LOVE I wanted to be in love, but I didn't want to reveal my big secret. I twirled my finger in your hair as you rested your head no my naked chest. I had fornicated with many women since I was fifteen years old but never before was there anything besides raw sex. As you draped yourself upon me our skins kissing, I knew that I had fallen, and fallen hard. You brought calm and joy to my turbulent life, a life that you were only partially privy to. “Sukh, why are you so quiet?” You asked me the one time. “Just thinking about my life, that’s all.” I replied having very little to say at the time. “Aha, what about your life?” you persisted. “Why do you ladies always get so deep and philosophical after a good shag?” I motioned to kiss you but you clearly had no appreciation for my humor. I honestly had no idea why you got upset. “Other women! I didn’t expect you to be a virgin Sukh but you don’t have to remind me that I am just another number on your bed post.” You turned away pulling the sheets with you. You wrapped the Egyptian cotton sheets around your slender body and stormed out of the bedroom. You went to the bathroom and slammed the door. I came to the bathroom but you had locked the door. I remember saying “Lisa, come on baby, I didn’t mean anything. I was joking. Please let me in so we can make up under the hot shower. Besides it’s cold out here.” I stood there caressing the door in the hope that you were standing on the other side, able to feel my affection. All I received for my efforts was the sound of shower pouring down. I waited in the corridor for a few minutes in hope of an invitation into my bathroom but none came. Dejected I walked back to my room. A few months back and I would have been furious at you for your behaviour. A few months back nothing would have stopped me from breaking down the bathroom door and beating some sense into your stupid head, a few months ago I would have kicked you out onto the street with nothing but the smell of our time together. A few months ago I would never have imagined falling in love with you. Lisa, when I left that day I left behind many things that matter. I left behind my calm and joy, my house, all my possessions, but most of all I left you and a large number of unanswered questions. I’m sorry Lisa, I have been a down right prick to you and you don’t deserve that. I never answered your calls or returned your messages for the last three months. If I have hurt you I am terribly sorry. If it helps, the moment I walked out the door that day I started hurting. Ironic isn’t it that my name is Sukhraj, the king of happiness but all I seem to have done is cause hurt and pain to you and myself. I woke up this morning longing to be in your arms and realized that I had to fill in many of the blank spaces that I left in our short yet meaningful relationship. Let me start by answering the question that you have been asking since that morning of the argument, why I left. It had nothing to do with our argument. The only thing your tantrum did was give me time to think. Lisa, I have done a lot of things in my life that I am not proud of, things I wish I could change, but you knew all of this while we were together. You changed me. When I met you I began to respect life and people again. You gave me happiness and never asked why I did everything I did before we met. Thank you for that. I met you in October last year. I was angry and drunk out of my mind and you were shy and bored in that club on the corner of St Peter Road. When I collapsed on your lap at the club you didn’t slap me, nor did you get up and abandon me, you held my face and caressed it at which point you changed me. Six months prior to our meeting something happened which resulted in me being so angry and hateful. It is also the reason I left you that morning. Lisa I have terminal stomach cancer. It is a gift from my family. It was detected too late and other complications made any attempt at fighting it risky. I accepted it as a death sentence and lost all regard for life. Sleeping around and abusing others was my way of feeling alive for just a little while. When I met you I wanted to live again and bring love and happiness to somebody else, you offered me life. That night when you gave me your virginity, I didn’t run away because I got what I wanted but because I could not tell you about the cancer. For some stupid reason I thought that I had to hide it from you, I think it helped me to hide the reality from myself. When I looked at you all I saw was a future filled with joy and love. A future I knew I could not have and that is why I ran away because it hurt too much, being happy with you. I hope that you have moved on and found the love that you deserve. This letter comes to you now that I am dead as part of my wishes stipulated in my last will and testament. That which I kept secret can no longer be hidden. Thank you for giving me life. Eternal Love Sukh.

