Emily

There was discontent among everyone when I asked them to visit Butterfly Beach. As per the plans we had the liberty to pick up a beach of our choice where we will be visiting for the next 5 days we spend in Goa. It did took some persuasion on my part to take everyone to this beach which I was hoping to find secluded only to end up realising it wasn’t really as empty as the guy back at the resort has told us. There was people around, foreigners as well, but it was much better then Anjuna and Calangut which was just swarming with newly -wed couples, screaming children, the jet ski rides, parasailing boats and all other activities that could destroy a perfect gateway. While Andrew wanted to go back at Calangut we visited yesterday to find some chicks to flirt with, Ishai had a neutral stand and Amy was too obsessed with her book so she never cared where we’d go. Anyways we were able to find ourselves a peaceful corner on the beach. We rested for a while, had a little talk about stuff and then went quite again looking towards the horizon as the sun rays danced over the clear waters. Something interrupted Andrews gaze, probably some small fishing boat over a distance and he stood up and told he is going to search for some beers. Ishai joined him and they both said they will be back within an hour. Amy hardly seems to care about anything and went back to her reading. I was the only one left with no essential work so I asked Amy I am going to take a walk over the cliff to get a better view of the beach and ocean.

10 minutes of walking through a rocky side of the hill and I was almost at the top. I thought to myself it would be a hell of a view from up here, I am sure. Only I ended up to a sight which wasn’t really a welcoming gesture to my eyes.

“I wouldn’t do it if I were you”, I yelled at her as I took a seat perched upon a rock just few steps away from the edge.

She did saw me. She seemed scared but said nothing and turned her back at me.

“If you survive that fall, I assure you they going to looking for you for murdering me.” I screamed again, this time trying to be bit sarcastic.

“And why the hell they going to look for me for murdering you? Are you here for a thrilling experience as well as I am”, she finally uttered.

“Not exactly as you think. But I can say I had my share of what you are going through and I must remind you it isn’t worth what you are thinking of doing. And as far as your doubt is concerned here is why the cops will come looking for you.

Obviously my foremost attempt will be to somehow convince you not to jump. I had to make sure whatever I am telling you and beware of not making at advances towards you to prevent you from jumping because in that case you will jump as soon as I start running towards you. However if still my attempts fail and you still jump off, I will jump off after you, being a good lad I am, in order to somehow save you. Now since it isn’t much height to hit yourself at the bottom, I am assuming you will hardly injure yourself and will be forced to swim back at the beach while I would just drowning dead given the fact I can’t swim. So who do you think they will be looking for when they start?”

“You are the weirdest guy I have ever heard talking” she shrieked at me.

“Indeed, you are correct. And this guy is asking you not to jump because if you jump from here the fall is hardly going to cause any injury, forget about dying. So I suggest if you are so eager walk or swim towards Stairway to Heaven I suggest you to try Grandmothers Hole Beach. It much more secluded and at an appropriate height as per your requirements”.

She stood there for some time. There was an odd silence for a moment. It appeared like she had realised that I was correct but she wasn’t really convinced with all that and she proceeds another step.

“Can I talk to you for a moment before you jump? I promise I will leave you on your own as soon as I am done. I just need to speak for a moment”.

“Why?? Why do you want to talk to me? I don’t want to talk to anyone. So just go away.” She screamed loudly, this time sobbing.

“Probably because I think I deserve to know the reason at least why you are doing so. Think about it, committing a suicide without giving the world any prior explanation or reason why you did that. Don’t you think it’s kind of rude”.

“The world has been rude to me. Why the fuck I would care?”

“Ok, I get it. But if you are thinking of dying without any reasons I believe you are the dumbest person I have ever seen committing a suicide. Hell even Amy Winehouse and Kurt Cobain had a reason to suicide no matter how fucked up or conflicted it may be. But you jumping off this cliff for no compulsory motivation is just bonkers and that makes you dumb.”

“I’m not dumb or stupid. I am a graduate from Stephens. You are too stupid to assume me as dumb.”

