I had just left the gentle embrace of sleep, my eyes had started to open and I could feel he blobby dirt at the ends. And there she was, sitting majestically on my chair. Her legs were crossed and rested on my bed on which I was sleeping till then. I was lying, and reclining there she sat smiling at the ceiling. Her hairs were messed up, and it appeared as if she had woken a few moment back.
“Good morning”, she said.
“Fck morning, why am I even dreaming about you. This stupid brain, ah wait, I’ll pinch myself till you disappear.”
The pinches felt, I was not dreaming. I was hallucinating. But why you, of all the people in the world, the heartless egocentric, narcissist, who had in her cynical self interest had ruthlessly jilted me for a man who had a better jaw line. I don’t blame the good man, it is you who knew everything, you called the shots.
“You don’t even deserve to be here, why am I hallucinating about you.”, I shouted.
“Well sweetheart, you are the one hallucinating, you do know it”, she said smiling.
Since the day we had severed contact I had brokered my peace with solitude, unsolicited and unkempt solitude, with only one wish, that to escape the thoughts. They were killing me, my current disposition and tryst with time did not even leave me with enough breath to mourn the end of a blossoming relationship and a friendship which spanned over half a decade.
I remember the cursed one month, each day I would lie lifeless, the sun would get up and go, and I would mechanically go about reading one thing to another, watching movies alone in the theatres, I could run distances, eight kilometers without stopping and without feeling a tinge in my muscles. I had stopped feeling, and this time truly made me realise how one could be dead while alive, can be anorexic even with the lungs working fine, the heart beating, the ink writing. But who was to blame for this predicament, no one, it was just the situation life had thrown upon me, and I, boy I was not underprepared, I was unprepared. I survived though, I survived somehow.
“I don’t know ma’am, why are you here ?’ I again exhorted her.
“Because you won’t let me go!”, she replied.
I would not let her go ? Who was I to keep her, who was she to stop me ? I did not speak up, I looked at her eyes. They were not fixed now, they were gliding to and fro like the eyeballs of a four year old, gazing intently out of the window of the train. Those eyes which although are delighted at every passing sight, fail to capture the beauty of the one that just passed, fixated at a new scenery. Those eyes which rush through everything in life without ever drinking into anything. This was uncanny, it transported me straight to the last time I had met her in the cafe, her eyes were gliding in the same manner, my intently fixed at her, I still could look into her eyes, she could not, she dared not, she lacked both the courage and the strength to look into the depth of my eyes.
“Go now, it’s ok, end this hallucination, I see that my mind is still playing it’s monkey tricks over me.”, I said.
“I will, but for now, why are you seeing me, why do I still appear ‘majestic’ to you, even after the slurs that you have identified me with.” she mocked me.
“I think you were right when you said I did not let you go, but what else can I do for you, heap apt praises upon you so that you can rationalize your actions and feel deliverance. Do you want me to call you names, vent out my anger ? To curse you ? So that the already exceptionally guilt free exit that I have given you is further decked with a velvet carpet.”, my agitation choked me.
“I am a hallucination darling, it will be for you and you only that you will be doing whatever you decide to”, she said plainly.
“Will this leave me in the absence of your thoughts that torment me every passing day, even after all these months.” I replied.
“You’ll never know, if you’ll never try! Maybe yes!”, the gin broadening upon her face.
“Cliche coldplay ! Poor choice, you should have taken up something jazzier, maybe a Sinatra, ‘I did it my way”. Nevertheless, I will start.”, and I stopped, my mind refused to answer, I was ashamed of my own ineptness to word all those forebearings I had in my heart for months, mind and heart, they broke apart too it seems.
“Duh ! Thus is insulting even to my hallucination, you joker; in your ill fitting attire of powerless chivalry and gentleness, you hide your complete lack of courage. You are a fake, you cannot feel, you are an egotist whose assumed sense of self proclaimed righteousness will allow everything to be destroyed but it’s useless pride. I hate you mister, I even your own hallucination hates you.” tears welled up her eyes and they crossed over her eyelids to dive onto her supple cheeks to the floor where they vaporized. These were true ones, they were neither the ones that a situation forces, not the ones that arise out of the desire to suppress emotions, the other types flow from the corner of the eyes. These were pure and original tears my beautiful hallucination was shelling.
“This is who I am, whosoever I am, I wish for deliverance, nothing else, hopes I had already set on fire and sprinkled the ashes on the field that spans across your home. Cab’t you see me ? I don’t know if you feel guilty, but even the thought of me making you feel so, makes me miserable. We will never know and we will never be free, this is the best way I suppose.”, I said as I saw her tears drying up.
I was sitting close to her and her fast warm breath was breezing across the skin of my palm, which held her hands. Her eyes were gently looking at my imperfect lips as mine were staring at her brown anemic lips with deep scarlet lines etched on them. We leaned in, and suddenly I could feel her index finger on my forehead, the tears had started again. She pushed me back with the index finger, and I fell into endless light, which finally took the shape of a circular fluorescent overhead.
“The carbon monoxide poison had knocked him off for a good six hours, he will regain consciousness in sometime.”, the doctor said.
“It’s a miracle he escaped doctor, when we barged into his door, the legs of his bed had already caught fire, everything else in the room was burning, and there he lay sleeping as if in some eternal spell amidst the infernal rings.”
(a work of fiction)