Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Patently absurd!

Dwelling on the negative simply contributes to its supremacy. A ship can sail around the world many, many times, but just let enough water get into the ship and it will sink. Just so with the human mind. Thoughts that bubble inside the mind lets the person sink alone. It’s nice to float in thoughts. But letting them bubble. Kills. Kills! Kills the person within. In the jerkiest of seconds.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…………Her face looked mentally constipated and stuck between the key zones of her pillow. She so hates this buzzing sound the cranky fan in her room makes. All applauds to her roommate who increases the fan on the most unearthly hour of the morning. As the other dumbo’s on the block proclaim maybe this girl goes on a guy-hunt chase in her wild morning dreams. What else would prompt her to increase the speed of the fan in the mornings?

Well now this is our young merry-go-lucky girl who infectiously thinks of a day before she opens her eyes to kick-start the lovely morning.

Phew!! The worst whining thought, that too on a decently already irritating morning. She rubbed her eyes. She furiously flicked one eye open. She pulled one edge of the blanket conspiring to cover her from all-so-human but-not-so-human forces.

She closed her eyes tight. Pushed off the blanket. Thud! “Not again! For god sakes, you pig be careful with your laptop!’ She heard the pessimistic pumpkin in her room shout! She turned and shrieked, with her eyes still closed. “If you did not bother, how careful should I be..? How careful? As careful as I was with the fart-head you hooked yesterday?” She said with her eyes still closed.

She dint bother to turn and have the pleasure of gluing her eyes on her friend’s “glazed in red” face. But then for some mysterious reason that always used to make her look good. She swayed to make her way to the bathroom. She smiled to herself. She could feel her temples hurt. The extra pint of vodka sure does sound like a moron when you are out of bed the next day. She pressed her forehead in a fury. Let the pain ease. The bathroom in the stinky rented house could have been constructed in par to the rest rooms in a Dabba. At least. The chirpy self of hers always lets her laugh. Cause she habitually loved life. As though it was thrown down from the heavens, the day the world proclaimed it’s going to end.

But then did things change? No. Hopefully not! But has it?

A self-obsessed alcoholic who blamed others for her reason to drink. Well, just like all the others we have seen. The tomorrows hit on her head. The thought of losing. The thought of oneness. She missed her friend. The one young lady who blessed her life with the little gift of laughter. Now she has become an angel in the dark. Why did the girl do it to herself? Letting herself be rammed by the honk machines of the world. Why did she kill herself? Was she hurt? How would the pain have been like?

She furiously banged her fist hard on the wall.

She sat on the faucet dazed, staring at the flaky patterns that loop in the air out of nowhere. She wondered whether everyone felt this. The intuition that darkens deep in mind marking the beginning of something bad that’s sure to happen. It’s come back again.

She closed her eyes. Splash! Once again. It splashed deep inside her eyes. It looked nothing different from red paint. But… but it smelled different. Of human wants which died along with the soul and body before the universe conspired to end it. It all came back. The fog. The halo of wispy light that followed. The shriek ended as a whimper. The desperate yearn to still connect life to flesh. She opened her eyes all of a sudden. She washed her face. Splashed water until the red was gone. She rubbed her hands on the side wall, the cemented wall which always had reminded her of the thorny dragon. Trivial little imaginations had scared her once. But no more. Cause the unknown is back for her. Back to trace its way along with her to the world of hurt and hatred. Where she was born. She once again looked at the mirror and there it was.

Luring her to the bottomless shade of the grave. She held the razor in her hand. She held it closer to her wrist. It reminded her of a silver bangle which her mom had gifted. Long before she lost her soul to loneliness. She yearned for oneness once again. And the razor hissed deep inside her vein. Drinking the sour wine. She stared at the floor. Everything has become blurred. She could see thick blood slab on earth. Blurred. She sang to herself a song which she had always hated. Let the hatred die along.. and let the pain…too!!

Anger may be kindled in the noblest breasts: but in these slow droppings of an unforgiving temper never takes the shape of consistency of enduring hatred. But then could self-destruction be an emblem of hatred. A word is not a word. It is also a prayer and God, is ALWAYS listening. He gives in HIS OWN TIME not ours. But then why does the human mind forget to understand and give into the far taunting negative qualms of the mind. Enough is Enough..!! But still the waiting does not stay!!


dinkan said...

hmm mind machine is churning out one after another..some parts i lost touch

Anonymous said...

Someone thinks she writes plain absurd stuff.....

I juss wondder, how well she knows herself.. Huh ! People spend a lifetime knowing others, but they forget the most essential essence in life of knowing themselves... u need to work had gurl, on knowing urself...... hope u do get to know soon that u r a genius !

The icecake fumes! said...

Oh oh!! am not eternally sure about what that means??