“Doesn’t matter. You are still dumb.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“Go to hell.” She exclaims finally, only this time I realise she will jump.

“What’s your name?  At least tell me the name.”

She stood motionless for some time. I could sense some annoyance and dissatisfaction from her stance and then she speaks up finally.

“Emily. Emily De Cruz.” She says.

“Ok, Emily Brewster. My name is Richie. Nice to meet you! Now why don’t you walk away from that cliff start walking towards me so that we can discuss whatever is bothering you. I am telling you again another step you make towards that edge and it isn’t worth. So I am requesting you to kindly step away.”

She did pay no heed to my request and was reluctant to step away.

5 years have passed since that little stunt Emily had performed. I haven’t visited Goa due to my frantic schedule. I left a piece of myself back there but brought back another that I will be cherishing for the eternity. Emily and I had grown older day by day in last 5 years. We don’t see each other at all. We never call or text each other. But we took to a rather very conventional and old- fashioned approach to stay in touch. We write letters. That was one odd condition she put forth when I asked for her contact. I receive letters from her randomly although I make sure I write her once every month. I tell her about my business trips, the pretty girl I went on date with, the alien looking food I tried, discussing my frustrations and anguish, my desires and my fears.

She would write back, which she did once in a blue moon and had a very peculiar way of writing letters. Emily never write about the usual and routine stuff but her writings although may sound eccentric they have their own way of telling me that she is doing fine. At times it did concern me why she writes letters in such an odd sense, which may read totally out of context and hardly made any sense. Once she wrote me a letter in which she described me how exquisite and big the moon would appear on a full moon night from the edge of the very cliff where we first met. She continued how greatly she desired to fly away into the vastness of the infinite skies of a thousand worlds over the silver oceans that glittered as if the stars are floating into the water. This is how she would often describe whatever caught her desire. She never did write about one particular nature and world but always mentioned multiple ideas of the land and realms that could exist. At first I thought she just meant it in a rhetorical way or she was trying to persuade me to form an abstract idea of her perceptions. At times I even thought if she doing any hallucinating drugs which became a concerning thought for me and which she denied in jest.

In the past few days, the thought of Emily’s family had been disturbing me a lot. I wanted to ask her about it but since she never mentioned it I never tried on my behalf to enquire. Maybe because somewhere deep inside I was afraid of losing the bound I shared with her and she knew it. When I was about to leave Goa she told me she will accept my friendship only if it was on her terms and there wasn’t any chance for negotiations. I was not allowed to look for her or enquire about her and not even to come looking for her no matter how compulsive and impatient my heart makes me feel. She had literally warned me that ever I came back looking for her she will know it and will never speak to me. So I never did. And though there was an air of certain mystery around the whole situation I never really tried to persuade the feeling of mistrust towards her.

What Emily and I had was more than any words of love and friendship can ever describe and no matter how strange and vague it may sound to everyone else I knew that it was real. We were not in a love relationship but we carried a bond which was no less than what a man and a woman are entitled to be in if they like each other. We shared with each other our deepest desires and our most haunting fears, our tainted secrets and cheesy jokes. We had built our own world with those letters in which we could wander off from the usual trails into the mystic woods and grasslands to the mountains and caves. There was everything I could have wished for. That image of her when I saw her last time is like forever itched in my memory and she continues to dwell in my mind even after years have passed.

