Lucky day

Through closed eyes I could feel a dull throbbing pain, consistent and annoying. I grudgingly opened my eyes and when the last snatches of sleep cleared, so did the pain. In its place a nagging doubt crept in, a feeling that I was forgetting something.

I threw off the covers and sat up in bed thinking about the long day ahead and glanced around my bachelor pad and was immediately taken aback. Stacks of neatly folded clothes, a clean table and spotless floors greeted me; even the towel was husng out to dry. Everything seemed totally alien, it looked nothing like my house except for the fact that… it was! I sat there scratching my head trying to think how this could happen. How drunk was I yesterday? Could I have cleaned the house after coming back? I tried to remember but only the dull pain lingered in my memory.

On my way to office, I tried to find a more reasonable explanation. Mom, Tabatha and Christie, all had the keys to my apartment, could it be that one of them (or all) came by and cleaned the house while I slept? The idea seemed a bit far fetched. Why would they do that out of the blue? Why wouldn’t they wake me? Still the idea seemed more realistic than mine cleaning the house in the condition I was in last night. Well just the idea of mine cleaning is unreal. I tried not to think anymore. The pain kept coming back and also that thought…what was I forgetting?

Reached office and my cubicle without incident, I must look terrible today, nobody dared to speak to me. Not that I was in a mood to socialize either.

Time dragged on, it was one of those days which seemed longer than others. No special work came my way; in fact, no one came to talk either. No gossip, no complaints, no sleazy jokes. By lunch I was beginning to feel a bit strange. What was with people today? As I sat their in the canteen alone sipping coffee from a chipped cup, my eyes wandered on to the large calendar hanging on the walls. 30^th September... my birthday. How did i forget my own birthday? But i didn't forget, had a faint memory the party; the booze. But what’s with the silence?

As I started moving back to the cabin, I heard a snatch of conversation. The words John…meet…8’oclock…drifted to my ears. And then I heard someone asking for the address of my parents’ house in hushed tones. Suddenly it all became clear; a surprise birthday party. Despite the sour mood I was in all day, I suddenly started feeling all light and fluffy. Even at this age, the idea of a surprise birthday party sets a flutter to your stomach. I felt a very pure kind of joy, after a long time it seemed.

By 6.30 I grew restless. I couldn’t sit in that drab cubicle anymore with no one talking to me and nothing to do. Never had I got less work on account of my birthday. Not that I was complaining but this whole hush-hush surrounding my surprise was making me feel all left out. I was also wondering why mom hadn’t called me yet to come over. Maybe they were still busy preparing. Then an idea popped in my all too vacant brain. As revenge to my daylong torment I’ll burst in on their preparation, and catch them red handed.

I left shortly afterwards. No one stopped or questioned me, which I sort of expected. Still the fact the ‘big-man’ Andrews let me go so easily was hard to digest. This must be my lucky day. Must be my lucky birthday.

As I headed towards my old neighborhood where I grew up, I felt oddly nostalgic. I passed the playground where I had spent hours past my curfew, playing relentlessly, then that alley where I first scraped my knee on my very first bike. I felt a painful lump in my throat which both surprised me and delighted me. That pure joy was growing, spreading within me, filling me, surrounding me.

I saw a lot of cars parked in front of our house, which meant a lot of guests. I wondered what drove mom to go to such great lengths for my birthday. But then she always did complain that I don’t spend enough time with her. My heart warmed up for her.

I entered, and instantly felt a shiver, don’t know why. I looked around the room and saw everyone in dark suits and dark formals. Formal party? For a birthday? I looked down at my lilac shirt and beige chinos and felt totally out of place…and…wait a second…lilac shirt?? But that is what I wore yesterday, dint I change in the morning? I tried to remember but couldn’t. The pain was back only it was not so dull any more. I needed an aspirin, I needed to find mom.

I rushed from room to room ignoring everyone, suddenly frantic to find mom. Then I saw her, sitting alone, next to an open coffin. I shuddered. Oh no…Dad?? What happened yesterday? Did I…is that the reason no one was talking to me?! I ran to her and was about to shout but stopped. My eyes fell on the face in the open coffin…and saw myself in a dark blue suit. I wasn’t out of place after all. A wave of nausea swept over me, and it all came back in a blurry haze yet painfully vivid. The world started spinning…the somber faces…the playing ground…the friendly alley…and mom’s grey lined face all started spinning. I remembered…the drinks…the drive…the blinding light and then…the dull pain.

This must be my lucky day…my lucky birthday.

The ride bak home..

Ten past ten. I rush through the doors of the mall. Most of the shops have closed. The huge mall is now in half darkness as the last of the shoppers trickle out. Out on the street the humidity hits hard. With bags in hand I join in the hustle for a cab. But I had little hope, I live in that corner of the city where cab drivers refuse to tread. The very first syllable of the name is greeted with vigorous refusals. As I stood there wondering what to do, a cab driver walks up to me and offers to take me for extra 10 bucks. I wondered for a second, how did he know where I wanted to go? But I pushed the thought away, at this hour this was the best offer that could come along. I got into the cab. The driver gave his buddies a nod and said ‘I’m off’, the buddies nodded back with a sly grin, seemed like a secret message was conveyed. I got in. The moment I shut the door I got a strange stench, I couldn’t quite place it and was too tired to think about it. The car sped on. I leaned back and closed my eyes; the calf muscles had started protesting, felt good to sit down.