Om Sri Guru carana saroja raja nija man mukar sudhaar Baranau raghubar bimal yas do dayak phalacar Buddhi hin tanu jani ke sumirau pavan kumar Bal buddhi vidya dehu mohi harahu kales vicar Having cleansed the mirror of my mind with the dust of the lotus feet of Sri Gurudev, I now proceed to describe the untarnished Glory of Sri Rama which bestows the four fruit of human life, Dharma, Artha, Kama and Moksha. Realising the inadequacy of my intellect, I meditate upon You Hanumanji, grant me strength, intelligence and true knowledge, and renounce all my afflictions and blemishes. Om Namo Narayanaya Hanuman the Embodiement of Dasya Bhakt When we think of God, we often conjure up images of a mighty patriarch seated upon a throne enshrouded by fluffy white clouds. The renaissance artist Michelangelo painted God this way thus presenting us with a western model for God. The ancient Greek, Egyptian and Norse Gods were all depicted as strong, powerful beings to be feared and revered. Hinduism also has a large pantheon of various forms of God. Lord Brahma the creator, seated upon his Lotus presiding over Brahmalok, Sri Vishnu reclining upon Sheshnag in Vaikuntha, Maheshwar Shiva, meditating in Kailash. Name any aspect of the Hindu pantheon and you will find a grand Master or Mistress, strong, powerful and majestic. Yet there is one aspect of God that, despite His greatness, His extreme strength, wisdom and intellect is portrayed humbly kneeling before another aspect of God; Mahavir, Bajarangabali, Pavan Putra Hanuman. Despite all his greatness Hanumanji offers his entire being at the feet of Lord Rama. He exemplifies the ideal path of a devotee towards God. The Srimad Bhagavad Gita lists the various sacrifice or yogas that one should perform to reach God. Hanumanji is the ultimate yogi, Karma, Gyana, Bhakti he is perfect in all. Verses 32 and 33 of the Hanuman Chalisa read: “Rama rasayan tumhare pasa sada rahau raghupati ke dasa Tumhare bhajan Ram ko bhavai janam janam ke dukh bisaravai” The essence of devotion to Sri Ram is with You, Hanumanji; may you always be the servant of the Lord. Through devotion to you one obtains Sri Rama and the sorrows of life after life are culminated. May you always be the servant of the Lord. What an odd prayer but the reason is simple. Hanumnji is a friend to those who worship his beloved Lord Sri Rama. Vibishana, the brother of Ravana was rescued from Lanka and taken to Lord Rama because Hanumanji saw in him a great devotion to Lord Rama. Hanumaji delights in the glory of the Lord and those who worship the Lord sincerely spread forth that joy. Hanumanji protects the devotees of Sri Rama and carries them safely to the feet of the Lord and eternal Bliss. Dasya Bhakt refers to a servant devotee of God. The word servant has negative connotations if we were to analyse it in isolation. Servant conjures up images of domestic workers on their hands and knees cleaning the floors or washing windows and while there is no shame in doing such essential work it is not a desirable job or rather no one aspires to be a servant. This however is the result of our pride and egoism. Hanumanji was a servant of Sri Rama. His love and service was so immense that in the Hanuman Chalisa it states that Sri Rama declares that Hanuman is as dear to him as his own brother, the devout Bharath. Before we proceed, let us establish what certain words actually mean according to the English dictionary. A servant is a person employed to do domestic work in a household or as a personal attendant. A devoted follower or employee. Bhakt refers to a devotee; a devotee is a person who is devoted to something or an enthusiast. Devotion is a great love or loyalty, enthusiastic zeal or religious worships. Sri Hanumanji was the devoted attendant, follower and employee of Sri Rama. Hanumanji performed his every action as an offering to Sri Rama. In the Srimad Bhagavad Gita Chapter nine, verses 27 and 28, Lord Krishna proclaims: “Yat