The last time I saw her she wore a white floral dress with blue flowers printed on it. She always wore the white at least every time I met her for the remaining 3 days in Goa. I never tried to ask her the reason because she looked beautiful in it. Her splendid hair would look like as if they could summon the winds of the seas and as they fell upon her perfectly chiselled face as the wind blew. She would always wear a flower in her hair to compliment the ones on the dress she wore any particular day and a bracelet of white shells and gold. Emily loved listening to Nick Drake and told me how she felt bad about him never gaining spotlight as long as he was alive. She loved Neil Young, Eddie Vedder, Johnny Cash, Fleetwood Mac, The Smiths and David Bowie. She had never carried off that smile since I stopped her from running off that cliff and would always greet with a smile that was enough to wear off all the anxiety at the end of the day. There was something really very exceptional about her. It would never reflect but it existed like a fresh breath of spring at her face and like the tranquillity of a summer evening whenever she was around. The day I was about to leave I gifted her with a tiara made of crystal jade flower.  She was reluctant to accept it but I convinced her to wear it as a reminder of our uncanny yet beautiful relationship. For the last time I saw into her blue eyes which reminded me of the same ocean on whose shores I walked holding her hands to say my last goodbye. Something tells me she inherited those from her father and I told her that she feels like a beautiful mermaid to me, trapped in the realm of man. She laughed it off.

She would always write about stars and trees, the birds and their songs, the clouds and their shape in each of her letter. But from the last few days I had grown relentless of her writings. I was now expecting more from her. There was no doubt about it that I had nurtured a feeling for her which was more than mutual attraction. She was perfect in every sense to me and she was all that I wished her to be. I couldn’t just let go of how I felt about Emily despite of all she had asked me. Despite her final words which came as a warning, “if I ever tried to look for her, I will be gone and never will you hear of me”.

And despite of all she warned about, I decided to take another journey to search for her and for everything she never told only this time I decided to go without telling anyone where I was going. On the next day, when I reached Vasco I tried to sneak around the address where I used to send her the letters. I ended up making a fool out of myself when two women I met in the street told that the address I was looking for didn’t exists and neither have they heard of the person I was looking for. I wasn’t convinced enough and so I decided to do a check in the Public Record Office. By pulling a few strings I wasn’t granted access to the library where they kept the records of every known resident of Vasco. I spent the whole day browsing through thousands of files but couldn’t find any which would lead me to her. I left the place in disappointment. Finally, I had some suspicion building up in the back of my head. I questioned the possibility of someone’s disappearance with no known record of his/her existence and shrouding it with such a great level of anonymity that no one had ever heard of the person before. Something tells me there is stuff that doesn’t add up. Nothing made sense. The day was about to end and I thought to do another reccee around the block where I was searching before. I kept on walking from door to door, searching every street and corner, sweating and panting when I finally ended up exhausted in front of a small yellow house. It was dark and there was no one in the street only a street light which was flickering occasionally. There was no nameplate on the gate which could tell me otherwise still I decided to see if there is anything I could find. I entered the courtyard, knocked a few times on the door knob but no one answered. I tried to peep through a window to check if someone was in but there was no one but only a beautiful decorated living room that was lit by a chandelier in the middle. I had an eerie feeling about all this but the relentless urge of find the answer to my quest was compelling me to look for more. Finally I gathered my guts and tried to force myself in through the window which was unlocked.

The house appeared to be grand and splendid from the inside. I never thought a place which appeared to be so old from the outside could be so well maintained and impressively done. The walls appeared to be newly painted. They were blue and yellow. There was a couch in the middle of the living room. A small television was kept in front of it like the one I had at my home some 20 years ago. The floor of the living room was lined with carpets which looked like hand crafted in some foreign lands. They carried some kind of inscriptions on them in a language I couldn’t decipher and the embroidery of fishes and corals on it. I tried to explore more and moved from the living place to the bedroom. Everything in there was neatly done, the drapes where tied on the windows and the sheets appeared like they had never been used. Adjacent to the bed I noticed a small table which had a drawer. Without any more compulsion I opened it to find an object that left me struck and staring into the darkness of that drawer where this petite object was glittering like a lone star in the darkest sky. I picked up the jade tiara and somehow it felt like I have been thrown back into the past when I first met Emily. I couldn’t just let go of this anxiety. I searched for some more clues but there was none except a pink crystal jade tiara, similar to the one I only gave to Emily. I started to lose my mind as nothing appeared to make sense. I couldn’t keep a record of time and it felt like I have ended into a void where the concept of time and space were non-existent.  I walked back into the living room and landed on the couch, tired and confused over the whole situation, Emily’s tiara in my hand. My eyes went heavy and I ended up lying on the couch itself. I could feel the breeze of the ocean streaming against my face which felt like a kiss from a lover and the winds carrying the scent of the ocean with it. The waves blared across the shores but it sounded like a contentment I derived when I listened to Emily’s voice. And slowly everything went still and quiet.

