A.D.D

Sometimes I wish… if I could just pluck my head off my body and shake out all the filth and then plug it back on my neck. Memory is a tricky contraption… complicated and often times unsafe. If only there was a ‘clear history’ option. It feels like I’m in a never ending game of Pac-man forever chased by thoughts I want to be rid of and endlessly eating up new ones in the path, getting fatter by the second.

“Oh! Isn’t that one delicious looking thought… I’m gonna eat it… yum!!! Oh.. Oh.. there’s another one… but I’ve not really swallowed this one…oh.. hmm… Fuck it! I’m eating this one too… (burps) Shit! I’m getting too fat for my skull.”

Sometimes there’s a power outage and I wander in the dark through the maze. I’m in some strange corner when the power’s back and there’s an awkward rendezvous with an ex-thought.

Me: Hey! (Awkward Pause)… Uhh.. Long time no see! How have you been?

She: (Death Stare!)

Me: Uhh.. so.. what’s going on in your life? Anything exciting?

She: (Sarcasm loaded tone) Nothing much you know.. I’m still in that mid-thoughtgasm where you left me an year ago… but I’m allright… How about you?

Me: Uhh… (Awkward pause… build up of sexual tension… breaking point… frantic lovemaking… Full on thoughtgasm! Like multiple!!)

Oh.. and then there are some really bitchy ones.. Nasty thoughts that you know aren’t good for you.. but you’ve been celibate for a while and can’t resist the temptation… and you allow yourself to be seduced by her big thoobs (yeah! I just invested a blend word from thoughts and boobs)… and you sleep with her… and then you feel like shit when you wake up and realize what you’ve done… and you run away shamefaced.

Sometimes you know… influenced by libertarianism and free love and all that shit you know… I’ve been in an thorgy (last one I swear!) or two… okay, maybe more… what!? Don’t give me that look! Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about that shit.. well, anyways… those were some crazy experiences… you don’t know who is going down on you or who’s straddling you… you feel like youre having a vision…  too many are on you at the same time… and then it gets too much for you and you climax and pass out!

Beyond…

Okay you hide then. I’ll count to ten and then come looking. Don’t go too far…

One… Two… Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine………….. Ten! Ready or not here I come.

Palms over face I stood listening. He was near. I could hear him. His breath full of excitement… quiet giggles… twigs breaking under his feet.

I can hear you, you know. You’re making it way too easy. I’ll count to ten once more. Find somewhere better to hide. One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine………….. Ten!

Silence……….

I listened… seconds ticking away… no sound of him. I took my palms off and opened my eyes. A maze of giant trees greeted my sight. Trunks so huge it was almost like I was walled inside. I looked up. The dense canopy let through only thin slivers of light… not enough to find him. A hundred trees blocked the path in every direction. I stood there indecisive and still. It’d never been this way before. He was terrible at this game. It hardly took me a minute to find his hiding place. And then he’d ask me to close my eyes and count again. But this time… this time there was no sign of which way he went… no shoe trail… no hushed giggles. It was getting darker by the second now and I couldn’t make up my mind on which way to go looking. If I went the wrong way I risked us both getting lost. I’d stay I decided. I’d stay here for he couldn’t have gone far. I sat down beneath a tree and my mind started counting.

One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine…………..

And I counted… I counted till the highest number I knew. And then everything went dark.

Somewhere else, in another world, a heart monitor fell flat.

Sunsets and Sketches...

There was something elusive about sunsets which made it impossible for him to recreate it on paper. The girls he’d been with told him maybe he should use colours. He didn’t think so. He had in his drawing book sketches of countless landscapes he’d done in pencil and it never bothered him that he didn’t capture the colours brimming in them. There was a simplicity in his sketches which was profound in its own… but not sunsets. He never could render it’s magnificience faithfully on paper. It was not the lack of colour he felt. A sunset didn’t need many colours. Using colours won’t make it any better, he told himself. It was something else that was missing… and he hadn’t figured it out yet. So everyday he’d stuff his shoulder bag with his tools… pencils, a whole lot of them… 4H, H , HB, 2B, 4B, 5B… an eraser and a few drawing books… and walk along marine drive till his mind’s eye agreed with the vantage point… and then he’d wait… for the sun to start drowning in the horizon. Once it did, he’d take out his books and pencils and lose himself in it… till he looked up and didn’t see the sun anymore.

