Posted on: April 11, 2011. Comments ( 3 )

Author: Prabhukrishna M, Content Creator/Chief Editor, Yokibu Editorial

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Life, which is a travel in its own meaning, happens on the Roads to Destiny, sketched on the Map of Time. However, there are certain episodes in Life in which one feels on top of the world.

There are certain episodes in Travel that really take you there.

Those places where Time and Nature cross swords.

She would be forever like this.




In short, in awe.

Places held in her a special place. She loved to wander at times when the rest of the world was in sweet slumber. She went to bed from eight to two. She was out in the streets from two to three. She up and about no later than the rising sun. She was a regular at the local evening gym. Yathumagi, a nocturnal young woman for whom nights held subtle secrets and places held a charm as old as Time. Yathu hated the modern city for it was like a textbook, of pages with mere logic. “The Hands of Time have ripped off the arcane pages. What remains is plain mundane”, she often said. She lived in a timeless world of castles and lakes and ancient temples and underground caves.

Yathu was a young woman—twenty-one, a child at heart, whacking fit, ambitious—who wasn’t just a floating plank. She had to excel in everything she believed in.

The few ‘everything’ in which she believed in.

She would make sure to secure a place for herself among the top five academic rankings of her school right from Standard One through Standard Twelve. She had secured an overall district ranking in both Standards Ten and Twelve with a subject-wise State Rank in Standard Twelve Biology. She had come fourth, third and second respectively.

She was a pro in karate, swimming, skating and was a regular at a nearby golf club. On golf, someone who loved mockery had asked Yathu, “Golf Yathu? Do you know what golf stands for ?”

Raising an eyebrow, Yathu had said, “You tell me.”

“Gentlemen Only. Ladies Forbidden, G-O-L-F”, the guy told her.

She had replied, straight into his eyes, “Never tell me what a lady is forbidden to do.”

While Yathumagi had been waiting at a bus-stop once, a boy, about her same age, had brushed her abusively before foot-boarding a rapidly departing bus. She had given him chase on board another bus closely tailing the one that had just left, waiting till they would be locked in the same rush hour traffic. Once locked, she had jumped down from her chase, jogged up to her target and had found the boy with his friends, now teasing a young college girl who was pleading with him to let her board the bus. Yathumagi had savagely dragged the boy out of his footboard perch and had him punished, amidst waiting traffic, in a fashion involving a rapid series of punches—there was no room for her long-limbed kicks—thrown at the hapless guy, cracking three of his right ribs. Right with her first punch, Yathumagi had made sure none his friends would make the wrong move. The guy wheezed and doubled over in pain with each rib-cracking blow, now too weak to run. However his eyes were still mad and that was a bad sign. After a brief pause, however, his lower  jaw broke with a sickening crack, finally softening him. During that pause, Yathumagi had waited for the guy’s lower jaw to come loose. Once it did, a hook hit to the open jaw had done the job. Jaws such as this, vulnerable to punches, was known among boxing circles as a glass jaw. Immediately, the guy turned animated with uncontrollably jerky movements, his eyes rolling in their sockets—any trauma to the base of the skull will do that to you.

As the traffic began to pull out, Yathumagi had dragged him out of the road and onto the pavement, where he fell, crawling through the crowds, half-dazed, amidst scurrying pedestrians. Wasting no time, she had pulled him to his feet and leaning him against a fence by the road, she drove her knee hard into his gut. Stepping back, she watched him fall weakly to his knees in bug-eyed agony and cough up a mouthful of blood, mumbling in pain through his broken jaw. Then, wrapping her strong bony fingers around his neck, she had jerked him upwards—and before he could fall down again—let fly with a punch to the face, sending him toppling over and beyond the fence where she finally left him wreathing in the dirt, broken and bleeding.

Later, following a phone call clearly stating things, the local police took the boy under custody. On seeing what the young woman had done to the boy, the bewildered policemen had arranged for his immediate medical attention, suspecting a punctured lung. One of the policemen present had recognized Yathumagi. He immediately informed the circle inspector that this young woman and their Commissioner  were golf-mates and regulars at the local golf club and that the Commissioner openly appreciated the way the young woman played golf. After a brief conversation, Yathumagi was left to walk away, lightly.

Strangely however, a few weeks after this incident, a huge change came within her. She would sit daily contemplating thus, “I had no right to have brought such suffering to someone. The Commissioner of Police might have a hundred friends but that does not mean they can get away with anything; legal or illegal. Just or unjust.”

Another day, “I took so much pride at being a match to any man but now I feel that pride has stolen the beauty of my womanhood.”

Yet another day, “I have so many admirers among women and even more among men but I wonder if any of them will accept me as a friend. People are fascinated watching a snake slither or hunt but none of them are going to take it home as a pet.”

These thoughts slowly sank into her senses. She came to realize that inside her spirit, lay a sensitive woman who could charm everyone around her presence. She stopped her karate classes and concentrated more on physical fitness, swimming and yoga. She learnt to cook and found that it gave her certain joy. However, even after this sea change, Yathumagi’s love for arcane places was still very much alive. One night she dreamt that she was swimming down the mysterious depths of a sacred lake searching for a lost city. She dreamt of floating away to a faraway place where the nature she loved would bring her some peace of mind.

And, she was gripped by a new interest.

I want to learn deep-sea diving.

Time began ticking positively and five weeks after her convocation, as a treat for emerging the Best Outgoing Student of her university, her parents were sending her to Sao Paulo, Brazil.

I’m going to learn deep-sea diving.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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