“I can’t do this anymore”
His eyes filled up with untold despair and he looked at her blankly.
She stood up , no longer faltering in his presence and walked out.
In that moment, he silently looked at the abandoned wheelchair in the corner of the room and let out a forlorn sigh over her walking away now.
The credits roll out in a classic fashion.
The theatre with the plush and lucratively fashioned reclining chairs slowly emptied out with people animatedly criticizing the actors, props, acting and their shenanigans.
I smile ever so slowly coming up with a reader’s digest condensed version of the play and find the jargon of the crowds to be too cynical for my taste and liking.
There is a movement towards my side and I look over to see yet another soul in a somber mood gulping down mouthfuls of the conversations with a hearty laugh.
We look at each other befuddled at first and I then ask him about what set him off, intrigued by his knowing presence in an empty theatre.
With the nonchalance of a dramatic air he shouts it out, “Really??? Don’t you find it funny that people are influenced so easily and mind controlled in an almost robotic fashion.Love and simplicity have been ousted by relentless precision and curated tact.”
His honest outburst over the lack of emotion in people stirred up a revolution inside me and forced me to nod my head in unison with his words that didn’t miss a beat at any turn.
But my reply didn’t match my thoughts and I rambled on saying that “It’s not about mind control and influence but the insane amount of profanity that drives people crazy and renders their actions as irrational grunts and screams of neglect”
He neglected my air of frenzy and took up a classic interrogation technique of locking horns with my inner being with the creatively timed questions:
1)Do you believe in being passive or aggressive towards silly battles that people fight day in and out?
2) Do you believe in delivering a blow to the intruders or rest in peace under the rule of abrasive dictators?
3) Do you believe in the weak who favour that life won’t always flow their way or the strong who swim against the tides of time and go in for the kill?
4) Do u believe in the constructive appeal of adaptation or the destructive flair for control?
Did I just hear right???
Such profound and soul stirring questions certainly shook the earth below me and the entire arena was reverberating with the meltdown of the crisis at hand.
I challenge his artful inclination towards being the maestro and a vintage wordsmith.
Looking deep into his eyes and recovering from the minor setback that he pushed me into, I answer with a calm and composed demeanor.
1) Someone always needs to offset the aggression with the right amount of time and effort and I would rather invest that into being passively aggressive towards the duplicitous ways of the world and charm them into believing that I honestly care.
2) I don’t believe in sucker punches and kicks to the groin as they do more harm than good. As far as being dictated goes, how would that result in peaceful relations, never ever. Begrudgingly beautiful is the doppelganger that regards logic as the inbred voice of reason and vindicated living as the proof of evil.
3) I would never support a weakened sense of victory and will only strive towards the fighting spirt of a survivor who takes his adversary by surprise rather than reprise.
4) The more devoted you are, the more you lie. I believe that secrecy is the coveted prize of this electronic age and regret is the price that you pay.
Serenity had yet again invited depravity.
As the corners of his mouth twitched and his hands that were clammy with frustration ran through his well kept hair, he connected his persuasion with brown nosing and proclaimed about me being safe than sorry, where is the excitement in that…
He regained his sense of confidence and stood tall over me. I kept my cool and sensed an impending argument with a dying breed.
I knocked him off his feet with an insightful quote poignantly written by Mark Twain- “You are never wrong doing the right thing.”
You don’t need a sense of thrill or excitement to live right and face challenges head on. We are all we need and it goes beyond saying that faith takes giant leaps only when the fear of the unknown is wiped off the slate….
I, well known as the brain is still in a stupor as I hear a thud and incorrigible curses ringing in my eardrums.
He, alas little known of as brawn is in a overdrive as my arm feels an inexplicable urge to slide under in the agony of a misconstrued pose.
“Wake up, it’s 8pm, you need to get dressed for that fancy party” , bellowed my roommate as she literally dragged me, oh so groggy self to the bathroom.
I got out of her steel-like grip and swore to be ready in a jiffy.She left huffing and panting.I splashed ice cold water on my face and looked at the upside down book that gave me a bump on my head and a bruise on my arm: “Battle of the sexes-Brain vs Brawn”
I contemplated the dream that I had slipped into and then it hit me , sexism just attained a new high.
If and when the brains complemented beauty , it would be a match made in heaven and that would be a fairytale ending in my otherwise mundane life.
Ironically, Brain knocks over Brawn in the knockout round and the remnants of the fallout are washed down by the overbearing influence of alcohol and recreational drugs that the flashy dress in the party of the year gets me to.