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A good summer day

“So what happened the other day was partly my fault, but that doesn’t mean I am the only one to blame,” said Philip, in what he hoped to be his defence. Little did he realize that he had just opened a can of worms. Owe it to inexperience who else in their right mind would tell a lady it’s her fault as well that a date was cancelled owing to miscommunication. On a similar night somewhere in Ghana, Okagawe, hurling a blow at Ebine shouted,” Who are you to question me, I am the man of the house! I decide when I meet, whom I meet and where I meet them,” and things returned to normal, just as it had every single day Ebine retreating to her corner of the house, teary eyed.

There, now that I have all of you thinking I am a worthless MCP, let’s discuss the whole issue of what’s wrong with today’s society and it’s want for feminism. For starters, I’d clarify my stand on the above point, only somebody in their right mind would refrain from telling a lady that she is to take part of the blame for any mutual miscommunication. At least I would chance my arm on that one with a practical woman. True remains the fact that today, even in the most developed society there is some remnant of sexism. True to nature man must fight or face the circumstances and in a lot of states worldwide man or rather “wo-man” in this case have decided to step up and fight it out.

Enter: Feminism. Now the question arises, what is the very purpose of such a term? What was the requirement for the rise of this and how can one mitigate the already dreadful situation that we, as humans have at our hands. Enter: Racism, Discrimination. As we’ve very wonderfully come to display discrimination is one of our fortes. We don’t like something, let’s discriminate. Right from childhood, the more fortunate (are they really??) among us have had the privilege of discriminating. You don’t like a certain vegetable, don’t eat it, you don’t like a t-shirt, don’t wear it, you don’t like a person, don’t bother with them. This very attitude of avoidance is something that has lead to many of today’s problems, racism, wastage, sexism to name a few.

A few decide and the rest blindly follow, some after consideration feel it is a fairly viable prospect and hence follow. Why is it that we tend to discriminate? Has one ever considered what the real issue at hand is? Man has had an inherent inertia to change, some however embraced it better; they soon became outcasts. Anybody who went against the mob was now their enemy, and probably next victim. The insecurities that man had about women is what lead to them being downtrodden in the first place. The need to ascertain authority resulted in the usage of force to oppress opposition. Naturally the rich and resourceful succeeded better at this.

Even in today’s developed society, one can easily notice how it is generally the richer of the populace that’s more discriminating of coloured people. Why? Because they can, because their lives didn’t directly depend on them and they could be eliminated. When the United States of America, “”the land of hope” finally had a “black” president in America, slogans of the American dream becoming a reality were widely chanted. When he was re-elected much to the dismay of the wealthier folks and largely to the surprise of his own voters, the world witnessed a change. But we could all well say that this was an anomaly, primarily due to the absence of a worthy and untarnished opponent. This was the Americas. How long do you think we will have to wait for a “coloured” president in any of the well to do European states, Australia, or New Zeeland for that matter?

Leaving colour aside, how many of the developed states have Lady premiers? When Pratibha Patil, however dirty she turned out to be later and continues to be so now, was elected Indian President, India underwent a sea of change. Not much that Mrs. Patil did initiated it, but the very fact that she, a woman was today the President, the signing authority on the most important decisions regarding the country was reason enough for many a lady, to consider herself worthy of more than being a home-maker. No offense to the home-makers here, they do a fantastic job in ensuring that the house doesn’t fall apart while the man of the house is away working, but this realisation that their lives needn’t be restricted to the four walls of the house empowered many. Today we see a sea of change, women are at the forefront of any industry, but how many of them do we notice? That’s where the change has to occur and it is a change that is coming about.

As I initially mentioned, we as a species do not take kindly to change, and hence it is only understandable that any change would take its due time to materialize. So why the hurry? What’s the point in hurtling abuses at the opposite sex and labelling them feminists or MCPs? What we need is a tolerant and equitable society, one in which people listen more to reason than emotion. One in which we can look beyond the colour of the skin and more into talents hidden within.

But then again, whom am I kidding? We’re gonna stay as messed up as we are, coz we have now become comfortable in our discomfort and are afraid of how we may react to a comfortable life. Everybody likes a good summer, but nobody likes to sweat.