I could feel the winds hitting across my face tenderly. The sunrays appeared to be dancing as my eyes tried to adjust to the light of late afternoon. I tried to gather my senses and see if there was anyone around. I tried to draw some conclusion from the fragments of last night episode. The house was gone. There was not a hint left that could even tell if it was there. There was a beach down a broken track from where I just woke up. The cliff reminded me of something or someone from the past. Like if I had been here before. And then it all began to make sense. But it still doesn’t add up.  The house was real. Everything I saw it was real. She was real. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I had been dreaming all this time. I heard someone shouting for me from the beach. It was Amy. But was she really there? How could she end up here?  Or is it really I had been through some weird and vivid dream? Yes, I had just overslept and had been dreaming. I let a sigh of relief. But the tiara in my hand tells me otherwise.

From Mechanical to Genetic Engineering: How we ventured into a new domain

There are two people Ishaan and me fascinated towards these days and both these persons are serving as an ideal object for our outrageous sarcasm and lame satirical jokes.

Although I doubt if either of these persons should be termed as human let us for a moment assume them to be some biological entities for the events to follow.

The first person might be someone I had never been to proud mentioning. Now I know I cannot be the only one who feels the same way about their ex-girlfriends but since our experimental results requires female gametes to accomplish the necessary outcomes I’m going to let myself be mocked by the whole world.

 

Part 1: Leethal by choice

So this person goes by some beautiful name “Leethal”. Of course I never knew what the name means and I never even intended to ask why. Even if I did I couldn’t remember. Which is I am glad about. The less I remember the better I feel. It’s weird how it works contrary to remembering your recent crush. Anyways Leethal is actually both an intriguing and hit-me-with a rock sort of subject to study. I use to date her in high school. Back then, even I was a handsome asshole with a brain size of a peanut which explains the fact of me dating her. While I somehow evolved from an asshole into a creepy technical geek, this girl still remains the same. It just kill my nerves how some people are so contained into their humble cocoon of ludicrous talks and always surrounded by some misplaced sense that they are funny, they never actually grow up: logically, physically and sexually.  My recent late night misadventures with her let me to dwell into something very sensitive and hazardous situations. And all though I tried my best to avoid such any unwanted sexual innuendoes which may tell otherwise the force of compulsion was so strong that I had to let my 23 year old, sexually unsatisfied, virgin beast to take over the hot debate of the night: masturbation. I could'nt help but notice why my ex-girlfriend was developing such unusual interest into my private zone and into my bathroom walls but she seems more than just willing to discuss it on phone. Anyways as a self declared heathen god of rationality and broad minded species I explained her explicitly and without an inch of shame how normal it is for the human beings to release the throbbing and pent-up energy building inside their pants and flushing it down into the crazy cosmos of municipalities drain where it will fuse with more frustrated as well as horny energised atoms to create an intriguing universe whose beauty can only be appreciated by scientific intellectuals like me. I could never say that if she was about to orgasm with all these as I was talking to her through texts but what followed later made my belief rock solid that not only Leethal is an alien from the planet Ur-anus but also she was incapable of experiencing orgasm.  The texts in which she proudly admitted that she had never- like-ever masturbated until now since she cracked her puberty and never she did practised any wet fantasy about any guy left me in constant state of bewilderment and sour trepidation. My jaw dropped from the ground into the fourth quadrant as my eyes tried to adjust to the brightness of the screen which still cannot believe what they just read. At first I thought to myself and I even asked her if it’s her shyness which prevents her from revealing about her washroom affairs but her continual denial from involving in any merry times left me feeling a icy chill crawling up my spine like a girdled lizard. The very thought of multiple tentacles brutally ramming my ass like they show in a Hentai comics was so disturbing and horrifying that I went blank as it ran across my mind the carnage I would be subjected to if I ever had sex with her. I was lost in some kind of oblivion where I couldn’t sense anything but only a voice echoing throughout my cranium which was screaming like a mad crow, “Never Masturbated”.  I couldn’t bring myself to laugh and neither did I cry. All I said is “Good Night” and tuck myself into the warmness of my blanket.

