When you are injured…be physically or mentally– it leaves a mark
Can a mark really alter your approach to reality?
Can it play with the very notion of truth?
With Ink Elan I bring a quasi-fictional (*wink wink*) experience to life
“Observations of an injured mind” (click it)
Please leave your feedbacks, they are important to me.
Nothing special about today you know, yet here I am scribblin’ away about the happenings o’ the day for you my sister.
The day was extraordinarily ordinary, regular stuff happenin’ the way it should.
At Ten o’clock sharp in the morn I jostled my way through the dizzy streets and finally reached my destination: my cubby hole in the office (which I had graciously accepted).
After signing below MACEY in blue bold letters (yes we have a register for cryin’ out loud), I sat down in my rusty chair and started making certain arrangements.
After a few moments, I heard muffl’d voices emanating from the grandiose chamber just in front o’ my humble abode. The ‘show’ as I understood, was ON. It was that good ol’ hag again, his favourite nourishment amongst many others.
I, on the other hand, work behind the scenes and prefer to relish the magic on stage. He brings people in, shows off his guns n’ whistles whilst I keep ‘em polished and prevent ‘em from gettin’ any wee scratches.
Okay, the hag is about to leave now, which means it’s my time to look after his needs once again. As soon as the octogenarian was out of earshot, I received his call in a broken voice.
He, ‘Boss’ as people like to call him sat like a duck, drenched in his own tears.
“Not again!” said I and rush’d inside his office to console him.
“How will I pay for all this? The green leather armchair? The electric heating? The bloody wine cellar!?” he whimpered.
“How many times do yea need me to tell yea that I’ll take care of all that? huh?!” replied I with a reassuring tone.
He picked his turquoise blue tie with shaking hands and said while dabbing gently at his wet bloodshot eyes “It was all for him, all for him” and broke down again while pointing towards a picture of a grim looking boy in a soldier’s uniform.
It was my turn to do something else I would lose him forever, that can’t be good!
So, I went beside him and whispered in his ears “If you are his father, I am his godfather too, you aren’t the only one with responsibilities! Now, do yea want to sacrifice all our efforts down the drain?” Yes, my words were having an effect on him, I could see him clenching his teeth and practising a firm jaw. “Now stop acting like a child and do what you are here for… play the BOSS for god’s sake!”
No teary-eyed reply came shooting back. He was gone, the ‘Boss’ had finally replaced him for good.
He then gestured me to return to my cubby hole to which I replied with a smirk.
The door chime signalled the arrival of a new client/guest to be taken ‘care’ of. One glance told me it was Katherine, crazy girl, thinks that I am a servant here, well that’s a “win-win” situation for me to be honest. As soon as she entered I gave up the stern demeanour and bade her “good evening” in a very docile voice.
Rumour has it, that the girl writes, god knows if she has written about us as well.
This story was originally intended as prequel/sequel to Katherine Mansfield’s The Fly, which on much introspection I decided to give a stand alone appeal.
Contributed to Ink Elan for observing 23rd https://www.facebook.com/inksfromyoursoul/photos/a.1388273137878638.1073741829.986575891381700/1740521299320485/?type=3&theater
The ‘chamber’ was up in flames; every nook and corner of the much dreaded ‘machine’ set ablaze by the monster himself. The entire place was drenched with the stench of ‘crudity’. He couldn’t take it anymore, his universe seemed to crumble in front of his eyes and he could do nothing about it.
His mouth is shut and he must scream, his feet are tied and he must run.
The contradictions of his life had shot through the roof so he decided to burn. Empowered with many theories and fictions alike, it was the only suitable option left for him.
He shaved his hair, trimmed his nails and took a long bath to try and clean himself for the ‘final cleansing’.
He felt his senses alienating themselves from his body as he started to devour them, one at a time. Having ripped himself to the ‘bare essentials’ he began his journey in the search for truth.
A foot long trail of blood formed like a red carpet behind him as he walked to welcome anyone who was willing to accompany him.
The main ‘brain’ behind the whole operation was hidden in some deep dark dungeon and he had to overcome the obstacles of the soul in order to reach there.
So, when he came near, he wasn’t afraid, he dived forward and attacked it with all his might. One after the other he eliminated all his obstacles and was left only with the ‘brain’ behind the entire conspiracy.
As soon as he saw it, he felt a darkness, a tangible darkness engulfing him for eternity, but he wasn’t the one to give in so easily.
He fought with all his might but couldn’t help as he had to rip out the heart from his body to survive in front of the brain, and so he did, as a heartless zombie!
