Tuesday, August 14, 2007
He had promised the land of happiness – pure and true. But promises disappeared like raindrops down the gutter. He gave me smoke, he took away the fire within. He gave me courage; he took away morality. He gave me money, and he took it away before I could even measure how much it was worth.
The Good Lord giveth, the Good Lord taketh away. He gave the destination, took the map away. He gave the words, took the voice away. He gave beauty and He gave blindness.
He gave patience, took persistence away……
I see a light. It’s the high beam of a car – most probably an ambulance. I hear the screeching sirens – it is an ambulance. My thoughts of the Good Lord disappear into thin air – He has just given me the greatest thing on Earth – life. I hear the paramedics talking amongst themselves, their voices faint – “lucky Devil, he is – bullet grazed through and made no damage save the skin. Couple of inches inwards and he was a goner.” I try to sit up. I cant; I am strapped tight on a stretcher, ready to be carried away. some is trying to fit a mask around my mouth and I catch his eyes. “Oi! The fella’s back in his senses, mate”, he shouts to another. I try to recollect the immediate past. A silence, a shot, a dream. A phone call – where is my mobile? I try to look around – currently my whole body is immobile. I try to talk. Not a chance – the mask is pumping in volumes of oxygen down my throat and nose. The head feels lighter now – the mind starts to think better. I remember the last few seconds before losing consciousness – I was on the phone, at the other end of a stony silence. Who had called? The number hadn’t shown up, I remember. I was kind of sure she had called. Did she call back again? I must search my mobile for missed calls. But I cant find my mobile. I realise I am wrapped in a blanket, and my hands are numb and cant feel beyond the warmth of the blanket. The stretcher is still lying. I try to break away from what presently seems like shackles. Either the shackles are too tight or I am terribly weak. I think it’s the latter. I soon realise I am being carried towards the ambulance. I soon get loaded, the ambulance screams on as the driver puts a brick on top of the accelerator.
The traffic all around is slowing down for the VIP to pass by. We are jumping signals and taking wrong lanes and honking and hooting and screeching and speeding. Suddenly a familiar noise – my mobile is ringing again. My neck is too stiff to even turn and figure out where it is. I am just hoping one of the attendants pick it up. But both look reluctant. I know this call is important. I cant even tell them that. Life is being a bitch with me lately. The phone stops ringing. Pause. Starts ringing again. This time it has caught the attention of one of the buggers. He picks up the phone – the way he is talking now I know its just a one sided communication. Wait. He responded to an unknown question. Did he catch her voice then? What is she asking? What did he say? His voice is calm – bullet in the head – injured but alive – being transported to the hospital – the hospital is in – dead – I knew this would happen. Bloody me and my lethargy – at least thanks to the mobile it went live three days without needing to be charged. But why do all things, living or otherwise, need to die at the wrong time? Just another word and things would have been so good. But the mobile wanted to die its death at the time decided by nature. God giveth connection, God taketh the battery away.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
she thought of calling her friend and tell her - she had by now, over the past six months, assumed he had a parallel affair with her and hoped against all hopes that her friend would know a bit more about him or his friends and family than her. the only phone she had was now speaking silence from the other end. she desperately wanted to hang up and call her friend. but a thought passed by. a distinctive woman's instict. she hung up.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
I walk down the alley. The odd owl hoots and scares the hell out of me. It’s a downtown alley – sounds of shrieks and slaps from behind the neighbouring walls are not uncommon. I suddenly stumble. Not much damage done – it’s just a drunk man lying across the footpath. The man moans and throws a kick in the air. I ignore and walk along. There is a shrill noise. Its my phone. I pick it up – there is no voice at the other end. Its not a blank call, the line is still alive. I stop walking and keep responding to the silence at the other end. The silence is suddenly broken – I hear a gun shot. I slump to the ground. The bullet has hit me in the head. My senses fade as I hear the accentuated rant – “Fuck man! You missed again – twice this week. Now we have to dig that bugger out of the shit hole all over again. How could you fuckin’ miss this simple shot man….”
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
She was my life, and she also happened to be a famous danseuse. We had known each other for a decade now. There were days when time wouldn’t move without us seeing each other, talking our hearts out and feeling each other in our arms. But unknown to both, time did move on, and so did we. The mediocrity of our lives had forced us both to leave home in search of the daily bread. Soon we were living in two distant parts of the country, the only ray of hope shining through the optical fibers of telephone lines. The occasional letters, albeit long and detailed, soon started disappearing as the monotony of the monstrous metropolis manifested the meanings of our lives. I started to dive deep down the dark dungeons of despair to drown the deepest desires of being with her.Soon as it was, I returned to my city as an engineer busy building bridges and boulevards. I also came to know she, by now, had her claim to fame by becoming a notable dancer of an eastern dance form. She was now busy touring the world, performing to please the spellbound spectators and critics alike. Her life now was framed in calendar. She had grown big, and busy. Too busy for me too, maybe? She had promised to meet me in our city two years back; I had come all the way to just catch her glimpse, but her silver sedan had sped past me, not even braking for a glance. Since then I haven’t seen or heard from her. Since then I have moved a step closer to lunacy every passing day. I have spent many a sleepless night and disdainful day yearning for her, wanting her, just the look of her at least. But she has remained as elusive as her correspondence address and telephone number.But today it was not to be. Today I knew for sure she would be back in the city. I knew the city she was coming from, the flight she was to take, the hour of her arrival and the route she would take to her next destination. Here I was, half past eleven at night, atop the foot over bridge, looking down at the road she was to take any minute now. My eyes frantically checked for signs of her sedan, the beam of whose headlight was to shine on me any moment now. It was an unusually empty road, and hardly a couple of cars had crossed this path in the last infinite hours of what seemed to be my wait. Was there a light in the distance? Was it that of a car? A sedan? Maybe even a silver one? It sure was! It was her! Speeding down the road. I had no time to climb down the bridge to intercept. The windows were closed and I couldn’t even shout out. What was I to do? Will He give me such a chance again? I jumped.The driver slowed down briefly and looked around to check for eye witnesses. There was blood on his windshield. The wiper could take care of that, though, with some water. The body had bounced off his bonnet and landed in a bush nearby, away from public sight. Chances of survival were out of question. What was he to do, after all? A hard day’s work, followed by a binge drinking session at a friend’s place and then a tiresome drunk drive back home. Even if he did report, who would believe a drunk driver claiming a man had literally fallen from the sky on top of his car? He had already decided to let this be a nightmare for the rest of his life and sped off. Nightmares in one’s own bed were better than those in a prison cell any given day!At the same time there was an announcement in the airport. All flights landing in the city that night had to be cancelled because of bad weather and foggy conditions. All arriving flights for that night have been delayed and are expected at least 24 hours late.