Its My Style - Hari Prasad

Out of Darkness

Away she goes from the shore to the sea. Those waters rushed back and forth every now and then, from the sea to the shore, creating a sizzling melody through the windy airs. Now the time is 30 minutes passed 12 on that dark, human less, cold windy night. Darkness prevailed predominantly on that edge of the sea. That cold coastal Shore seemed to be the place for any lone-lover to hang out. If u imagine eliminating the darkness from the scene it would have been a great natural vista even superior to your illusions.

Suddenly out of the black came a man gasping and panting. His desperation was obvious through his eyes. I believe eyes have got the incredible power to portray a man’s virtues despite scenarios. And those dark eyeballs of that strange Gaucha-like guy were as black as that beach. They were ferocious and valorous. He seemed like a gangster in his early 40’s who doesn’t even have an iota of fear. He was strong, wearing a white vest covered by a black blazer, a black striped trouser and again a black untidy pair of shoes. His face was pale with an uncombed brown hair. He looked very tired with minor wounds and injuries all over but his face was stubborn and showed no sign of fear. Literally speaking I even wonder this lad would have had his existence in a far different world where there is nothing called FEAR. Evidently he is having a pace reducing phase of a breathtaking run as to be more precise for u guys to guess, blood was splashed all through his attire.

The man lolloped through the beach slowly letting the shore waters to kiss his shoes. He looked invincible with a Taurus PT145 – pistol in his right hand, which also swayed because of the pretty loose grip. Gradually his pace reduced which consequently lead his kneels, toes, hands and the gun to feel the beach-sand’s chillness. He fell off on the ground 60% deliberately and the remaining out of weary. His stubborn face started to shrink and got changed for the first time since his advent into the scene. With enormous pain in his mind for the first time in his life he burst out with tears. “Harryyyyyyyy…………….”, a voice yodeled inside his head.

The man was sobbing continuously, very weird for his stature.
The yodel on his head was never seemed to be stopping.
He went back in time to correlate his thoughts with the yodel.
He remembered that deadly incident happened exactly 5 hours before. That’s where his beloved friend Mark Taylor was slaughtered brutally. The slayer being David Carleone’s family, the arch rivals of Durdens’ in the underworld of Spain. The quarrel between the two Don families was imminent any time since last week as the uncouth Carleones’ were envy of Durdens’ and they were on the look out for trouncing them, despite the peace talks to flex their nerves. As this man is the uncrowned sovereign of the entire Madrid city Dons for over a decade. He is the man of our tale too. Ladies and gentlemen,

The name is DURDEN…HE IS HARRY DURDEN.

Durden was weeping continuously as his thoughts
went through his four decades of life. Remember, every man has got his breaking point at some instant of his life and even Durden too is not an exception as now he is into that part.

The rise of this man extends from a little brat thrown out on the Madrid streets to the Spanish underworld GODFATHER. Durden replenished his life’s different phases through his mind. He remembered his early days, left out by his begetters with the days of hunger. His teen phase of getting along with Taylor and his father, the times of filthy-games with Taylor on city streets. Then it’s the rise of marauding mobsters, affair with Taylor’s sister Suzan, who later became his wife, advent of the Durdens’ family and reaching the throne –the power – finally phase of being THE GODFATHER itself. Durden’s life is an untold history.

Through all the phases of Durden’s life Taylor was there for him. Now he is no more. He felt to the core the pain of death.

He realized how heartbreaking it is to bid adieu once for all for someone with great affection and love like Taylor. Mark deserved every drop of tear that the man of our tale shed.

Durden sobbed like a little boy stamping his pistol persistently
on the sand as fast as he can as he had no other way of showing his anger. Durden was totally fed up. He reproached with all the killings and deaths through out his life time. For the first time in life he became conscious of the real value of a soul, as now his soul yearns for his friends’.

Durden realized how precious a life would be for their dear ones. The man of our tale is now maturing himself into a enigmatic phase of his life. As he cruised along the entire mystery that he had revealed so far in his life he found that it lacked the sole purpose. As Durden was stamping his pistol on the ground he deliberately let it free out of his hands’ grip. And away she goes from the shore to the sea washed along with the waters. Durden stopped crying finally as his face changed to his earlier version depicting his power and valor.

The Man of our tale started to walk out of the dark to explore the real GODFATHER in himself. Durden brushed aside his mind’s darkness as the Sun raised revealing the beauty of the world!

Harry Durden had the walk of his life!

The Man of our tale revived his style,

To carry on with his untold history,

Revealing his life’s wonderful mystery.

This tale of our Man, Harry Durden has not got any omega! This might sound obscure. But really its just an alpha for the real Godfather’s history!

And even now those waters never stopped. Away she goes from the shore to the sea.

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[all characters portrayed in this story were imaginary and any resemblance of any person all around the world is purely coincidence.]

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