The man was a man of letters and reason, anything without logic and explanations had no place in his life at all. Therefore he had set out on a quest to resolve and find the logic behind all the mysteries of the universe and so he did. He did get what he aspired for: complete rationality but a price had to be paid in return, a sacrifice had to be made; which was his subjectivity and individuality.
In his quest for rationality, he had given his all and had lost the ability to comprehend the basic pleasures and joys of life.
The room that I am taking to you right now might make you rethink your life all over again, so please be quiet. I want you not to let out any unnecessary gasps of despair or sheer amazement.
Sometimes I will be speaking to you just for the heck of it; might not make any sense and I will also pause certain moments to explain what’s going on. So please leave your grammarian brain in the refrigerator. (I will twist and turn the narration and tense laws also, so if that makes your pinocchioan nose tickle, I am sorry!)
Hurry up!!(Oh, you’ve gone deposit your brain)
place your hand above mine and imagine that I am professor Dumbledore.
Ok, you have made it without puking all Over Me. You might just consider this as the best achievement of your life if you have been living any.
-Who is there.
Hey, I am your sis; called by the name of Neme.
-What do you want.
I was wondering if I could show you’re crib to a special friend of mine.
-It’s ‘your’ you idiot, Has the Facebook comment section taught you nothing.
I am sorry sir will you please let me in.
I have to pause it here, pay attention. Since you are drawn to the unnatural, I have taken you here today. His name is Mr.Eriko Inen, and as you can well see his apartment looks more like a zoological survey.
His Peculiar interest lies in pets…
He has almost everything from a stray dog to a dodo which you might as well know to be extinct, but not in his universe. Sherlock Holmes also would blush by looking at his organisational skills.
Hold your horses I am coming to the peculiarity.
Come to this room.
All the pets that I told you about where babies, mewling and sucking at the nurse’s arm or a little embryo that is still developing in the cryo tubes.
None of them…
None of them were adults!
When I first saw this I was as curious as you are now,
What happens to them when they grow?
That’s the question that you have in your mind, don’t you?
But you are in luck, as I have the answer to that question.
Mr.Eriko Inen, wasn’t always like this you see, he too had a family, a love of his life, a child who didn’t live long enough to grow into an adult; snake venom!
Seeing his child contort his face to death drove Inen crazy which led his wife to leave him as well.
Since then the motto of his life has been to keep young animal species not what you call pets, oversee their early stages of life and just when they start to understand the value of a parent…
Do you know what he did then? No, he didn’t kill them off, that’s too easy. He abandoned them! There is a zoo, in the opposite lane….his zoo….where he keeps his grown animals; visits but once a year.
The sadistic pleasure that he gets
in seeing all his ‘pets’
screaming to get near their daddy,
clawing at the cages, vigorously giddy.
Stands Inen at a distance carrying the smile of a devil
savours the chorus of crisis and leaves the evil.
He wanted…” the inferior animals” (he called them that) to understand the pain of a parent, who could have been near but isn’t so!
People hail Inen as a great supporter of animal life; some loathe him as well…If only they knew! If only they knew!
I am going to push the play button now.
-So, how was your little conducted-lesson?
-You might as well leave now.
We opened the mirror and left his apartment called ‘dimension’…
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Before furnishing me with a garland made of various invectives from every part of speech, allow me to justify myself.
No! This special message won’t have pixelated beams shooting from every possible direction of the screen. So, what is it?
At the swansong of the years that has gone by and those that are going to go by, people have and will stuff their heads with unnecessary optimism, as if the next year is going be a Karan Johar movie. Nothing different is the scenario this year, as the end beckons the same scripted statuses spring up on Facebook displaying their empyreal will power.
(I am not even mentioning the messages on Whatsapp, by the way, Who invented GIFs? If you know him/her(to please the feminists) Kindly inform him/her to meet me on the sidewalk.)
People have hopes in such height that even gravity can’t help but be seduced to make it come crashing down. Clearly, that does not happen and it’s the root cause of unhappiness in our lives.
P.S- Ardent John Oliver fans know what I am talking about by now
Take 2016 for example, which is an embodiment of the word ‘disappointment’.
Let’s roll back a little bit in not a very chronological manner, shall we?
(Didn’t have much of a choice there did you?)
2016’s feathers in its cap were,
Unleashing the deadly Zika virus and threatening the foetuses, actually, you did a generous deed here, you spared the pain of those to enter this hell on earth a.k.a 2016.
All the merciless hate crimes that you unleashed upon thousands of innocents in the name of God.
