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Diary of a werewolf: The Deaths

I was flung in the air as I pushed his body away with my legs and freed my claws from his chest. His claws left holes on either sides of my neck and I could feel myself weak from the bleeding from different parts of my body. My final vision was of a figure vanishing into the darkness of the woods but it wasn’t him I was worried about; it was me. I had been badly injured and my body had been pushing it till that moment when my foe was out of my sight. My eyes couldn’t stay open any longer and my body exhaled a final breath as I descended from the height of that hill into the water below. As my body hit the surface of the water, my body came to an almost halt but the descent continued. As I entered the water, I started to feel my wounds getting more painful. The deeper I sunk, the more pressure was exerted on my wounds and the more painful it became. My whole body was covered with wounds and consumed by exhaustion. I soon lost consciousness, even before reaching the bottom and I knew this was going to be the end.

I don’t know after how long or why or even how, but I woke up, gasping for air, suffering from pain which was unbearable, even for the beast. It felt like the water was piercing through every single wound I had on my body. The pain was piercing through my will to live. I tried, but I could not move; my limbs wouldn’t support me; my heart wouldn’t give up. I gasped for air and tried to move my limbs again but failed; again and again and finally gave up. It was futile to try. So I just lay there, waiting, gasping uselessly for breath till I died, which seemed better than the pain that I had to bear, better than the helplessness I had to bear.

But it wasn’t my time I guess, or maybe the beast wouldn’t give up, I woke up again, gasping for breath and yet again failing to breathe. I was wrong; this was worse than the pain. It felt like I was being denied the satisfaction of dying, over and over again. The same thing, again and again. I don’t know how many times it happened, I lost count nor was I in a state where I could keep count. What I remember is that it was painful, very painful, every single time, being denied the most basic need of even a monster, air. I remember my body settling for water instead of air before drowning every time. The darkness surrounded me and all I could feel was pain and Death. The pain is unimaginable when you see no escape, no relief, no hope. The pain is unimaginable when death comes to you over and over again. 

I must have died, because there is no other explanation for my body to have surfaced without being void of life. I woke up, again; this time, in my human form but I could recall the horror I had undergone. Even for a person as strong willed and with high tolerance as me, it was horrifying. I could swear I felt even the body of the beast shiver with pain. I felt it reaching me, the pain of the darkness and the death and the hopelessness and fear it caused the beast. It shivered before every death, fearing that it’ll wake up again and would have to undergo the same horror again. Chills ran through my spine as the visions came to me in flashes and I wrapped my arms around myself as I dragged myself towards home, thinking to myself that there was no way a man could’ve survived that. It was the beast who did that; coming back from the dead, fighting death and coming back to life, over and over again. But then again, a man only has to face death once, it was because of the cursed beast that I couldn’t even die in peace. It’s a curse after all.

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Posted by on November 29, 2017 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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The Wanderess

A laptop on the coffee table waited for her, along with the rest of her belongings. An old TV which was always there when she needed it, a bulky one seater sofa which resembled that she was all she had, a small wardrobe that held all of her moods and a laptop that she could never convince herself to switch off. It was a one bed room apartment in the outskirts of the city where the rent was cheap and which certainly cannot be called the most suitable place for a girl like her, young and beautiful. 

The doorknob turned and the door creaked open as she entered the apartment after a long day at work. That smile looked out of place on a tired face. She took off her coat and threw it at the wardrobe, probably expecting it to catch it. Her keys and her bag almost fell on the coffee table and she, on the sofa. She turned her face towards the laptop that had her list of mails on the screen and stared at the resignations she had sent over the years- all for one simple reason, because she was leaving the city; because she was moving.

She had changed occupations and workplaces more than a common man would have gone for vacations through out his lifetime. But it wasn’t about the occupation to her. It was about the life, a way of living, how you adjust to a given environment, in a given locality, in a given city, in a given state; in a given country. She had lived so many lives in that one lifetime of her’s; and this still wasn’t the end. She longed, for experiences, for novelty, for something that would be out of the ordinary, at least for her. She was like a tornado, blowing around, in a chaos, who didn’t want to come to rest. She wanted to get more from life than what it had to offer. She couldn’t think about staying, leading her life in a monotony, her whole life, in one place, with the same set of people, with the same routine, over and over and over for the rest of her monotonous life.

It was time again. She had stayed here for too long. Her last day at work, she had made it a point to say goodbyes to everyone she knew. Specially the ones who were closer to her; but she couldn’t stay back because of them: she loved herself a little more than she loved them.