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Dead or Alive

So let’s say you just died last night. Pop, someone’s just opened the freezer and you see two people standing above, staring at you, a shake of the head and one of them exclaims, “what a sorry way to go!”.  “Well, it coulda been worse.” interjects the other, all this while not realizing that you are capable of listening to them.

“What do you think his last thoughts were?”, the taller of the two, his ID card saying Walters thought aloud. “Could’ve been anything, such a full life that he had lived, wonder if he had any regrets”, said the younger, smaller and evidently inexperienced Birch as he fiddled around nervously at the tweezers at his disposal. “First case here? Let me bring you up to speed with this business,” said Walters. “It’s only common to shudder in thought of the deceased, but that ain’t are job. They got family for that. We look at them, these sorry departed souls, dress them up and make them prettier than they were born, so that they can been put six feet under. WE give the family some solace in showing their loved ones as pretty as could have been, that’s it. This ain’t no place to get emotional with your clients, ain’t good for your sanity boy.” Turning towards Birch, he smiled, patting his shoulder he continued,”The first one’s always the most difficult; you get used to it with time. Don’t try making friends with them though, they’re here but for a short while.”

Birch stared blankly, confuse and visibly dazed by the nonchalance with which Walters was speaking: all this with a body right in front of them. Multiple thoughts occurred to him in an attempt to come to terms with what he had just been told. The job of a mortician wasn’t something he had taken up by choice, or courtesy an interest, well he was pretty much scared out of his wits at the prospect of being with the dead and dressing up corpses. In a room set to a temperature of 8 degrees Celsius, one could still see the beads of sweat on his forehead. You look at him and wonder why the kid was here in the first place. “Would he in all his nervousness and fear distort your already distorted body?”, you can’t help wonder, can you? You want to shout out to him, tell him that it’s alright, tell him that he needn’t fear you, but try as you may he can’t hear you. Well can he? Is he just ignoring you or can he really not hear you? What certainty do you have? Not like you’re an expert on dying now are you!

You, a first timer and him a first timer, sounds like a match made in heaven, doesn’t it now? Two novices trying do as best as you can, to be good at that one job that you’ve been given. “Please stay put,” you hear a voice say. Looking around you see nothing, not a single soul, but the voice sounds again, “Stay put will you!” You shudder, ever so slightly, a shriek follows. Some more noises: you hear someone stumbling and steel crashing onto the floor. “What’s it Birch?? Get a hold of yourself, go wash your face,” that must be Walters.

“That’s not dead,” exclaims a visibly shaking Birch much to the dismay of Walters. “What’re you talking about?” he asks, making his annoyance very clear. He points towards you “That person there, is no longer a person. Been declared dead  all of 24 hours boy! Nothing moves,” reemphasized Walters. “Hang on there,” you say, a mumble at best, but that’s good enough to have Walters’ attention.

Flummoxed and lost for words, he stares in disbelief. In his career of over three decades, never, not once had he come across a corpse that spoke. “Call 911, NOW!!” he spoke, still shaking. The scalpel in his hand falls to ground, and he throws up.

You move, ever so little, extremely weak, but still you survived this one.  The man who defied death, they called you. In the week that followed, reports of three deaths came by, Walters was gone, Birch as well, so was the doctor who declared you dead. From the “Man who defied death”, you’re now looked upon as the “angel of Death.” Do you still want to live on??

Adult-hood.

