jueves, 4 de junio de 2015

THE RHYME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

THE RIME... RYME... RHYME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER
OR,
HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE WATER SNAKES:
LONG STORY SHORT

Written for Uttam Paudel on the 4th of June 2015

(At the church door of a coastal village during a wedding, an old salt stops a young Uttam-like yet Britishly fair-skinned guest)
Wedding Guest: Let me pass! I'm the childhood friend of the bride!
Mariner: Uh-uh... Guess I have to tell you my story first, young chap!
Wedding Guest: As long as it's a short one...
Mariner: -no reply save throat-clearing-
(Kaboodles of verses later)
Wedding Guest (waking up after a tiresome, monotone recitation): Could you anyway give me a quick recap?
Mariner: All right... I was the captain of this ship, not long ago. We were in Antarctica, trapped among icebergs, and, with this crossbow of mine, guns are oh so mundane, I accidentally shot an albatross dead, which brings bad luck. (Gasps and pauses for air) Then this frigging storm brings us all the way to the doldrums. Guess we had just been jinxed. Not even a breeze. And the waters... After a fortnight, we ran out of drink. Worst thing that can happen to us sailors. We were thirsting to death, and no land could be seen. Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. So hot and so thirsty that we were forced to drink our own blood to survive...
Wedding Guest: Makes sense, since you were in the middle of the ocean.
Mariner: So we were all stuck in the doldrums, dying of thirst, and driven insane by dehydration and sunstroke and prolonged seclusion. And thus, the crew started a mutiny. And they forced me to wear the frigging dead and maggot-eaten and weather-beaten albatross like a locket, hanging on my chest by a rope around my neck.
Wedding Guest (ready to throw up): Ewwwww... (Vomit discretion shot)
Mariner: My crew was against me, furious, raving, and I was ninety percent sure that they would, sooner or later, make me walk the plank. But then... unexpectedly... a ship came in sight... A strange, glowing ship on which there seemed to be no one.
Wedding Guest (pale, shuddering): A g-g-g-g-g-GHOST SHIP???
Mariner: A ghost ship indeed. And on board was the Grim Reaper himself, playing a game of dice with a strangely pale lady on deck.
Wedding Guest (curious): And how did the game turn out?
Mariner: The Reaper won by a landslide, all the souls of my crew, while the strangely pale lady won only my poor soul. Mind that I was the captain, yet the most unpopular one on board. And, in her eyes, I saw who she was...
Wedding Guest: Who was the pale lady?
Mariner: A Fate Worse Than Death.
Wedding Guest (pale, shuddering): And what happened next? Did you suffer in any way?
Mariner: The ghost ship sailed off into the-Gods-know-where, and then, for the next seven days of that freaking stay in the doldrums, all my crewmates died of thirst and heatstroke. One by one by one by one by one by one by one. I was to throw them overboard, into the ocean... but then, I had an epiphany.
Wedding Guest: When you were all alone on board?
Mariner: When I was all alone on board, with no one to talk to but the underwater fauna. Green turtles, leatherbacks, bottlenose dolphins, blue whales, schools of shocking pink jellyfish... Especially the water snakes. A spring of love gushed from my heart, and I loved them unaware. And then, the half-decomposed albatross fell off my neck and overboard. And all of my crew resurrected. So they steered us out of the doldrums.
Wedding Guest: (stands agape, breathing in, not saying anything in response)
Mariner: Then I came back home, here to the British Isles. Though I was at first a little skeptical of whether my experiences were real: "Is this the hill? Is this the church? Is this my own country?" And it was. For I was stone cold sober, and wide awake, and fully hydrated, I guess, by the power of love.
Wedding Guest: How wonderful is the power of love!
Mariner (wincing): The story is not over yet. You see, my chap, a whirlpool swallowed up our good ship and all of my recently resurrected crew, leaving only yours truly. But luckily, a hermit ex machina and a pair of good lads pulled me on board their rowboat to take me back to terra firma, and they gave me a pair of oars. So I rowed with all my strength.
Wedding Guest: That rescue was quite unexpected.
Mariner: So the youngest boy on the boat called me a devil. Indirectly, but yes. Laughed like a manic hyena, and shouted: "The devil knows how to row!"
Wedding Guest: Now I can see you look a little red to me, and are those horns under your tricorn hat?
Mariner: Excuse me, I have an Earth to walk and countless other mortals to pester. (He disappears into the fog.)
(The church bells peal merrily, the doors open, and out walk the bride and groom with their whole entourage. The Wedding Guest hastens to join them.)

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