Story Is Story

By Carlene Lindeque

Story is Story: Kalinka’s Story. This is the story of a woman’s journey towards greater enlightenment and personal fulfillment as a human being, a wife, and a mother. Married to an abominable husband, Kalinka loses her two youngsters to a plane crash. But she believes they survived, and with the help of a friend, arranges a visa so she can go to India to search for them. It’s a colorful tale, and readers will become delightfully absorbed with the larger than life, quite extraordinary Beings.

As the saying goes, “Kalinka had plans for India, India had plans for her”.

“The screenplay adaptation of Story is Story presents aspects of Eastern thought and spirituality seldom seen in Western films and mixes reality, dream, and spiritual experience in a lyrical blend that was a joy to read.” Gordy Hoffman www.bluecatscreenplay.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carlene Lindeque
• Release date: Jul 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005605742

Carlene Lindeque

The storyteller, in my mind, has no realities. Fundamentally, she too is an ever-changing energy who lives on the edge of reality with in a dream within a dream.As an author and screenwriter, I am the protagonis in the real life stories and the memoirs I tell, and therefor wish to extend my heartfelt gratitude to those who appear out of the blue to become characters in my novels, short stories, and screenplays. Namaste, I bow to the Divine you that is also me.Wishing you light, love , joy, and laughter. Carlene

Book preview

Story is Story.

Kalinka’s Story

Carlene Lindeque

Copyright © 2020 Carlene Lindeque

Published by Carlene Lindeque Publishing at Smashwords

First edition 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.

The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.

Published by Carlene Lindeque using Reach Publishers’ services,

Cape Town, South Africa

[phone]

[e-mail]

Edited by Peta Lee for Reach Publishers

Cover designed by Reach Publishers

P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

Website: www.reachpublishers.co.za

E-mail: [e-mail]

Contents

Chapter 1. Symphonic Sketches

Chapter 2. The Full Moon was in Cancer

Chapter 3. The Road to India was in her Head

Chapter 4. The Woman Who Went Away

Chapter 5. Kalinka met WoManji on her own Imaginary Sentinel Island.

Chapter 6. Their Airplane went missing

Chapter 7. Kalinka joined The Tribe on her own Imaginary Sentinel Island.

Chapter 8. Get-Away Car No.1

Chapter 9. An Astounding World of Colour, Spices and Noise

Chapter 10. Do You Know Who You Are?

Chapter 11. Kalinka returned to her own Imaginary Sentinel Island as Pure As Animal Awareness

Chapter 12. Whatever You Decide to Do, Don’t Not Run Away!

Chapter 13. Kalinka returned to her own Imaginary Sentinel Island

Chapter 14. Laughter is goo-O-O-O-ood medicine

Chapter 15. Life only gave what Kalinka needed and not what she asked for

Chapter 16. Ten days later…

Chapter 17. Kalinka returned to her own Imaginary Sentinel Island to be offered to their gods

Chapter 18. Was that a Blessing or did she Curse me?

Chapter 19. Kalinka returned to her own Imaginary Sentinel Island where The Universe once again became her Mother

Chapter 20. Entering and leaving the Void

Chapter 21. The axe EXecution

Chapter 22. You had plans for India…India had plans for you

Chapter 23. Is there really such an enticing word in the dictionary?

Chapter 24. Back to the future many Times over

Chapter 25. To be with you in a Palace in France

Chapter 26. They came to say: C u when eye C u!

Chapter 27. Infinite Beings. Infinite Love

DEDICATION

"In your light I learn how to love.

In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest, where

no one sees you, but sometimes I do,

and that sight becomes this art…"

RUMI

To my exquisite and beautiful Daughters;

I bow to the Divine in you.

Chapter 1

Symphonic Sketches

The end, Luke said. He finished his reading and closed the old, hardcover book he’d brought from his collection. Looking up, he openly admired how the late afternoon sun touched Kalinka’s reddish-brown hair that flowed like water, long and straight down her back. Just as the sun, I’ll warm you and light you up, Kalinka, if only you’ll let me, he whispered.