As sunlight wrestled against the curtains, coming in ever so little only to fall upon her face, Katherin looked up a smile on her face and gleam in her eyes. She hadn’t slept that well in the past two years. Price had that effect on her. In his arms, she’d come to feel secure, a calm that completely enveloped her internal turmoils restoring tranquility in her tumultuous life.
The judgement had been passed last afternoon. The verdict in her favor, pronouncing her not guilty on any account of the homicide of her ex- boyfriend whom the cops had found hacked to death in her apartment. The relief she felt as the verdict was pronounced was something out of the world. The weight that she seemed to be carrying that of confusion and uncertainty had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders.
The early morning sun-rays today reflected her life, nature’s way off imparting poetic justice one would think. The dark circles under her eyes that had until yesterday made her appear old and frail today attenuated the radiance like scars on a war veteran, reflecting maturity and wisdom and the ability to fight it through a rough patch. Proof of her will and determination and more than anything , to the world, of her innocence. The tears she’d cried, the prayers prayed had all payed off.
Today she was not just a free lady, but one who had been victimized by the judgementality of society. Looking outside she some children, little girls probably on their way to school, smiling and waving their arms bidding their goodbyes. She recollected the last time she had smiled like that, full and carefree, it was exactly two years ago, as she bid goodbye to Philip as she left for uni.
Reflecting back on the day, she couldn’t help but frown at the reality, “Could adults ever smile carefree in true innocence? Or had they lost that capability to children alone?” Marred by deceit, conspiracy and forever worried by the uncertainty we’d enslaved ourselves to fear.

THE CHASE

As a toddler, you were taught how to crawl and then walk by someone, most probably close family unless they were super busy with their lives that they had no time for you, your birth shocked them into death or you were thought to be extremely capable and hence abandoned at birth and left to fend for yourself. If it were for your parents, you’d have more often than not been told to follow something. You were probably a part of their fishing experiments as well: they showed you bait (candies, toys etc.) that were further away, asking you to get them for yourself. In your earnestness to get what you loved you progressed better, and voila, your suddenly walking.

That’s probably the first time you were forced to chase something to conquer it. For those of you in the orphanages, you had hardcore competition, I understand and you were probably well acquainted with Darwin’s theory of “Survival of the Fittest” even before you knew alphabets. In and out of foster homes, you’d have learnt one thing if nothing else, you got to have your own back and you got to chase things and chase them best. Stake outs, as cool as they sound are time-consuming and more often than not failures coz hey, the guy who beat you was actually chasing and not just sitting inside some molehill waiting for you to come around.

Patience they say is a virtue one must generously and regularly practise. Knowing when to shift gears, is something that’s even more important. The boxer maybe patient, he may take in blows waiting for the opponent to tire out so that he can knock him out with one blow, but he’s also taken in so much that he’s pretty “beat up” by the end of the fight which he did eventually win. Today, I came across this little girl chasing a butterfly; arms outstretched, something that reminds us a lot of our childhoods as well. Children- the symbol of innocence they say, yet the intensity in her eyes startled me. Focussed on the prey, with the eyes of an eagle, there she was running around. Give her wings and the butterfly was dinner. Luckily for it, the butterfly lived to fly another day.

In pursuit of the butterfly, the girl was only applying what she’d been taught all through childhood: to chase. The same girl will tomorrow chase her dream, something more significant than a fluttering butterfly. The dreams will get fancier, achieving them more difficult, some she shall conquer, some she shall concede defeat to. An old man once on being asked what kept him going cockily remarked “it’s uncertainty my lad. Today you chase something, tomorrow your being chased.” I couldn’t help laughing as I heard the words coming out of his mouth. However reflecting on them, he’s hit the nail right on the head!

Fear is what inspires most of us to look ahead and run along. The chase in itself is something that stems from the fear of losing something. Something which was initially tangible later becomes more of an emotional prize. People chase dreams to social gratification, companies chase new technology to  ensure supremacy over competitors, romantics chase love to make themselves feel good about themselves, scientists chase knowledge ( you got to make the world a better place you see) and Buddhists chase happiness 😀 (Pardon me for I don’t care about religions).

At the end of the day, everybody is chasing something, primarily to survive and due to some inherent fear. This is exactly what the Neanderthals did as well, or rather we assume they did. Well if that’s true, how much have we progressed on an intellectual and emotional level, if it is the chase that still drives us? The hardwiring of this system is still so primitive, with appearances changing over the years, once can’t help wonder – “What has changed so much? How are we any better than those apes that walked the face of the earth early on?”

“The chase is still very much on, what’re you chasing today?”

