DRAFT TWO

*




Why am I here, says the silence, what have I done, echoes the emptiness, why have I ruined myself...

At first the Consul felt a queer relief. Now he realised he had been shot. He fell on one knee, then, with a groan, flat on his face in the grass. "Christ," he remarked, puzzled. "this is a dingy way to die."

A bell spoke out.

Dolente... dolore!

It was raining softly. Shapes hovered by him, holding his hand, perhapts still trying to pick his pockets, or to help, or merely curious. He could feel life slivering out of him like liver, ebbing into the tenderness of the grass. He was alone.
Malcolm Lowry.



Now was the time, those distant cries, those shapes far-off. He was turning away, but kept looking back, even now just the memory of smiles, the shapes of lost faces, distant. He couldn't be sure of what lay ahead. He kept looking back, seeking strength, guidance, courage. Grant me decency, grant me strength. But in these strange, twisted moments, the rivers of inspiration he had sought, the direct guidance, the imposition of will, the courage and the determination, none of it was easy to grasp, or understand.

How could they all be so clear, so determined, the mumbling hordes around him? Did they never think? Were they never besieged with doubt? Once vacant, twice shy, would they still be there for him, still protect him when needed, still rescue him from fatal accidents, still grant him long life span? They were almost Chinese in their inscrutability, but they had always been friendly to him. Nothing could be further from the truth, that they had deserted him. There was always something more to think of, more to be certain of, different roads to take.

The ground was settling after the passing of the ghost whales. He looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed. He daren't ask anyone, in case they dismissed him as mad. Could it be true that it was all in the mind's eye? The echo of his last sighting of the quaint little spirit family was still there; as if a fading image burnt on retina. Emotion jagged up through him, not just sadness and the overwhelming melancholy that dogged his days, but a lingering smile, almost amusement. They had been so charming, so odd, so protective of him, so discreet in their guidance, in the end so affectionate towards him.

It wouldn't be easy without them. They had been there for so long they had become a part of him, one of the reasons even strangers knew there was something different about him. I don't understand why you have to go, he said. And there wasn't any answer, because he knew it already. This world wasn't their world; and now, locked in its indulgent, brick coloured corruption, in its concrete planes and screaming excesses, he didn't know how he was going to survive. Are you really gone? he asked, but he knew that answer already, too.

The horizon settled out into a straight flatness. The ground settled into a flat plane. The air, or the space where there was meant to be air, became clear and cold. He was frightened. A tear streaked down his face, probably nothing more than self-pity, he thought, at the loss of his protectors. He was turning, he was facing the seething masses, he was facing a world of over-bright colours and screeching advertising hoardings, of an all pervading contempt for their fellow men.

He went back to the park where he now belonged. He didn't talk to anyone, he never did anymore. The bottle of sting, metholated spirits and orange juice mixed together, was where he left it and he drank deeply. The sky scrapers loomed around him, even the buildings where he used to work. He had been isolated before, but never more so than now. They had promised, he remembered, in meetings he had attended long ago, that there was another way out, that he didn't have to drink himself to death, that he could be like all those other vibrant, full-of-life creatures around him, living a full and concrete life, apparently happy.

It had never worked for him. He hadn't believed a word they said. The real world had never been his world. He had mixed with angels and with spirits, had been protected on his hazardous journeys of the soul, but now his physical form was little more than living wreckage; and he had to prepare for death. He drank again, deeply, as if nothing could ever be enough. His blood shot eyes were popping out of their sockets, surveying the scene, glaring at strangers, muttering to himself. He shouted inconsequentially and then fell to the ground in a heap. Wait, he shouted, wait, I'm coming with you. This is no place for a decent soul.

A Mission Beat man approached the strange old man, steeling himself against the smell. The old man's arms flailing as he shouted. This one had always been strange, but something was really bothering him to day. You alright Bill? he asked. They've gone, he said, they've gone, and burst into tears. The young man had no idea what to say. Was it time for the mental health crisis team, again? Who's gone, Bill? he asked. They've gone, they've gone, he repeated, my protectors, they've always been there for me, always, and now they're gone.




THE BIGGER STORY:

http://in.reuters.com/article/southAsiaNews/idINIndia-34167220080621

KABUL (Reuters) - Afghan security forces knew Taliban militants were planning an offensive near the southern city of Kandahar last week but were distracted by a mass prison break, a senior army officer said on Saturday.

The Taliban have seized the initiative around Kandahar in the past two weeks, freeing up to 400 comrades from the city jail, then occupying villages outside the town. Afghan and foreign troops have launched an offensive to drive them out.

The Taliban had been gathering in the outlying district of Khakrez, planning to move from there to Arghandab, an area of rich orchards just 20 km northwest of Kandahar city.

"We were planning to conduct an operation in Khakrez but unfortunately the incident that happened in the city changed all the programmes," Afghan army chief of operations Lieutenant General Shir Mohammad Karim told a news conference.

http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2008-06/21/content_8414243.htm

KABUL, June 21 (Xinhua) -- Afghan troops backed by NATO-led International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) in major operation against Taliban militants in the restive Arghandab district of southern Kandahar province have killed 94 insurgents, a senior military officer told newsmen at a press conference Saturday.

"We have counted 94 bodies of the insurgents in Arghandab where militants occupied last week to attack kandahar city," General Shir Mohammad Karimi, chief of operation of Afghan Defense Ministry, told newsmen at the last stage of the operation.

Majority of those killed in the operation were foreigners. However, he did not specify any country.

Hundreds of Taliban militants in a surprise move occupied several villages in Arghandab district 15 km northwest of kandahar city last weekend to threat the provincial capital.

Afghan forces backed by NATO launched an operation last Wednesday and evicted the militants from the district.

http://www.smh.com.au/news/world/taliban-flex-muscle-around-kandahar/2008/06/17/1213468422051.html

THE Taliban destroyed bridges and planted mines in villages outside Kandahar, the biggest city in southern Afghanistan, residents and officials said yesterday, after hundreds of fighters swarmed into the strategically important district in an apparent push for control and preparation for battle.

More than 700 families had fled the Arghandab district 15 kilometres north-west of Kandahar, said Sardar Mohammad, a police officer at a checkpoint on the Arghandab River. "Last night the people were afraid, and families on tractors, trucks and taxis fled the area. Small bridges inside the villages have been destroyed," he said.

In response to the Taliban's move, the Afghan Army yesterday flew four planeloads of soldiers from the capital, Kabul, to Kandahar. NATO's Canadian forces have also been redeployed in preparation for possible conflict.

Fleeing villagers said NATO troops had dropped leaflets by air warning people to leave the district.


This series of pictures of were taken at Radnwick Cemetery, Sydney, Australia.