Tuesday, August 29, 2017


 The poison descended down the throat just once. The nectar coursed through the veins many times, but each experience was different, each sensation was unique, never to be repeated. I came out of my body twice, but each step wasn't the same. I saw him dying. Watched her descend into madness. Trembled before laughing friends. Looked down in shame, excitement, bewilderment as her fingers pulled the flaccid 6-year old flesh inside. Stood near the door, wondering whether to jump down into the abyss or wait for dawn. Watched her mumble something, at close quarters, tiny hair glistening on her neck. Saw evil hatred shining in those eyes. And divine compassionate love. An unbearable yearning arching through the whole body. Continuous slaps on my young cheeks as an act of deflected revenge towards my favorite teacher. Helplessness in his eyes as he watched me bullied in the staff room. The look in those eyes which knew they wouldn't see me again. The pain of losing that presence forever, on the last day.

Every moment has been unique. Life hasn't repeated anything. Even when something looked familiar the shade was different, the tune had a unique timbre, note, taste, sensation and color. The clasp through the fingers, the claw marks on the arms, the caress on the shoulders. The gaze of love, lust, care, adoration, helplessness, frustration, anger, pleading, destroying, dying in agony. The trustless gaze of looking down in disgust. The helpless gaze which looked up, requesting to stop and call truce. The gaze that said, you deserved this. The gaze that said, I'm with you in this until you drop dead, and even beyond.

Every teacher has been unique. Every lover. Every friend. Every pet. Every victory. Scar. Triumph. Every flirtation with death. Every kiss back into life. Every mistake. Illness. Sadness and despair. Stillness at the peak where bliss and love merge with lust. Emptiness at the depths where hope and joy and tenderness shatter into pieces. Alone and lonely. Fulfilled and dead. Fearful and self-loathing with seething anger. Sorrow and regret. Relief and utter suffocation. Helpless frustration. Losing faith. Gaining hope.

"You'll not get this again, not in the way you know it," she said. I wanted it all back just as I had seen it last. "No, you won't," she said firmly, before disintegrating into the mist. "I offer no thing twice, and I shall make no exception for you."

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