7 years

7 minutes… it took him a few carelessly counted drags, a few flashbacks and 7 minutes for the smoke to reach the sole of his shoes. As he blew up into the air, a sigh of relief disguised in smoke, filled up the air around him. It was going to be 7 years now. He couldn’t have imagined, let alone wish, to be with someone for so long; but the best part of it was, he didn’t even realize it has been that long. You get used to some things, while others, you just get bored of, start to find it monotonous; some, on the other hand, even start getting on your nerves. It’s not like she doesn’t though; she does. She does it intentionally and you find it cute. That’s such a strange thing!

So, he turned his back to the view of the city, losing his worries and thoughts in a reverie that consisted of all the different ways that was possible for him to think of her. Starting from the days when he wouldn’t bother about the world, selfishly walking around with a careless attitude, to this day where he finds himself caring and wishing happiness for not only her, but everyone around him.

A new life; that’s the closest that he could get to describing this. This way of life that he discovered he could have. So there’s this that he never could completely explain, even when he was writing with his deepest thoughts; and then there was her who did the same to him. It is quite strange though, the very concept of writing about something that leaves you speechless. Just struggling to put into words the very thing that causes this speechlessness; but the again, that is what the heart loves to pour out.

Staring at the sky above him, the sound of her footsteps filled his ears and a smile, his face; and his eyes wandered longingly for her vision and rested on her face when her smile brightened his day again.
It took her a few seconds to understand where he was in his head and she walked to him and joined him in there.
It had been a long time since they had knew each other and when you are that close to somebody for that long, you tend to have a conversation with them without even speaking or listening, you tend to know or even feel when they feel something like happiness or sadness or troubled.
She hadn’t spoken a word since she joined him in his reverie; only stolen a glance or two. She rested her head in his chest and flew off into his dreams with him and watched the sky change its colour to deeper hues of blue till the cold broke their trance. He gave her the warmth of his arms and took her away from the stars.

 

The Gleam

The lights grew dimmer around him. The commotion of words in his vicinity grew quieter as he stood there in the midst of hundreds of people atleast, feeling all alone. It was only moments before this particular one when he had the beauty of the world around him; and his world by his side. All he could think of was the happiness and the beauty that these festivities bring about around the city and into the lives of the people. Celebrations surrounding him, the touch of her cheek on his shoulder, it was just perfect; just a few moments ago, it was perfect.

The laughter and the smiles on the faces around him hadn’t gone out like his. They were still happy, still enjoying themselves, still chirping with the fulfillment that they felt in their hearts, or atleast that is what appeared to him.

She didn’t even turn back once. Maybe she thought she would become weak and would have to come back. It wasn’t the right time to do something like this. It must have been so hard for her too. The voices inside his head fought with each other, submerging the sounds that had earlier drowned the distance between them by drowning their voices in their conversation. The lights which seemed enchanting a few moments ago couldn’t revive his spirits anymore. They held no meaning, no happiness, no beauty; for the most beautiful one in his life had just walked out of it. She had been nothing more than a momentary gleam.

The veil is removed now. The facade that covers the ugly truth of reality, broken down. How happy they looked, just moments ago; and all he could see now was the selfishness that governs the people. How busy they seem in their own lives. So busy, smiling and laughing and walking around with their loved ones; too busy to even care about the others; walking past him unaltered in their spirits. But why should it affect them anyway, when someone who you gave your heart to, someone who you would give your life for, could walk away without even another glance at you.

The beauty, we think, resides outside of us, in this world that is around us. We astound ourselves looking at whatever has been created by Him, solely for us. How futile this whole thing looks to him right now. His heart stands untouched by the beauty and the happiness that surrounds him. Right now, it is filled with darkness that cannot be enlightened by millions of star like lights that amuse the sight of the people. His heart pounds hard enough to drown the sound of the chirping of hundreds. His soul shivers with cold and loneliness, beyond the reach of the warmth of love, beyond the reach of these hundreds.

 

Crazy in Love

It’s the favourite part of my day, my love. What else could I ask for, if not waking up by your side and getting the privilege of starting my day with your face as my first sight. Your face shines; not in a way that would hurt the eyes of the gazer in the half-pitched darkness that reigns the atmosphere of our room, but like a shimmer. It captivates my eyes and binds me in a way that I can not feel anything else in that moment except for the sight I see. Before the curtains are withdrawn and the beams of light build a wall of rays between our faces, I fill my senses with your presence. And oh how I dare to touch you, threatening everything that I have in this moment; that my touch may break this moment along with your slumber. The only part of the day when you’re only mine and I do not have to share you with the world. We share a bed right now, a blanket and also the breaths that we take.

It’s the favourite part of my day, my love, to have the chance to hold you in my arms for a little while longer after I regain my senses from this slumber and before the world steals your presence from me. I want you to conquer this world without me but I want you to love me the same and hold me as your most precious and not curse me with your shared attention. But that’s not possible my love. It can never be. For that, you need to be here with me, always. You do not need to move a finger and I shall fulfill your wishes like they’re mine. I shall give up my life for you if you wish but I need it to take care of you, forever; to keep you safe from this heartless world and every element in it that conspires against our togetherness, like the wall of sunlight between our faces, the thousands of molecules of air between our lips, the presence of things around us in our vicinity and the people in your lives that think that I’m harmful for you.

