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The Power

So he came out of this old hangout place high on all the stresses of the world. He had started to be like that all the time now, probably after he had to resign; maybe that was the reason for all his worries, but then again, he was like this even when he did have that not so highly paid job. But it’s easier to live by when you have something instead​ of nothing at all. His head hung, maybe because of the weight of the millions of thoughts that ran through his head. He had a family to look after, some promises to keep, some debts to clear; and some other things that he wanted to do for himself too. He had nowhere to go. He turned his head towards the dead end on the right as he walked out of the noises and the light, into the darkness and dumbness of his life and waited for a few seconds to stare at the wall at the end of the alley. How spontaneously your mind connects your life with the random things like a dead end : nowhere to go! So he turned his face to the other side and started to walk out of the alley when he heard someone call his name and it had been a very normal thing had the voice not come for the dead end of the alley. He turned to have a glance. An aged man with grey hair, in a shirt and trousers stood there with his hands in his pocket, looking at him and smiling.

” Do I know you?”, He almost mumbled.

“You do know me. But you don’t know that it is me.” The old man said with an unimaginable calm on his face.

“What is that supposed to mean? Who are you?” He spoke, losing to his irritation.

He smiled and started to walk towards him, crossed him and stopped at the mouth of the alley where it opened into a street and turned to look at him, “It’s going to take a little long for you to understand that. Care for a walk?” He said raising his hand towards the street and covering his face with an inviting smile. To his surprise, he felt all of his irritation go down just like that and he felt calm. He walked on.

They took the street and started to walk on the footpath. The old man and himself walking beside each other, the former with a smile on his face and facing the world in front of him, the latter with a frown on his face, his head bent looking at the ground. He lifted it though, to feel the jealousy that arose in him from the serenity on his face. But that wasn’t strange. What was strange was the quietness that filled the street. There were no cars on the street, no people walking, no noises coming from the TV sets in the apartments on either side of the street or any noise for that matter. It was like the world had lost its sound; except for the sound of their shoes clicking on the concrete. It was strange for this time of the evening. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” The old man broke the silence that prevailed.

He came out of his reverie and asked, “What?”

“You’re finding it strange, isn’t it? The silence. Don’t you like it?” He asked as if he had created this silence specially for him so that he would be more comfortable. 

“No, it’s fine. But it is strange that it is so quiet at this hour of the day” he said raising his hand to look at the time on his wrist and then he let it has hand go back to rest beside him. 

The old man turned his head to look at him with a mild smile on his face, “How ignorant you all are, how naive. How smoothly you let things pass by without even noticing. It has been so long and yet..” he shook his head slowly, “You all have such a long way to go!”

He looked at him as he spoke, bewildered. He didn’t understand a thing that he said. “What are you saying? Look man. I don’t have time for this. I have other things to attend to…”

“Your wife and your daughters? I know! And don’t you worry about the time son. You’re not going to be late. It’s not in play right now.”

“How do you even know about my daughters and my wife? And what’s not in play?” He was starting to get frustrated now.

“The time. The time is not in play right now son. You looked at your watch a few moments ago and you did not even realize that your watch wasn’t working. But it’s not your watch that’s not working; it’s the time.”

He frantically raised his hand again to look at his watch and saw that he was right, it wasn’t working and then he started looking here and there, everywhere around him. He could se no one, he could hear nothing; and that is when he realized that the place wasn’t only silent, it had just become still, it had just stopped.

“Calm down, son. Everything is alright.” He said with a face so calm that it made him calm. “You may not know that it is me but I know who you are. I know you all; each one of you. I have created you.”

“Are you… NO! How can that be? How is that even possible! You’re only a man!”

“This!” He said, placing a finger on his own chest, “is a man! I, am his creator.”

“No that’s not possible. How is it possible! How can God be like this, like a man.”

” I am not. But then again, according to you, how would God look like? Or who is God? What is God?”

