Overkill

Last Night, 3:30 AM
I am awake, again. And I know the lyrics for why I have been unable to sleep for nights. Yes, I was searching for songs on insomnia.
It started with thinking reverse psychology would put me sleep, out of boredom. But it was interesting, and I did get the idea to listen to songs on insomnia. And I had a sound four hours of sleep, after this. Read on, and listen.

I can’t get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I’ll be alright
Perhaps it’s just imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
It’s time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation

At least there’s pretty lights
And though there’s little variation
It nullifies the night from overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Come back another day

I can’t get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I’ll be alright
It’s just overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away

Small Talk.

M – So, how is my best friend doing today ?
R – I don’t know, who is he or she or it ? I ll just run along and ask. *Smirk
M – Aha ! Its your dry humor that keeps this place running. *I-have-the-upper-hand smile
R – Not without your sarcasm, sir .. I am just food for its soul. *I-will-have-the-last-laugh
M – The one who understood the joke last, had the last laugh.
R – *How can he read my thoughts?* *I need to say something* *Oh something* So, anyway, what are we here for?
M – Are you married?
R – No. Not yet. *Why-does-he-ask?
M – Oh, but why? Are you gay?
R – Not yet. But tomorrow is another day. *Ah-it-rhymes and with my voice, it chimes ! And it rhymes again .. its giving me pain !
M – The dry humor again. Then, how do you bring a lunch box?
R – A hired a cook who cooks. *It really is small talk.

And it really is small talk. All characters are figment of my imagination. Any resemblance to real life is purely co-incidental, unintentional and entirely unprovoked.

Courage.

I was intimidated from the moment I entered the building. An aura of history engulfed the place, as if a wretched past was associated with it. There a mild warm breeze blowing across the street, giving a mirage-like tinge to the brownish fading walls of the building. It swayed in front of my eyes. I was desperate to go on, against the odd, against my will.

As I crept up the dusty stairs, I wail crept up from inside and echoed in my heart. I was startled and almost fell back, my determination shaken to the core. I tried to shake the fear away .. think of something calm .. and it was then, that my eyes fell at the red stains across the wall, blood red. It’s a wretched haunted place, something inside me screamed and yet against my own heart, I went on unheralded. My gaze fixated at the blood on the wall. It looked as if it was trying to warn me, someone with a past wading off my future. And yet, something tugged at me, constantly pulling me inside. I was strangely proud of having defied all odds, and worked my way through to my destiny. I am intimidated, am I at the wrong place at the wrong time, what will become of me? And yet, with steely grit and determination, I trudged forward. I have to do it today, otherwise …

And I entered the electricity department. Today was the last day to pay the bill. I have to do it. The pan stains gleamed in the sun !

3 .. 2 .. 1 ..

The drop of sweat trickled down his cheek. He could feel the trail it left behind, slow, deep and anxious. He could feel his heart beating against his ribs, hard enough to just burst out. Can they hear it too the loud thudding noises in his chest, he looked at the guy besides him and wondered. And there was just a void, an emptiness growing inside him as he tried to quieten his thoughts and concentrate.

He always did this before every race, just think of nothing. A meditative state. He had done it for years, sprint after sprint, never realizing how far he lagged in the race of his life. As she used to say – a quiet mind is quite the best. He never forgot that, or any other thing she said. The deep timbre of her voice echoed in his head. He tried to picture the amber color of her skin, the sweet aroma she exuded, the blue of her eyes, and that expressive twitch of her smile .. He could feel the drop dripping down his face, only this time it was a tear – one that tore him apart.

The train alarm sounded, he was ready to jump. 3 .. 2 .. 1 ..

And as it passed over, he wondered aloud, even if you win the race, you are still a rat !

Kyra – Paul Zerdin

I, for one, am a crude connoisseur of the fine arts, as in I appreciate, I criticize, I adore and I hate, if given a chance, but I rarely go out of my way looking for one. This time though, it was different.

Kyra Theatre, 100 ft road, Bangalore. The hours of twilight dawning upon us as the flickering light from the incense candle in front lit up the heart and mind, I looked deep into those eyes .. deep beautiful .. withdrawn .. oh .. I am not talking about that here .. lets leave that to another day and stick to ventriloquism for time being.

Ventriloquism, the art of throwing your voice .. was the performance that day, and the man in action, and when I say it, I truly mean in action, was Paul Zerdin – and Papa CJ. Papa CJ was the introductory comic – he had the crowd into splits before the action even began. I for one, popped one eye from laughing (no .. not literally). And then came the voice throwing, puppet handling, crazy as hell Paul Zerdin. Well, what followed were rounds and rounds of insults on certain sections of the crowd, embarrassing moments for many and enthralling ones for the rest. Check out this video for how the guy does it .. (This ain’t what we saw but snippets of it from another show)

Check out the site for Kyra as well, lovely place to spend an evening

Moving on

S: Have you looked at yourself. You look horrible.

I: (Bemused, self smiling) I treasure that. That is courtesy what he does to me. It’s a gift ..

S: Aah! You have got to get realistic. Get rid of him. He is driving you insane. You look like a moaning spider caught in its own web. (Chuckle)

I: Ironical indeed. A moaning spider .. I think of it more like an aura, a sense of being, a distinct look to me.
It thrills me as I look into the mirror and see a different person.

S: But, you look awful to the world, the sane world that is. You ought to leave him.

I: But he says I am the most loyal to him. He enjoys our time together and moreover ..

S: Oh, but that look it leaves on you is pathetic.

I: .. and he is economical !

S: You .. ! You know what, there a thousand better than him out there .. let me take you to mine. My treat.

I: (moving closer to the mirror) Maybe you are right, I need to move on. I need to cut him out of my life now.

And I have a new barber now