I

‘Do you drink Mr. Das?’
‘I do’
‘Smoke? Do you smoke often?’
‘Oh yes! They call me a darn chimney man!’
‘Do you do drugs too?’
‘Hey buddy! You getting into my skin now! What’s the matter? They pay you dough to do this? Get a life man- get high… uhhh… I could not quite finish my sentence.
It happens like this- often. The neurons in my head snap off. The iris dilates and the pupil turns hibiscus red- warm tears seem to scorch down the cheeks. Or is it the leftovers of goodness being excreted?! I do not know how the universe contracts so fast but all I see it the blinding white light that seems to burn through the oxygen around- i gasp… I suffocate… I die…

But then like the timed magic of Cinderella, the evils mutate on the dead cytoplasm. Like a thousand conch shells, the goons break my ‘sound of silence’. They make me experience the pain of birth! Being born again- nemesis? They make me shiver in the guilt! They make me cry in pain. They make me howl… for all the abuses. They actually let me ‘live’ a momentary life… ‘cause they would soon take charge of my biological self!
I smell of a thousand vices. I grope for a support and I hunt for words… syllables of help! I look around in earnest for mercy, forgiveness… but my soul is chained. A rancid taste holds me still… like blood stains on a killer-on-the-run!

‘Good morning Mr. Das- hope you had a good night’s sleep… you were comfortable?’
I try to generate a mental match- recognition, but the blur of a human form makes my eyes water. The vacuum in my throat renders conversation impossible. I close my eyes and try to shrivel and hide… but then… is there any shelter for a diseased soul?

Who is he? Was he the one asking questions last night? And did he bring me to this place, as white as the face of death?
I try to get up, I try to stand erect but the medulla oblongata seems to have revolted against me- the equilibrium disturbed, I fall back- unsteady… helpless.
Why? Why did this happen to me? How did it all start- the harpoons of liberation… which would dissolve the reality bites…? And I never realized that I was the game- the hunted! I remembered the psalm from way back into my catholic education- ‘… and the cup overflows...’ ironic how education defines life! It was time for me to drown in the overflowing rot that was of my making.
It was all about money. Not to buy two square meals a day… not just to sustain, grow and fight but it was all about a renaissance.
I grew up to be an engineer and helped a corporation reap profits, being ‘rewarded’ rather offered/given/blessed with a monthly pay! Then I paid my respects to the democratic government and treasury- an honest tax payer! And even saved some, you know, for a bad day! But even after twenty years of corporate su-do-ku I was just another blessed soul! All around me I saw the giants mutate into humongous shapes. Money they laundered could buy ‘a life’ for so many of them… dying without a trace on th demographic radar! The wind vane of our economy marching with the facts and figures, bright smiles for bourgeoisie and outlandish acclaims! Rewards/awards/ accolades measuring out the ratios and proportion of wealth!! I was lost- in this clinical emotionless, surgical atmosphere! Did they not smell the pain? Did they not see the muck- the dirt and disease…didn’t they hear the pangs of a thousand fear, of terror? The fulcrum of the social scales made me giddy- from the heights of my life, I could not bear to look down upon them.
I took up writing. The weapon of peaceful revolution. The under-cover reporting, the naked truths of how money and power were blinding the already myopic lot! I did drugs! I took to smoking; glass and the amber colored fluid… I tried to battle it out with the venom inside!
I could see the democratic preamble being trampled over- the starched ideals of our constitution being burnt in the ‘holy grail’ of social (hiatus) hara-kiri. And I protested! I wrote, published photographs- the evidence for the blinded justice of our nation… even formed a band of brothers- just for a better life en mass!
On the Richter scale, it wasn’t much of a concern, initially… but then, as I said- renaissance!
It was not a Gandhian or a violent up-rising- I would not know how to define it! It was just a protest, a commotion like the molecules in a compound getting agitated for a ‘change of state’!!! It was exothermic yet it did not burn the gabardine of the numbed… it was the beginning of the end and I could see it…
Now I was at the altar- to face the wrath of the high and mighty!! Spoils of revolution you can say… a martyr for the generations to come? Neo-father figure? Ha! It’s all a game you see- a game of the diseased soul, convoluted mind and greedy hormones!! Am the cynic! The matrix that would never let the fractions be generalized! I am the membrane separating them- impermeable! They would never catch me or punish me… ‘cause I am the bloodline that feeds the dirt tracks!! I am the playwright of the twenty first century… I am a master of the game who moves both the white & the black pawns! I am impartial yet can fall for just about any taste or smell- am temporal! They try to trap me, poison me and hold me for the guillotine but then again they won’t know the time for a role reversal. It’s not about money, power or status- it is about destiny! It is about the malleable and ductile social ingots!! Am just the elixir charming through the ranks of civilization. It is all a game of fortune- a deal of sorts that would lead to a control over the lesser-mortals!! And so that would make me??!! The god of small things. Amen! With due respect to the heavens above- I am the umbilicus of life sans mercy!!