Sitting in my flat alone, a glass of wine, few smokes... I feel like a wanderer... A time traveller, or a vagabond.
I may have been a hiker, on an expedition to some snowy peak, lost my way... With an expanse of white dust, beauty that exceeds imagination. Lost, but not out of place. My blood freezes minute by minute. I don't have a second to waste. These expensive clothes I bought to keep myself warm are of no use. I have food, and water all around in the snow. I have no appetite. For this moment, I want to feel satiated just with the mundane whiteness, the only sound that of wind. The wind is singing, can anything be more beautiful. This night is dark, and yet the snow reflects with its own light. How would look when the moon is full... When the clouds drape it in their arms, and freeze every breath. I have money in my pocket, even more in my bank account. But this is a primitive land. Money will not help you. Now would the fact that humans in few years will be notorious enough to threaten the very existence of this snow blanket. At their own cost of course. I may not have known this. I never thought I would die. Though I saw it coming. It did not appear like death. It came to me like a Friend in that lonely hour. My hands were blue... My body, so habituated to breathing, had to be reminded to do so. With much effort, I dragged whatever air I could drag in. I have a matchbox and a cigarette as well. I have a whole pack in fact. Smoking won't help, I need to breathe. I close my eyes, my lashes frozen despite of the snow goggles. I remember your warm smile, I remember my first kiss, and the thousand kisses I've shared with many... When I made love, passionately in the night, and kissed you goodbye in the morning. I have lived many lives in my one life. Does not matter if I am a man or a woman. Maybe I've lived as both. I have lived... and I never realise it. Why is it so that we realise what life is when its about to leave us. Something like love? Or there is no love, and there is no life? I open my eyes, it would be such a waste to spend my last moments still not appreciating what I have. I wondered if my body would be preserved in thick ice blankets. And someday, washed by a glacier, of chanced upon by some other enthusiasts like me, will be discovered. My expensive clothes, and much of my body would be intact. So would my belongings in this bag. All that I owned in the human world, will be transferred to a kin. Everything will be as it is, just that my soul would be free. Would it be a reflection of my human life, or my human life was a reflection of my soul? I do not know. But this is not a time for philosophy... I lie down on the snow, and let it wrap a blanket over me. "I am just sleeping", I tell myself... I do not know what happened after that. Yes, I realise, white is the most beautiful colour. It has all the colours in it. They break it and it becomes a rainbow. The darkness of the sky on the other hand, swallow all the colours. So it black more colourful than white? Is life black or white? Is death black or white? I do not know. Now, even if I get to know, how will I tell you my reader? I would be dead. I would need another life, but then would I remember it? Do people remember how they died? Are they afraid when they are about to die? Is it because we have seen death in another life, we are scared of it? Or we just forget everything, and start on an empty slate? I do not know this either. Have I known anything in my life? They considered me educated with my elaborate degrees. Why did I come to the mountains to dig my grave? I will not even have a headstone with my name counting the number of years I lived, and messages from some loved one. I would not be exhumed either for my ashes to be mixed in soil or water. Would I be missed? Those loved me might have already learnt how to live without my presence. Humans are very accepting. We accept love, and indifference, and hatred, and a lot other things. We just don't accept ourselves. Oh if only I could once see a full moon before I close my eyes forever. Was I already dead and yet thinking? I do not know. I think this is what we humans are... ignorant idiots.
Or maybe, I am an ugly spider. They despise my existence. They think I am dirty, I weave nets to trap my pray. And I savour them mercilessly. Did I ever think that the fly I just sucked dry had a life. It may be worth nothing, but it was a part of the eco system. These silly concept you humans make. The only argument you have in favour of me is that I am a part of the food chain, an I keep check on the number of insects. Why despise me for my habits them? Some of us have poison. Some humans have poison too. You don't despise them. You don't hate the people who trap and use others. Yes you hang the killers but there are many ways to kill other than setting the soul free. Maybe you should not hate the killer either. They commit less a sin than those who kill dreams, desires and love. I am a mundane creature. I'm ugly you see... I cannot even make out the difference in the male and female of my own kind. My life is difficult. Some of us have to die to have a little sex. I am the regular house spider, that is why I am able to see the similarities in me and you. I am not that scary to look at. I sit quietly in a corner and weave my net. You destroy my home, deprive me of food. Because I taint your explicitly painted walls. And if my blood spills on your expensive painted walls, you curse me even in my death. Grow up, I don't hate you, but I despise you just as you do to me. Come up to my corner someday... you will look down upon yourself. And yet, you scream and shout, and make movies declaring me a death machine. Yet, when you are looking for a superhero, someone felt my kind has abilities that may rule the world. Maybe your kind is just jealous of us...
