Cry

This is how we fuck our environment.

Photo Courtesy : Akshay

On the way

Listening to the words of death can fill anybody with fear, especially when someone is talking to chop your body parts off. Same fear ran through my fibres some days ago. Anything, with ability to move, would have gone off comprehending the notion of tools and machines placed aside, but my destiny, as presaged by nature, was paved in suffering. My base could not move an inch and I had to restrain the pain of mutilation.

The summer sun was shining intensely behind gray clouds when they brought machines to build asphalt-concrete road. There was rain sometimes, in recent days, which nurtured us with potential water. But that day I heard someone saying that they would have to cut us because we were coming in the way of their master plan.

And so they started their job. It would have been much easier if they had used chainsaw and cut off from my base but they gave me a painful treat. They started axing from the higher branches where the birds had weaved their nests but the leaves gave up and fell down and the birds had flown because they had wings. Next they chose more dense arms where the squirrels made their holes. The squirrels had scurried away because they had legs. Then finally they did my body. Each strike gave me a severe shudder, and that made me more and more detesting them. I wished I should not have produced fruits, shadows and even oxygen for them. But I was helpless because it was our destiny or duty; to live our life to provide others a life, even if they don’t care about us or environment.

I was almost dead but three days ago nature said she did not overlook us. She felt the pain which made her cry all night.

The asphalt surface is shining now as new developed things should, while the vehicles run over it at the constant speed towards their destination. And a sprout of life bloomed again on my body.


On Blog Action Day.

Sens – Wings Of Comfort

Read Sens and Sens - The Loss Of Comfort

7 years later…

Blue light in the restroom was almost dull and cigarette smoke dominated the ambience of entire room. Wash-hand basins were filthy with blots of ignorance and generosity of people to keep the public place clean. She glanced at the emptiness of atmosphere, falling on heavy drum beats ricocheting from the dusted corners. Her hands were trembling and beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, even though winter in the city froze out the flames.

Last time it was an amazing experience; of walking along with the Person, of smelling the fragrance of flowers, of swinging in the rope of clouds. Now she was nervous, and expressing the reluctance to try it again but idea of finding the same comfort, she felt years ago, forced her to tie the belt. She found a green line of metacarpal vein in her arm, and inserted a needle in it.

The moment Heroin flooded with blood-stream for temporary co-existence, the spinal cord contracted for a second, tore her back to flutter its wings and the brain responded immediately. She started to fly through the light to uncertain source, which was making grotesque shapes. The sense of comfort and happiness revisited her & boosted her to touch the shapes; the smile on her face glowed under the pristine fragrance. But after reaching to certain height, the wings disappeared.

Eventual thump laid her unconscious on the floor, and a slow flow of red liquid oozed out of her nose but she did not feel the pain.

Sens - The Loss Of Comfort

Read Sens

8 years later…

The bed sheet had imprints of suns and flowers and little cute creatures, but even they seemed to be dull and full of sense of demise. She was in her bed, lying insentient, unaware of the last rites of the Person being done but aware of comfort having been gone forever. Her reddened face had become dry as the fever did not agree to slacken.

Eventually the Nurse found vein, and inserted needle in it. The Antibiotic immediately started performing its task as it blended with blood. White blood cells were encouraged to see new friends helping with the war against melancholy. They sent a message to the Brain through neurons and it responded in some seconds.

She opened her eyes slightly. The white light was intense, which created irregular shapes; but she saw a smiling face. Her lips also curved a smile and her hands tried to reach the shape as she felt the same comfort. But the light was gone and her eyes were closed.

“The fever must release its hold by evening. The dose is quite strong,” said the Doctor.

Any conscious human would have felt that high dose, but she did not feel the pain.

9:11

“Wake up. Save your life,” a voice echoed clamorously.

He opened his eyes abruptly, sat up making grumbling noises; strand of saliva was driveling out of his mouth. He rubbed off his mouth with the cuff at right hand sleeve of his pyjama and looked up slowly where a grinding noise was coming from. Swirling grey clouds were hovering over him as waiting for him to wake up. Clash of the clouds thundered the hell out of him. He jumped out of his bed; his sleepy eyes were suddenly back into the watchfulness of surrounding. Soft, dampish green grass below his feet, were dying but he could still feel the softness of grass. He looked all over, flowers, blades of grass, trees, lovely ponds, moist on the grass, resplendence of nature, were slowly transmuted into shadow of darkness. He did not know where he was. He glanced in every direction to have a clue of the place but it was insignificant.

“Run.” again a voice echoed but this time it was more shrilling and terrifying. He turned back and thrilled to see his bed was vanished. He squinted at the only light falling briefly on his face blocking the face with hands from intenseness of light. The source was unknown to him but he was sure it was not a sun.

“Run for your life,” the voice repeated.
“Who are you and what is the danger?” he stunningly questioned the light.
“It’s no time to have questions and answers. Just go and after some time you will see for yourself what the jeopardy is.”

He realized what the Voice meant by jeopardy when he saw cloudburst of weapons spattered over from vortex of clouds. The grass below his feet turned yellow, and dried. The trees burnt to gray-ash, the pond vaporized, and the fishes in it died. Dry fields were now covered with weapons; weapons of all kind. Nuclear weapons, chemical weapons, biological weapons, missiles, guns, AK47s, bombs, rifles, pistols, knives, spears, swords swathed entire vicinity. Incineration of trees and detonation of bombs filled air with thick smoke, if it was air.

His eyes were reddening, blearing with tears. He accumulated his power and began sprinting insanely towards nowhere, unaware of the fields. Every step was giant leap forward. There were hurdles of weapons impeded his speed. There were no flowers, no trees, and no ponds but hillocks of bullets were formed.

“Watch out those weapons. Run as fast as you can.” the voice, still shrieking stridently.

The weapons rained cats and dogs over the fields and some over him. He was seriously injured but amazingly he did not lose his strength. Thickness of air asphyxiated his lungs, and stream of sweat dampened his body completely. Stumbling and still running, he exerted to inhale to save his life. His heart was thumping his chest. He did not see any living biological existence around him and up to the horizon. All he could see was weapons, smog all around which veiled the sun above. He could only smell concentrated air that choked his windpipe. He could taste only the salt of tears and sweat running over face to his mouth. He could hear only an echoing heavenly voice which distracted his mind to stop thinking and follow its command.

He stopped and looked all around, found the scene was terrifying. The shrilling voice was piercing his mind like drilling machine digging hole on road. Nobody was there to take care of him. His family, friends, beloved ones, his pet, children, animals, trees; everybody got lost; lost in fate of humankind.

He was tired of running. He sat down uncomfortably, throwing some small weapons assiduously, clearing the spot. The drool was oozing childishly from his mouth. His reddened eyes followed every hiss and fuss of light blowing air. The wounds in his body were extremely intolerable, but miraculously healing suddenly. Deafness of fields and darkness of clouds presaged the indelibility of upcoming peril.

“Come with me,” said the Man.
He turned around to see a man stood, well dressed, tidy, and unaffected as if he was unaware of the thunders. The Man offered his hand to get him up.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I am leader of most powerful country of this world,” the Man grinned.
“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” he asked again. In distance, voices of men were floating in waves, with firing of bullets soaring in air.
“We declared a war on your country. The leader of your state is tyrant and me & my military are here to free you people from his dictatorship. We are here to make your country Democratic.”

As he grabbed the hand of the Man, a bullet tore his back.
When his eyes were opened, he was full of false pain. And the time on his digital wrist watch was 9:11 PM.