She picked up her phone, took out the cover followed by the sim card and lay it gently on the coffee table. They’ll never get to see her again, she thought to herself. But she was used to it by now, all of it. The goodbyes, the pain of leaving, the memories of the people who cared about her; but she could never get enough of the excitement, of the anticipation, of the risks and the possibilities of the future. She touched the mousepad and reached for the inbox that showed a plus one. The first one was the appointment letter for her new job. She smiled, got up picked up her coat from the floor, her keys went inside the bag, and the bag on to her arm and she opened the door. A final glance she took, turning back at the apartment, which resembled the life she was leaving behind and closed the door after her. 

 
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Posted by on November 27, 2016 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Madness

He had been standing there for quite a while now, unable to understand anything; unable to see anything, but white. Yes, when you think about it, you realise that black cannot be the only colour you can relate with blindness! When you are standing there surrounded by nothing else but one single colour, you tend to lose the sense of distance between you and the last point till which you can see. At times, they overpower you; so much so that the boundaries seem to close in on you and you have nowhere else to go. It plays with your mind and your eyes, the colour; it drives you crazy. And all you want to do is to get out of it.

But this is new to him. It wasn’t like this. There used to be demons around. It wasn’t so lonely. The demons used to talk to each other and laugh at his face; stare at him, all at once. The things around him glowed, of different colours; and at times, it was very difficult to differentiate between things. He did not understand the world around him. It was so strange. There were times when the fireball above would disappear and things would stop radiating the light which hurt his eyes. But then the strange beings of the night would cry at nights and scare him enough to take his sleep away. Sleep, yes; it had been very long since he slept.

And then these demons, they caught him; brought him here, to this place which had no limits; and left him there, alone. There was nothing there; no demons, no angels, no one, nothing else either; not even walls. He ran. In one direction. But everything was the same. It felt as if he wasn’t even moving. But it did get him tired after a while. It’s harder to reach a place when you can’t see your goal; or anything else for that matter; you tend to give up sooner. And so he stopped. And looked around, again; failed to understand anything at all and sat down. He cried, for as long as he could and then closed his eyes. He was tired, so tired. But he felt something; someone standing near him. He opened his eyes and looked around. No one, nothing. The white seemed to hurt his eyes now. He screamed; and screamed, and screamed but heard nothing back, not even the echo of his voice. So he banged his head on the floor, harder and harder. All he wanted was to see was those demons now; the radiation of the colours from things, if only there were any. He banged his head harder on the floor, to see the little bit of red. But all it did was hurt and not make him bleed. He tried to scratch his face with his nails but it did not help either. So he placed his tongue between his teeth and banged his chin on the floor and shrieked with pain and then opened his eyes to see his blood on the floor. Red! Finally, a colour other than white. Something that made him smile. And while he smiled, he saw that red spread around him and cover every single inch of the white that was there. He turned around to take a look in every direction.

There was nothing around him. He just stood there, unable to understand anything; unable to see anything, but red!

 
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Posted by on August 7, 2016 in short story, Uncategorized

 

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Imprisoned

Theirs was just like ours; only, a lot different. They wandered, endlessly; among the heavens. No boundaries, no borders, no restrictions; not around the place they existed in, nor in their existence. They were knowledgeable; knew the secrets of the universe; aware of the purpose for their existence and yet again, they existed harmoniously; helping each other, loving each other; a sense of right and wrong, a sense of what should not be done, a sense of what they really are. Freedom was the essence that they thrived on. They were not bound by the limitations that we face. Such adventurous beings, always in search for adventure; who do not stop, do not rest, are not hindered by weariness; a perfect creation. They could do anything, be anywhere, at any time but the laws of nature should be not interfered with and so they existed in balance with the laws of nature, of the universe. But then again, there will always be the ones who are devoted to rebellions, who defy everything that has been and everything that should be. But a balance must be restored. And so it was done.
The ones who did defy; the ones who needed to be taught to mend their ways were punished, confined to being something much lesser than what they really were. Imprisoned in an astounding infrastructure which itself was a work of art; complete with characteristics that made every single one of them different from the other; each of them, unique. But of course, it is an imprisonment. Thus, infrastructures, filled with limitations. Limitations that were obscure to them since they knew themselves. Inability to exist so freely, in collaboration with the universe, at the mercy of nature. Reduced to something so less, so powerless. But that would be brutal, even for the defiant ones. To take away everything from one and yet confine him to something so much smaller than he has been his entire existence. After all, pain is harsher when it is followed by comfort. But this exceeds even the harshest of all. This would not be acceptable. So the memory of its true self had to be forgotten. And so it was done.
The prisoners were confined to something which was so much smaller than themselves, in every sense. They were bound by limitations; things that they could not do anymore, knowledge that could never be deciphered with the capacity that they possessed, a body which would get tired and wounded so easily, a body which was not immune of pain. Bound to live, and die, and follow the same course of growing and learning and forgetting and being forgotten, just like everyone else. Their limited vessels casted out by the rest, to suffer through a sentence fit for their crime, in the prison made specifically for them; a place they called ‘Earth‘.
And so they live their sentences, without knowing what wrong they had done, that they were outcastes or that this, is a prison in which they so happily live; and their bodies, which they so dearly admire, merely vessels, containing their larger selves. Unaware of the shrieks of the captured soul, silenced by such an ingenious technique of nature which cause the vessels to draw in air instead of the other way around. How limited their knowledge is that they do not even realize that the shrieks are viral only because the shrieks of one soul stirs the feelings of the other, reminding him of the freedom, of the limitlessness of their existence and yet again, they are devoid of the realization of that knowledge. How naively, they call them ‘yawns’.
How limited, their knowledge is, that they spend centuries deciphering the secrets of the very vessels that they occupy; its anatomy, its functions, its limitations. And yet, they fail to fully understand it. Not to mention the thousands of years that they have taken to even make themselves capable of trying to decipher their own selves. Not even realizing that the soul is a free being that is captured within this vessel filled with limitations. That every time it shrieks, it does so for the want of adventures that the vessels are incapable of fulfilling. Not knowing that all it takes to free his true self is to merely go through a certain pain; a certain pain of death, for death is merely a door to get out of this vessel, prove your worth and exist as you existed before, in your true form, in all its limitlessness.

