*Writes something as epic as the description of hell in Paradise Lost*
Okay, something horrific and terrible is going on but I can’t tell you what coz…duh…Plot twist!!!
But don’t worry, no one is going to run around the mean streets of New York with nothing but the guidance of GPS at the end.
(Author can’t express due to insufficient vocabulary and extreme languorousness)
Okay I am tryin’
The Place was so dark that even darkness wasn’t visible and I was constantly hearing lots of people screaming and shouting. The only words that I could make out through the muffled screams were that they wanted to get out of that dark dungeon to get a glimpse of air and if possible breathe it in through the pages of their hearts.
Then something strange happened, I opened my eyes and what I saw left me speechless.
I was amongst the millions of those tired and frustrated souls out there.
I felt the consciousness filling my body as a freshly made tea fills the morning cuppa, but it didn’t freshen me up nor did my eyes sparkle at that prospect, but it made me feel the pain that I was in, and that was the only time when I wished that I ceased to be.
The excruciating pain became more prominent by the moment, and interestingly enough when something pains it is then when you want to use it the most.
The dark scenario is still so vividly written in my mind that whenever someone tries to open me they see how badly someone had previously used me.
I don’t demand anything from them, nor do they give me, but they use me, time and time again, they laugh, cry and do what not in front of me while I only remain silent and provide the entertainment they desire. The truth my friend is that I am still inside that
Infernal hell hole with no one picks me up the remove the dust from my body.
Yes, I am ugly! Therefore have selected takers, people with different tastes who see what’s in me choose me and I try my best not to disappoint them.
People do judge a book by its cover, and me I am a bloody Book! And I have no cover because it has been replaced time and time again due to the wear and tear that our past masters have afflicted on us. But here I am, lying amidst my compatriots, in the woeful corner of this ancient book shop whose ancient owner sells ancient books.
Now, I really must go because the customer is asking for Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis, and I know that is my name, it’s my turn again, after such a long time, to move about, tell that same old story, inflict some more marks of pains on myself and lower my value in that process. We will meet again but then it will be a long time my friend and then only will I see you again.
Image Courtesy: Google Images and Self