Chains

Everyone were carrying a load of their imperfection which justified an imperfect universe. Some with their chained hands while some with their chained feet, they all had their imperfections distributed in different ways. But they also had distractions, letting their senses ignore the imperfections they had.

There was a constant share of imperfection in the world and it was not equally distributed. Besides people with single chains, there were also those who were entirely chained from head to toe. They were tied and made to stand at one place, attracting sympathy, as people secretly questioned their previous births. Those chains were their faithful companions, the only true friends they had.

He was one such "special" specimen carrying a hefty load of imperfections from head to toe. Among the crowded scene before him, he saw her staring at him. She herself had her feet chained, but it didn't show on her face. With a mysterious expression she started moving towards him. His hand and feet went numb for a while.

Finally, she was right before him as her eyes turned slightly misty. She came closer and embraced him. He saw his chains slowly melting away as his hands fell free, hanging parallel to his body. She still had him embraced and the chains guarding his feet melted away too. He wanted to embrace her back but he wasn't able to move his hands. Everything around him froze, he looked up, and reality stared back at him. He was still chained, with the chained passer bys ignoring him. He had just woken up from a nap, still chained to an extraordinarily imperfect life.

Still waiting to be set free.

A Disappointed Infant

He wiped the drops of sweat on his forehead. The design was finally complete and the human-like structure made of steel was standing before him. What started out as a simple project to trace mice in the dirty basement he lived in, turned out to become a full-fledged model. The digital screen blinked in the darkness, with the words “Battery full” flashing in green text. He had worked very little on the design of the model which made the figure look like a dummy from some low-budget sci-fi movie.

With a gentle push he guided the large figure to an open area. He plugged a large device to the model he had borrowed from the laboratory. There are advantages in a Janitor’s job too, that’s why he can “borrow” the equipment and the “techniques” without the knowledge of people working there. He pressed a red button and the machine came to life, letting out a loud growl, vibrating the model’s steel skeleton. The machine suddenly stopped and silence took over. He waited for something to happen and finally let out a sigh of disappointment.

He removed the plug from the model and it suddenly flipped backwards landing in front of a mirror. The figure noticed its steel body in astonishment, tilting its bald steel head from side to side. It suddenly turned towards him letting out a shrill mechanical voice, “Papa, Why am I so ugly? “

The Lost Smile

His life was an endless road. For the worldly eyes he was just a driver nothing more, but he was an aimless wanderer for himself. The road was his best friend and the faces in front of his eyes always kept changing, whether on the road or in the rear view mirror. However, there was one face that managed to linger on in his memory. He didn't find her beautiful but when their eyes met a silent conversation happened. At the end of the day, he was a driver and she was a regular passenger who boarded the cab to her work and back home.

Some days he would randomly ask her "How was the day ma'am?"

To which she would smile and say something which he would not hear as her smile said things more than she actually spoke. His question would be the same every time, a question which hid so many things he wanted to say.

Just when he started getting used to her, he stopped getting pick up calls from her. He silently waited for his manager to order him to go to that familiar road where she used to wait. But nothing happened. Every now and then he would purposely drive around the same route in a hope to spot her but he never saw her again.

The roads now seemed a little lonely. He used to picture her sitting on the backseat smiling at him, finding it hard to accept that she was long gone.

Another Chance

It was a make or break situation. He had accepted his fault and there he was, right in front of her, weeping like a child. She has always given into situations and compromised. But when the love of her life admitted about his accidental betrayal, she wanted to run away, leaving everything behind to find a refuge for her broken heart because people who promise to stand by you can also leave your heart bleeding.

The packing was done; the suit case was ready and she prepared to leave, trying to ignore his heavy sobs. He repeatedly apologized as she tried to push away those memories from her state of mind, memories which never fade with time. She opened the door, banging it right behind her and began looking for a taxi.

He was helplessly sitting inside, on the couch, crying out loud. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. He opened the door and she was there, with her suitcase, looking at him with her teary eyes.

She extended her arms and he hugged her. They both stood there in the moonlit night, crying their hearts out, in each other’s arms, like two lost lovers.

Soon, two glasses of wines were poured and one could spot a silhouette from their window, depicting two figures indulged in a passionate waltz.

= = = =

…Because love is worth every chance you give it.

Wrote this in response to this.

A Dangerous Want

She loved chocolate ice cream. After every meal a walk to the ice cream man was a must for her. So even that day she finished up her dinner, put her jacket on and headed out to get some ice cream. She had a fetish for frosted delicacies, and when she couldn’t get an ice cream. She used to console herself by a cold coffee with some extra ice cubes added to it.

She spotted the ice cream man on the empty road which was unusually dark today. She looked at his dark figure from a distance and it seemed like he was cutting something on his ice cream stand. Perhaps she was just imagining it as it was quite dark. On approaching closer to the ice cream man she noticed that he was very weirdly dressed. He sported a toque and a long black jacket. He was also wearing bulky crampons.

“One chocolate ice cream please” she managed to blurt out. The ice cream man slowly opened up the slab of his ice cream freezer. She looked down into it with a horrified expression. The deep freezer was full of pikes and human hands and feet. The naked and bitter truth was right in front of her.

The ice cream man looked at her with his eyes sparkling in the darkness. He gave her a seductive stare, as he wanted her in a very dangerous way...

= = = =

This was an on-the-spot idea in response to this.

A Parallel Home

It was ironical as to how people around him seemed like robots working on machines. There were numerous metallic cabins with people furiously tapping buttons in front of digital screens. There were people working on giant machines filling the air with shrill noises. Somehow, he didn't belong there.

He had heard from someone that beyond the river stream situated in the far east, there was a better place. So he decided to wander off, away from the smoke filled place that was now beginning to suffocate him. He began running eastwards with the noise still echoing behind him. He finally reached the river and saw people throwing in machine waste into it. Strangely, the other half of the river was clean with its water letting out a beautiful spark. There were numerous trees planted on the other side of the river stream. That's where he wanted to go. He waited for the robot-like people to finish disposing off the waste. Once they went away on their giant motor vehicles, he went to the river side to have a closer look at the stream. It was just like he had seen from the far end. One half of the river seemed like liquid grease whereas the other half sparkled.

He hurriedly swam towards the other side, and entered a whole new world. There was a mosaic of green trees, soothing his eyes. Numerous birds chirped, welcoming his arrival. Once the patch of tall trees ended, he reached the grass lands and spotted people wearing robes all around. They were scattered here and there, some were sitting and writing down something, some were playing their stringed instruments and some were just swaying and dancing to imaginary music. He felt at home now.

An old man walked towards him, "Welcome home son" he smiled.

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Logical minds struggle to create a hell. Creative minds breathe free in a heaven.