Friday, February 06, 2009

broken shells




I turned in my bed and tried counting sheep again. I have been doing this for the past three weeks. I need to see a doctor I guess... or this might very well turn into some complicated form of insomnia... that is, if it already hasn’t done that. I was always a light sleeper. Lights and noise were enough to keep me up for hours. But these days, the house is dark and quiet. It is the loudness of my thoughts that makes me an insomniac, or on the verge of becoming one.
Soon... I say to myself... soon...

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I saw him for the first time in the railway station. And somehow, my eyes just lingered on him. It was not because of the ‘electricity in the air’. It was just because he was tall, very tall. And he hefted the big bag he had so easily... I am sure all the girls in the station were staring at him too. And my fervent prayers were answered the moment I sent it up. He sat in the coupe where I was. I glanced at him shyly... on and off... He was reading ‘Fountainhead’... my then favourite. And no, it was not fate. I certainly don’t believe that.
We started speaking somehow... I don’t remember how it started. All I know is that we ended up talking for hours, and I did feel a connection with him... we ‘vibed’ well together.

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He had gotten down in the night to get me some water. The train started moving and he hadn’t noticed. I shouted... He ran behind the train, and was almost on the last step when he slipped.

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I can’t live with myself anymore. Soon... I tell myself...soon. I’ll soon gain the courage to kill myself for killing him.

12 comments:

Matangi Mawley said...

gr8 narration!

The Mind Bedouin said...

:::dear matangi:::
thank you so much, first of all, for the visit... i m happy you liked the piece .. :)

vrinda said...

hmmm.....but why? how did she kill him? am slighlty vague there...but yes, grt way of telling the story

The Mind Bedouin said...

:::dear vrinda:::
in the paragraph before that, i mentioned how he had gotten down to get her some water... and how she shouted to him, which is how he got to kno the train was leaving...
when somebody we care about dies, many of us find some reason to go on guilt trips, to assume responsibility for it.. merely because we are alive and the other is not... in this story, she feels guilty for havin been the reason for him gettin out of the train, and also for making him run behind the train later.. it may seem nonsensical, but this is an extremely normal, realistic behaviour.. :) ... hope i answered your question, though in a long-winded fashion!!!

MAN IN PAINTING said...

nice one.
wishes
take care

vrinda said...

oh...i missed tht he'd gotten down to get water FOR her...sorry... :)

crumbs said...

oh how morose =/
this world needs more happy endings, methinks.

Sonal said...

loved it! eagerly awaiting more posts

The Mind Bedouin said...

:::dear mip::
sorry for the long delay... life seemed to run faster than me at times...

but ya... thanks... u tc too!

The Mind Bedouin said...

::dear vrinda:::

i m glad u at least took this much pain in reading it!

The Mind Bedouin said...

::: dear crumbs :::

lol!!! but u know somethin.. i feel like writing mostly wen i m feeling blah... so ya.. it somehow ends up bein reflected in my writing... :) ill try n encourage myself to write more wen i m happy... :)

The Mind Bedouin said...

:::dear sonal:::
thanks for visiting... :)

and ya,... glad u liked it..