That Migrant Crisis bro?
Why do you need to clear so much space in the middle east?
For Rohit Shetty to blow up cars? Huh?
And why did you exactly collapse that bridge? Needed a new Slide?
And, man oh man oh man… I am not getting into Politics…. What were you smokin’ man?
I don’t who was the script writer for this year but I must this that you’re no less than a sadist, taking away all our beloved people: our sorrow makes you sneer doesn’t it?
The entire year was nothing but a never ending funeral!
I won’t give a big list, but no matter what u try, we will remember them, “ALWAYS”!
That wasn’t even 2016 in a nutshell! You still have hopes for 2017?
So, please don’t have so many expectations for this year, think of it as the worst year ever! Come What may, we will survive as we always have!
But, I won’t take this rant any further coz I found this on google,
I’m Jus Sayin! xD
I finally I can say….
A VERY VERY UNHAPPY NEW YEAR
Please make way, I need to listen to my ‘Angel’ once more to see ‘Eye to Eye’ again!
Hodor! Please hold the door for me, I need to get out
Carryminati,EIC,Youtube Spotlight,Watch Mojo,Actualol,Last Week Tonight,Syracuse.com
and Google Images.
*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
Dee wasn’t feeling really good that day. Her fur wasn’t shining bright nor did she have that familiar glint in her eyes. She kept unusually quiet and the little girl complained that she wasn’t even willing to play either. As time passed by, the problem grew more serious. Flies started to hover around her, yet the health cautious and easily irritated Dee kept remarkably silent.
It was time for some action as Dee wasn’t getting any better which caused the little girl to sulk even more. The elders decided to give Dee some new clothing to start with. The new cloth which she would be getting underwent some lengthy preparation as it was preserved in some kind of a jelly-like-substance for a long time. There were rumours that the new skin belonged to someone really close to Dee of which she had no idea about. After a fortnight, Dee was presented with her new and authentic clothes from the Derma brand. The little girl seemed the most excited as she repeatedly told everyone that “Dee wasn’t looking skinny anymore!”
After putting the new clothes on, she was given an extravagant bath with all the modern chemicals and stuff to reduce the infection. That good old glow was coming back.
But, something was still missing, and the girl was constantly nagging her mother about that.
The problem was finally identified after a long time, it was with the eyes, which looked pale as ever. They were also taken care of and the glassy shine returned to her eyes.
Finally, she was stuffed, which brought an end to a lengthy process.
The little girl seemed really happy now, as Dee was willing to play again.
In another room, a middle-aged lady handed some payment over to a shady looking man and said
“Thank You for treating her,
Image courtesy:Google Images
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Dokandar is in a hurry to close his shop a little early this evening.
His wife has made his favourite kosha mangsho for dinner.
You can’t help a man falling for that,can you? *wink*
There he pulls his shutter and it comes down with the traditional “grrrrr….”.
He zips to his bicycle in a flash whilst blabbering excuses to the visibly disappointed customers.
He strokes the paddle and takes off for home sweet home.
Amidst the twirly roads with its quirky turns, dokandar babu humms his favourite tune and sometimes rubs his capon lined vintage pot belly.
CHOTU EKTI PRAN
Chotu is sleeping in the only charpoy that his Kottababu gave him.He twists and turns as the room suffocates his senses. There is only one window in the room from where the sunlight gains entry and ends its errand just before the foot of the bed. In spite of being deprived of air and light, Chotu manages to stay and work for his Kottababu .That night it got a little extra hot at some point in time and Chotu woke up with a start to realise that his room was on fire!
Bewildered at his present predicament he found himself at the storehouse of death, he couldn’t call out for help as the door was also conveniently jammed! Rest aside phones, not a single pigeon could be seen nearby!
and did it again!
Alas! It was all in vain when he stopped screaming, Mother Nature understood that the fire has engulfed him!
Somewhere, a leaf fell on the floor.
Many people were huddled up in one corner,discussing something, apparently very important and serious. All I could hear was some humdrum, nothing significant caught my ear, maybe because I was still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. As I got nearer, the “what’s and how’s” reached my ear and suddenly someone exclaimed,
“Hey, Dokandar’s here!”
Hearing my name I cycled faster to the spot and saw a little body wrapped in a dirty piece of cloth, suddenly everyone went mum, I couldn’t understand why, as I slowly removed the cloth my eyes swelled with tears.
The tiffin carrier which had some left over Kosha Mangsho fell with a clink on the road…
“Why did I leave Chotu alone that night?”
Is a question that still haunts me in my dreams.
based on a true incident