It was no different today. Once the sun had deserted the horizon, he put his pencils back and picked up his work. He’d chosen to draw in one of his bigger books today. He held it up and looked… just looked… kept looking at it for a long time… his face a mask… betraying no emotion... his frame still… it seemed he wasn’t even breathing. Long after the sky turned black and the stars came out, he put it down and let out a sigh. Today was not the day he got his sunset. Lost in dismay he closed his eyes and consoled himself… One day I’ll get it right… he thought. He opened his eyes and welcomed the sights around him. To either side of him marine drive stretched endlessly in a curve… streetlights alive all along… like someone had put on a golden necklace on the Arabian sea. He took it all in… the vehicles racing by, the high rises, the windows on them, the lights in them, a billion people doing a billion things under the lights… this city never slept.

He gathered up his things and stood up. He tore up his interpretation of the day’s sunset from his book and left it there where he had sat… and started walking. He never kept anything which was less than perfect. The wind would blow it into the sea and it would drown to fathoms below like the sun did a while ago… or a peanut seller would find it and use it to wrap peanuts without even looking at it once… he didn’t put much thought to where it would end up. He had left so many sunset sketches behind he didn’t care anymore. It was an imperfect piece of art and it would find it’s final resting place in some imperfect grave.

**********

He’d walked some thirty feet or so when he remembered he’d left the eraser where he sat. He turned around and retraced his steps… all the while thinking about the next day’s sunset. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a woman sitting where he was a few minutes ago… a girl actually… she had his sketch in his hands and was studying it intently… the scarf around her neck being blown around by the breeze coming in from the sea. He couldn’t see her face from where he was… she was wearing a white sleeveless top and a sky blue skirt… or was it denims… he started walking towards her… it was a skirt infact… sky blue with some silver patterns… he liked it, it was pretty. He approached from behind… she was still studying his sketch. He looked over her shoulder at the sketch he’d discarded… did she see something in it which he didn’t? he searched… but a streetlight behind had cast his shadow onto it and she turned to see this tall, lanky guy hovering over her. She didn’t flinch. He stared unsure… detecting maybe the hint of a smile held back by force on her face.

‘ I forgot my eraser ‘, he broke the silence between them. She searched around her for a few seconds and held it up for him when she found it. He took it from her and put it inside his bag. He looked at her again. She was beautiful… slightly darker shade of brown… bespectacled… yet the eyes beneath speaking volumes… thin, a little too thin perhaps… like himself he thought. A few more moments of silence later he looked away and started to walk. Two small steps later he heard a voice as sweet as honey drift towards him asking ‘ Why do you leave them behind? ‘. Stumped as he was by the question, the revelation within it was not lost on him. ‘ Them? ‘, he asked looking back at her. She didn’t realize her slip and stared at him. ‘ You said them, not it, which if I know my grammar correctly is a plural. ‘, he said. Comprehension dawned on her and she couldn’t hold back a blush. ‘ I, uh.. ’, he saw her struggle with the explanation and thought he should put her out of the misery… he said, ‘ Have you been stalking me stealing my sketches? ‘, a grin evident on his face.

‘ I didn’t steal them. You left them behind. ‘, she had a sheepish look on her face. ‘ So you thought you could take them? ‘, he asked amused by this beautiful girl in front of him. She didn’t speak. ‘ How many do you have? ‘, he continued his interrogation. ‘ Six. ‘, she said after a long pause. He wasn’t expecting that and found himself at a loss for words.

Who is this girl? Why does she keep my sketches? What more does she see in them than I do? How could a discarded piece of an unsuccessful attempt at art be of more importance to a stranger more than the artist? His mind was crowded with questions… but he didn’t voice them. He didn’t want to intimidate her with more questions… and he was a little weary of the answers he might get. So he said, ‘ it’s okay, you can keep them. ‘. The relief that showed on her face at that flowed over to his… but shortly paved way to a new dilemma… What do I say now!

He needn’t have worried for she spoke, ‘ There’s a Mc D over there… are you hungry? ‘

**********

Relapse

Even before my eyes opened to the light of the new day, her fragrance welcomed me to it… then I felt her cheek on my chest… smooth strands of her hair on my shoulder… her body pressing on mine in a warm embrace. Waking up with her in my arms inspired an overwhelming sense of being alive… like escaping from a cold closed cave into a meadow in spring. Lying there, listening to her breathe… so serene… so effortlessly beautiful… time coming to a halt in the stillness between each breath… and then ticking by again with the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Pushing aside hair which fell down on her face I traced a finger from her forehead to behind her ears.