Shotgun

The sun was finally out and this time not just for show, it actually felt warm enough to toss away the jackets. Post the brazen cold of the winter which for some odd reason waned away rather slowly this time around the sun was a welcome respite.

Jane was in the garage, she’d been there all morning greasing the chain and checking the brakes and pedals; biking was one thing she’d always loved, for company she had Lana with her. The wet nosed bundle of energy was the only other thing that got her to beam from ear to ear the way she did.  “Breakfast is ready Janie, grab a bite when it’s warm”, called out Martha; her mother. Rodriguez, her husband was just back from his morning run. His breathing seemed heavy to Martha, but then again he was just back from a run, more so he looked worried, and strained out. “What’s wrong, something’s troubling you”, she said.

He looked at her, opened his mouth to speak and fell to the ground. Shocked by what she witnessed, Martha let out a cry as she rushed towards her husband. However no sound escaped her throat. Hearing the commotion above Lana rushed up, barking frantically, closely followed by Jane. Seeing what had happened she rushed towards the phone, called for an EMT and started out performing CPR the way she’d been taught at camp, however to no respite. 

What had dawned to be a beautiful day was suddenly filled with gloom. The EMT members arrived ten minutes later, only to spell out the obvious; her father was no more. They put him into the ambulance, with the family following close behind. He was declared dead on arrival at the hospital, the official declaration was now out. All hope dispelled.

Meanwhile the county hospital had received another EMT assistance. Lucas had experienced a fate similar to that of Rodriguez. They had been the best of pals since either of them could remember, going for runs in the day, drinking at night, hunting, vacationing or just grabbing a bite with some conversation. They were never short of topics to talk about. As the Rodriguez family watched, Lucas was brought in, on a stretcher, Linda and Gabe following closely tears streaming down their faces.

Another death, for people who’d known them it only seemed fitting that they departed together having spent pretty much their entire life’s together. Only that very morning had they gone out running together. The pancakes in the Rodriguez house had cooled down, flies now feasting on them.

A post mortem was in order as part of the procedure despite them appearing to be routine cardiac arrests. The dual death did leave room for speculation, not many had given it a second thought. Dr. Thomson was in for a surprise, the autopsy reports said a different story all together. Both the victims had been killed. Poisoned, with care, using a poison having a very specific residual time.

The coroner’s report had reached the sheriff, and it had been clear that this was a double homicide. A rather carefully planned and executed one. The County of Willowhall was not one known for atrocities,  peaceful county, one where pretty much everybody knew each other, a rather closely knit community,  it was. The public unrest and tension that such a news would cause, if it went out is what worried Sheriff Woodbridge the most.

Two of the county’s most respected people had been killed in a rather efficient manner. What could be the motive behind the murders? Would there be more to follow? Who killed them? The endless stream of questions had the sheriff sweating. This didn’t look like something that was in his control anymore, giving up however was not an option. Those were friends of his who were dead;  good citizens who had done enough and more for the development of their county and people.

“How were they poisoned?” The coroner’s examination hadn’t presented him with any leads with respect to that either, he needed to have some answers before he could disclose the news to the grieving families. A thorough examination of the bodies revealed puncture holes behind the earlobes of either victims apart from which there seemed to be no other sign of foul-play.  

 

Lost..

As the sun set on the coast,

the wind brushed past her cheeks,

cool, moist but calming,

she dropped a flower into the sea,

the sky burnt orange.

As the flower was carried further away,

along with the tides; into the sea,

she couldn’t help the teardrop which had now settled on her cheek.

She did not know her, but she didn’t deserve to die this way,

afar and above, the red sky gave away into the dark of the night,

it rained; the heavens wept.

Some distance away,

he sat looking into the vast emptiness his life had become,

a flower in hand,

“would it ever be the same?”, he wondered,

and then she saw him and him her.

Colour or Black n White?

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Dominic looked around, everything was either black or white. Looking into the mirror, he saw himself ashen faced, the kids sat in a corner, quiet and motionless, Natalie refused to show signs of life. She was all he had ever wanted, his childhood sweetheart whom he had gone on to marry and raise a family with, today, she looked dead. “What had happened to her?”, he wondered, “what about the kids?”. They were never quiet, the little bundles of energy, they were the centre of his universe.

