BROTHER

"Brother do you believe 

In an afterlife

Where our souls will both collide

Some great Elysium."

-Bear's Den, Elysium.

Photo: A scene from 'Elysium' Official Video by Bear's Den

We ran together all through our life. Maybe that was why we thought we were so fit for life, so fit to take challenges, face everything; even an alien invasion. Our imagination took care of us everyday as we ran around the world. Running away from spoons that had green peas, running towards dad’s arms at the end of the day, running behind the school bus with our eyes barely open, running away from responsibilities so that we could feel like we were children again. For me, running was the best exercise. And you, my best coach.

Now, as they take the bloodstained shoe covered in mud from the river bank and toss it in a plastic bag labelled ‘evidence’ I wonder with whom I was running with all along. Someone I thought was my knight in shining armor removes his treacherous mask as he reveals himself as the guardian of hell’s door. When we were running towards the edge of the cliff, smiling and tossing our hair back and panting, trying to grasp breath while shaking off the cold wind trying to smother us with his sweet little torture, I thought I was having another best day of my life. I swore to myself to enter that chapter in my diary and read it after ten years to feel young and reckless. Well I feel reckless, for I let go of your arm unintentionally, and you took the giant final leap without turning back. I am looking for your charted plans for you always planned anything, and everything.

For a second I was staring at my shoe, adoring the knot you made before we began running. I gazed up and saw you standing there at the edge, and I saw another shadow right beside you. I ran towards you, when you ever so gently pushed your leg towards earth to reach out to death. Maybe you hugged him while floating in air. It was not you who hung onto the ledge, it was me. You left me hanging, alone. As you left your final breath at the edge, I inhaled it. Guess you are not gone forever; I am still breathing yours, brother.

HIGHWAY TO HEAVEN

I am back to the yellow blinking lights again. Every day I pass them by foot, and yet I feel drawn to them every single day. I always thought the yellow blinking lights had a story to tell, like every star in the universe as told by Eliot in his poem. But the story I am expecting from this yellow light is different, for I believe they have witnessed every single accident on this lonely road. There is a broken sign board right next to me with a sign that says ‘Accident Prone Zone, Go Slow’ and I laugh at the irony. I laugh at the irony like my life which is also a joke.

I am sitting inside my car with the AC on at twenty three degree Celsius, the temperature I am in love with. My playlist is on shuffle and it is playing a random song I fell in love with many years back. I try to remember the song, but I am spaced out; and on the road where the accident took place. I am a floating balloon: not tethered to the ground but not strong enough to fly far, far away. I am still apologising to the person who rode shot gun with me on that strange night filled with music and laughter.

I check the time on the clock. 21:50pm. Five minutes before the time the accident took place. Thirteen hours and fifty four seconds after the ride started. Me looking for the serenity in the earth and she with a destination that she had in mind before she got stranded at a fuel station. No booze, no strings. Just few lame jokes, untold stories and happy music playing in the stereo; and a flickering streetlight at the end of the road that engulfed us and expelled us in the very next junction like a black hole kissing a white hole.

I never gave ride to the hitch-hikers, and that was my very first time; maybe even the very last. I was cleaning the dirt out of my glasses when she waved her hand and asked me to stop by just for a second, her car’s engine steaming with smoke. I offered her the shot-gun seat which was always unattended except for my usual backpack which I tossed in the trunk of the car. So we drove into the night, yelling lyrics out to the strange wind that played with our hair and our finger oh-so-fearlessly, giving us the promise that the night was ours and ours was the night.

Then, the corner of a street and a junction arrived, and all hell broke loose. Death granted me his power; and I was blinded by the sight of the yellow lights that I took it graciously and gifted him with the life of her. A beam passed by us, and us into the hood of a truck. Shocked, yelling yet calm because we knew nothing could happen and that this was all meant to be. The love of my life dented and crashed across a beast with the rope of death, and me with death’s loving hands. My love totalled on the road, and a stranger on the seat, eyes wide open and blood gushing out of her forehead and neck; and me spotless except for a slight scar that shall remain forever like the kiss of death.

21:55pm. The car had crashed, a stranger had died; and I had cried for all the tragic happenings. Helpless, I ran for help like a child lost in a supermarket. Mindless, like a junkie high on drugs. But nothing was never enough to please God, for he took everything from me. Patience, confidence, and the fear of death. The only thing I gained was the realisation that a stranger would mean so much to me, that a stranger could change so much of your life.

Tonight, I keep the danger lights on and stand under the streetlight where it all happened. Stay away, people; I am touched by the beautiful curse of Death, but the truth is no matter how much I try, I cannot die. Such is the love of Death, such is the game of Death.