I may have been a hiker, on an expedition to some snowy peak, lost my way... With an expanse of white dust, beauty that exceeds imagination. Lost, but not out of place. My blood freezes minute by minute. I don't have a second to waste. These expensive clothes I bought to keep myself warm are of no use. I have food, and water all around in the snow. I have no appetite. For this moment, I want to feel satiated just with the mundane whiteness, the only sound that of wind. The wind is singing, can anything be more beautiful. This night is dark, and yet the snow reflects with its own light. How would look when the moon is full... When the clouds drape it in their arms, and freeze every breath. I have money in my pocket, even more in my bank account. But this is a primitive land. Money will not help you. Now would the fact that humans in few years will be notorious enough to threaten the very existence of this snow blanket. At their own cost of course. I may not have known this. I never thought I would die. Though I saw it coming. It did not appear like death. It came to me like a Friend in that lonely hour. My hands were blue... My body, so habituated to breathing, had to be reminded to do so. With much effort, I dragged whatever air I could drag in. I have a matchbox and a cigarette as well. I have a whole pack in fact. Smoking won't help, I need to breathe. I close my eyes, my lashes frozen despite of the snow goggles. I remember your warm smile, I remember my first kiss, and the thousand kisses I've shared with many... When I made love, passionately in the night, and kissed you goodbye in the morning. I have lived many lives in my one life. Does not matter if I am a man or a woman. Maybe I've lived as both. I have lived... and I never realise it. Why is it so that we realise what life is when its about to leave us. Something like love? Or there is no love, and there is no life? I open my eyes, it would be such a waste to spend my last moments still not appreciating what I have. I wondered if my body would be preserved in thick ice blankets. And someday, washed by a glacier, of chanced upon by some other enthusiasts like me, will be discovered. My expensive clothes, and much of my body would be intact. So would my belongings in this bag. All that I owned in the human world, will be transferred to a kin. Everything will be as it is, just that my soul would be free. Would it be a reflection of my human life, or my human life was a reflection of my soul? I do not know. But this is not a time for philosophy... I lie down on the snow, and let it wrap a blanket over me. "I am just sleeping", I tell myself... I do not know what happened after that. Yes, I realise, white is the most beautiful colour. It has all the colours in it. They break it and it becomes a rainbow. The darkness of the sky on the other hand, swallow all the colours. So it black more colourful than white? Is life black or white? Is death black or white? I do not know. Now, even if I get to know, how will I tell you my reader? I would be dead. I would need another life, but then would I remember it? Do people remember how they died? Are they afraid when they are about to die? Is it because we have seen death in another life, we are scared of it? Or we just forget everything, and start on an empty slate? I do not know this either. Have I known anything in my life? They considered me educated with my elaborate degrees. Why did I come to the mountains to dig my grave? I will not even have a headstone with my name counting the number of years I lived, and messages from some loved one. I would not be exhumed either for my ashes to be mixed in soil or water. Would I be missed? Those loved me might have already learnt how to live without my presence. Humans are very accepting. We accept love, and indifference, and hatred, and a lot other things. We just don't accept ourselves. Oh if only I could once see a full moon before I close my eyes forever. Was I already dead and yet thinking? I do not know. I think this is what we humans are... ignorant idiots.
Or maybe, I am an ugly spider. They despise my existence. They think I am dirty, I weave nets to trap my pray. And I savour them mercilessly. Did I ever think that the fly I just sucked dry had a life. It may be worth nothing, but it was a part of the eco system. These silly concept you humans make. The only argument you have in favour of me is that I am a part of the food chain, an I keep check on the number of insects. Why despise me for my habits them? Some of us have poison. Some humans have poison too. You don't despise them. You don't hate the people who trap and use others. Yes you hang the killers but there are many ways to kill other than setting the soul free. Maybe you should not hate the killer either. They commit less a sin than those who kill dreams, desires and love. I am a mundane creature. I'm ugly you see... I cannot even make out the difference in the male and female of my own kind. My life is difficult. Some of us have to die to have a little sex. I am the regular house spider, that is why I am able to see the similarities in me and you. I am not that scary to look at. I sit quietly in a corner and weave my net. You destroy my home, deprive me of food. Because I taint your explicitly painted walls. And if my blood spills on your expensive painted walls, you curse me even in my death. Grow up, I don't hate you, but I despise you just as you do to me. Come up to my corner someday... you will look down upon yourself. And yet, you scream and shout, and make movies declaring me a death machine. Yet, when you are looking for a superhero, someone felt my kind has abilities that may rule the world. Maybe your kind is just jealous of us...