                      

Part 2: A creep too dull to understand

Dullcreep was our classmate in high school. However I never got to know much about him as I left my previous school early. So I thought Ishaan should write an extract about him. What followed is a ghastly tale of horror that is so mental disturbing that it made Ishaan crap his pants as he recounts that horrifying past.

P.S: The following events are based on real events which occurred in real time and not a work of fiction. The readers are advised to continue at their own discretion. Do not read if you have a heart condition or any history in mental disorders. Thank you!!

 

It was the summer of 2008. The boards were over. The result was out. And it was probably the last time ever I scored scholar level grades. Goodtime it was. Boys were on the cusp of manhood. Gone was the time of bicycles in our lives. Everyone wanted a vehicle to go anywhere especially to school. And ours was a bit different.  It had no bus service at all. The only mode of school transport at hand was the auto-rickshaws. And for the most privileged ones, there were matadors. Still, it seemed shameful to travel by any of these. A personal vehicle was must, even if it was someone else and you were the pillion. Neither did it matter whether it was an Activa or a bloody 2-stroke Scooty.

And as my fate would have it I got to be the pillion on our subjects Activa. And it wasn’t intentional. I was helpless. For two reasons, one is that where I lived not many chose the same school as I did and second he was not only in my school but also he was my classmate. He was the most pathetic and disgusting dumbass the world might have seen. And ever will. To start with, he seemed to have no concept of body hygiene. The word “hygiene” was something he thought existed on Pluto. Second, he had no sense of any sense known to human. I mean people hype things or make them up to be ironic or sarcastic or anything but direct. He made things because he thought he actually lived them, things that even a dumb deaf and a blind person can comprehend with confidence would never happen in the real world with any being like Dullcreep. He was fucking dumb. The only way he knew to raise his voice..rather produce one was either to fart or to burp. His nose was so accustomed to the smell of shit I guess, that he thought roses were toxic. He was the very despicable imbecile that no one would want to come cross in their life.

And there’s more. He was the least favourite person in his own family. At least that’s what he said. He was so humongous that his bed was made of granite. I suspect it was because his ass was like the solar system for termites. He barely knew English. But no, he thought he could beat Shakespear single handily in an elocution competition. And I can be sure he would cause hearing the massacre he caused to the language Shakespear would have preferred to die. Instantly!

   Also, he thought he was intelligent. I mean every time he opened his mouth along with his thoughts I felt like going home to home in the whole colony I live in, collect each and every shoe and slipper I could find and beat the shit out of his face. He always thought he could easily make friends. And in his own mind he lived in a world where he thought that the people were longing desperately to befriend him and the saddest thing is that the line that separated his world from the real one was FUCKING BLURRED….!!!

He was impossibly repulsive. He was so repulsive that if he were a metal even the strongest of magnets wouldn’t want to stick to him. And he blindly refused everything that the world thought of him. All of which was fucking right.

He was usual, thought contrary. He thought of himself as the most charming guy. Not only that he went on to think of himself as a Casanova. He had girlfriends (read as virtual) in every country. He claimed to have dated every girl that would even in her last legs wouldn’t go for a guy like him. Every other day he came to my house. I was the nearest living victim and hence the most unluckiest one. And all those months he months he came to my house every evening for at least an hour which is something that I wouldn’t even want my enemies to go through. He was so insensitive at times that when I was leaving my home to go somewhere, he would arrive suddenly. And he would just stand there and talk as if I won an hour to talk with him in a fucking lottery. And he stayed there as if I had no bloody business other spoiling my evening with an hour of bullshit coming out of the bull himself. At times when I had plans with my family, this ass prick would still stand there talking as casually as if we were on a chitchat holiday in Hawaii. He was upper limit of everything intolerable anyone can imagine. He really is the most pathetic person that the world will ever see. I mean, he is impossible. People like him bend the very fabric of human nature. People like him can turn any living object to a dead just by spending time with it. And it dreads me like hell to know for a fact that he will and definitely will reproduce it. It just scares me to the depth of my ass that the world will keep seeing dumbfucks like him and its infinitely depressing to know for a fact that someone somewhere will keep suffering because of such toxic beings.

