"You know the bald dude? Gandhi? Father of our Nation and whatnot..."
She looked at him, upside down, sitting in the sky next to her, as he sniggered and nodded "Yeah, the bald dude..."
She ignored him "Yeah, him. Did you know he tried all the shit they warn us away from? He ate meat, drank and all, had women, and bro... BRO! He and a friend tried suicide once, too!"
She sat upright, in her excitement, looking at him through the haze and the hair falling into her eyes. He seemed to be tripping on something else completely.
"Hello?"
His eyes snapped back to her, looking at her silently for a second. "They should teach us that shit in schools and all. They teach us that we should be perfect like these people. Discipline, dedication, perseverance, blah, blah... We're programmed to fail and hate ourselves for it."
She stared at his face for a minute, trying to quell the rising urge to tell him things she shouldn't be telling him at all. Her brain wasn't as sharp as it should be, the haze was making it hard to think straight. She shook the cobwebs out, slightly and pulled the easy grimace back to her face. "You're just scared. Not like you haven't taken a chance na..."
He shook his head at her "That's not what I'm saying. Failing is not an option. You can't try and not succeed otherwise the bald dude will be disappointed."
She flopped onto her back, looking at the dim ceiling. "But we know he wasn't a saint. So we're good na? We know the inside story."
She blinked at a sudden shadow over her face "Why're you blocking my light, bro?"
"Move off, shorty, your tiny legs can handle sitting on the ground now. I'm getting cramped."
She squawked as he tipped her off the bed and took her place "You just shook the buzz out of me, you idiot!"
He sniggered at her, enjoying the indignation on her face.
I never expected to be standing here. I'm not sure if not knowing was a good thing or a bad one. I knew myself enough to know that if I'd known it was coming, I would have avoided it like everything else I avoided. One little lie, one quick exit and another evening alone.
Sometimes being alone was a good break, although the social side of me rebelled against it with everything she had. Sometimes I worried that there were too many conflicting parts of me and some day they would pull me into different halves. Today, I stood there, wondering whether I would've canned in this case too. There was more than people and society at stake here... And my brain was too occupied with flashbacks and other disturbing creatures. That night stood out... That was the last time we had chilled like that before life came along and made me this recluse & took him all over the country for things that caught his fancy. He'd made so many points that night which stuck with me, that my aim of staying away from him was basically moot. I ran as far from him as I could, but always ended up returning to that night. I ran through all life's failures keeping that night & its hazy life lessons in mind.
Now, as I snapped between past and present, I couldn't believe where I stood. His six foot something frame used to tower over me, and he took particular pleasure in leaning on his 'minuscule table'...
My mind couldn't imagine how that frame had let him fly like they said he had. How had one measly fitting taken the weight of his height?
How could all that laughter, all that intellect, all that sheer life have been reduced to this? One urn, a handful of dust, and empty space...
Thinking back, if they'd told me that they were bringing me here, I would have made the same old excuses and stayed in my corner. Because in my corner, there was no murderous fan, no tightening curtain, no empty spaces. In my mind, there was that night, and the one moment I let slip. There was a scared girl telling her oldest friend how she felt, and not one with a hollow space echoing with the fateful "What if".
She looked at him, upside down, sitting in the sky next to her, as he sniggered and nodded "Yeah, the bald dude..."
She ignored him "Yeah, him. Did you know he tried all the shit they warn us away from? He ate meat, drank and all, had women, and bro... BRO! He and a friend tried suicide once, too!"
She sat upright, in her excitement, looking at him through the haze and the hair falling into her eyes. He seemed to be tripping on something else completely.
"Hello?"
His eyes snapped back to her, looking at her silently for a second. "They should teach us that shit in schools and all. They teach us that we should be perfect like these people. Discipline, dedication, perseverance, blah, blah... We're programmed to fail and hate ourselves for it."
She stared at his face for a minute, trying to quell the rising urge to tell him things she shouldn't be telling him at all. Her brain wasn't as sharp as it should be, the haze was making it hard to think straight. She shook the cobwebs out, slightly and pulled the easy grimace back to her face. "You're just scared. Not like you haven't taken a chance na..."
He shook his head at her "That's not what I'm saying. Failing is not an option. You can't try and not succeed otherwise the bald dude will be disappointed."
She flopped onto her back, looking at the dim ceiling. "But we know he wasn't a saint. So we're good na? We know the inside story."
She blinked at a sudden shadow over her face "Why're you blocking my light, bro?"
"Move off, shorty, your tiny legs can handle sitting on the ground now. I'm getting cramped."
She squawked as he tipped her off the bed and took her place "You just shook the buzz out of me, you idiot!"
He sniggered at her, enjoying the indignation on her face.
I never expected to be standing here. I'm not sure if not knowing was a good thing or a bad one. I knew myself enough to know that if I'd known it was coming, I would have avoided it like everything else I avoided. One little lie, one quick exit and another evening alone.
Sometimes being alone was a good break, although the social side of me rebelled against it with everything she had. Sometimes I worried that there were too many conflicting parts of me and some day they would pull me into different halves. Today, I stood there, wondering whether I would've canned in this case too. There was more than people and society at stake here... And my brain was too occupied with flashbacks and other disturbing creatures. That night stood out... That was the last time we had chilled like that before life came along and made me this recluse & took him all over the country for things that caught his fancy. He'd made so many points that night which stuck with me, that my aim of staying away from him was basically moot. I ran as far from him as I could, but always ended up returning to that night. I ran through all life's failures keeping that night & its hazy life lessons in mind.
Now, as I snapped between past and present, I couldn't believe where I stood. His six foot something frame used to tower over me, and he took particular pleasure in leaning on his 'minuscule table'...
My mind couldn't imagine how that frame had let him fly like they said he had. How had one measly fitting taken the weight of his height?
How could all that laughter, all that intellect, all that sheer life have been reduced to this? One urn, a handful of dust, and empty space...
Thinking back, if they'd told me that they were bringing me here, I would have made the same old excuses and stayed in my corner. Because in my corner, there was no murderous fan, no tightening curtain, no empty spaces. In my mind, there was that night, and the one moment I let slip. There was a scared girl telling her oldest friend how she felt, and not one with a hollow space echoing with the fateful "What if".