The garden cottage smelt of incense sticks that fragrantly burned to release their smoke in leisurely curls up into the empty space above the wooden incense burners that held them. The late afternoon sun reflected its rays in rainbow colours through the only stained-glass window of the garden cottage. The recording of the evocative and rich depiction of Claude Debussy’s underwater realm finished.

"One day you’ll be bold like Debussy and become not only an admired artist, but also an artist known to your admirers. Imagine the uproar Debussy must have caused when he insisted on naming his composition Symphonic sketches, instead of the expected Symphony back in the year 1905," said Luke.

For sure, and thank you, Luke. For your sake, too, I’d love to be bold but at present I’m too scared to reveal what I’ve kept hidden for such a long time, said Kalinka.

I had a dream that soon enough that day is going to come, said Luke. I’d love to introduce you to the world, and the world to you.

Endings and new beginnings, said Kalinka, as she completed the pastel portrait sketch of Luke in different shades of white with earth colours on a black background. May we always renew ourselves as the moon does. When is the next full moon? Tell me your dream Luke.

Oh, I was thinking before I fell asleep of the scandal Debussy caused in leaving his wife to be with the talented singer Emma Barduc, said Luke. In my dream you walked between maple trees, and because your hair is the colour of autumn leaves on a flame-red maple tree, you became a tree. You know me. I aspire to write you a poem, Kalinka, compose a symphony and have dreams about you. It will only be perfect once you love me again as completely as I always have and always will love you.

From where the duck, the fox fur and Luke comfortably posed for Kalinka against the silken cushions and the velvet sofa, three pairs of eyes observed her. The gazing glass eyes on the fox fur draped over the back-rest of the sofa behind Luke, the pair of scrutinising black beady eyes that belonged to DuckD, her duck, and the caring eyes of her first lover who, once upon a time, introduced her to untainted love. For twenty-eight years Luke, acting on his unwavering belief there was a deep spiritual bond between the two of them that was essential to the growth and evolution of any human, had been her male model.

I feel so safe nestled into the crook of Luke’s left arm; pity the life-drawing sessions have to end, said DuckD.

Debussy, I read, declared that he found more inspiration in paintings of the sea than in being near the sea itself, said Kalinka. I wish I could see the paintings that he referred to. Do you have any of those in your collection?

Luke turned around and stroked the faded and silent fox fur. No, not yet. Fox and I will go on a hunting expedition in search of them. Fox, I entrust Kalinka into your care. Watch over her for me, would you? You keep a keen eye on her for me. I don’t want her to ever be as hungry or forlorn as this lady with her fox fur that we read about in this book.

Isn’t it quite special how French authors and filmmakers can get away with writing an entire book or shooting an entire movie on one subject that is so simple yet so complex as being hungry? he asked.

Yes, they engage us in such an endearing manner. I could’ve been the one who so profoundly starved to death, said Kalinka.

Yes, indeed, she made it sound as if it were an experience not to be missed, and almost succeeded in making me want to add that to my bucket list, said Luke. He smiled affectionately.

Kalinka combed her hair with her fingers and tied it up with a piece of lace that she retrieved from an antique box in one of the hundred drawers of the Chinese medicine cabinet.

So true. She made me feel intensely sad though. I could picture myself as a lonesome woman, sitting there counting my last coffee beans over and over again while the train rattled every now and then, like wrecked nerves, she said, shuddering with the ominous feeling that tangled her gut into a tight knot. I should’ve been more careful of my thoughts. Someone just stepped on my grave. I must be careful what I put out there for whoever listens.

And how she remembered the taste of pastries in the window on display...In such a state of hunger, I wonder if I would be able to recall any taste of any one particular thing, said Luke. He turned his attention to DuckD. What taste will you savour most DuckD?

A lotus flower, quacked DuckD.

And you Kalinka? he asked. By his concerned frown it seemed as if he could feel the similar premonition Kalinka herself had sensed a moment ago.

