Saturday, March 21, 2009
Kaash
And the Heart bleeds on…
I sat there—motionless and blank, half-lying, half-awake. I’ve no idea how long I’ve been here; it’s hard to say when every passing moment feels like a lifetime. 
When a man reaches this point, there’s nowhere to go from here, nothing to do to make a change, and surely nothing to hope for—except the ‘End’.
How did I get here? I can’t really track my memories back to when I lost my sight and that first lane where I took the wrong turn. A couple of blind moves, and then Life takes over you. In all her bitter brutality, she throws you into a dungeon; one like those that you had seen and mocked with utter conceit in your days of ignorance. Sitting in a dark corner of this dungeon, I guess, I’ve started to realize what humility is and why the good-old-books put so much stress on it.
This place stinks. Like a python, it constricts your lungs further with every breath you take. The only way to keep the breath alive is to stop breathing itself; but alas, if I had the courage to do that…I won’t have been here in the first place.
The good-old-books also say that one has the power to overcome every situation and get out of it. But I’ve been incapacitated to even do that. I was shot right in my heart—it must have been Life who did that. There’s no one else here in this dungeon. It has to be Life herself, because she created this dungeon exclusively for me; this dungeon won’t be a dungeon if you could share it with someone. She shot me and left me bleeding here in the dark.
In the middle of all the thoughts, I looked down at my chest. There it was…a small black hole burnt in my skin. Every few seconds I feel a rush of blood building within and the blood sputters out in short bursts. The bullet is still in the heart; I can feel its presence. The heart grows heavy with every passing moment, but the ‘End’ is far. I feel like a soldier wounded and lying on the enemy grounds; he who is incapable to move and incapable to speak, he who waits for an enemy soldier to come and pour the final shower of bullets and bathe him in his own blood; he who wishes for a tombstone instead of lying as wasted corpse and dead meat for ants.
I look up again into the darkness around and a realization dawns. As if all this cruelty wasn’t enough, before she left, Life had also given me back my sight, the one I lost before taking that ‘first’ wrong lane. And with this sight, she left me to look back and regret and think…”Kaash…”
When a man reaches this point, there’s nowhere to go from here, nothing to do to make a change, and surely nothing to hope for—except the ‘End’.How did I get here? I can’t really track my memories back to when I lost my sight and that first lane where I took the wrong turn. A couple of blind moves, and then Life takes over you. In all her bitter brutality, she throws you into a dungeon; one like those that you had seen and mocked with utter conceit in your days of ignorance. Sitting in a dark corner of this dungeon, I guess, I’ve started to realize what humility is and why the good-old-books put so much stress on it.
This place stinks. Like a python, it constricts your lungs further with every breath you take. The only way to keep the breath alive is to stop breathing itself; but alas, if I had the courage to do that…I won’t have been here in the first place.
The good-old-books also say that one has the power to overcome every situation and get out of it. But I’ve been incapacitated to even do that. I was shot right in my heart—it must have been Life who did that. There’s no one else here in this dungeon. It has to be Life herself, because she created this dungeon exclusively for me; this dungeon won’t be a dungeon if you could share it with someone. She shot me and left me bleeding here in the dark.
In the middle of all the thoughts, I looked down at my chest. There it was…a small black hole burnt in my skin. Every few seconds I feel a rush of blood building within and the blood sputters out in short bursts. The bullet is still in the heart; I can feel its presence. The heart grows heavy with every passing moment, but the ‘End’ is far. I feel like a soldier wounded and lying on the enemy grounds; he who is incapable to move and incapable to speak, he who waits for an enemy soldier to come and pour the final shower of bullets and bathe him in his own blood; he who wishes for a tombstone instead of lying as wasted corpse and dead meat for ants.
I look up again into the darkness around and a realization dawns. As if all this cruelty wasn’t enough, before she left, Life had also given me back my sight, the one I lost before taking that ‘first’ wrong lane. And with this sight, she left me to look back and regret and think…”Kaash…”
