Tuesday, November 22, 2005

A Soul, Hollowed... The Devil's Hallowed.

He vaguely remembered a dialogue from a movie not so long back - "Everything that has a beginning, has an end." How true, he remarked. He decided that this was the last time he would walk away from any trouble crossing his path. He was an emotional mess, and he was too frank about his views for his own good. He hated it when other people mistook his words. He walked briskly, right upto where his bike was parked. He watched in amazement as his finger traced the glinting sunlight off the side of her fuel tank. He thrust the key in her ignition, turned it on and kick-started the bike. He relaxed a bit as he heard the familiar deep-throated growl of the engine. His toe flicked the gear lever... and he was off.

He went through the usual routine of touching a Hundred and Ten KMPH on the highway which was a part of the immediate periphery covering the city. The highway manifested itself in a rocky, mountainous region. The adrenaline pumping within his system was usually enough to drive away all the feelings of worthlessness residing in him. But this time there was more to the story. This time, the adrenaline failed him. Dejected, he stopped by his regular dhaba and ordered the yummiest-est Paneer Butter Masala and the tangiest-est lip-smacking Chicken 65...

He wound up with food, and was extremely pleased. He moved a few feet away and lay his back down on the grass... The sun was right above him, shining into his face, blinding him, almost mocking him. He looked around and saw the interplay of sunlight on the trees around him and marvelled at the beautifully chaotic shadows that were created every instant in time. He concentrated his eyes on a yellow leaf which had just detached itself from it's parent tree. He saw the wind play with the leaf. A beautiful pattern. The leaf gently descended to the ground. It would soon merge with the Earth's soil. Born out of dust, only to die and become dust again.

He blinked. He woke up with a start. He never realized how long he had been sleeping.

The sun was setting. He saw another leaf falling. "Deja Vu!" He screamed excitedly. And then, it began... The scene suddenly seemed so different. It was as if the wind was raping the leaf, forcing itself on the leaf... He felt suffocation working it's way up, all the way to his brain. Something that resembled a vague memory resurfaced, exploding an endless stream of crystal clear pictures. It seemed to have happened ages ago. But he knew. It was just the night before... Blazing agony of memories of him brutally raping and murdering the woman he once loved made him smile... And flawlessly transformed into a sick, twisted grin... And then a maniacal laugh. He examined the magazine of the gun. So he was right after all. He had pumped 8 bullets in her. He had shot her in her abdomen, her chest, her privates and finished her off by targeting the forehead.

He rolled up 8 joints of marijuana and smoked em all up. He walked back to his bike, started her and continued down the highway...

He started feeling weird, and frightful. He never saw the speedometer cross a hundred and thirty... He was now yelling out for the memories to stop haunting him. An extremely loud horn doppler shifted towards him... He didn't hear it. Four powerful beams of light converged on his face. He didn't see it. The cold metallic body of the freight truck touched his skin... He saw.

And in that split second, he realized what was happening... He realized what his life was worth - Nothing. He felt a pain numb his body... A film of red blood engulfed his eyes. For a second, he thought that he saw his leg and body in two different places... And then he said to himself - "Ah. So this is what death feels like." He knew where he was gonna go now - Hell.

He smiled a sick twisted smile yet again. And then he died.


The next morning, two police vehicles arrived on the scene. They'd been hunting him down for close to 17 hours now. A cop got down from his jeep, adjusted his Constable's Hat and looked around lazily. And what he saw made his eyes widen in shock. There was a mangled lump of visceral mass and human flesh covered in a pool of dried blood, staining the tarmac crimson. He immediately recognized it as a human body. The body was food to the vultures pecking on the flesh. There was another pool of dried blood at a distance of some ten metres away from the body. Closer examination revealed it to be the right leg of the dead man. And in between the leg and the body, there was a vulture feeding on some flesh.

It was a half intact, half eaten away and just-starting-to-decompose human head smiling a sick twisted smile...


"What goes around, comes around."

Monday, November 21, 2005

A Prodigal Comment?

Originally posted on the Non-Sensei's comments dabba...

And sometimes we try to extract so much meaning from life, keep re-re-re-defining the meaning of life in our cherished personal way, in a way that we feel that no one other than ourself would understand the pains and joys and various other emotions associated with our definition of life... Don't you think so? And frustration builds up because you don't find any other person who can exactly tally with your emotions...

And then one fine day, you wake up and see that life is nothing but a random series of emotions and thoughts hitting your brain, there seems to be no need to extract meaning from life but just accept the randomness as you go along. And a very surprising fact surfaces... that when you choose to believe in the randomness of life, you are actually able to see the order innately flowing within life, and once you choose to believe in this order of life, everything collapses to meaninglessness. And you are left searching for the order, the meaning to your life... yet again.

Why this must be, I know not. Do you?


Etched into sandalwood,
My eternal throughput.
There is no joy, no pain...
My eternal sadness, forever remains...

Friday, November 04, 2005

Recurrence, In and Of Correctitude

I've experimented and waited for some time, too long to make my stand. Some experiments with life are a success, while some... are decidedly never a failure, but can be designated "Improvisations of a Primordial Mind".

I want to seize my Dreams by the neck and tear it open with the raw power of my canines and incisors, and drink the sweet blood of success. The difference between my Dreams and Realizing them is my Will. For too long now, I've let things slip away, and all because of shadows lurking somewhere within the depths of my consciousness.

No more. I will ignite the Fire once again. This time, there will be no thoughts of how to keep the Fire burning. Sheer Willpower is all that I want to pull myself through. I've been missing my Recklessness for too long now.

After all, I need to Reclaim My Life...