 
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Posted by on April 9, 2016 in short story, theory

 

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Death

You see the good in life,
And then you see the bad.
You dream of a way of life,
A life you never had;
A life you never will have;
A life you never can have.

You dread the beauty
Of the things you hold bad.
You overlook the things,
The things, in life, you had.
You show your hatred;
You show your fear;
You curse the angel of death!
You curse it for taking you away;
For leaving the loved ones in dismay.
You hate him; for you cannot stay.
And you curse him for the things you cannot take.
But what of those, that you do get?

You think he is evil,
The most sinister of all.
For he came to take you,
When it was your call!

What of the years that he waited on you?
What of the moments that he let you live?
What of the memories that you made?
Years of time, did he not give?

Why not his patience do you count?
Why not his mercy do you see?
He came to take you before your time,
Could not that have been?

You leave this world with memories,
You leave people that you love,
Leave behind ones that love you,
Leave this world and rise above!
When all it could have possibly been,
A dead fetus that was never seen!

 
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Posted by on December 21, 2015 in poetry, Uncategorized

 

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Love Truly

A beautiful face with a golden complexion that literally shone in the sun. Hair that could defeat the darkness of the darkest of nights. A body that could be envied by the goddesses. She was perfect. “What do you buy someone who is that perfect?” he asked this middle aged man who stood on the other side of the counter. With a sleek figure, he stood almost in the perfect centre while his eyes ran a marathon across the showcases in the most expensive jewellery shop in the city; a place where one could find the rarest of stones, for the people who were closest to one. He was a decently earning man. Yet he had had to make his wishes wait because the wishes of the people you love always come before your own. “We’re about to close sir!” interrupted the person who had been waiting on him to choose that perfect gift for his perfect wife. “Can I have a few more moments?”, he requested with an expression that was hard to overlook or turn down. “Sure”, he had bought himself a few more moments, but the question remained, “What do you buy someone who is that….. ” there it was. A beautiful necklace that would be highly complimented by his wife’s neck, because nothing, according to him, could possibly compete with his wife’s beauty in his eyes or nearly represent the amount of love that he held in his heart for her. He was delighted, overwhelmed by this beautiful finding of his, that would make his dear Cassy, so happy. He could not keep himself from wanting to call her up and tell her that he’s got something special for her and that she should be ready for it. It had to be special. After all, it was their anniversary. How could he forget. He never did. She might at times because of all the work she had to look after at home and at her office but he, how could he. They had been in love for 2 years before finally getting married and it had been 2 more and oh! How happy he was with her. How he loved her. He just couldn’t think of a life without her.