karoshi, yadashnasi, yaj juhoshi dadasi yath Yat tapasyasi kaunteya tat kurushva mad arpanam. Subhasubhaphalair evam mokshyase karmabandhanaih samnyasa yoga yuktatma vimukto mam upaisyasi” Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer in sacrifice, whatever you give away, whatever austerity you practice, do it as an offering to Me. Thus shall you be free from bondage of actions yielding good and bad results. Being free, and with your heart steadfast in the Yoga of renunciation, you shall come to Me. How beautiful is the synergy of the Great epics of Sanathan Dharma. The Mahabharat gives us the Srimad Bhagavad Gita which gives us the word of God, assuring us that the offering of all actions at His feet will result in bliss. This teaching is given in the Sri Ramcharitmanas through the example of the Hanumanji. When Sri Rama and his army got to the banks of the ocean, a hero was needed to cross the ocean and find Mother Sita, to see how she fared and to take word to her of Sri Rama’s approach. That hero was Hanumanji. To cross the ocean and overcome the numerous obstacles in his path Sri Hanuman invoked the name of Sri Rama. With his mind and heart on the task set before him by the Lord, Hanumanji overcame many distractions and obstacles along his path and reached the Asoka grove of Lanka where Mata Sita was held. Distressed as she was Mother Sita’s heart was lightened on hearing the tale and message delivered by Hanumanji. He assured Mother Sita that when Sri Rama arrived the demons will be destroyed. It is here that Hanumanji makes a statement that epitomises his devotion to Sri Rama. So great and powerful is Hanumaji but he is devoid of ego and arrogance, he follows only the wishes of Sri Sita Rama. He says to Mother Sita, ‘Mother I would take you to Him this very moment but I swear by Rama, I have no such orders from the Lord. When Sit a Mata questions the abilities of the monkey troop over the forces of Lanka. Hanumanji offers the following explanation: “Listen Mother; monkeys possess no great strength or intelligence either; but through the Lord’s might, the most tiny snake might swallow Garuda, the king of birds.” Sita Mata is pleased with this response and blesses Hanumanji. Moved by Her blessings Hanumanji prostrates to the Mother. He then declares that he is hungry but will only eat the fruit of the trees in the Asoka grove if Mother Sita allows him to. The mother knowing Hanumanjis devotion to her Lord replied, “Go my Son, and enjoy the luscious fruit with your heart fixed on Sri Rama’s feet. “ When Sri Hanumanji burnt down Lanka he returned to Sri Rama with word of Mother Sita’s well-being. Sri Rama was overjoyed and responded that he will never be able to repay the debt to Hanumanji. As Hanumanji listened to Sri Rama’s words he was filled with joy, but he prostrated to the Lord and cried, “Save me, save me from the tentacles of egoism my Lord.” Sri Rama asked Hanumanji how he was able to burn down the mighty city of Lanka. Hanumaji replied: “Nothing is unattainable, my Lord, to him who enjoys Your grace. Through Your might a mere shred of cotton can surely burn a submarine fire the impossible can be made possible. Therefore, be pleased, my Lord to grant me unceasing Devotion, which is a source of Supreme Bliss” Hanumanjis’s devotion to Sri Rama is expressed through many episodes. On returning to Ayodhya, Hanumanji stayed with Sri Rama and Mother Sita following them devotedly. Sri Hanuman was so devoted to Sri Rama that even at his core there existed only Sri Rama. One of my favourite stories associated with Hanumanji, is that of the pearl necklace. On returning to the kingdom of Ayodhya, amidst a grand coronation celebration, Mother Sita gifted Hanumanji a string of pearls. Hanumanji although a monkey in appearance was immensely wise and spiritual. He proceeded to bite each pearl and then discard it. When his actions were questioned, Hanumanji answered that he was searching for Sri Sita