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Thursday, November 5, 2009

The wait...




Its still raining.

Three days. Time feels like a bubble gum stuck to the sole of your shoe.
I don’t know how long this will go on. Water runs around in little transparent
veins, sniffing out dry places and vanquishing them. They told me to wait and I waited.
I waited with all the patience that a defeated man ought to have. Waited in remorse, waited in guilt, waited in a drenched bunch of emotions.

The sky never breaks into a morning.

It goes from black to grey to black again. No sun. All that is there, is the rain. Plummeting with all its might, running amok, making a fool out of all that is living or pretending to survive.

“Soak in my might; don’t fight.
Don’t even think about it;
Its not gonna be all right…”

They told me that they would send across someone to get me out of here, get me to some
place dry. I lapped up their promises, a mongrel, and hungry since eternity. I knew they would lie. Making hollow promises comes second to betrayal in the human palette of psychological actions. But this time, they did a bend.

He came.

Carrying some clothing and some food supplies, he told me that he had been air dropped some two kilometers away. They were going to come pick us up within hours. There were other distress calls that had been detected from all across the terrain, and they were trying to get to as many as they could. He was talking too much. And he could use some respect for me.

War? What war?

I knew that I had been a commander in some forgotten part of my memory. I did not remember when the war got over; all I remember is that the gunfire and the bombs exploding in the vicinity slowly faded away. Then every sound was overshadowed by
the loud patter of rain. It did not allow you to talk or think.

Think about the rain. Think about me. Am I not enough?

He was still speaking. I stared at him, not really looking. He was getting louder, trying to cut through my defenses. I could see his lips moving, flinching like a maniac, his face streaked with water, mud and a lot more that I could not make out. I don’t like his way of talking. I am a Commander. I was one at least. Respect, please. Just a little.

He should not have slapped me.

Now there are two of us. I am still holding on to the knife. He lies there, his throat opened up like a fluffy pillow. His eyes carry the look of disbelief. Don’t tell me he did not see that coming. People with such low manners, ought to expect it sooner or later. There was a loud explosion a while back and I saw a flaming bird come crashing down into the forest. Seems like someone banged my fire exit . I have food now. And company. Not very lively, but surely well mannered.

I am still waiting…

32 comments:

Preeti said...

Oh my God. what was that?

there are times when edginess in a narrative, if invisible, makes it all the more edgy for the reader. because it is 'there' yet it is not apparent...so the reader is left wondering as to what hit her or him.

extremely well written and structured and thought of. classic example of a fine line between sanity and insanity...and what would happen if that line were to be crossed (on the wrong side...or the right side as the case maybe...it is nice to indulge in insanity at times...don't you agree??? :-)))))

I wonder what it is about everything you write...a reader devours every single word and then sits back hungry for more...damn! it's not fair...

Anirban said...

Ur analogies are great..time would in such a situation feel like a bubble gum stuck to the shoe..and looking from a pit(?) a gunfire-blackened, clouded sky would never break into morning as it were..a freshly cut throat could well be a slit fluffy pillow...the first-person brooding is great..initially..the wait in the death-hole is cruel, slow, torturous...
Post "He came" however, the plot stops working for me..a military man who chooses respect over rescue even in such dire straits, strikes me as foolish, not psychotic--..."defeated man", "patience", "lapping up promises" somehow do not add up to the cold throat-slitting...neither does the exchange between the victim and rescuer...I have no clue how commonplace sentences like "we got distress calls" "we are trying to pick up as many people as we can" would lead to a slap would lead to murder!!!..the protagonist stikes me as curious but remains very under-defined for me..in spite of the first-person narrative.."Carrying some clothing and some food supplies, he told me that he had been air dropped some two kilometers away,"--it's like his whole attention is how and what the guy says,supplies can wait.."carrying food and supplies" doesnt define his purpose, it defines his appearance to the victim..it's like he has clearly not been able to impress him as he should have.. (though the guy does remember to keep the food with him and thinks of it smugly later, after the kill "I have food now"!!)...dont know what to make of a man like that....
The mood of the piece runs from one of pathos to horrific to pathos again..but the shift in between seems uncalled for and doesn't work for me..also, just three days in a corpse-filled rain-dampened pit would look like a common war situation..not enough to make someone a murdering maniac...not to me....
Killing Your Rescuer? Allegorical? Maybe...

Ire said...

Excellent! I am still not sure what it was...

Socially Awkward Paint Monster said...

Strangely, I see myself in that psychopath commander.
Loved it.

Shreya. said...

its got this thing that makes you go, "Oh! i know what it feels like." good.

Rhiamon said...

This is nice, I like the analogies used!
"black to grey to black again".. kind of reminds me of monsoon in pune.

Ganges said...

goodness, that was good!

AshenGlow said...

Oh My God. Talk about what rains can do to one's mood...

Shucks.. i go into my shell till i see the sun.. Really..

Well described. It has to be nai?

De-scribe?

:)
Regards,
Ashen

Supri said...

aah! was just browsing around...this is some Good shit.

Jadis said...

yeah.
war turns the ablest of men into loonies...

it's like that.
global chaos feeding on perpetual hysteria.


brilliant writing, as always scribbler. :)

Running in circles. said...

if only wars could end and it would rain when the sun is out.

mynameisjane said...

Heyy, I know you commented on my entry a while ago, sorry to have responded back so late, and the word check? Haha I'm sorry but I don't quite understand what you mean, but I am curious about your question. Let me know, thanx! And by the way, your writing is very fresh. (:

oRange* said...

WOW. intense one!

swati said...

you are a gem wen it comes to writings and beading words..n this is not the first time im saying this nor i am the first person saying this..
it was simply stunning!
Goodday!

Sorcerer said...

its good writeup..but...its...foggy!!

Nomad said...

Hey whats been happening? It's been too long my friend, how are ya?

Neil said...

soogy-bottom-sun-of-a-gun !!!

cheers.....!!!!

Unknown said...

You know the first though that crept into my mind hen I read it? LTTE! don't ask me why, it just did.

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