Thursday, March 19, 2015

Act 3

He woke up to rain today. Washing the windows. He got up and switched on the lights. The monsters had left. Maybe.
Rain was screaming, as if letting him know of its presence.
He puffed one out at the mirror and it spread. Just like his thoughts. One thought when hits the roadblock spreads into millions. 
He picked up the script.
I hope they abandon me. I hope they don't want me back. Monsters are creeping every second. 


Tonight he took the fight to his own wooden backyard 
He stood there alone 
There were no audience 
Neither there was a mirror 
There were but an empty set of chairs
He was all by himself 
He knew the monsters would come 
And he waited 
Until they came 
They gripped his body 
Making it impossible for him to move 
Tonight he fought back 
With all his strength 
With all his will 
He looked them into their eyes 
Tonight there was no fear 
Tonight there was one monster fighting another 
he choked the lives out of them 
Tonight he had finally won 
The monsters were gone 
And He stood there alone 
On his wooden backyard 


He was right there. His soul into the heart of storm and his body facing nothing but empty chairs. It was a strange act. Never before he stood before no one.  
He had a mirror back home for company. Not anymore. He shattered it just before he left. 
It was a long walk. The stairs were broken and railing rusted. He couldn't hold them. They were too right for him. 
How can someone end a story with a scream? He thought  
You can start a story with a scream but you can't end it with one.
It must have been a writer's block, just like  when actor's go blank. Pity. 
He stepped on the wooden plank. There were no curtains and no spotlights tonight, just him.
Never before he had felt this fear. 
"Writer hasn't written off the monsters yet", he thought. 
He didn't carry the script with him. How difficult it would be to scream. As easy as shattering a mirror?


His feet were cold
And whatever left on his right was even colder.
He wanted to sleep before the sun rises;
At least tonight. 
He longed for sleep and hoped his entire left didn't wake up; 
At least tonight.
Some part of him wanted him to sleep.But the other was right.
There were Chirps and melodies to his left 
And Metal and chaos to his right 
He had to choose.
Between left and right.
Instead he had questions 


You hate her? 
No I don't, I always loved her 
Did she ? Said the voice 
"I don't know. The script says nothing about it. It only says I fell in love with her". He said. 
"She must have loved u. That's the sole reason she is mentioned in the script". Said the voice.
"Or may be she didn't. And the only reason this part is written because it was her love which turned me into this".
Turned u into what?
You don't see guys talking to a mirror every day. Do you ??


Stick your knife into my heart and claim your victory
See me bleed to death ... Gasping for air
In your defense tell them....
Tell them I didn't love you
Tell them u had reason to kill 
Tell them your knife was righteous
Tell them I had a heart of man
And U had to break it..soften it
So that its easier to Pierce
Tell them its your perfect kill..
Claim it as your prize.


I hope someday it will all fade away
There will be no more memories 
All that we were will have no lights 
Our faces will be lost in our minds 
All the words we said will not echo anymore
I hope we live long with one person less and a feeling lost
I hope someday we will walk past as perfect strangers
And I hope against hope
That day never comes or comes soon

The confession

I am a man of my words", he said
And I have meant every word of it.
It was not a boy who said that to a girl
It was a man's confession 
Not in the front of a priest 
Or the world
Just to the person who needed to know it
Trust. It was a man who said it
Man of his words
And he meant it.
Every bit of those three words. 

Act 2

Hi dimmed the lights and pushed the chair away from the mirror. He wanted to stand there. 
"But why ?"
I think its time. The demons are getting better of me. I m not the same. I sense defiance inside. I feel a rebel breaking my spirit. Its the monster coming out I think. 
"What went wrong"
Smirk said the script 
That's y may be angels are worshiped. You can let them out. Let them possess you. Try that with demons once. 
You are not the same person anymore.
"You still haven't answered me"
You see Love is an equation of angel and demons. And true love is equilibrium. I am a person who believes in equilibrium but there is too much of devil in me. Once unleashed it'll destroy the good in me. 
There won't be any angels, just monsters. 
That's why I want to leave. The good in me is already consumed,  what's left is pure evil. I don't want to them to question their choice.
"They'll understand"
He switched the lights off, and then there were monsters.

The beginning

He got up and emptied his ashtray into trashcan. His feet still wobbled, so did his mind. The bottle was empty by now. "I have to leave" he said. 
But you promised that you'll never. 
Yes, I did. Its strange you see, what once seemed to be the right thing to do, is no longer relevant. Circumstantial. Its all circumstantial. Love, religion, faith. Even you being here. 
"I'll be always there with you. I can't leave no matter what", said the voice.
See, that's exactly what I said years ago. I am telling you its circumstantial. Things change, people change and so does reality.  Its simple mathematics. Add a variable into an equation and it changes everything. 
Reality is perceived, by our own mind. We create our own realm of realities and we live in them all our lives. Reality is also circumstantial. What seemed real back then  now seems unreal, to the same mind in different circumstances.

He looked into the mirror, and found himself sitting on the chair. He was right when he said he'll always be there with him.

He glanced at the script. He didn't miss a dialogue today.