Rama within the pearls for without Sri Sita Rama the pearls were worthless and of no use to Him. When his respect and devotion to Sri Sita Ram was questioned, Hanumanji ripped open his chest and there seated in his heart was the divine couple Sri Sita Ram. Thus we see that Sri Hanuman had immersed his entire existence in devotion to Sri Sita Rama. On one occasion Sri Rama and Sita Mata were entering the palace and Hanumanji was about to follow, Sri Rama stopped him and said that he was not allowed. Hanumanji then questioned why Mother Sita was allowed into the palace but not him. In an attempt to find and answer Sri Rama pointed to the sindoor on Sita Mata’s head. “This,” he said, “entitles Sita to enter with me.” That was an acceptable answer for Hanumanji but only temporarily. In an attempt to prove his immense devotion to Sri Rama, the following day Hanuman covered his body in sindoor and waited for Sri Rama at the palace entrance. Understanding the actions of Hanumanji, Sri Rama acknowledged the supreme intellect of Hanumanji and allowed him to enter the palace. It is for this reason that Hanumaji is often depicted as being completely red. “lala deha lali lase, aru dhari lala langur, vajra deha danava dalana, jai jai jai kapi sur.” Red is your body, red is your radiance and red your massive tail. Your body is like the thunderbolt which brings destruction to the demons. Hail, hail, hail,O Heroic Kapi! There is no doubt that Hanumanji was/is a Great bhakt. The question that arises though is; Was Hanumji the bhakt of Sri Ram exclusively? This was the question that Sri Rama and Sita Mata once pondered over. Sri Rama declared that Hanuman was his devotee alone. “How did you deduce that,” asked Sita Mata, “for surely he is my devotee exclusively. The divine pair debated this point before deciding to ask Hanumanji to answer the question. When Hanumanji arrived he dutifully began to massage the feet of Sri Rama with one hand and the feet of Sita Mata with the other hand. Sri Rama asked, “Hanuman, whose devotee are you, are you not mine exclusively?” The same question was posed by Mother Sita. Hanumanji being the repository of knowledge and wisdom sensed the game at hand and replied that he is neither the exclusive devotee of Sri Rama nor of Sita Mata. Sri Rama asked for an explanation for how could Hanumanji then serve them so devotedly if His loyalties lay elsewhere. Hanumanji laughed, “I am not exclusively Ram’s devotee or exclusively Sita’s devotee. I am and will always remain Sita Rama’s devotee!” Sri Rama and Sita were delighted. Sri Sita Rama is one aspect of the same Supreme entity, two sides of the same coin, Shiva Shakti, the masculine and the feminine aspect of the Supreme. Hanumanji, a monkey, a seemingly lesser life form to human beings was able to achieve and overcome great trials and obstacles by offering everything at the feet of the Lord. We must learn to do the same, so that through faith, devotion and love of God we may overcome our trials and obstacles and reach God. Swami Vivekananada said: You have now to make the character of Mahavira your ideal. See how at the command of Ramachandra he crossed the ocean. He had no care for life or death! He was a perfect master of his senses and wonderfully sagacious (showing insight or wisdom). You have now to build your life on his great ideal of personal service. Through that, all the other ideals will gradually manifest in life. Obedience to Guru without questioning, and strict observance of Brahmacharya - this is the secret of success. As on the one hand Hanuman represents the ideal of service, so on the other he represents leonine courage, striking the whole world with awe. He has not the least hesitation in sacrificing his life for the good of Rama. Only the carrying out of Shri Rama's best is the one vow of this life! such whole-hearted devotion is wanted. May we learn from the example of Hanumaji and humbly offer our lives in service to Lord.