‘You awake?’ , I asked her in a whisper, running my thumbs in a curve from cheek to chin. ‘Hmmm’, she murmered. Slowly she woke up… moving her arms and legs… slowly disentangling them from mine… sitting up… stretching her arms above her head. She opened her eyes to let in the morning light which slipped in through the curtains as she stretched… and then she looked back at me over her shoulder.

My eyes met her’s and I saw a thousand emotions playing out in them… competing among themselves for the right to be in them. I wish I knew what they were. I searched desperately for the ones I was expecting… conviction… a faith bereft of any doubt… decision... but my eyes were greeted by waves of apprehension… remnants of last night’s lust, diminished by hesitation. I felt all the hope I’d mustered wither away… cold numbness spreading out from deep within… but I held it in. I wouldn’t let her see the pain. I’d never let anyone see my pain.

I forced a smile on my face to reassure her that everything was going to be alright. I was not sure it would but had to pretend to ease her worries. Sitting up, I reached out and took her face in my palms and kissed her. Her lips were lifeless as they blended with mine... no hint of last night’s passion. She was distant. I felt as if a wall had been built to keep me away… she wanted to be as far away from me as possible.

**********

She remained in bed and watched me as I looked for my clothes on the floor. Nothing was spoken as I put them on and walked out of the motel room. I fished out a smoke from my jeans and walked to the reception for a lighter.

Smoke filled my lungs… the heat from it seeping in… slowly clearing out the numbness that had enveloped me. I walked off aimlessly… thoughts muddled by all possible consequences and the uncertainity of it all.

I took out my phone. The screen flickered to life and showed ‘ 7:00 am, Saturday ‘. I had 12 hours… and a decision I had to make. I could end it today… and not see her again. It was the right thing to do. It was what I should’ve done yesterday… and the morning before that… and the one before that… save myself from a heartbreak every morning since that first morning fifteen days ago… save her from the guilt in being the cause for it… but I hadn’t. A feeling of loss gripped me as it dawned on me that I was going to do it today. All my hope had been burned to ashes. There was nothing to hold onto anymore.

I put out the smoke and walked back to the motel. The girl at the reception stared at me as strode in. I walked past her towards the room. I stopped at the door preparing myself for what I was about to do. A part of me wanted to run away and disappear… and forget everything that had happened… forget her. It would be easier.

Somehow it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. So I opened the door to tell her it was over but found the bed empty. She was gone. Her fragrance hung in the air as I approached the bed where I’d made love to her a few hours ago. It was exactly how it was when I’d left her there and gone out for a smoke… except for a folded piece of paper which now sat in the middle. With a steadily escalating sense of foreboding I picked it up and unfolded. In hurried letters she had written…

“ It was a mistake. It would kill him if my husband found out. I love him. I am sorry. “

**********

I woke up hungry and my head hurt. I had fallen asleep with her letter in my hands. I put on my jacket, took the keys and walked out. The girl at the reception was staring at me again. I had overstayed and she hadn’t woken me up. I thanked her and went to where I’d parked my car. I checked my phone as I got in… ‘ 6:30 pm, Saturday ‘ it showed. Without thinking I drove to the diner a couple of streets down the road. I sat down at the far corner and ordered ribs and a beer.

There weren’t many people around. This was where I ate most nights. It was quiet here. It was here, on a quiet evening like this that I’d met her first. It was 7 in the evening… I still remember, quite vividly, her walking in through the door… in a red dress. She looked unsure… as if she’d come to the wrong place. She stood deciding for a moment and then walked to the bar counter. I was watching her from the same corner where I sat now. I waited. A couple of other guys were also watching her. She had ordered a beer and sat at the counter drinking it. I waited more. She had almost finished the beer and still none of the men had approached. I stood up and walked towards her not sure what I was going to say to her.

I sat down beside her at the counter and asked, ‘ Can I buy you another one? ‘. She’d smiled. We both sat there drinking I don’t know for how long. We didn’t talk much. After the third beer I’d asked her, ‘ Do you wanna get out of here? ‘. She didn’t answer for a while and let the question hang in the air. I felt I should let it go… but out of the corner of my eye I saw her hands fiddling… there was a ring on her finger. I should have got up and left then… but I just sat there and waited. In that moment it seemed inconsequential that she was a married woman. I waited… till she said, ‘ Okay let’s get out of here.’ The ring was not there on her finger when she got into my car a couple of minutes later.

