Wednesday, September 26, 2012


The wind was gravely chilling. I felt like moving no more. Wrecked at my knees, short of air in my lungs, I was drawing myself into state of Hypothermia. I remember the stress I exerted to bow down and sit, rest for a while under an icy shed. The storm had wiped out everything from my vision. Sands were overrated. Just like tiny little rocks. It was only here where I built our castle. Sands were smooth then, and lighter. In the blurred vision, only one figure was precise; a lonely girl in orange. Her bare feet had trailed a name. Shipra!


Her first glimpse asserted I could meet someone; someone who would be like me. I had always guessed chances of that happening were diminished. And so were they. The storm was needed to uncover the true face. And I was struck in middle of that storm. How long the icy shed will sustain standing, I will calculate with number of days left in my life, or may be hours. My skin which was ripped out weren't bleeding. A part of storm had entered inside me. Everything was freezing; outside me, and inside me.

Mistakes occur unknowingly. And it was not hers. It was mine. I fall in love with every woman I see, everyone who shows me the least bit of attention. But why didn't she stop then? Did she want me to taste the storm? Dark areas in my mind, where light never dared to step in, cyclonic storm was reverberating there now. Even if I see an Eskimo with his dragging cart, I will suspect it is one of the chemical secretions in those dark areas. While I was counting my time left, a big white round ice ball, with flickering bluish eyes like thing embedded on it, seemed to descend on my face. A gush of warmth, amidst polar concurrent waves is the last thing I remember.

Doctor asked me, if I was alright.
I asked, “Can I meet the person who brought me here from poles. I was struck. I don’t exactly remember how I got there.” I had consistent emotions of despair and confusions, with my brows clenched down, and tongue dried. But my doc was cheerful.
“Nobody brought you here young man. You came here all by yourself. You are here since last week. We were operating procedures on you to curb your bad memories. You wanted all your bad memories to be wiped out from inside you. You wanted to start a new life. And we have helped you. Aren't you feeling well now?”
“But why would I ever want to do that? I am a well flourished man. I am a software engineer with a good job in my hand. I, I…, I never had anything like that which I would like to get erased off me. I am a strong man.” I replied my doc, stressing on the word strong.
“Why are you telling lies to me?” I asked.
“Yes my son. You are right. I can’t tell anymore lies to you now. It was just a routine checkup. Go, see! Your mom and dad are waiting outside.” The doc patted my back hard.

“Everything is fine”, the doc said. My mom was happy to hear that. And so was my dad. 

4 comments

Wow! What a powerful, wrenching dream you describe here, Anshul. I felt that biting cold with you!
And, what a twist in the story's end - kept me hanging on to the very end.
Great job!
Blessings to you!

Reply

Interesting! :)
Beautiful description and use of words..
Best wishes to you dear .

Reply

beautiful story......

Reply

awesum as usual...

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