Light and Darkness

He was born of light. That’s the first remembrance he had of the world around him. Bright light that was stunning, yet soft to the eye. Light which some said came from a thousand splendid suns and yet never burnt anything it touched. Light that dispelled all evil around it and filled ones heart with hope.

His heart rejoiced. The world beneath was full of possibilities and as he descended down the rainbow, he saw his work cut out. He was born of light; born to remove darkness; born to remove all the muck that had settled in on the world. He was born for greatness. And yet, he knew that he did not crave for it. Neither did it matter to him if the resounding roar of applause would be absent. He did it for Light.

He worked through the filth of mediocrity knowing at every step that his task was cut out in the future. The light reminded him of sabres slicing through ignorance.

And he never noticed the webs slowly ensnaring his legs.

After years of practice, he was ready, to fly, to reach for the heavens above and transcend into a new reality, taking everything around him to the Promised Land.

As he neared the end of his training, he noticed the black threads for the first time. The webs had gotten stronger but not stronger than his will. He was after all, born of the light. They could wait. He had to become the best first.

Then one day as he readied to fly away, a searing pain ripped his body apart. The chains were unbreakable. He pulled and pulled, but slowly the darkness crawled towards him, the light began to dim. He heard the combined gasps of people around, the ones who had waited for deliverance and the ones who he had failed. He sank, lower and lower, till the last speck of light was blotted out.

Epilogue: He woke up bathed in neon lights. The thousand suns had given way. The glasses were tinted with multiple colours. He looked around. There were so many like him, a room full of people with tinted glasses, accepting the neon hallucination for reality. They all felt familiar. He looked at himself and did not recognize the face he saw. There was an unspeakable void within him and his past was lost forever.

What he did not know that they were all once born of light. And they all had failed.

The Birth of Edward

Henry bid goodbye to his friends. Good men all of them. They have been worried about him for sometime now. He knew they were concerned but he himself could not put his finger onto what was wrong with him. There have been strange dreams. He had been alive in those dreams, alive in a different way. Sometimes his hand inadvertently moved to harder liquor than his standard ginger ale. He couldn’t for the love of God figure out why. Speaking of God, he was once a regular to the Church and yet recently the sermons irritated him.

Power, passion, glory once held no meaning for him. He was enamoured with the seeking of knowledge but now his gait was changing. He desired attention, he desired prominence. Somewhere things were no longer the same. He tossed and turned in his bed wondering where life was leading him. He no longer knew. Yet it felt exhilarating. There was something intoxicating in dabbling with the immoral. The succour received from the dark of the night filled him with an unknown pleasure. And even then everything felt like a dream, one from which there was no turning back.

The question was did he want to turn back?

He knew what was going on in the minds of his friends. They missed the innocent, almost child like Henry. Yes, he did too. But then, every child has to grow up one day? Don’t they? Oh, God, he was so confused. He loved the moments when he could retaliate, give it back. He felt miserable later as he had always believed that it was such a waste of energy but something pushed him to do it. He was also being lately unable to leave behind emotions while dealing with people. He was no longer detached from the people around him. Earlier he felt at peace with himself, these days he left alive in an animal sort of way.

He waved goodbye to his friends. As he brushed his teeth, he saw Edward for the first time. It was a fleeting glance but he could never forget that face staring back at him from the mirror.

That night, they say Edward was born.

(But stories can change. New ages require new endings and we shall wait for ours)

Fear

It was an afternoon like any other. I was at the market, trying to see if any nuggets of consumer insight could come my way. The wait was in vain. All approach roads to Muzaffarpur had been cut off. The feeder market was servicing itself and trying to stay alive. And then suddenly it happened.

A cycle came running in from the direction of the Akaharaghat Bridge. The rider seemed in a state of shock. The traders were out from their shop in an instant. The man stabilized after a moment and then gave the news. The embankments on the sides of Gandak had given away. The water was moving in and would soon flood the last remaining island in the district, the city of Muzaffarpur.

They say bad news travels fast. I still have the news alert sent on my mobile by Airtel, “Buri Gandak dam has given away”. Within minutes I saw the market clear off. The main city market bore the desolate look it adorns at night and I stood there wondering. After a long time in my life, I saw panic in the eyes of the people around me, i could sense the fear in the atmosphere. We were like mice trapped in a cage which some cruel boy playfully was letting down into a bucket full of water. Nature was playing with us.

The entire incident took place in exactly 8 minutes and yet, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Fear, it cripples even the sense of time.