I mean he met us each time with such a fucking pride as if we had been dying to be friends with him. We tried everything we could to make him understand that he is being ignored. But that wild boar didn’t seem to get anything. He stuck on to us as if he was made of Fevicol. I tried everything even bluntly directly saying everything to his face. WHO THE FUCK STILL DOESN’T GET THINGS?? How easy can things be?? The only way left was for me to learn genetics, get a Ph.d and program his fucking DnA to make his brain comprehend that he is an asshole.

Part 3: From Mechanical to Genetic Engineers, a vision to make a better world

Around 6 P.M. in evening at University campus, one unemployed and other to be unemployed mechanical engineers looks towards the vast horizon of the infinite crimson blue skies of their miserable city. A malfunctioning laptop in one hand and a Sutta in another they are thinking about the marvellous stupidity of their respective subjects when all of a suddenly a bizarre and   stupendous idea hit one of them.

All this while we kept nagging about the stupidity and dim- witted talks of Dullcreep and Leethal but never did we ponder on the idea of how we can benefit from the very tools which existed for our damnation can be turned into the weapons of our salvation. And so the idea of cross species genetics emerged from the darkest corners of my brain and turned it into a lucrative market for defence and home applications. The quest for our new venture had began and we were about to step into a new domain about which we had little or no knowledge. The risk was far greater than we could have ever imagined but what we had was an idea, an idea to make this world a better place, to give those people back what they deserve and to protect and serve our great nation. An idea to cross- breed Dullcreep and Leethal and to create a super-hybrid specimen that possess the dominant genes of both their parents and then to supply this hybrid species on commercial basis to various areas where the applications of our innovation can be utilized. Imagine you come home from a tiring and frustrating day, whining, what a complete ass your boss is and then be welcomed at your door by one of these fine creations of ours, smiling back at you like a retarded turd. The weekly meeting was enough to make your day suck and then seeing a fucking face like this to make your day go from bad to worse. You get so annoyed that you begin to gnash your teeth, churning them into calcium powder and fuming like a lava and without even having any specific reason you get hold of the first thing you can find be it an umbrella, a baseball bat or your shit-covered shoe and your start beating them until all your frustration and all that you were upset about is cleansed and you feel lighter, relieved and refreshed. Imagine having an army of such fucking dumb retards at your disposal and what a terrible wrath will it inflict upon your enemy. Think about ending a war without even firing a bullet. Your enemies will tremble by the very sight of our dreadful creations.

Our product are fully customizable to cater to your every need. Recently we have also succeeded into cross-breeding and introducing a third category gene, which is basically a super bitchy and homo genome known as “AnantChutiya”. The possibilities are endless. The road to future lies ahead. We gave you a vision and now we need you to support our dreams to be turned into realities. 

*with extracts from Ishaan*

Escalation of the Personal Nightmares: An encounter with the Hot Zombie Nurse

Cobb said, “Our dreams feel real while we are in them. It’s only when we wake up we realise things were strange”. For no time before any of the words from Inception had occurred to me and resonated throughout my skull with such a frequency as did the quotes from Godfather or The Dark Knight. But yesterday’s dream wasn’t just a diminutive vision of my hyperactive sub-conscious brain but a vision which felt like I was experiencing it. It was disturbing, horrifying and enough to establish the fact that I was going insane, maybe. Moreover I guess seeing dead bodies in your dreams is surely enough to leave you in a flight of disturbance and if by chance you tell someone that you saw a coaching centre with a creepy morgue beneath, it is enough to let the psychiatrist take care of you. A lot happened yesterday as far as I remember. May be things which shouldn’t have taken place or things which should'nt be expressed had got through yesterday. An escalated height of verbal frenzy, crazy manipulation, technological exploitation and the whole episode bound with scepticism and mistrust.  It’s funny how I couldn’t remember much of the last night episode and it feels like the yesterday never existed, like a day has been omitted from my life.

