Saturday, April 16, 2011

4.8 centimeters



Let the monk leave, rebel said. pressing his hand hard on his hidden knife. The sudden break in silence made the monk flitch, the knife was in air, past the monk's ear....................Knife.........She puts the knife across his throat, pressing him against the wall, warning him not to trouble her while making breakfast....he continues to grope her, with lust in his eyes..................eyes.........She never had eyes, so the way she looked at the world was very different than thos who could actually see it, her brother explained her that every time you change your mood, one's face completely changes. One is ugliest when sad, and the most beautiful form is when you are happy......she was pretending to be happy even at his funeral. He was 24..............Twenty Four.........Twenty four hours before the next flight arrives, and she was in a city she wanted to be ever since she was a lil princess of daddy, Moscow. She steps out, and the snow monster is ensconced over the City. The mystery soldier offers her a cigarette .........a cigarette? ...it just keeps lying on floor , emitting the plume as the husband bangs her head against the mirror.....that the thing with unfinished cigarettes, they're just indifferent. Never leave a fucking cigarette half way, they are eyes of Satan............Satan......I don't know who I worship , the God or Satan, I am trying to find myself, the tasks which i carried out were dictated to me from a voice inside me, and If i dont know who it is My lord, who are u to label it....label.............the label of No smoking looms large as she lies dead on the floor of a shitty motel in Moscow, no more flight to catch......catch .......He catches her wrist, turns around and pushes her against the wall.Apparently the breakfast will be late today.....today, is the day when the little girl get to see for the first time through the eyes of her 24 year old dead brother...brother...she runs to her brother's home after she slits her husband's throat with the broken mirror.....the unfinished cigarette still throwing the smoke.....smoke.....the rebel and the monk walk out of smoke filled room behind them....small tear in rebel's eye for the first time in his life.....Life......take the life of this psychopath hermit, the judge declares.
*4.8 centimeters is the average length of a cigarette.

4 comments:

kitty said...

"the thing with unfinished cigarettes, they're just indifferent. Never leave a fucking cigarette half way, they are eyes of Satan".. last time i cried, after committing a sin, it just made me so strong that i promised ill never cry ever again... here a proud woman and twin bows , lets squash that stinky bud and write a book :)its not necessary that one needs eye, to see across feelings...
or one cant forgive a random sin committed by a dear hermit wid rugged dimples:) forgive. smile. move-on. live forever... is the mantra!

frenchleaveblog said...

Brilliant!

ARPIT said...

good work tinku ..
nice way of writing ..
the way it all comes together at the end is beautiful .. something like a great piece of detective novel where everything fall in place at the end ..

Saumya said...

Oh awesome!!!! I just LOVED how the subject being talked about kept changing after almost every sentence...brilliantly done!

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