Monday, February 13, 2012

Stupid Mistakes

A shrill screech was the last thing I'd heard.
I'd passed out after.
I woke up against all odds to find that I was surrounded by people.
'Dont move' they screamed together like an untrained choir.
They shouted it again and again, and maintained a safe distance from me.
My passive mind picked up on their anxiety and I obeyed by n0t moving a millimeter.
My father stepped forward and explained the situation.

' He was here son, but dont worry they got him. He's dead now, he came back for you, but he's been punished. But, I am afraid that he may have done some permanent damage.'
He hesitated a little and said

'Its very essential that you dont move because your face has been cut right through the middle. The good doctor will explain the rest.'

They were well prepared for this explanation, made me wonder how long I'd been out.

The good doctor, a man in his 40's with prematurely greying hair and a thin frame, stepped forward.

He said,

' You see young man, what we have here is unintended perfection. The perfect cut. Do not misunderstand me, but I can not not admire the art.

The big bad man, used a laser to cut through your face. It is a plane cut, angled at 30 o t upwards from the front, starting above your lips. The laser has cut right through your maxillary, palatial, sphenoid and occipital bones succesfully emerging from the back of your head, however as is common experience in life when plastic sheets stick to wet surfaces, all the blood vessels are in alignment and those which are'nt have been cauterized by the laser. A miracle indeed. Your face is being held in place by your mere lack of movement. Even the tiniest action could cause your face to split into two.

I suggest young man that you neither move, talk, eat nor drink, until a solution is thought of.
The brightest minds have been called forth to brainstorm so worry not, a solution will be reached.'

I did as asked of me and for three days I lay still. People came, people went. I became a scientific subject for some, a doomed relative for others and a horrific tale for the rest.

The fourth day, thirsty and hungry to the bone I was, when the good doctor came back.
He said, ' Young man, we have found a way to make you live. It is simple and painless and a permanent cure. You shall receive treatment from tomorrow. The world is good again.'

Joy surged through me like a roller coaster and I stood up and jumped as high as I could.

When I fell, I wasnt the same, I felt my plane of vision rotate and I landed in a pool of my own blood.

My body lay a few inches in front.

Friday, February 3, 2012

The Unnatural

Unnatural bouts of fear.
Perceived movement on the other side of my bedroom window.
Randomly fluttering curtains.
Feeling observed.

Dead dog, in my living room.
Dead birds on the roof.
A vial of white pills.
Neither placebo nor cure.

A man in a white coat.
Ladies in green.
All eyes fixed on me.

White environment.
A room merely declared as solitary.
Loneliness yet I dont feel.

Bed, Mirror and the loo.
Morning, noon and night.
Dead by morning.
Unnatural hands, the harbinger of my doom.

Unnatural death.
Fractured hyoid.
Self strangulation they say.
Physicians devoid of physical perception,
declare dead yet another mysterious person.

But, hardly anybody asks for my side of the story.
I performed the unnatural.
But I wasnt me.


Depersonalization disorder (DPD) is a dissociative disorder in which the sufferer is affected by persistent or recurrent feelings of depersonalization and/or derealization. Diagnostic criteria include persistent or recurrent experiences of feeling detached from one's mental processes or body. The symptoms include a sense of automaton, going through the motions of life but not experiencing it, feeling as though one is in a movie, loss of conviction with one's identity, feeling as though one is in a dream, feeling a disconnection from one's body, out-of-body experience (a detachment from one's body), and difficulty relating oneself to reality and the environment.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Other Worlds I

The two clans were almost unaware of each other's existence.
They even saw the world in different light.
The Neari were like noctuelles, adapted to the moonlight.
The Samar were like birds, the life of day.

Yet they inhabited but the same land, ate the same fruit, hunted the same creatures
and were hunted by the same beasts.

Like most early people both clans worshipped everything around them, the earth, the wind, the rivers, the animals and the sky, sharing a very sophisticated relationship with nature, yet possessing merely simplistic drives.

They say the most beautiful part of a river is the estuary; that of an ocean, the beach; that of music, where melody meets silence and that of a painting where colour meets space.

Every year, during the eclipse when day becomes night, the Neari who had attained their adoloscence would come out from their hiding, so would the Samar.
Temporarily blinded by the gold and silver rays, they would engage in the most blissful activity known to them, moans and cries of pleasure would silence the birds and all other creatures of Earth.
They would then return to their hiding, never to talk about the happenings during the eclipse, silently believing that they had experienced god.

Then came the ice age.

Note : 'Possibility' is a very intrinsic term in human life, drawing from recent understandings and developments in theoretical and experiential physics it seems that any scenario is actually possible. The situation described in this story may very well be the reality in some other universe, defined by a different set of rules. Our science, their magic.