After resting for a couple of minutes I sat up. And saw the car speeding through a fairly deserted road. It was not an unfamiliar road I had passed through it several times but at this hour, alone in a cab, I felt a bit jittery. I tried to look as if I was totally confident about the route while in my mind I tried desperately to recall the exact route I had taken earlier. In all honesty I am very bad with directions and am often literally ‘taken for a ride’ by cabbies…but today the fear went deeper than a couple of extra bucks. I pulled down the window and felt the cool breeze, tried to calm down. I saw the yellow and black road barrier racing with us, a poisonous viper chasing us across the black sand desert. I looked back inside, the tattered seatbelt which no one used, the threadbare seats with its insides spilling out…and that stench. It suddenly struck me it was the stench of a slaughterhouse…and none was in sight. The fear returned. I tried to get a look of the driver, to read him, but only his yellowed eyes peered through the rear view mirror. I tried to look unabashed while a thousand situations played in my mind. I felt fairly confident that I could fight him, owing to those few karate classes. Then I wondered, was it really confidence or a false sense of security? As these thoughts raced across my mind, the cab turned sharply and we found ourselves on the main road again. Phew!

Quarter to eleven. At this hour even the main road was not as busy as usual. Had the roads been always this yellow? Everything looked strange and alien. I couldn’t relax yet…having recognized the stench, I just couldn’t. Perhaps there was a perfectly logical explanation for it, but the whole atmosphere was set to bring out my dark imagination. I started giving directions, finally feeling sure…being close to home now. The cab halted before my door and I started gathering my bags, holding my breath. I got off and paid the fare. I tipped him ten bucks extra than what he asked for. He grinned, his yellow teeth glowing in the yellow light. And as I walked towards my door, relieved at finally being home and out of that stinking cab...I began to laugh…feeling stupid for the thoughts in my head. It’s funny how situations affect our thoughts. Just before entering I glanced over at the taxi which was pulling away. I almost raised my hand to wave but froze. Through the half closed bonnet of the car I saw a blood stained gurney bag peeping out. I tried to scream but by then the taxi had turned the corner, and the driver suddenly turned and looked straight at me. He bore that same yellow grin more sinister somehow; a chill ran down my spine. He shot me a salute and drove off. I stood there shocked and terrified…my mind went blank and my knees buckled under my weight. Only one thought played over and over in my mind…the stench…the slaughterhouse travelled with me…and he now knew where I lived…

the last thing..

Let me lay before your doorstep,
upon the snowy bed.
Let the sugary snow be tinted,
with my crimson red.
I know you're in there knowing..
watching my life ebb away.
Still you do not come out..
and yet you let me stay.
I lay here for a reason,
the last thing i do for you.
All others maybe argued..
but this shall always hold true.
As i watch the snow redden,
with the last drop of my blood
My deadening senses gets a jolt,
by a loud and sudden thud.
I see her at last,a vision of beauty,
appear at the door.
A single tear rolls out,knowing
I'll see her no more..


I lay down for you,my dear,
a red carpet in your path
The final thing I do for you..
despite all your lies.
She walked out in her devil's heels
no feeling in her eyes
And the vision stayed frozen upon my face
as she walked away..unscathed..

Insomnia

Darkened room,just the dull yellow light
peeking through the window
The silence broken an mended
by a faint sound.
Soft and unnoticed at first
but grows slowly to a deafening roar.
The ticking clock,sitting and keeping count.
Time moves relentlessly as eyes just stare
The moment frozen in the light and shadow
of the concrete sky.
Prepared to sleep,all ready,but the sandman
again late.
Counting stars n sheep nothing to do but wait.
The sheep all jump their last,the stars too
blink away
And random thoughts and images
race forward instead
Bright and vivid at first,turn darker n darker
shades of grey
Finally the last images dwindle,grey grows black
ears silenced sweet...
Slipping slowly into the numbing deep.
Suddenly a shriek,a startle and shatter..
Bruised and broken it lays face down
on the floor
Two hands covering its face,the third
still ticking slow
Time up!dark sand has passed through to
bright day
The dazzling sun still cannot light the darkness
beneath my eye
the sun chases,across the sky,all through the day
Yet through the rush and bustle,the ticker still ticks away...

Dream...inspired from a real dream...

I worry,i pace the floor tirelessly.
Not a word,not a whisper of how he is...
I try and try again to reach out to him
But fail;And dark images crowd my thoughts.

I asked him not to go,to a house
With blood stains on the door;'Paint!'
Said he,while he smiled charmingly
And as beads of sweat broke upon my brow.

The shadows around the street, shifted
Restlessly,and haunting winds sung
Warnings in my ear;Yet i left him,against
The protests of my heart...yet i left him there!

Now the moonless night deepens,
The dark night,the dark thought
Locked in grim duet;As I stand upon the door
Suddenly,i see,a glint of a distant silhouette.

My pulse quickens in hope and fear
I feel an anguished breath,so cold so near.

I shiver into the light,gone is the
Moonless night;the morning bright
And happy in my room.
Yet my heart races,something here it misses...
Did i desert him in the kingdom of doom?