It is the favourite part of my day, my love. Silence and acceptance on your part as well, before you wake up and regret to have met me, knowing me or even having me in your life. Before you wake up and plead me to untie you and let you go. How it hurts me, my love, to see you be one of those many people that want to take you away from me. But I will not let that happen, my love. I will love you, take care of you and protect you, even from yourself; forever.

 

Diary of a Werewolf: The First Transformation

I still remember that first transformation. I had known for a while that I had been infected in some way by something, but I could not come to terms with it myself. It just seemed to me as tricks of my mind where it connected random incidents. I still remember that first transformation. How can I ever forget that! It all started with the moon.

I could feel something within my body growing, coming out to take over. The physical pain was excruciating. I had always had this way of dealing with pain where I would bite my finger or pinch myself hard enough to divert the attention of my mind from the existing pain somewhere else; but I did not know what to do here! I did not know which part of body was in pain or rather, which part was not. I could not feel anything else; throughout my body, every single inch of it; so much so that I could not breathe anymore. You can always tell how deep your wound is by the way it feels; I could not. It was like pain was the only thing that existed within me. I begged for it to stop, to whom did not matter, screaming, taking occasional breaths but nothing helped. I could feel my bones break one by one and I was in no state to count but I could tell it wasn’t just one. I was on all four of my limbs; I tried to lie down but I couldn’t move, except for the ways my body moved itself. I had lost count of time but it felt like eternity. I could feel my insides shift places, move within me and the broken bones moved under the skin, causing me a level of pain that I never knew existed. My jaws started to change shape and a redness covered my vision which slowly turned into black and that was the last of what I remember of the night.

I opened my eyes in the forest not far from where I live, under the shining sun which made it hard for me to lie there anymore and to figure out exactly where I was. It took me a few minutes to come to my senses completely and to even realise that I had nothing on me. I gathered some things, bits and pieces of a branch and leaves to cover myself and sneaked my way home. My whole body ached in a hollowness but I remembered nothing of the night.

Well that was only the first. It has happened so many times after that that I’ve lost count and become familiar with the pain. My body hasn’t yet gotten used to it; I don’t think it ever will. You can never get used to such torture. Atleast back then, this fear of transformation wasn’t there. The haunting has only been added to after my learning. The haunting, that it will happen again!

 

The Anklet

Oh how she loved surprises and those untimely gifts he gave her. It would light her face up every single time. She couldn’t wait to unravel his love that she held in her hands. With a wide grin on her face, she unwrapped it and opened the tiny little red box that smiled at her bright face.

“Oh! It’s beautiful!” She couldn’t keep her tears away from her. She took it out of the box and held it up with two fingers while the anklet dangled in front of her like she was trying to memorize every detail of it and then she put it back into box, “I’m going to wear it on some special day.” She said with a smile.

“No no no! You’re going to have to wear it now, and never take it off!” He said with an urgency in his voice that stirred the curiosity in her. “Why?!” She exclaimed, rather than questioning him, as soon as he finished.

“Because…” He paused to look into the eyes which demanded his attention everytime they talked. “Tell me, please”, the child in her wouldn’t let go without an answer. His eyes moved away as his lips widened and the blood ran to fill his cheeks. She held his hand captive in hers’ and demanded his eyes again, “please?”

“Because…”, he stretched the word, “it tinkles.”

“And so?” She voiced her thought.

“So… It would remind me of you. I remember how, the other day, I felt restless when I moved my arm in search of you on the bed.” He tried to explain himself

“But I was at home, baby! Where else would I go!” She inquired again.

“I know I know! But it’s not about that. It’s just… you know… I always want you there, even when I know that you are. I realised that when I was in that state of half sleep and I couldn’t find you on the bed. I grew restless. So, you see, when the next time that happens, I’ll know the sound of the tinklet and have a more peaceful sleep.” He tried to explain.

“And here I was thinking you bought me a gift to make me happy!” she said with a fake huff and turned her face away! He took the anklet from her hand and put it where it actually belonged; and kissed her cheek as he walked away into the kitchen, “Would you like to have some coffee, baby?”

“Ofcourse I would! But I’m still angry!” She smiled under her breath.

---

It was one of those bad dreams that always haunted him. His eyes opened wide for a second and then closed again, realizing that he was dreaming again. His eyes were closed now, his heart throbbing in his chest and breathing, faster. He burried his face into the pillow and ran his arm beside him on the bed in search of her when he suddenly heard the tinkle of the anklet. It made him smile again. “Katie” he almost moaned from his sleep and stretched his hand to his bedside table to pick up the frame that stood there. What better way to start the day than to see your love the first thing in the morning.

And then her voice echoed in his head, “You will always have a peaceful sleep, baby!”

He closed his eyes as a cat jumped on to the bed beside him; with an anklet around her neck! She purred as she burried herself into his pillow. “I know, love! We both miss mommy!” He said, as he moved his fingers on her head and stared at the anklet with teary eyes!

 

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.

 

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.

 

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. 

 

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!

 

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.