach, mar a bha aig an doras, agus sheas fàgail an fhrith-rathaid dà phìos fiodh cumanta, is dòcha meuran de chraobhan. Chaidh a shuidheachadh ann an dòigh a dh’ fhaodadh duine a dhol a-steach le bhith a ‘togail a’ chas suas, ach chan e an crodh ….

—–[From a work of FICTION in progress]

MARTIN’S STORY

The tale of September months that I began to write in October and continued in November appeared an entertaining one to my aunt when she was helping me to recoup in a street accident. Perhaps I may expound on the mischance at some point later, yet the real fall of the year which kept me far from some of my significant obligations and diversions happened to be the event or condition for my further falls. I am Martin. Give me a prospect to show myself in a convivial if not the formal way. I am six feet and one inch tall and has bruised eyes since my dad is an Asian descendant. When he remained in Europe for a musical drama assignment, he fell in love with my mother and lived there for whatever remains of his life just before the most recent year, when he went to Cologne for treatment of his terrible liver. At last, he surrendered to liver growth. He was fifty-eight when he died….
Before his decease, he made two dwellings, one in London and the other in Delhi suburbs and he sometimes went to India, and he rented the estate to a few negotiators, and received the fabulous lease for properties were his obsession. You can backpedal for he gained this veneration for relentless resources and I found subsequently from different sources-I met one of his companions, however, this kindred was not close…[ a considerable measure of his lifestyle follows]. In actuality, I needed to discover more about him through his dear kinships yet these individuals were either dead or went too far away places. His dear companion was of innovative propensities, and he once additionally had a place with a nearby gathering of lascivious, however, individuals who took after some belief system of adoration, where they had behaved uninhibitedly, flouting usual social norms sharing their assets and they all disseminated in time, some went to spirituality,some moved toward becoming craftsmen and some others had callings of instructing or other businesses. I disclosed to you before that my mom may have been an individual from that gathering when he met him out of the blue. My mother was a writer who composed free verses, and she appreciated the poems of Sylvia Plath and composed a little, however fervent sonnets and she composed and a ton of five line poems , which they call limerick, with significance in a ridiculous frame, here and there extremely unobtrusive about her life and her encounters. She had tremendous rendezvous with individuals, a portion of the high positioning ones, and she was sometimes not exceptionally at ease, thinking about some enthusiastic disappointments or absence of alteration, and my dad was in way envious to an excess of possessive for her adoration, while she in any event in some period of her life was free winged animal, and however she later capitulated to society’s standards and settled for mediocre standards and was a principal of a young lady’s college in Calcutta and later passed on after writing two books, one her collection of limericks and the other a treatise on young lady’s education, and she believed that society was excessively crossed to the idea of the development of the female psyche, and this in way made them less strong yet more productive and creative in inconspicuous ways, and numerous have contributed inside the dividers of the family, some who revolted, at last, lived away from plain view, some in families an as decent moms and grandmas and so on.. My mother,I am not sure might have met my dad in an earlier phase.. But in the event that one can trust the some of the old letters I recovered from my dad’s steel trunk after his passing and before he gave me a precious ring as a legacy which he got from his own father as the primary male individual from his age in the house, which I pawned in the market of Hyderabad, yet couldn’t recover as I had no cash to get it, and after the notice of the pawnbroker, he sold it to some person and I never went to that territory after that…….

2
Martin’s ancestors had a place with the gathering of Portuguese mariners who went to the Indian drift for exchange and they remained in a waterfront town habitually while heading off to the places where they grew up of Lisbon, Oporto (Porto), Vila Nova de Gaia and Amadora, At last in serene periods when the wars were over a little band of Portuguese mariners remained in the Indian shore, some wedded the nearby ladies and some had European spouses from their places and a small vendor and angling group ascended in that town and eventually they raised a church for venerating and some took the final gasp in the Indian soil. What’s more, Martin belonged to the forward or fifth generation of that cruising assemblage which had in until stages associated with their original homes. Martin’s father acquired an enthusiasm for cruising pontoons, forest rides, his own particular sailboats and log watercrafts with his companions and went to the ocean, the kid’s dauntlessness and the interest for profound waters was remarkable from an early age and at school, he was known as a swimmer of outstanding talent and was incorporated into the varsity group that won awards. After he turned into a man he went to Europe regularly as he got an arrangement in the vessel that carried freight from the African and European coasts. The company selected more proficient mariners who were all around qualified and the subtitle of the ship was not particularly enamoured with him as he spent much energy in the transit lobby and night bars, to alleviate the pressure of the ocean. His close relative was especially partial to him, and once his uncle brought a proposition from his variety of relatives, yet his mom emphatically objected. She was, it appears to be especially intrigued by his going home and wedding there……

3
Now and again, she attempted to measure the family trees and the curious associations of race and shading, however, without much success, to respect a couple of unintentional disclosures. These coincidental revelations were talked about finally over the family table and the talk fixated on the possibility of going to Lisbon by and by. So Martin’s father Alfonso went to Lisbon and stayed there adversary a year. Alfonso stayed in Mafra for about a year. He came across tombstones, chantries, tombs, specie, cases, ceramics and glass from the Roman era and found his original house near the old Roman road connecting Sintra and Peniche, which crosses Mafra, intersecting the Cheleiros, Mafra, and Ericeira. He also found a distant cousin of him and later, both carried a long correspondence for fourteen years till the death of the latter. He was also present at the funeral….
This was especially before his arrangement in the transportation foundation and when he berthed the position on the ship he was tremendously exhilarated that he could pay for his supper without throwing his daddy who was an advocate of self-reliance. The sire .however, not cunning, but was very calculative in even lesser concerns and would not part with a penny pointless and this was to the girl of his significant other, Gaby who preferred the Wednesday flea markets and the legume shops. Be that as it may, Martin’s dad did not hold these side effects of his granddad and was tolerant and liberal to a decent degree. ….

