My Grave-Stone

I did not like the feel of metal against bare skin. It felt naked and vulnerable. And yet, it was the way of life. The flesh, the cold stern touch .. the bruise it left for life .. a grudge that slowly subsided away and gave way to a pain .. a slow revelation of brutal heart ache.  I could never get over the tearing away of flesh, the sudden impact of leather and iron. And I ran , I ran hard till my blood turned acrid, throat arid and my heart pumped iron clad fists at my chest. I ran …

I hated the feel of metal against bare skin, and yet I had to endure. With cold metal in a casing and a trigger tucked under your shirt, you felt safe. There is a false sense of security with death tucked at your waist, how ironical it seems. Amidst the smoke and the dirt, I could see his face. He strained to get a look at me. I felt his stare driving me to the wall, nailing me down. And yet, it felt familiar. His stare, the attitude, the cold sudden hatred, it was all painted on my heart. And I ran … Panting .. sparing no breath … But he was always there. It was like living an eternal paining truth .. running from it and facing it yet again, it its gory glory time and again. Life was not easy.

The feel of metal against skin was unforgiving, tortuous. I was hidden from the tiger, crouched on a tree, sweating .. keeping my heart beat slow, for there was an eternity yet to endure. And that was when I saw the branch slowly bending its way down, down to a dead dark well .. I could almost touch the slimy hissing snakes .. There was no hope, no purpose .. and so no fear. I bent down further to lick water drops off the leaf .. and then ..

“Died of a heart-attack, pupils dilated, nightmare probable cause, found dead on arrival” – said the doctor’s report.

The dark feel of metal against skin is fatal. The coffin touched my bare hands. I felt the same. Life was no different than death. I still hate the feel of cold bare metal .. and I ever will, and that’s what my grave-stone reads.

R.I.P.

The alchemy of desire !

He could feel the evening chill settle down on his torn back. He covered his legs with the damp blanket. It was not that cold in there, but his bare body could take it no more … his head fell back .. deep into thoughts ..

She sat near him, he could hear her breathing … strange thumping sound .. His own back was drenched with sweat. He felt the need to talk to someone .. he wasn’t used to all this .. he had never even ….

“Hey … where are you heading ?”

She looked at him .. her eyes were soaring red .. and intent .. he felt the determination in her eyes .. a will to do something. He was shifty-eyed as ever .. could not make eye contact .. guilt remorse fear …

” Running from life ” she said .. and then chuckled ” and you “

” I guess we are together in the journey ” he wondered aloud at the storming thought of running fom life .. in his case .. towards death. He felt the plug inside his jacket.

” But this journey, we all have to do alone .. ” and he again felt a stinging pain in her voice .. but yet she had a charming gleam in her eyes .. with a yearn to live .. entiely contradictory to her expression .. he was bemused by how well she concealed her thoughts behind a chain of words .. he could hear the voice of command in his head .. you have to do this today .. you have to blow up the bus … he felt the fuse again

” Yes, it is true .. ! ” he felt strangely in love with her … he looked around the bus anshe was eveywhere .. the old lady with the kid … the kid .. the youngman and his wife .. the little girl and her father … she was everywhere . in the form of a will to go on.. to not give up … he felt weak in the knees .. he could not do this now … she was too .. too … he coudn’t say it

He surrendered to fate .. he wanted to live even if ..

“Live bombe surrenders .. red alert in the city”

He and She !

The thread of love : His and hers

It had been a hard day, exhausted and torn, he returned home. With the creak of the door she got up. He couldn’t still himself. A forlorn day without uttering a word…extending well into the dark hours..he was trembling with dread and fear. Tear swollen eyes, tired steps, heavy breath he needed her. The mind was tormented by thoughts.
Were these haunts, dreaded warnings, signs of fate? The thoughts clouded him and the slowly arose .. guilt. Was it all his fault. Had he murdered his own … had he claimed a life? How could he live with the pounding guilt in his heart? But
What else could he have done? What else … The eye lids seemed too heavy with tears. The heart had been broken, the mind clouded.

She came towards him; he could sense her smell, her touch, her feeling.
Still out of his mind, he took the glass of water she extended. It was cold.. She was cold. And that was when he realized, how it could be. How could she be… Numbed by her touch, his body went still, eyes content and relieved. He didn’t dread the end as much as the life. The broken thread hung from the wall. The police knocked open the door. He was lying there. Cold. Water spilled around him.

A dead body was found in ‘ ‘ at ‘ ‘ nagar. According to police claims, he was a labourer at ‘ ‘ factory. Doctors say that no signs of a conflict were found on his body and the cause of death has been established as heart attack.

In an unrelated incident she was found dead in the civil hospital. Her body has not been claimed. Mr. ‘ ‘, police in charge confirmed that she bore a child and a case of foeticide has been registered against the doctor.

Abyss-mal

I do not fear death, it’s the seconds of conscience before it that haunt me.

This photograph has been taken seconds before i jumped off the cliff.An account of ‘the seconds’.

a thousand feet : His words still echo in my mind.

Today is the day I realize the mirror has broken and I witness the other side of the wall… gloomy and dark instead of the reflection I used to adore.
‘This is true, I am. What she told is you is probably disturbing and heart breaking for you. But for me, you cannot even imagine. This is not the way, i wished to unfold before you, Son. ‘
Shattered images from the past fly before my eyes and i can see, and make sense. Why did it happen, I do not know. After all these years, why now? No one to quench the thirst, no one to stand beside me, no one to say m……, this is what i have with me now. And i adore it. Atleast, I die with a name…the name.a hundred feet :

Running fast… running for life… I keep turning to see… is it coming? It’s a desert… far reaching mounds of sand everywhere I see. It is like running in empty space. I can feel the sand slipping under my feet. The haunting yells of wolves on the look out for a prey. The voice of the night… humming constantly in sand intruded ears. I can almost touch the thud sounds of feet catching up. Sudden pangs of fear rise and fall in my heart. It seems my heart would pop out any moment now. And yet I keep running… on and on and on. It seems destiny has resolved my future with a prejudice, rather a vengeance.

‘The devil pounces upon me
On my soul he feeds
In chains writhing with pain
“What have I done?” I scream’

Are these hallucinations,am i really having pangs of self – realization before I D.., Is this a dream before i wake up. or is this the wake up.?
‘It is not as if I did not try, but it was not possible for me to carry on. I hope you understand.’
Why should i understand.? Why should I …

a ten feet : This is not the end, nor is it a beginning. To life, there is no end and no beginning. The unending journey continues ….. Lust, Anger and Greed have feint us into closing our eyes and heading to the blind well… the unending fall into the abyss of life.

This post is not a figment of my imagination – which itself is a figment of my imagination – and truly happened.
All stunts have been performed by professional. Do not try them at home.