It was around 2am in the morning when I suddenly woke up by a troubling thought regarding my 500. I jumped from my bed and with a jolt rushed towards the balcony just to check if my motorcycle is there in the parking area. A sigh of relief when I saw her totally intact, wrapped beneath the cover. I came back to my bed, hit the pillow but couldn’t let go of the thought that whether I parked my motorcycle back inside when I came back last night or did I leave it outside the gate unlocked. It was awfully weird since there wasn’t a day when I had forgotten to park my 500 to her spot every time I returned home. But tonight I just can’t remember it. My mind said I had parked it safely while my brain kept on interpreting that I had forgotten to do so and I must make a check before I sleep again and so the rationality doubted the instinct and won over it as I rushed outside to confirm. However the night was still left and so was my journey into my own fantasy of personal nightmares. It all started around a time I cannot remember. I was back with a sling bag and a backpack at the same place I had so desperately tried to run away. I was wearing my blue Simpsons Tee and blue denim. But this particular place was where I had always thought I had left a part of me behind forever, a past which was dishonest and a constant struggle with someone who looked just like me but was a different entity in itself. He only existed in my head but yet his presence could be felt around that place. It felt like he existed only to serve a purpose when I was back at this place and as if he would project himself only when I was around this uncanny premise. I was actually back at my coaching centre where I was thrown two times by my overly concerned parents with some false hope that it would make me some kind of Harry Potter, but neither my parents were Lily and James Potter and certainly this place wasn’t any Hogwarts School of Wizardry. It was more like a moribund penitentiary where they teach  absurd concepts of Science to middle school kids and stuff the nubile brains of every dim-witted and average minded child like mine with bogus dreams and counterfeited hopes of becoming an IIT’an. This place was more like an Azkaban in my opinion and I was no less then a dreaded prisoner, Sirius Black, gravely misunderstood and wrongly convicted. And so it happened that I was back at my coaching place in my dreams only to realise it wasn’t exactly as I remember it to be. What I witnessed in my dreams was a colossal structure of bricks and concrete standing tall in the middle of a burning sky and smog filled city right in the middle of something which appeared as an industrial hub. I somehow ended up inside this giant edifice thinking what the heck I am doing here with a travel bag when I saw a swarm of kids walk right past me like flies buzzing in themselves. They happened to be the same kids with whom I would study even though I could hardly remember their names but those looks and those faces were like seared inside my head and now just itching to come out. I saw some of the faculties too whom I could just remember by faces. And then I saw Ronn beside me. We were trying to find an exit from this place but it looked like a maze in itself and no matter how much we tried we ended up in the same place back again. So Ronn and I tried to took a stairway when these kids past through us and I asked Ronn if he remembers these clowns. He said he don’t give a fuck about anyone of them and don’t remember anyone. It was weird because these kids I saw walking past me were from my first year in this place but Ronn only joined the centre from the second year. There was no way he could have known any of them.

