Sep 2, 2009

The Road Trip Called Life......

New York sat nestled among the mountains (mountains??) and enveloped in a seemingly impenetrable darkness. I signaled the man behind me to halt. With my gun cocked and put in the “Fire” mode, I led my troupes (troupes??) on towards the city walls that loomed menacingly ahead. A stealthy movement in the corners drew my gaze. The flicker of a shadow. My gun roared. A black cloth fell, torn to shreds by my two pound bullets. A shadow flickered, again (don’t they get tired of this flickering?), this time to my right. I turned, only to see a blurred figure pounce on me. I was lifted momentarily off the ground, defying all sense of gravity and swung around until my back made hard (and pretty uncomfortable) contact with the wall. I retaliated, swift as a mamba, strong as a lion. Kicking off from the wall, I pinned my captor down on the ground. I drew back and struck a heavy blow across its face…… and my hand made contact with the pillow.


My eyes snapped open.


 My sister, on the process of drawing apart the curtains, stood transfixed, perhaps wondering whether to laugh or simply get the hell out of the room.


I was kneeling on the bed, holding the pillow up, my face drawn apart in a savage roar.


Crap!! Just another dream.


********************************************


The realm of divination has been troubling me for days now. “Sleep deprivation can lead you to dream really unrealistic dreams” or so some sod said (don’t ask me crap like who, when and where. I sure as hell don’t know!!). But what does this statement imply? That I should quit late night movies, surfing and reading?? Dream on, pal, coz that ain’t gonna happen in the eons to come (largest time frame that came to my mind, actually. If you can think of something larger, please inform me.). But a few tuitions…. Now that’s something I don’t mind missing. Coz life nowadays is sure gonna be my ticket to hell.


>>The train of thoughts that threatened to stretch on and on is interrupted as the tap I had been trying so unsuccessfully to open, revealed its inner most anatomy and so inelegantly tuned itself to provide a totally obstruction-free passage for a clear liquid (in other words, the damn tap simply opened).<<


Spluttering, gasping and skin taking the temperature of frozen fish-sticks, I emerge from the bathroom. Solace is hard to find as I am greeted by a jumbled up mess of badminton racquets, books, CD’s, files, folders and, yeah, a few textbooks from school too.


Aghast at the horror I have given birth to, I stare at my reflection and then at the mess. My eyes revert back to the mirror and then to the mess.
(This process repeats itself until finally the voice of my mother reprimanding me (in a very cruel language, mind you. Poor me….) for leaving my shoes sorta, you know, scattered in the porch.) I come out of my reverie and slowly begin my descent….. The train of thoughts start chugging away…..


Now, off to school, to bunk more classes, throw more chalks (and bodies too), plan new atrocities and evade capture (at least try to do so). As I trudge along the “picturesque” (yeah, right!) road to school, I contemplate on how this particular day will end: In the parlor or somewhere even worse?? (Is there such a place at all??).


>>The train of thoughts is again so rudely interrupted as the driver of a passing car decides to furnish the humble author with a choice of “pleasant” words for walking somewhere close to the line of symmetry of the road.<<


I look around and heave a sigh of relief. Nope, not one soul around. Feeling quite jaunty all of a sudden (the driver had already driven off) I empty my rather ill-fitting response of words (comparing to him that is… Oh! The burning ears…..) into the air. Somewhat satisfied, I walk on and on…. The old train starts chugging again……


Past the hockey court, past the buses parked in a crooked line I walk on and on (why can’t this class be any closer???)


>>Once again the train of thoughts is interrupted, this time in the form of a lone foot which singles out my brand new shoes and brands the imprint of its own shoe on mine (Duh! The guy just stamped me!!!).<<


Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Some great man proposed it and just then twenty or so not-so-great men took it into their heads to prove the theory right. Limbs(feet or hands?? Don’t look this way, I sure as hells don’t know!!) descended on my glazing shoes one after the other, leaving the shoes that were new only till a few seconds back, covered by muddy paw prints( SHIT!!!!). One very disgruntled me (an understatement actually) is then accompanied by gleefully hooting friends to our abode, the class room. The train of thoughts come to an abrupt halt as the fuel required to chug it on has now gotta be used for far more productive activities, like hiding boots, hanging bags in front of the class, decorating the seats of a “chosen few” with painfully crushed chalk powder and in the intervals that present itself in the midst of all these, throw a few well-aimed (most often ill-aimed) chalks on the heads of some unsuspecting nerds.


Mean while, the train of thoughts gather more thoughts, preparing itself for an hour long journey.


The shrill ringing of the bell startles us for a split second before we resume our relaxed postures outside the class, in the corridor. This state of relaxation continue till whispers of  “….principal….principal….”  are heard. Then, the ones who were so relaxed, vanishes like the flick of a leopard’s tail. A split second’s scramble and we are back in class. We sit in anticipation. The tamer enters (some call her the teacher too. But with monsters like us, the more apt word is tamer itself…). She starts off and the train of thoughts, now fully replenished and ready, starts chugging again……


Time spent in class is actually not a waste of time at all. It is this time that helps us actually to meticulously plan out a lot of activities that coincides with the term absurd atrocities (to the teacher that is. Well, what is precious to the other primates may not necessarily be the same with humans….Similar case actually……). God bless the person who shortened the number of subjects in the XIth… We now have to devise battle plans for lesser number of teachers (oh YEAH!!). The period drags on and on….. The train stops again…. Out of thoughts once again and also due to the fact that I finally managed to attain nirvana….(as in sleep…..).


>>The train of thoughts is interrupted once again as the tamer sets her sight on this particular species of homo sapiens (duh! Me!!) and so kindly allows him to continue his endeavor to attain solace outside the room with the aid of the cool breeze. Translation, I just got kicked out of class….again<<


The train of thoughts can now chug on, undisturbed……

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