Now he was all but a tree which had lost all it’s leaves, no flowers remained, no birds to sing and sit on it. He was dead while being alive. “When did the colour go out of our life?” He looked around only to feel even more convinced about the death of his near and dear ones. He was today a man who had lost everything he had. One who had nothing more to lose, he seemed lost; he frantically rushed out of his house. He could not see the light of the day, nor the stars and the moon.

He felt around for things, had he lost his vision?? Lost in complete self doubt, one that by now had consumed him in his entirety. Then in the distance, he saw a hue, a silhouette, what of he recognised not, but a sense of relief now engulfed him. He could now be sure that he wasn’t completely blind, as long as he wasn’t hallucinating. He had to be sure, he moved on forward, as fast as his feet would carry him: he seemed to be dragging dead weight. “Why weren’t his feet moving quicker?”. Only a day before, he was the nimble footed athlete, now he felt like a sloth.

The anxiety grew as he approached the silhouette, it now seemed to be in motion. He tried to move faster, only to feel even more burdened by his own weight. He felt his legs give away, thump! He was down, on the ground. He looked up, away into the distance, there was nothing there anymore. Suddenly, he felt light once again, like he was now being carried, his body rose, drifting about, squinting his eyes in an attempt to make sense of what was happening around him, he felt betrayed by the world around, he was now passing at speeds quicker than he had ever imagined.

“What do you value the most?”, asked a voice out of nowhere. “Think hard before you answer, for you have only one shot.”, the voice said. He thought hard, his entire life passing through right in front of his eyes. He saw James, his younger brother playing in the park with him, Champ, their Labrador, who had died when he was 15 was with them too; he was just a pup then.

Then he saw Natalie, how everything else suddenly seemed irrelevant, how the sunset was no longer just another routine, it had become “their thing”, it was no longer just the setting sun, it was a hue of different colours the yellow, the orange, red, the cool blue, the light breeze, more than anything else, her smiling face resting on his shoulder, talking about random stuff and then diving into absolute silence, delving in themselves, more like absorbing each other’s souls. Then he saw their own kids, Stephan and Lily, the twins, who had brought so much joy in their lives. All the smiles, the late nights, taking turns to stay up cleaning diapers, and feeding and playing with the kids, the grumpy morning’s after. The smiles, that stayed long, despite all the troubles they had.

Now he saw the the kids growing up, their first day in school, them running away towards their teachers and fellow toddlers: their new friends. The grey was just starting, he saw the first major fight after the wedding, how Natalie had cried all night long, he had finished the entire bottle of Chivas Regal, she had spent two nights at her friend Cindy’s. Things never got back to how they were after that day. The distance had only kept growing, they both loved the kids selflessly, the prospect of an eminent split however frightened them both. He had reached today..

“I want to go back to how we were great and loved each other. How Natalie and I waited for the moments we had with each other,” he said. “You’ll be late,” he heard Natalie’s voice, sunlight rushed in as she drew the curtains, coffee at bedside. he looked up to her and couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you, for bringing colour into my black and white life,” he said as he went in for a shower.

P.S: The photograph, is a painting by Bijna Balan, a friend of mine.

I see but do you??

She did wake up from her sleep all dazed! Where was she, she wondered, was not like she’d gone home with some guy last night, but nevertheless she didn’t seem to recognise where she’s woken up or what day it was. She looked into her watch rubbing her eyes and she saw it; a crack, a big one at that. As she looked around, she was greeted by surprise; shock more like to surroundings she did not recognise at all. “Where was she?”, she wondered aloud, “was it time to panic yet??”

It wasn’t the first time she’d dreamt of it, and for some reason she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Laura paced around the room, she’d lost sleep for good. As she frantically searched for her pills, the truth that she’d emptied them out a few days before dawned upon her, also with it was the fact that she’s probably have to embrace dawn in the state of trance especially as she couldn’t get any sleep any longer.

