Showing posts with label Purely Fictional. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Purely Fictional. Show all posts

Thursday, March 30, 2017

From Your Valentine-1


The month of February is the month of festivities, the time when birds find their mates and the Lupercal, the festival of the god of fertility. Yet for me, this is the month when I have experienced the optimum happiness in my life with a tinge of regret that I felt it when my days have become numbered. 


Tonight, it is very cold and even my bones can feel the chill this might. I don’t know what hour it is. But the little glimpse of sky that I view from my barred window, it looks dark blue with a glow. Looks like it must be three hours past midnight. 


Not that I was a reader of the skies but judging from the months of captivity and the hours when the watch changed in the tower, I think I have become adept at it. But there is something very special about this day as it might be the last one I might see. This day I go to face my death in the gallows before the huge crowd gathered for the Lupercalia this week. 


There are occasional shouts and celebrations that one can hear rising from the streets. Just like every year, this year too many young men will prove their valour in the competitions held before the emperor. The women will be showered with the ceremonial blood from the sacrifice of animals before the god of fertility near the caves of Romulus and Remus. 


Then, there will be the choosing of one’s bride from the urn of good fortune. Julia will also be chosen by some warrior or the other. Even the thought makes me angry as it brings to my mind a very unpleasant memory of having to tend for her for days on end and then having to leave her side on new orders from the Emperor.

Monday, March 27, 2017

From Your Valentine 4


One morning, I saw her playing in the courtyard with the young women of her age, wearing a crown of white lilies. Not that I would have payed much attention but her merry laughter caught my ears and distracted me from my thought. I was deep in thought for I had received new orders from my Abbot to watch my steps. I was worried because that meant I was not free to go anywhere and there were hints of imprisonment in his letter. I smiled looking at her because it felt special, that laughter and the feeling it aroused in me. 

At night, Asterius visited me with his two soldiers. Usually, he comes alone and I am treated like a guest in his castle. Then in a very solemn manner, he made me understand that the Emperor has requested him to detain me as a prisoner till the Lupercal, which means till the Ides of February. He also declared that under no circumstances was I allowed to meet anyone or use any of the special privileges that the Abbot had permitted. 

 I was led to a room near the castle gates that had barred windows and also a glimpse of the sky. There was no sunshine or laughter any longer but from the day I was put in the room, I began to receive flowers and letters from the young ones who wrote about their lovers and their hopes of getting married once the Declaration of the Emperor was cancelled. There were crowns of lilies that made me think of Julia every time I saw them. 

I think of writing a letter to Julia. Despite the sleepless nights, I don’t feel tired at all. The only thing that is before me is her lovely face. What I feel is that I met her so late in life, when in exile, when condemned to death. Though I try to read my books on medicine, it is next to impossible because of a longing to see her or to hear her voice. I have hardly known her but I feel a kind of soul connection when I think of her.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

From Your Valentine (2)














I wake up to the sounds of shouts in the street. It sounds like a huge crowd rushing and trembling. There are sounds of women everywhere. I wonder when my agony will be over before or after the festival. Today is the festival of Lupercalia, dedicated to the god of fertility. 


The women folk must be out in the streets, dressed in white for the ceremonial sprinkling of animal blood on their bodies. Julia might be there too waiting for her chance for her name to be picked by her prospective groom from the urn of good luck.

I could hear the prayers from the sacred caves breaking the silence of early morning. The chants were audible as they were repeated by the women folk everywhere, from the hills to the valleys for begetting children and for good crops this year. 


The huge doors are opened and I see Julia before me not Asterius or his soldiers. I am too dumbfounded for words. I’m surprised that in the midst of the festival, she has come to see me. Dressed in white, she looks more like a ghost than a real person. 


It takes me some time to ask her why she has not gone for the festival near the caves of Romulus and Remus, the founding fathers of the nation. She replies in a low voice: Everyone has gone for the festival and I have stolen the keys so that I could come and see you. You need to hurry because there is a horse ready for you. You can run away from here and from death. 


No, I cannot. I am a priest and I cannot break the trust that your father has showed on me, I mumble. She is not convinced and comes near me. Though it is quite dark in my prison cell, I can see her face and she looks pale. It takes me sometime to understand that she may not have recovered fully from the disease that almost took her life away. She holds on to my arm and caresses it with her long delicate fingers. 


Not any longer. You are not a priest any longer. You are freed through a royal order that might in fact gain you a death worse than that of a criminal. It is better that you run away for your life. As for my father, he might forgive you because you saved my life, because he sees you as a good man. You are to be executed in the morning without any blessings from a priest. There is no time to lose. 


That shocks me because I am still a priest though I might have disobeyed Claudius and his orders. There were many couples that I had married off disobeying the order of compulsory bachelorhood for all soldiers. I have seen the women cry when their men left for war. Nor was I fool not to read in Julia’s eyes, the same flash of love though I have never been with her. 


Suddenly, there is an alarm raised and I see that the prison guards are on their way back. I snatch Julia by the hand and we run as fast as we can through the empty corridors. She leads the way and by the time we reach where the place where the horse is tied, we can see crowds of people, all splattered with blood on their clothes and crops back from the festival of Lupercal. 

To be continued...

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