4
He for some time went to his father when he was remaining in Lisbon simply the time of my mom’s separation. He was a decent person, a liberal person, yet by one means or another he couldn’t endure the autonomous ways of my mother who got pleasure by engaging visitors so frequently and had numerous tastes other than those of father, which she jumps at the chance to share, for some time she was occupied with the shooting of a film in France and that time was near another shadow. Someone from the film team and they together took numerous voyages. I don’t know exactly the kind of proclivity the mutual, perhaps it was just an innocent sort of friendship,but my dad who was very adamant in his ways and did not need anyone to overshadow him, particularly in his own family and this brought about a succession of squabbles between the two and on several events they smashed the significant glass pieces, they purchased together, some mementos of their prior association and none were in a position to budge, and after all what is marriage, I in some cases brood over that institution, regularly when I have much time far from work, a ton of alterations, for affection, numerous bargains and forfeits and now and again forgetting one’s own aspirations in life, just for the purpose of adoration, and on the off chance that that does not transpire… This was the situation of both my dad and my mother and they were obliged to pay a great deal for that while they isolated forever and the ones who endured most was my oldest sister and me.
5
My oldest sister had in the meantime met a mountain climber companion who was in an approach to overcome Kanchenjunga in a gathering and alongside my senior sister I was likewise selected for that. But our interest shifted to a lower range-Hardeol.
[note-Hardeol also called as Temple of God is one of the major mountain peaks of the Kumaon Himalaya located at the northern side of Sanctuary and guarding the Nanda Devi. The 7,151 m (23,461 ft) highest Hardeol peak is situated in the Milam valley of Pithoragarh district in Uttarakhand. Hardeol peak lies very next to another Himalayan mountain peak called Tirsuli. HARDEOL reaches on the fringe of Chamoli and Pithoragarh districts on a pointedly cut vertical rock body growing from around 4420 m to reach its peak at 7150 m. It rested without a title until some 30 years back and was referred to as the south peak of Tirsuli. Locals in the Johar plain designate it Hardoli or Hardol and revere it as their supervising mountain deity.]…We got the aid, of Sherpas. We practised in hills and lower ranges to get confidence. then the practice became rigorous with steep mountainsides, and six months preparing for an organization. My future brother by marriage had climbed a couple of piles of lesser statures prior and was on a route acclimatized to the climate changes in the pinnacles, and the sudden changes in situations and furthermore the gear. I was a fresher and I had a companion with me who was from an indistinguishable town from myself and we arranged that on the off chance that it was not working in a sheltered way we will pull back from a lower post. It happened that way. When I was in the post no.- – I was grasped by unreliable emotions, a lot of tiredness as it was my first endeavor other than the little slopes I moved in the childhood years in the South, yet it was not to a mountaineer, but rather to see the magnificence of the Nilgiris, and the tea gardens and the spectacle of rain that fall all of a sudden on these provinces. I told my mate that I was pulling back from the endeavor, since I visualised my future in another style, and this was a wrong choice and perhaps I could be of administration to some halfway house in some other piece of the globe and serve the poor kids, with some affection which they lacked throughout everyday life, due to the conditions of their exceptional birth.and. In addition, the night prior to my withdrawal from the climb, a peculiar disclosure, came to me that I did not have the pioneer’s enthusiasm for such vanquishing and mine was a senseless ego trip and on the off chance that I fizzled I was not going to pick up anything profoundly, and for me it all of a sudden appeared to create the impression that life was the same in the statures and the plain fields and maybe I could be more upbeat in the fields with simple individuals whose lives are not tormented by aspirations of this sort. I told my companion of my internal ruminations, and he was additionally in a much comparative space and we both pulled back from the climb. After that, I had not climbed any mountains…
6
Yet, life for me was very little upbeat over the span of that period. My sister, in any case, discovered peace and bliss in a wedlock of her decision, however, not me as satisfaction and peace dodged me and it appeared to be perpetually as in that year my folks were isolated and I was appended to both, a sort of an emissary amongst them, and they were very sad for my destiny yet couldn’t maintain a strategic distance from everything. It was all outside their ability to understand how the emotional life vacillates throughout everyday life, and words, when they had gone from some individual’s mouth, has such a gigantic power, to the point that can influence connections forever. God might see the intention behind each activity, however stupid man sees just activities, and can’t precisely observe the aims of the practitioner and flops pitiably throughout everyday life, either by being duped or by not recognizing the other’s guiltless mind or by being too smart in interpretation. Typically, I ended up downcast and abandoned, and in my endeavour to discover love went straight into a low organization of young men and young ladies, who gave me what I needed, joy, the momentary bliss with a considerable measure of freedom without values and tastes. I turned into an addict to explicit medications and certain patterns of practices. These were the circumstance that I reached the haven of the prior depiction where people of my sort of aberration stayed…

….[From a work of FICTION in progress]

 

 

 

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