It wasn’t the first time that Laura had dreamt of it, only to lose all sleep, the sedatives had helped so long but what would she do this night? She looked out of the window, nature seemed to be at loggerheads with the world, a storm was raging outside like a punishment suitable only for the worst of the sinners, was she part of them; she wondered. Was it her sin also that everyone else was paying for? The window shut with a bang, was it a sign from above?? She picked up the phone to call Marko, he had to know the answer to her question: after all he had helped her with everything else over this past year.

“Hey, what’s up?”, Marko said, half in his drunken stupor. “How can this poor humble soul serve you my highness?”, he asked. Something about Marko always calmed her, tonight however, Laura felt a chill down her spine. Marko was calm as usual, but the way he answered made all the difference apparently! Laura sat bolt upright on her bed, holding onto her knees for fear of the feet running away elsewhere. She lit a cigarette, she despised smokers and also the fact that over the past few months she did keep a pack at home. She’d started smoking off late, though it was restricted to only those nights that she felt this angst rise within her.

She coughed, a puff of smoke fleeing her nostrils. As she paced around the room she thought of the one thing that had always helped her. It was funny but it was effective, sadly though, she had no supply left with her. She thanked her stars for having chosen the telephone plan she had, she could call all her friends free of cost for an unlimited amount of time.”Hey sweety, what is it?”, answered a voice all too familiar from the other side, Her go to person Jess had obliged, once again. She did sound a bit woozy, but Laura couldn’t care any less at the moment. She’d discussed her dreams with Jess at length. Jess a student of psychology had always been intrigued by Laura, rather her dreams. She had made it her mission to find out the connection, rather the events behind her dreams, which she firmly believed to exist.

Jess had begun work on Laura’s dreams about a week after they met, it had been close to a year now, and she was still working. Every time she dreamt of something, Laura would call Jess and narrate the entire incident. What flummoxed Jess time over and again was how Laura’s dreams were all based in a war in Syria. She’d always dreamt of an escape from a war torn region, running her socks out just to ensure she lived another day while her entire family was destroyed by the war. Why a girl who’d lived all her life in Mexico and who knew nothing about Syria saw such a dream was what she’d been searching the answer for. Was there something in her past which she had been hiding from everyone? Was there something about herself which Laura knew not about??? The quest was on, with Jess hot in pursuit.

When the skies sang a different tune.

‘Such a wonderful day I had experienced not for a long time indeed, so long that I’d actually forgotten what it felt like to have such a good day. Tensions and workload at work were at an all-time high, trouble with the girlfriend had now become difficult to restrict to a couple of times daily, the accident had rendered the car and self both in the workshop, friends had moved on; a lot had happened in the past couple of years.” thought Gekas.

Gekas was on the first day of his first holiday in eight years, an achievement he was the first employee to receive in the firm. Today, he felt no pressure, balance sheets didn’t depend on his detailing, the stocks wouldn’t take a hit. He also felt a huge emptiness inside of him. Never in the past five years had he experienced so much free time in hand. Work had become his life lately. Apart from work and his girlfriend, he had virtually no other social interaction.

This day he decided to spend at the beach. The sea where as a child he spent the bulk of his time, had been avoided over the past decade. The sea always had the ability to bring out the child within him, this was also the reason he avoided it. The sea also had this uncanny ability to make him fall sick, and hence had been avoided as far as possible. Today though the weather was warm, a light breeze blew by him, there were just the right types of clouds and number as well. The sun was playing hide and seek ensuring that even when out, the temperature did not increase drastically. This was good, especially when he had decided to spend his vacation here.

He sat there staring into the vast expanse, feeling tiny and soaking up the atmosphere. Children were playing, building sand castles, pretty girls were sunbathing, well so were a significant number of others who he cared little about. Athletes were training, dogs having fun, and families out on picnics, then there were the surfers, the bunch who always looked good no matter what; even if a wave had just totally decimated their style! He had missed so much all these years, the sun on his face, the light breeze, took him to a different place, a different age altogether.

He was no longer seated, he was walking ahead, there was someone with him though, hand in hand. He looked at here and smiled, she smiled back, but who was she?? And how long ago was this? He felt younger; a good ten years, life seemed to be oozing out of every minute part of his body – resembling a temple of constant activity. The internal energy radiated and so did the happiness, a happiness one could experience only when he was carefree, this was Gekas alright, but one who most people did not recognize.