He stopped, unable to give an answer. He stopped walking. The old man stopped after two more steps and turned to look at his bewildered face. “You don’t have to be like that. Come, walk with me.” And started to walk again. He caught up with him not understanding why he was doing so.

He tried to be calm and composed himself, his expressions, his gestures, everything normal but his breath which he couldn’t stop from being fast. “So you’re God?” He asked with a mixed expression on his face.

The old man looked at him with a smile and nodded with his eyes closed for a moment. 

“But you’re not…”

“The way you imagined me to be?” He said half mocking him and continued. “How childish you all are, even in the most mature age of yours. The concepts that you make about things you know nothing of. I must say, at times, I find it adorable.”

“I don’t understand a thing! I’m so confused!” He said holding his head between his palms.

“I don’t expect you to, son. You can not. You’re too young to understand the power, the mysteries of the universe. There’s so much for you to learn to make yourself capable of even understanding what I have so beautifully created for all of you. You still haven’t understood the mysteries of your own world. You still have a long way to go.” He explained each and every single word clearly to him and continued again, “But how exactly did you think I would be?”

“I don’t know.” He said with hesitation, “huge maybe, with white hair and beard and sitting on a throne; with angels around you to serve you.”

“Well that’s an interesting one, but you thought​ of me as having a body? You imagined me to have an appearance like you, so that you could relate with me.”

“Is that wrong?” He asked.

“Not on your part. No. If it gives you the comfort you require. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I had to come to you in this body of this man; so you could talk to me, be comfortable. Just like I made it silent and stopped the time for you.”

“For me?” He asked, surprised.

“Of course. You’re special. Each one of you. I have created you with so much of love and compassion. Don’t you know that? I created the whole universe for you. I gave you this Earth, made it exactly suitable for you all, so you could live. I designed the universe in such a way that you may not feel the lack of anything. I have worked so hard for you all, because I love you.”

“So you’re not the way we imagine you to be?” He asked confused.

The old man laughed, “No son. Not at all. You think of me as a being. A being has to be born to exist. Isn’t it?”

He agreed.

“But I didn’t take birth. I have always been there. I have always existed.”

“So how long have you been there for? And where? Since there was nothing there before you made it all.”

“I don’t need a place to exist son. And this measure of time that you asked me, I have created it, the time. I am not dependent on it. I never have. I created it for you, for the universe, so it could work.” He paused. “Like you make laws, so that everything is in order. That’s why I made time. So everything would be in order. So it’ll be easier for you all.”

“So when we say you’re everywhere, that’s true?!” He asked curiously.

He smiled, “This might be a little difficult for you to understand. Your kind has not reached that level of understanding as yet. You probably never will. But if I may put it in simpler terms: these words everywhere and all the time refer to a place and a point in time which, for you, are the laws that you can never escape from. You are governed by them. But I am the one who has created these. I am not governed by them or if I must say, I govern them. So I am not bound by them like you all are.”

He looked at his face as the old man spoke trying to understand the things that were too hard for him to understand or for anyone else for that matter. “So if this is not your true appearance, how do you look like truly?” He asked thinking deep about it with all the seriousness on his face. 

“Look?” He paused, “you can’t see me; not with those eyes that I have given you atleast. See, when you perceive things by touching or seeing, it is because they have a body, because they can’t exist without one, just like you. But I do not need one to exist; because if I did, I would need things to be there so I can live. But I don’t. I’m not dependent on anything. So you can say that I am merely an existence and you can’t really categorize me or put me in a class of something, because there is no else like me. I was the only one when there was nothing, and I will be the only when there will be nothing.”

He stared at his face, the way he spoke, like he was above everything and everyone. The expressions on his face convinced him more than the words of the old man; and suddenly he broke down, inside. “Why have you been so unfair to me then? Do you not love me? Do I not deserve happiness? Have I done something wrong that I am being punished for?” He almost cried.