The waitress brought the ribs and beer and broke my reverie. I checked the phone again… ‘ 6:55 pm, Saturday ‘. Only five minutes left, I told myself. The feeling of loss I’d felt in the morning was creeping back in. Do not think about her! I was sweating. I took a swig of beer and closed my eyes. Do not think about her!  When I opened them again everything was a blur. ‘ No. No. Not tonight. Not again. She will never be yours. ‘, I muttered in between labored breaths. I tried to concentrate rubbing my eyes and opening them again. Don’t do this. You can’t live like this. You’ve got to move on! The ribs and beer in front of me, the table… all were slipping away… into a black void. It seemed like I was falling into it. I stopped breathing. She will always go back to her husband… no matter how many times you relive the day. She loves him. I saw hazy shadows floating by as my mind tried to catch up with the backward flow of time. The last rays of light left my eyes and darkness devoured me.

**********

She will always go back to her husband… no matter how many times you relive the day. She loves him. The words were ringing in my head when I opened my eyes again. Slowly, the table in front of me came into view. The ribs were gone but an almost empty beer bottle was there. I fished out my phone from my jacket and checked… ‘ 7:00 pm, Friday ‘. I looked up from my phone towards the bar counter… and my eyes caught red.

**********

Comatose

I closed my eyes and dreamt

Walked to the edge of consciousness, then leapt

Fell a thousand feet, or rose that much, I forget

Hit neither ground nor sky, into nothingness I was swept

Time made no sense, a false concept

Space felt like an illusion, of any meaning bereft

Seemed like nothing existed, not now nor ever, but yet

Of movement I was aware, and the beats in my chest

Laurels won, wealth amassed, stripped of their worth

Promises made, revenge planned, stripped of their zest

Left with no principle to abide by, no reason to exist

Inside my own dream, I closed my eyes….......

And slept.

Deceased

Witness. Mute Spectator. Paralyzed. Silent onlooker.

Observing everything. Good and evil.

Not participating. Not preventing.

Not appreciating. Not discouraging.

Passive.

Tired. Yet aware. Awake.

Often disgusted. Sometimes elated. Transient.

Never enough to last. Nearly impervious.

Who’s right? Who’s wrong? Does it matter? Who cares?

Indifferent.

Still watching. Eyes wide open. Day after day. What's trending? Incidents. Deaths.

Till it’s your turn.

Then……………… Deceased.

The Hill

The hill had ears… it knew all our secrets… it listened to us sharing them... we knew it did… because of the winds… it was windy up there… almost always... noisy winds... but it would hush up when any of us opened up to the others about something… it liked secrets… we didn’t mind the transgression… we knew our secrets would be safe with it… it wouldn’t let the winds carry them away to people who weren’t supposed to know them… we trusted it like we trusted each other.

The ride up there was not easy. Halfway up we had to get off and then walk the rest of the slope pushing our bicycles along. We didn’t remember why we started going up there. There was nothing up there. An old tree… so old it didn’t have any leaves. It had strong roots though… part of which was above the ground. We would lie down and rest in the little cradles between the large branching roots once we reached there. No one would talk for a while. We would listen to what the winds were saying… and they had a lot to say. They’d tell us about the other people who went up there. They said a man would come on Sundays. He’d drink toddy and cry and curse. It was where he used to meet with his lover… long before any of us were even born. They didn’t marry… she died… before he could ask her. But he still came here… remembering… grieving… drinking… forgetting.

The hill had immense wisdom. It knew thousands of stories. It was there for thousands of years. It had met thousands of people. People who found time to go up there and tell their stories… like us. It taught us about love, loyalty, lust, longing and a lot of things. It taught us to fly. Once we were done listening to its stories and done telling it ours, we would take our bicycles to where the downslope began. We’d get on and then look down at our village. The winds would caress our faces… telling us not to worry… not to be scared if we’d fall. It’d tell us to let go… and we would. Kicking off the ground we’d race downhill… so fast that our heartbeats would echo in our head… so fast that people who saw us would call us crazy… and reckless. But they didn’t know what it felt like to fly… they didn’t… they were too old for that… we weren’t. When we sped down the hill on our bicycles, the wind lifted us off the ground into its arms like it did with the birds… and we’d fly.