HOME COOKED MEAL

Food is an essential aspect of human existence. The joy of it lies in it's flavour rather than the sustenance. We can dine at the finest restaurants and eat with friends and families, meals which they lovingly prepare but there is a certain gratification that comes from labouring over the stove with the aroma of blended spices and the sizzles and splutters that emanate from the pots and pans. The sense of achievement as you fill your plate with your freshly created meal that steams its invitation to your senses. You poise yourself at the table, say grace and take the first mouthful. The food, tongue and teeth dance together arousing the taste buds and bombarding the brain with messages and memories. The mouthful is swallowed and you are left with the satisfaction that you are able to cook but with the disappointment that it is not as good as your mother's cooking. I have come to a conclusion though. A mother's cooking is always best and this is not to say that others cannot cook but merely that a mother's cooking is just more special. While we cook with the desire for a good taste and the hope to emulate the abilities of our mothers we will always fall short. A mother cooks like everyone else save one ingredient, love. A mother cooks not to impress, not for glory not for experimentation nor for shear sustenance. A Mother cooks with love to feed the heart and souls of her family and with every loving stir of the pot and every spice whispered into the mix she infuses her love. That is why a mother's cooking is always best. Ah for the day I eat once more from my mother's hand.

crappiest part of driving

I have only had my driving license for a year and four months. I am really happy to be driving but there are a few little things that I miss. When I was a wandering man, I used to read while walking to and from work or whilst on a bus. Now for those of you who understand driving you know that this is no easy task whilst operating a vehicle. Having bid farewell to days of long walks and bus rides I find that i also lost my companions i.e. my books and sadly I must declare that it has been ages since I have completed a novel.

Captain America: The First Avenger

I am a fairly large comic book fan. With Marvel be at the top of my list. I have never been much of a fan for the Captain America comic though, perhaps it has something to do with his patriotic theme which seems to distance him as a likeable character. When I learn that a movie was in production for Captain America I was not extremely excited but I like many others had to watch the film purely because of its tag line. "The First of the Avengers". Now I have had mixed feelings about the other Avenger films that have preceded this one. Iron-man (both of them) were brilliant with the effescts and had a decent cast but the misplaced wit and poor story did little to capture my interest. Thor on the otherhand was brilliant. Spider-man (all of them) were epic fails. whilst on the topic of Spider-man will this Marvel Giant be present in the Avenger Film to be released in 2012? Hulk was a total failure, even the acting talents of Edward Norton seemed to plumet with the green Giant.
Getting backto Captain America. The funniest part of the whole film was when Agent Smith manifested as General/captain/maniac Shmidt aka Red-Skull. The rest of the movie seemed void of any real wit but plenty of cheese and bad acting. Not even the effects were good enough to make this film worth the while. Am I dissappointed no, a crappy comic book 'Hero' has translated into a crappy movie, it was expected.