What had changed then to make this happy, energy bundle a dull, monotonous, lifeless soul, one that had by now achieved machine status! Who was the person with him who seemed to share synonymous emotions, and where were they now?

Gekas stood up, dusting the sand off his hands and clothing, he proceeded towards the sea, the only thing that both frightened and endeared him both at the same time. He looked up at the sky, he hadn’t realized the passage of time. It was sunset already, the sky turned orange and other hues, the air-crafts had left a wonderful pattern in the sky, streams of white criss-crossing each other at frequent intervals, he counted 12 such intersections visible to him, many more unseen. He sat down again, then lay down, flat on his back, looking at the spectacle above that only nature could give, and listened to the sea grunt and roar from time to time. It consumed him like nothing else could, he was lost in trance, spinning away, the smile on his face widening. The holidays were already worth it.

It was funny how in the past decade he had underestimated the power of nature, being one with it; no amount of money could buy that, the sense of calm and relief that could be derived from plunging into nature. The joints he’d smoked up over the years in an attempt to calm his nerves had failed miserably in comparison to today, why then did he ever depend on them?

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IN THE HAZE

The lights went out and the eyes closed, or was it the other way around? I had been transported into another world all together. It felt unfamiliarly light, bordering on floaty, if that ain’t a word; too bad,  that’s the only thing that comes even remotely close to what I felt then. My eyelids shut tight as I battled my brain in an attempt to open them, fear had now set in. I was beginning to panic, this alien feeling was now beginning to consume me.

Suddenly, they opened up, I could now see what lay ahead, or so I thought until I realised it was all black. Was it really pitch black? Not a speck of light coming from any corner at all?? I frantically turned around in an attempt to see the tiniest speck of light, colour, movement; anything that re-assured me of my vision! I waited, but there was no reassuring response. Sitting up my arms automatically stretched outwards, feeling for things, resigned to fate the brain was now in overdrive. What exactly had happened? How did it go from being a wonderful day with sunshine after so many gloomy ones to one where I had been stolen of the very sunshine of my life.

Lost in thought, worried more than anything else, I felt around to see if I could make sense of the situation, to figure where it was that I was now located. Not a sound to be heard either, nothing even remotely familiar. Had i lost the ability to hear as well?? A cold chill ran down my spine, I shuddered, something cold had touched my arms. Suspended I was in mid air now, something superhuman had gripped my arms like the talons of an eagle, I felt like a rat that had fallen prey: petty and insignificant.

As I hung there suspended in mid air disgusted and disappointed with myself I saw life, as a whole, the essence of it. This is probably what death felt like, one probably felt light and funny and unimportant during their travel to the “other- better place”. “Gary, Where are you honey?” a voice sounded. Who’s voice was it, and who was Gary but most importantly where was I??? The suspense was killing, what was worse is I did not know if I was truly alive or in a transient state.

The speakers started blaring, “take me back to the paradise city,” it sang, a track way too familiar but also one, the implications of which at this moment was questionable, I shuddered; more so in an attempt to convince myself of life within. as the speakers continued, I heard more voices, however none of them seemed familiar. I seemed to have been transported to a new world altogether, one so new, the only thing I could relate to was the track still playing out of the speakers, wait! “What was my name again??” “Who am I?”

I heard people banging on the door, “Wake up you ass! Enough of sleeping Michael! Get your butt out!!” The banging on the door continued, “Was I Michael?”, I wondered.

The alarm rang and my eyes opened, this time though to be greeted by sunshine! The birds were chirping in the trees, and the smell of fresh coffee, a beautiful day it promised to be. Dizzy and dazed I tried standing up, my feet touched the ground and I did stand up. The state of trance seemed to have abated but woah! That was something. Pretty graphic for a dream or rather a nightmare it was. As I sip my coffee and try to remember the events of the night, I draw a blank, one puff of the joint besides and it all comes back!

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Shit this thing is strong!