The scene then shifted to another frame and a different setting. I was once again back inside the place but Ronn was not with me. I was there all by myself but I still was carrying my Backpack and a sling across my shoulders. I looked around me and it looked like I have somehow ended in some study area of this place. There were other kids and none of them I had seen before. There were some pretty girls around who looked too obsessed with their books. It was a quiet place as the only sound I could hear was of the occasional whipping of air from a ceiling fan. I tried to ignore everything else and started walking down a long staircase which winded up in some sort of basement. I followed it in some hope to find a way out but to my horror I ended up caught in a space which appeared right from Return to the House on the Silent Hill, a brick-shitting fucked up hospital filled with rotten corpses, nasty spirits, covered in blood spots and to add to my freaking situation in ended up right in front of a dead body on a stretcher as I ended up down the stairway. There were many rooms with flickering and dim lights and same bloody stuff could be seen everywhere. The zombie nurse was sleeping right on one of the stretcher at the door of a room. Sure she looked hot with her overdose of white foundation, black lips, blood on her lips and those scratch marks I was in no mood to mingle with a zombified nurse. Beside they were never my type and even before I knew I caught up a flight back up to another staircase and now ended up on a floor of some pregnancy ward of some decent looking hospital. But I was damned FUBAR from the scene that I paid no head and tried to find an exit from the place. I looked through a window across the stairs to figure out where the heck I am only to see a giant body lying open in a middle of a big space. That is the end of it and I ran like hell again climbing up through another stairs only this time I finally ended up outside the place somehow in some kind of industrial complex. The place was bustling with vehicles, the sky was still drenched in crimson red and there was smog around. I looked back again and saw the huge structure standing still as a reminder of some creepy and shady scene hiding in plain sight in the busy streets of some messed up city and like the place was smirking slyly back at me and whispering “No one will believe you”. Chills ran down my spines and I took my exit on the very first turn not even remembering I left home to buy some engine oil for my motorcycle.

Consumed by wanderlust

.................and this is what prompted me to convey my thoughts..


There is a sea, infinite and everlasting in it’s true form and there is a road, endless and stretched beyond the constraints of time leading to nowhere which passes through this infinity and divides it in two constituent. At one side lies the very element that a man deemed worthy of leading a comfortable and secure life is subjected to and which he believes to be the fundamental laws of nature to which he must oblige: family, respect, success, responsibilities, friends, love, luxury and comfort. Though it isn’t vicious in nature but it’s imperative. It restricts a man from looking beyond the perspectives of his own understanding of this composite world and holds him against the greater indulgent into himself. It directs and controls his every move and evaluates his every action.

The other side of this sea is owned by those elements which a man ever longs to achieve: a lust to get lost into this forgotten wilderness and somewhere into that wilderness an eternal craving to discover himself and his true purpose. The spirit of adventure, freedom of soul, unshackled constructs of mind, discovering the unknown are the elements which sum together to build a perpetuity that  exists beyond every concept of good and bad, right doings and wrong doings. It is enlightened and liberated in it’s nature rather than being authoritative but is it the factual approach one is making or is it just casting him away from the ground reality is a question that is a doubtful entity in itself surrounded by uncertainty. It scares a man, grips him with extreme fear of what may follow once he descends into this liberated part. He fears the great forces which he may unleash and might go beyond his control if he fails to manipulate the shear intensity and dominance.

Fear is known to man from the beginning of time. Every biological unit born in this universe struggles against his personal fears and it is a constant endeavour a man undertakes to overcome it. But as soon as he frees himself of one he is clutched by another. It is just an odd circle that will last throughout his lifetime. Fear like water does not exist in one state. It could take many forms and it could be anything that you want. It could either be a digresser or it could be a motivator. It could either lead you towards an impending doom or either it could unlock new trails. Both these worlds is filled with their own unknown fears. And in between the fears and anonymity of these imperative and uncertain halves of infinity, a man rides his motorcycle on the road which does not stray or turn. It is just a long narrow highway which keeps a man suspended between these two worlds. It keeps him balanced ideally and it will continue to do so. But no matter how discreetly that road serves its purpose it is like a thin string held between two loose ends which lie beyond the origin but still remains connected and ever if a man tries to wander off from his road he will end up in unfathomable depth of insanity and profundity of thoughtless void no matter what side he falls.

And motorcycle is what keeps him well- balanced between these worlds. It is his instrument of liberation. An excuse to shed the unnecessary burden he is carrying. It’s an escape route which he takes to flee away from the common hardships of the human existence to gather his wits and guts and continue his journey ahead.