My Shadow

I walk away. The residual blood drips onto the floor. The sound echoes through the empty hallway. I strip as a walk to the bathroom. I hold the knife till I step into the shower. I masturbate as the water dilutes the blood on my hands and washes it to a pool at my feet. Showers have a way of clearing the mind. The steam opens the lungs, opens the pores and has the ability to make every muscle in your body come alive.
I wipe myself down on my way to the kitchen. I usually don’t drink red wine unless I am entertaining guests but the Pinotage seems to go well with the blood seeping into the sheepskin rug. I empty the bottle, put on some clothes and leave for a walk on the beach. It is a glorious, peaceful day.
I don’t stay on the beach. I am not in the mood to drive there either. I walk for a good solid hour from my home in the city centre to the beach. The lives of strangers seem fascinating, every person playing their role. Smiles, tears, faith, anger, desperation, all etched on the faces I pass. A destitute woman comes up to me begging. I notice a little child no more than two sitting by a street pole. I am tempted to ask, “Will you blow me for fifty bucks?”
Instead I look at her kid and offer her my wallet. She looks confused. I carry on walking. I hear her mumbling something about me being cruel and mocking her. My outstretched arm holds the wallet behind me for a while before I let it drop to the floor. The thought of being able to help the poor helpless kid makes me happy. The child’s parents however should be killed. Why bring life into this world when all you can gift it is misery and hardship?
The sand looks soft, golden and inviting. I remove my leather slip-ons, pull of my socks and allow my feet to sink into the grains. The salt of the sea fills my nostrils. Whispers of the sea-spray beckon me to venture closer, to embrace the blue expanse.
As wet manifests upon my clothes I realise that I am dressed in a three piece suit. I wade deeper into the sea. My face is wet. It is not the sea but my own tears. I cry yet am unaware of the act. I stand there surrounded by water, pouring water out from within, washing myself, cleansing myself inside and out. I am in a state of ecstasy. I feel free. This will be over soon. Like any bad dream I will wake soon and sigh with relief at the unreality of it all and make love to my wife to connect to reality.
I shut my eyes, hoping that when I opened them again I will be home in bed, my family around me. After countless contractions of my eyelids it dawned upon me, “from this nightmare there is no peace in being awake”. I sink to my knees. The waves push my head under water. My body lacks the will to fight it. Why am I alive? It will not be long before the questions begin. Who killed them? What was the motive? Why was I left alive? Did I kill my family? Was anything taken? Why did I not contact the police and the paramedics?
Will people understand? Will they accept my answers? Will they believe me when I tell them that by the time I got into my house my wife and kids were already dead? I walked into my bedroom to discover a pale corpse that resembled my wife, naked on the bed. Evidence of the abuse she endured visible on her soft skin. My kids were in their beds, like I leave them at nights after I tuck them in. When everything is lost what need is there to fight. The bullets and blood stains however made this image unique. Will people believe that I was stupid enough to pick up the discarded blade that lay on the floor beneath my wife’s slit throat and failed to sever the blood vessels beneath the skin of my wrists? Not there to protect them to weak to join them now. Will enquirers believe that I noticed nothing of the possessions in my house? That I still do not accept that it is real? This is a thriller which I am watching on my own in 3D. I ask myself these questions for I know that they will come, but the answers and the response to them is insignificant. I have lost everything in my life.
Vengeance is selfish and to what end? Hunt down the demons who ripped away my life, see them punished and then what mellow in the bitter emptiness that remains. When one removes all the joy - all the colour and intricate, merry decorations, all the love and details that give meaning, then what is left? In photography and art when everything is removed and replaced by black a silhouette is created. In life when the light is behind you and nothing but emptiness ahead, all that is visible is a dark shadow, my shadow. I have been robbed of all joy, love, colour, expression and emotion, my shadow is all that is left of my life.
My shadow is all I have been left with and with the setting of the sun it too shall leave me and if my prayer be answered it will not return tomorrow.

Hello People. It has been a while but I shall try to be more regular with my posts.
This is something I wrote that I quite enjoyed and decided to share.

A Night at the Mardi Gras
The bright masks and costumes, fireworks and fire-dancers, music and dance -
a whole celebration went on outside as Sophia kneeled before the altar.

“My Lord, our Saviour, I pray for them. Forgive them their ignorance.
They have closed their hearts and minds to the true meaning of this day.”

“And what would that be ... Sister?” Every word that was voiced reverberated
with a sinister tone.

The blind nun turned her head from side to side so as to determine where the
voice came from. She stood grasping her rosary in her white-knuckled hands.

“I am sorry brother but how did you get in?”

“Through the front door Sister, like everyone else wishing to kneel before the
Lord.” The voice was closer now and Sophie felt the hair on her skin stand on
ends. “But the outer gates were locked. I am the only person with a key to the gate.”

Sophie tried to remain calm still moving her head from side to side to gauge the
position of her unexpected and unwelcomed guest. Her blindness handicapping her
she stood pinned before the altar.

“Ah Sister, you are a lady of the cloth, you know that there are things that
defy logic and science and just happen. Miracles, is that not what you call
them?"

The intruding man stood behind Sophie. His breath warm against her ear as he
whispered. Sophie’s heartbeat quickened and for the first time in her Forty-one years she
knew what it meant to be sexually aroused.

“Stop this! Who are you and what do you want here? And how did you get
in?” Sophie battled with the words, her body and mind in conflict with each
other.

“Don’t be afraid Sophie I am not here to harm you. But rather for love.”

“I love only one man Sir and that is my Lord Jesus Christ.”

“My dear Sister I am afraid you are confused. I am not here to love you but
rather to love him.”

“That still does not explain who you are and what you are doing here?”

“Oh Sister. You are more than familiar with me. You have invoked my name as
blame for all that you and your kind do that is evil. Though many don’t
understand I was his greatest gift to you.” The man’s voice echoed in the large
church. Even in the echo an immense sorrow could be heard. “I was sacrificed
for you.”