He completed his transaction and rushed outside; jumped into his car, took out his phone and gave her a call. It rang till it got disconnected automatically. Working at an office isn’t an easy job after all. Why didn’t he think of it earlier! He could give her a surprise. Oh! How happy she would be and how she would blush. The red on her face would shine like the perfect apple from the garden of Eden. The engine roared and he drove off to see his beloved wife and the tyres screeched right before his house in excitement. He jumped off the car and ran to the door and suddenly stopped. All the excitement fading away including the smile from his face. How thoughts play with your emotions. He shrugged off all the negativity that had come upon him and gathered his smile back on his face again, took out a key from his trouser pocket and entered into the house yelling out her name, “Cassy! Cassy! Look what your baby’s got for you!” He heard a noise from his bedroom and shouted out again, “Baby?! Are you in the bedroom?” He heard the bedroom door shut as he was climbing the staircase that led to the section of the house where their bedroom stood with two other rooms out of which one was turned into a small office in which she would spend her time completing the works that she could not complete at the office. He stood right outside the bedroom door, his face white and furious and sad; holding the door knob he asked softly as if hoping to be wrong or wanting to avoid something, “Baby? Are you in there?”. He heard the nervous voice of his voice, “Baby I’m changing, Just 2 minutes.” His head bowed down he waited, as he heard noises coming out of the bedroom until finally the door opened and he saw her. How beautiful she was, how he loved her. She looked tired and out of breath. He took out the necklace out of his coat pocket and gave it to her. She opened it and hugged her out of joy. He held her in his arms, his whole world at once. That was when he saw a man’s watch on his bedside table and he closed his eyes as a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it off and asked her to get ready for the dinner. She went off with the necklace in her hand as he stared out the bedroom window that overlooked their backyard where he could see a silhouette of a man sneaking out. He stood there with his hands inside his trouser pockets and a heavy heart inside his chest. He just stood there without an expression, without a word or an action, staring out the window. He could not forget happy he was with her. How much he loved her. He just couldn’t think of a life without her.

 
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Posted by on August 30, 2015 in short story

 

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Alternate Lives

“I’m glad I went through all those miseries.”, he said half waiting for her to ask the reason.

“And why is that?”, she asked, just as he had predicted she would. She was a curious one; intelligent and fond of crazy theories just like him. He liked forming them, she liked listening to them; and they would have long discussions on concepts that may never exist; a whole world based on merely one single assumption. After such a long time, he had found her; someone he could be completely himself with.

“When I think about it, I’m glad I have you.”, he said and looked at her smiling through the corner of his eye. “Look, I have had so many choices over the years and I have taken so many decisions during the years that I have lived, right?”, he paused for her to understand, “And for every option that I had, my life could have been so different. So, for every single option that I left out, there would have a been a completely different life that I would have been living. A different life, if I did take the options that I left out.”, and his eyes stared at hers; begging them to understand what he was saying.

“Alternate way of living?”, she asked.

“Close.”, he smirked, “Alternate lives.”

She nodded. “So?”

“So what if, for every single combination of all the choices that you make in your entire life, there is a change in the life that you live. And what if every single one of these alternate lives is completely different from the other; and there can be unlimited combinations of choices, right?,” she nodded. “What if, for instance, this is the only combination of all the choices in my life for which I would have you in my life?”

“A coincidence then?”, she asked seriously thinking about it and glared at him through the spectacles that reflected her intelligence.

“Isn’t it?”

She merely nodded. So many thoughts going on inside her. What if he had never noticed her? What if he hadn’t told her that he had a crush on her? What if he hadn’t broken up with every single girl that he had ever been with in his entire lifetime? What if anyone of those relationships had worked out? What if everything hadn’t gone south in his life? How coincidental their love was. How coincidental this entire thing between them. How she would’ve meant nothing to him had it been for one different choice. The thoughts just wouldn’t stop. There is a downside to being intelligent. You just can’t stop thinking.

She slept with a heavy heart that night not knowing whether she should be grateful to fate or to be scared.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

And this time he did not go to that party which was on the night before his exams. He studied the entire night; and he did well.
He did not have to go into some crappy college; and this time, he went into a renowned one.

He boarded his usual train back home from college one day and as he was getting down, he stumbled into this beautiful girl who missed the train because of him. He kept apologizing, over and over again, and waited for the next train with her, to compensate for what he had mistakenly done.

She found it really sweet, he was in love with her beauty already too.

They fell in love.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

And this time he walked into a coffee shop with his friends; and they dared him to talk to the pretty girl who sat there with a book and a coffee on her table looking outside the glass window. A bunch of rich brats having fun; how typical.

He couldn’t just back off; so he went and stood right beside her table. He mumbled instead of talking and turned twice to look at his friends while standing and trying to talk to her. In a manner of joke, she gave him her number on the tissue she had on her table; just play a prank on those rich brats who had created a mess in the coffee shop.

He thanked her a million times over the phone that evening for not making him look like an idiot in front of his friends. The evening talks grew longer and the drifted through the nights. They slowly grew fond of each other.

They fell in love.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

And in this one; his first love had just broken up with him and he had no one to go to anymore. He was in tears and heartbroken and did not know what to do with his life anymore. He was devastated and alone.

His first love’s friend genuinely thought that he was a very nice guy and that he never deserved this. No one deserves to be heartbroken. Or maybe she just couldn’t bear to see anyone in pain. So she consoled him and told him that he would find the right girl and that maybe she wasn’t the one.

She was right. Her friend wasn’t the right girl. She was. It took them some time to realize it, but they eventually did.

They fell in love.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

For every choice that he made, there was an alternate life. Thousands of choices and thousands of lives; and he had her for himself in every single one of them. In every single one of them, they were together.

 
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Posted by on April 28, 2015 in short story

 

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