Tuesday, 7 October 2014

Life Reflections.

We are trying out something new this time,so please bear with us.

I open my eyes promptly at midnight. I know she will walk in any minute and I need to be on my best behaviour.  The lights flicker and they turn on,illuminating the whole world in a pale yellow hue. I squint at the sudden brightness. As my vision comes back to normal.I see her staring at me right in the face. She seems to be having an internal debate. I scream  "Pick me! Me here!". But as usual she ignores my pleas and switches the lights off and my world is plunged into darkness all over again.

I have sat here for almost a week. Yes,I actually counted the days. I have been alive for exactly three weeks,fourteen hours and seven minutes. I have travelled through many places in such a short span. I have seen things way beyond my intelligence and I still (after all this time) wish to be picked up by her.. I,unlike my counterparts,am ready to meet her with a friendly grip. To look her in the eye (or in this case,teeth) and say "I offer myself to you".

Once a week, she will bring in a whole new set of my species. If I am lucky,one of them will be a family member (I have a huge family).

When I was younger and living with my family,none of them seemed to understand my calm acceptance of death. How I could so easily accept that my sole purpose in life was to die. I know that my duty to this world is to serve people to the best of my abilities even if it ultimately leads to my death (quite like a police officer)

A little after one in the night, she enters the room again. The lights come on and she again looks right through me. I have never understood the hatred or the calm indifference she has towards me.  I cross my fingers and hope that she picks me this time.

She looks around and her gaze finally lands on me. I glance around amd notice the practically void room (except for me). All my companions seem to have dissapeared. Was I so lost in my own thoughts that I did not notice them leave the room?

She picks me up and bites into me. I feel the incisors pierce my green skin. I see my flesh in all its glory. And slowly she devours me. This seems to be the end of the tale for a quirky Guava like me.

Did you feel like shouting " Vaishali please write more!" Or
Did you feel like scoffing and rolling your eyes at my attempt at an autobiography?
All kinds of feedback appreciated.

Word of the day:
Chatoyant- something having a changeable or varying lustre or colour.

Quote of the day:
"The empires of the future are the empires of the mind." - Winston Churchill




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