Sophie stared blindly in the direction of the voice. “Who are you? Who do you
love, what sacrifices?”

“Please Sister I frightened you at first and for that I am sorry, old habits die
hard. I have played the role so long that I often forget to get out of character.
I am sorry for disturbing your prayer on this night of feasting but I wish to
sing for my Lord.”

“Brother it is late but seeing as you are already here and feel so strongly
about this I cannot object.”

The man began to sing and though she knew not the language he used Sophie was
moved to tears. Her every molecule seemed to rejoice in the beauty of the song
and her blind eyes beheld a magnificent light. The earth began to shake and
torrents of rain accompanied lightning and thunder and the rest of the world
fell dead silent.

With the end of the singing a definite longing was heard in the voice of the
singer and then all else was normal .

“Thank you.”

“Brother you are gifted, the Lord has blessed you immensely.” Sophie spoke to
the emptiness around her. Brother please tell me who are you?”

“I am your crutch, your scape goat, the magnetic north of all pointed fingers. I
was his favourite, I was his sacrifice I am the first of the Fallen, I was once
his musician but you have called me Devil, The Dark prince. You have called me
Lucifer. I am everything that you call evil. “

Sophie was horrified and raised the crucifix of her rosary as if to hold the
devil at bay.”How dare you enter the house of God you vile creature? “

“Come Sister there is no need for abuse. I am just here to honour my Lord.”

“How dare you..” Sophie was stopped by a finger on her lips.
“The stories that have been told to you are lies. I did not fall from Grace, I
never challenged the Father. I never lost his favour. I was chosen. For the
Lord knew, even when he created you, that you needed me more than you do him and
though few will admit it I am an important part of your lives. Without me who
would humanity blame for every cruel and evil deed done. I am the fall guy and
every instant I suffer in His name for your benefit.”

“Away with you Devil! You are not welcome here! You are the Prince of lies. A
cruel and evil manipulator.” Sophie moved to the holy water that stood on the
nearby dais.Her movement brought laughter to the Dark Prince.

“Please Sister, I pray, shower me with the blessed water of the Lord. I welcome such anointment
for then maybe you will believe me.”

Sophie stopped dead in her tracks, her mind ridddled with doubt.

“I am sorry to have disturbed your prayer Sister, that was not my intention.
By the Lords will I must remain hidden and so must befriend the shadows and
darkness. But the Lord is great for he has blinded you and given me a companion
this night. Come Sister, it is Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, a night to feast.
Tomorrow lent begins and we shall honour our Beloved by fasting. Come Sister I
shall arrange a feast for us if you will dine with me.”

“Enough Satan. I will not trust you. I will not break bread with you. Whatever
you conjour from the deapths of hell is not befitting this night nor any other.
Begone you filthy spreader of evil.”

“Pity! The Lord in his Grace gave you free will but still you follow like sheep
that which you have been taught by power mongers.”
There was a change in his voice. The sorrow was gone. In its place anger
manifested.

“I however have learnt much from humans and for that may my Lord forgive me.”
A gust of wind passed Sophie before strong hands grasped her head and shoulder.
With a swift push her head was manipulated towards her left shoulder. She
shrieked in agony and fear.

“You will never see me as more then the lies that have been created.
If a Monster is what you want a Monster you shall get.”
The Dark Prince lifted his head to the heavens, “Father I am tired of loving you
from afar, for too long have I taken their abuse. Your Love Father is all I ever
wanted. I offer this act to You, My Lord. See Your child truly fall for Your
Love. In the name of the Father, the Son and The Holy Ghost Amen.”
A tear fell from the Dark Prince’s eye and fell onto the exposed neck of Sophie.
That was the last gentle caress she experienced before teeth ripped through her
flesh and her blood stained the habit and churh she held so dear.

As blood stained feet left the church the last of the revelers left the street
festivities. The feast was over repentance had begun.