pulp by Jacoba. He stared at the ceiling fan that span with a clicky noise. He tried to recount what had happened. Jacoba’s soft breasts touching his chest, the smoke from her joint engulfing his face and then his nakedness. What had happened in between? He touched the bruises on the elbows and knees. The blood was still fresh over them sticking on his fingers. Sometime during the night Jacoba’s suggestion to look for who was the Dutch man that seized the fort dawned on him. He switched on his computer and searched the Net for the history of the Portuguese fort of Kollam. In one of the sites Amal read, “The Dutch East India Company began to despatch ships to India from 1595 onwards and after many encounters with the Portuguese and their allies they succeeded in establishing their power in several places in India. Under Admiral Van Goens, Quilon was captured in December 1651.” Admiral Van Goens . . . so Jacoba Van Goens was no ordinary tourist after all. She was the historic Dutch admiral’s descendent who had come to re-enact the ancestral battle in a very different way on the land that was his mind and body – Amal mused winking at the air. He eagerly surfed to another site and lapped up further history with a smile dawning over his face. “. . . to renew the campaign on the Malabar Coast in 1661, a Dutch fleet was despatched to Cochin under the command of Admiral Van Goens. It captured Quilon on 7th December and laid siege to the Cranganore fort on 3 January 1662. Finally they landed troops at Vypeen. They built a fort called New Orange and bombarded Cochin from there. A battle was fought in front of the Mattancherry Palace and Cochin forces were forced to withdraw with heavy loss in men and material. Van Goens compelled Rani Gangadhara Lakshmi to recognise her deposed nephew as the King of Cochin. In the meantime, the Dutch converged on Portuguese Cochin from three directions. . . ” A cold breeze carrying the salty mist of the sea entered Amal Albuquerque’s bedroom. A whiff of tulips wafted past him invoking sensations that lay submerged in the deep recesses of the fort of his mind. He heard battle cries and twangs of clashing steels coming from the direction of the sea. As he sank in the bed again he wondered if giving in could be a joy after all.
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