I like sunsets, sunrise, chairs, compact tables, cats,
books, pages, nature, sparkling wine, scotch whisky and moving pictures. I
dislike dishonesty, disloyalty, lies, chattering mouths, deranged hands, torn
pages, heavy clouds, tears, and sometimes, the entire mankind. I despise
immorality, vice, felony, and the wrong. Even to this date, I remember
dismembering the society and squishing its limbs on the bright white marbles of
the patio in my house when I was just 16. I remember a tiny girl getting
maltreated by her father in front of the nonchalant eyes of the society. I
could feel my hands being enveloped by hot air, so was my temperament. And the
aftermath of this mind aghast compelled me into hurling a hefty piece of a rock
towards the man that resulted in a serious flow of blood under the scorching
sun’s watch. Till this day I am quite unsure and baffled as to why my parents
shoved me into the pit of a month’s house arrest and constant rebuke when all I
did was teach that burly man a lesson.
I haven’t seen that girl ever since. Nor that pungent
I heard a loud thunderous harsh rap on the door.
Something I wished someone would do the same on my life’s door. Well, surprisingly,
no one, in a span of 2 months, has knocked my door; leave alone with such a
“What makes a call roar so loud? The need for a
calling. Life does stifles us with such yawps and calls, ah, only if we listen
to the calling!” I murmured as I stood up to push my body against the lonely
whiffs of air that surrounded me and turn into a perfect ballerina, sway my
feet, jingle my hands and help my head make love with a corny stiffness. “Just
the way they do, just the way…”
As I progressed towards the door, it felt like the
door approaching me with a shade of apprehension. I could sense voices. Not
your average voices but the ones you hear where the mind is disturbed. How can
one keep his sanity in check when he is surrounded by an army of insanity?
“Let me tell you something. This tale is not about the
insanity that lingers outside, but it is about the insanity that lurks within.”
I heard the door creak for the first time. What
immodesty, what humiliation.
“Hello!” A familiar face with smile plastered on it
uncovered as my eyes gazed on the guest.
“Hello Mr. Gavin, how are you doing today?” I replied
to the smile and then the human.
Mr. Gavin is one of those run-of-the-mill neighbors
you would see slogging for five days a week across pavements to work and the
rest of the week skewing barbeques and raising temperatures all across the
neighborhood. We didn’t talk much for I had a lazy tongue to initiate an hourly
conversation with him. And the fact that his head reflected sun’s radiant lights
was something that had convinced me into thinking that this man would go on
spurting out amateur talks about office, barbecues and more barbecues.
Please don’t utter that word…
“Barbecues…” He said “I’m cooking barbecues. Maybe
come over and taste some? It’s a perfect weather to savor some!”
“No thanks Mr. Gavin.” I replied.
You see, barbecues are out of my tongue’s taste and
Mr. Gavin, out of my mind’s. A complete wreckage of taste for a different
“I have got immense work and my work station is
craving for an atrocious amount of attention.” That was my honest excuse,
which, I think has always put me in lucrative situations. I can’t expose the
bereavement and trauma in the form of negativity and free chants.
“Okay. Well, have you read today’s greatest
reporting?” Asked Mr. Gavin.
What do you mean when you refer to a reporting to be
specifically great? Almost all the reporting that have made their way to the
newspaper in a way are stalwart and equally deserving. You don’t catch a fish
by the neck, you consider the whole body. You don’t consider a lobster’s stalks
or the behemoth armor that hugs the crustacean; you consider the whole body to
call it a lobster in the first place. Likewise, you don’t fix your gaze to a
single reporting you extol the entire bunch. How foolish and derogatory of you!
“Umm, what piece?” I could feel the dryness on my
“The one that states Mr. Abercrombie is dead. It was a
complete shocker! Haven’t you gone through today’s issue?”
Of course I have you dimwit and what difference does
it make anyway?
“Yes, of course.” I replied. “Saddening and agonizing.
Truly. My heart goes with the family and to the ones chiefly concerned.”
Well, to be honest, almost my entire life has tasted
bittersweet relations and I have always witnessed myself being placed on the
pedestal of letting go. ‘The plinth of losses’ is what I have branded it. So,
it doesn’t make any sense to weep for the sands the esplanade has already
consumed. The waves are meant to be surfed not wept.
“Yes, mine too. What are you up to?” Asked Mr. Gavin.
My hand with the index finger stuck out flickered
almost in a slow pace that ultimately rested on the direction where the journey
ended at a torn down set of a radio, a partially opened newspaper and a piping
hot cup of cambric beverage.
“Ah, you’re busy, I see. No problem, carry on with
your worship. Drop by our house if you wish to, once you are free.” Mr. Gavin’s
parting words were unapologetically warm and kind. Parting steps alike.