“Oh no son! Not at all. I love you all the same, each one of you, even more than the amount of love your mothers could ever give you. You cannot imagine how much for you can never love anyone like that. I have made all of this, this entire universe only so you could exist; and I have made the happiness and the troubles and all of the luxuries of life that each one of you truly deserve but it would still be unfair if I just gave them all to you. Miracles are too simple a thing. I didn’t want it to be like that, so I kept mediums; hope and hardwork, perseverance.”

He stared back at him trying to understand and absorb every word said by the old man. “So my part of luxuries and happiness is out there too?”

“Ofcourse, they’re out there, waiting for you. Waiting that you work for them and open a path for them to come to you. Hope, so that they can live and wait for you. So you see son, it’s all on you. All the happiness and all the luxuries were made for you. Not only this world, but the entire universe was made for you. All you need to do is hope and work and never give up.” 

He suddenly felt lighter and hopeful for the first time after so many years. His face lit up with a smile. 

“I even made the time for you.” The old man said with a smile on his face.

He lifted his hand to look at the watch once more and saw the second hand moving again. “Hey, it’s in play…” He looked up and no one was there. He looked around; no one. He realized that he was standing right in front​ of his house.

He turned to go in and then stopped again. Looked at his watch, at the moving seconds hand and then looked up at the sky with a smile on his face, like he was looking at all the happiness waiting for him and he felt filled with all the hope that those happiness needed to wait for him. With the smile retaining on his face, the hopes new in his heart and the ownership of the whole universe, he went forward and knocked at the door. When the door opened, he saw their faces and the happiness that his presence brought to them. He hadn’t realized this before but he did now; the happiness that he was looking for, he was it.

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Posted by on June 30, 2017 in short story, theory, Uncategorized

 

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The Graves

His 45th birthday! A day which mocked him yet again, reminded him of the time that he had wasted, all those years that he had not utilized. He sat up on his bed, resting back at the headrest, staring at that face of her’s, which was still beautiful. Oh! The love of his life! He had done everything right in his life. A decent job, a decent lifestyle, a decent income and a decent family. He had fulfilled all of her needs and of his sons. They respected him and loved him and so did his parents. They were proud of him. He had fulfilled all the promises he had made to them, and all of those promises he had made to her; but what of those that he had made to himself! He sat there, his eyes drifting towards the darkness, thinking the same that his eyes could see, nothing! When else was he going to be that bestselling writer that he had always promised himself he would be. Where is that fame that he always thought he would achieve. Where are the fans. Where, the luxury! And when he thought about it, he realized he had actually achieved nothing in life. He had merely wasted his life. Those big plans, had never materialized. Those dreams, never came true.

He got up, breaking his reverie and snailed across the room into the washroom. The sound of the water from the tap filled his ears. He collected as much water as he could in his palms and splashed the water on his face trying to break out of the negativity that was drowning him. He stared right into his eyes in the mirror. It was suffocating. This monotonous breathing of his. He moved away from the eyes and stared at the wrinkles on his face. The futility of experiences that he had gathered, locked among these wrinkles. He stood there blank, without a frown or a tear or a smile, for he did not know what to do nor what to think of himself. He had wasted it all. All his years; in achieving everything! In being one of the rest. He wasn’t any different. He wasn’t special. Bound to be forgotten. He couldn’t face himself anymore and so he turned and walked into the darkness of the room again; the darkness which resembled more the inside of his mind. He got into the bed as slowly as he could and stared at her face once more. His treasure. She opened her eyes slowly and looked right into his eyes. 

‘Something wrong?’, she asked.

‘Nothing at all!’, he smiled with all the strength he had left in him and kissed her forehead.

She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, into that heavy heart of his. He held her close. The only fan, the only achievement of his life, his only treasure.

And then he went to sleep, with the love of his life and the graves of his dreams and desires.

 
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Posted by on March 14, 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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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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