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Terra Woman (standard:Fan Fiction, 999 words) | |||
Author: Juggernaut | Added: Nov 01 2010 | Views/Reads: 2984/1948 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A graduate student attempts to write a calypso with inspiration from an unlikely sad character. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story “Your body is as firm as hardened Brasso clay.” “Your cheeks are red like Maracas red soil.” “Your hair is black and silky like wet Princes Town black clay.” “But relationship with you is like getting into Nariva swamp.” “Boy, that sounds good, I know you can do it if you put your mind to it,” “you named Trinidad soil types too in the lyrics” Mahabir looked surprised. “Yeah, is it not something, I came to do Ph.D., on soils of Trinidad and wrote a calypso on Trinidad soil types,” Juggernaut surprised himself for his lyrics. “Now, we have to name the calypso,” Mahabir lighted a Broadway. “Ummm, how about Terra Woman,” Juggernaut blurted out. “What is Terra?” “I believe Terra means earth,” Juggernaut was not sure. “It sounds good.” “Now we have to think about a fancy name for you as a Calypsonian.” Mahabir really getting into it. “You mean like Mighty Sparrow, Lord Kitchener, Lord Shorty, Shadow and others,” Juggernaut listed his favorite Calypsonians. “Yeah.” “How about Mighty Indian,” shouted Juggernaut? “Crazy Indian,” Mahabir corrected instantly. “Boy, I love that name,” Juggernaut started jumping up and down in the lab. “A calypso needs a catchy phrase at the end of each line for chorus.” “Listen to this,” Juggernaut started reading loud his calypso. Terra Woman By Crazy Indian “Your skin is as soft as Aripo fine sand, Terra Woman,” “Your body is as firm as hardened Brasso clay, Terra Woman,” “Your cheeks are red like Maracas red soil, Terra Woman,” “Your hair is black and silky like wet Princes Town black clay, Terra Woman,” “But relationship with you is like getting into Nariva swamp, Terra Woman,” “Terra Woman, is the catch phrase, I like it.” “Now, you cannot stand still and sing a calypso you know, you have to dance like this,” Mahabir showed his fancy foot work. “I can't sing, let alone dance.” “The dance routine for Calypsonians is not complicated.” “One step forward, one step backward, and a step sideways, then make a 360 degree roundabout on your heels with your arm stretched forward as if explaining something, that's about it,” born in Trinidad, Mahabir understood the routine good. In between conducting labs for undergrads and his own research work, Juggernaut practiced singing his calypso “Terra Woman,” dancing as if explaining to his students in the lab. Mahabir's work routine changed gradually, he came to work late and left early, sometimes skipping work altogether. When he came to work, he kept to himself and hardly dropped by Juggernaut, and never mentioned about calypso. Word got around that Mahabir's wife Premati ran away with a man to St. Joseph not even a year after marrying Mahabir. It was a devastating blow to Mahabir who fancied himself as a saga boy (lady's man). Mahabir's boss, a British expatriate scientist was very kind and gave time off to Mahabir to recover, but Mahabir got into heavy rum drinking and never recovered. Whenever he came to work, his eyes were red and looked tired either from heavy drinking or lack of sleep or both. Then he stopped coming to work for good. Everybody in the lab missed Mahabir and his stylish cigarette smoking and spontaneous jokes. Juggernaut was saddened to see his friend went down the tubes. In remembering Mahabir, Juggernaut once in a while sang his calypso “Terra Woman” dancing with his hand stretched and spinning on his heels, once fell almost knocking down the distillation set on the lab counter. That was the last time he danced singing calypso. Tweet
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