We’re done. Come and see. I’ll ponder your question. Will your client be happy with the drawing Luke? DuckD quacked, and Kalinka went over to where Luke sat. He handed over to her DuckD and the thin, hard-cover novel. Kalinka smelt the feathers on DuckD’s body that shimmered in a luscious forensic green and cuddled her affectionately. Kalinka found the right spot on the floor, which was covered with unrefined semi-precious stones, crystals and pebbles underneath a thick glass surface, to put down DuckD. There you are. Charioted stones to give you perspective, wisdom and contentment, Kalinka said and placed DuckD on the striking purple stones. Savriti found these for me on one of her travels into a small area of Siberia in Russia near the Chara River, after which the stones were named.

Savriti has the ability to find perfect gifts for her artistic neighbour. To me, the swirly patterns in the stones are reminiscent of a Van Gogh painting, said Luke. Did Savriti assist our twins with planning their trip around the world, and to India?

DuckD waddled off and plunged into the copper bathtub sunken into the far corner of the garden cottage floor. She bathed and splashed in the shallow water that filled the tub.

Of course she did, Savriti’s India is where they’ll be headed first. I haven’t heard any news from them but trust that all those many gods and deities will look after them for us. They were so excited, Luke. By giving them wings you made my dream came true. Thanks for reading the story, Luke. You have an amazing gift, always finding the most interesting classics written by authors from around the world. In a way, you and Savriti, and now the Twins too, bring the world out there to me. It is a good thing you have second-hand bookstores and people wanting to sell and read old books.

Luke laughed. You’re welcome, Kalinka my love. I truly enjoy finding these small treasures and reading them to you. If that is what you wish for, then one day you too will see the world; France where I lived, Savriti’s India…

It turns our life-drawing sessions into pleasurable hours of travelling into other peoples’ heart-spaces. I so look forward to every Wednesday morning, said Kalinka.

You’re a good listener Kalinka, and reading books helps me to keep my acting skills and voice training up to date.

Luke got up in a leisurely way and went to the dressing table to fetch his black polo-neck sweater and the light rain jacket from the coat hanger on the hook next to it. You’re a very good actor. You read with such clarity and emotion. I can picture every scene and character.

While getting dressed, Luke walked over to look at the portrait. To give him time to evaluate the artwork, Kalinka went to watch DuckD enjoying herself swimming in the copper bathtub. Yes, I do, she said.

She fetched the pencil case with an assortment of pastel pencils from one of the hundred drawers of her Chinese cabinet. The pencils were all in different hues of blue. She walked over to Luke to offer him one. Take your pick. I’m curious as to which hue of blue you’ll choose today to go best with the portrait of you and DuckD. You have a fine eye when it comes to appreciation of art.

Curiosity killed the cat; be careful not to stare down dark alleys; never take a short cut and don’t react when you’re angry or hurt, Luke said.

We’re good together; the two of us create symphonic sketches. That’s what we should call the series of sketches. Do you agree? Luke asked and went to the easel to evaluate the sketch, before picking a cobalt blue pencil from the case and handing that to Kalinka. Sign your name with this one, to complement your drawing. Well done. I admire how you have incorporated the fox and the duck in this portrait of us; I can guarantee this particular client of mine is going to love you for interpreting my mood so foxily today, he said. He studied the sketch of himself sitting on the sofa with DuckD contentedly cuddled in his arm. From behind Luke’s shoulder, the fox fur in the sketch looked very much alive and observant of DuckD. Seemingly unaware of the scene but enticed by what he was reading, Luke’s expression in the drawing was one of anticipation.

He turned to Kalinka. This one renders a totally different feel from the previous session when you saw me as a reminiscing old man of 80 with long grey hair, long pointy fingernails and glancing through a pair of owl spectacles on my crooked nose while reading from that old tattered book. It is astounding how you look with your artist’s eyes and for me to see how you picture me at the age of 80.

It must have been a very old first edition that you had in your hands the time before that inspired me. I held my breath and kept hoping the last page wouldn’t be missing. The story captivated my imagination, said Kalinka. I didn’t intend to draw you as an old man. Please, no offence meant, Luke. It simply happened.

"By now you should know you can’t offend me, Kalinka. Ever since I fell in love