Guilt, Shame... and End...

Guilt, shame, resignation, petrol, smoke, blood, tears, freshly wet mud and his own perspiration were the mélange of smells clotting his nostrils. The downpour of incessant shower unleashed from the gray skies cooled down little the conflagrated earth, though it could not douse the raging fires; whether inside his heart, or outside...
But putting out the flames was of least or no concern, at least to him. Because sometimes the burn is enough to deal an everlasting damage... And there is no repair to it thereafter…

He had started off his day amidst a lot of duress, but its end was seemingly unimaginable. Yet that was how it was and that is where it had to be, so he could not think beyond or above what had happened except for accepting that it had happened because it was destined to happen so…

Yet mind plays games with you, and time and again it wishes, it wants and constantly keeps on wanting, craving for an opportunity, a chance to turn around and change, whatsoever and howsoever it cannot change.

Through the torturing gasps of nauseatic concoction of smells he was inhaling, his mind raced back into last few moments, hoping struggling fighting in vain to change what had happened despite knowing that all his attempts for this cause were futile…

Nevertheless he relived again those heart-stopping moments of pounding incarceration, where each nano-second seemed to be filled with resounding echoes of his heartbeats as it went into frenzy. Each thumping beat was punctuated by the exaggerated silence clashing against his ear drums making him feel as if he had entered an unhinged void of vacuum.

And then the six foot high man in black pathani, with a white skull cap, kohl eyes and two missing teeth turned and grinned at him, and everything seemed to stop instantly, barring the dumbfounding silence. And when he met the latter’s eyes, those ferocious pair of hazel eyes, an unknown understanding passed between them and the grin no longer seemed pronounced, but nothing different than the missing piece of jigsaw puzzle. And then something clicked instantly, like an electric bulb flaring up in darkness and picture became clear to him and he could not, despite himself, despite the anxiety caused by such clarity, do anything more than hang his head down in shame.

Yes he did that, howsoever and howmuchever ashamed and guilty he may feel now, he did nothing, but hang his head down; in shame, in defeat, in resignation, or in surrender, you name it as you wish, but that is all he could manage, in spite of all his idiosyncrasy, in spite of all his modernity and fraternity he couldn’t manage anything except for a head which hung in shame.

But he did manage to do one thing. For all his weakness, for all his timidity of character, he did one (last?) act of defiance, one (final?) act of revolt against something which he had so much antagonized all his life, yet something which was enforced upon him as an ad hoc characteristic of his creed. He stood against it. He refused to run away from the situation, no matter even if it did pose a danger. In one (concluding?) act of insurrection, he made himself a living epithet for difference… between love and hate, between crime and compassion, between truth and apparent, between god and devil, and between good and bad. He stood rooted in his place, not wavering from his position, he sent back his feedback; I am different…

The nasty kohl eyed (brother?) of his caste scowled at his reaction, and moved down the aisle to alight from the bus. And then, feeling relieved like never before in his life, feeling exonerated like he hadn’t experienced ever; he closed his eyes and his composure became suddenly of a man about to achieve peace, about to be liberated from the chains tied on his toes, about to achieve the bliss, the salvation of accomplishment!

And then the heartbeats quickened suddenly, because a sound started to emanate from the bag left behind by the pathani clad fellow, and beep beep beep it started to rise in the crescendo as beep beep beep it began its march in a progression which threatened to reach the penultimate because beep beep beep it leaped the seconds and minutes like a running cheetah and beep beep beep it slowly started to replace his heartbeat… so that the beat started to become beep, and then it was just heart beep… beep… beep… beep… … … beep… … … … … … BEEP!!!

The amplified sound of the last resonance got amalgamated into a fire which usurped everything, and then all was whirling into one as earth air water and fire united to completely seize the world in its grip, and sound sight feel everything got erased into the overlapping whiteness (or darkness?) of light. And then he was in an inferno or a heaven because nothing seemed to exist beyond what was there and nothing seemed to make any sense in a meaningless world of care…

And then he was falling through that whirlpool down down down… straight to the fathomless bottom of the depth and light (or darkness?) and then he landed softly just like a feather on the hard ground of reality as the dream shattered and truth came back and finally, he was lying down on the road beside a burning bus and dead corpses of those many innocent people and darkness fading out the gray skies at the corner of his eyes, and guilt shame and end embracing him in their arms…
And in the end, while he twitched, struggled to get independence from a life so beloved, yet a life ended in such a misery; the pathani clad man entered his vision, all smiles, his arms raised in anticipation of an embrace, and he too raised his arms, yet neither did the man came to him, and neither did the struggle against life stopped… just what remained was pain loss and grief. And then when the movements became less violent, and pupils dilated, and eyes met eyes a smile lit another smile... and the world started to fade in front of his eyes… and all that was left was deafening muteness..

Comments

Sahil Khamosh said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sahil Khamosh said…
You paint an astonishingly vibrant picture through your words. In fact after reading your works i find it difficult to talk in normal English for a while. I have another friend who is a regular blogger - www.dead-diction.blogspot.com
Check out his works if you get the time...there is a lot of similarity in the way the two of you write. Im more of a freestyle writer leaning heavily on puns and tongue-in-cheek humour but you people are capable of actually composing different situations in a poetically appealing manner. Keep them coming.
Btw, i deleted the previous comment because of some encoding errors.

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