Blahsphemy

Vaclav looked at his hands. His skin has started peeling off. He had experienced this before. Every time, a new Vaclav used to emerge from within. At first he used to dread it. But now, he waits for it. He knew that mother nature will have some surprise or the other in store for him. Last time a fair skinned Vaclav had emerged. This time what will it be? Vaclav couldn't wait anymore. He rushed to the taxidermist's shop. The taxidermist resembled one of his dust covered masterpieces. It was impossible to imagine him wielding a scalpel. His vision had blurred long back. His shop was in the ruins. These didn't deter Vaclav. He was eager to get out of his old skin. He lay on the taxidermist's table motionless yearning for salvation. Like always, the taxidermist disemboweled his new specimen with a clean sweep of his scalpel.

No I am not asleep. But then how come I am dreaming?

There goes my mind again. It's difficult to reign it in. If someone says not to think of girls, that will be the first thing my mind latches on. If I know there is no water, my mind will make me so thirsty that I will kill someone for a drop of water. If someone says blogspot has been blocked by the IT department goons, my mind will scream alternate proxies. I have to mind my mind before someone minds.

I am not going to let some skinny ***** steal him. Which skinny ***** are you talking about? That **** who works with him? Or the ***** that sleeps around with every ***** in town? Nope I am talking about the other ****. That ******* **** for whom he is all ears. Remember the last time she flashed her **** and he couldn't sleep. I am talking about that tight *****. **** you got some serious competition there. Yeah ****. ****.

Expect the unexpected. How predictable.

Pull the trigger, fire me up, the bullet wailed. It has been years since someone let me free. I want to shock the world with my might. I want to smash in to my target. I want to make the biggest bang. I want to blow up into smithereens. I want salvation. I want freedom. Then trigger was squeezed. The hammer fell. "Damn squib". That's all the bullet heard before it hit the ground.

I am unwanted. I come unannounced. I am a stranger. I am looked upon suspiciously. I am junked. I am deleted. I harbor a malicious link. I am irritating. I use up your memory. I tempt you to your downfall. I tease you with porn. I solicit. I ask you unnecessary things. I scare you. I steal. I beg. I borrow. I mislead. I bankrupt. Well, I am just your everyday spam.

How much? He asked the old man peddling baubles. He was in a hurry. How much for this one? He asked again, pointing to the big red stone. The old man's fingers came alive. They probed the small wooden plank on which the baubles were kept. They hesitated near the red stone and moved on to a green one. He was growing impatient at the old man. The old man picked up the green stone and said One Dollar. That's not the one I want, he muttered. Oh I am sorry, you wanted the big one, said the old man. That will be Two Dollars. What drama, the old fool wanted to push the green stone, he thought. He handed the old man a five dollar bill. The old man caressed the note and then proceeded to sniff it. Damn, why did I even have to buy from this loon, he thought. Could you please spare me the exact change, nowadays it's tough to make out the worth of money, said the blind old man.

He could see the sun sneaking up on the horizon. Another day. Another struggle. Thought he. She could see the sun peeping from behind the trees. Another day. Another adventure. Thought she. They could see the sun smiling on their village. Another day. Another hunt. Thought they. What Hubble saw was only a wayward meteor that was headed for a planet called Earth.

The rain drops tried in vain to make love to the glass pane. The street lamp's rays flirted with them and gave them a golden hue. The breeze helped them collide into each other and languidly flow. The pane tried to stay aloof to the wet caress. Only the wood that held the pane could feel its muted tremors of ecstasy as every rain drop slid by. "Let go, let go" it whispered in the pane's ears. "How can I? When you have framed me?" was the pane's reply.

You look like me. You are copying me. You are aping me. You are imitating me. You are my alter ego. Your are my reflection. You are my shadow. You are mimicking me. You are insulting me. You are pissing me off. You make me a narcissist. You evoke me. You are nothing without me. You provoke me. You... and then the mirror shattered.

Someone knocked me down. I didn't know who. I was happily lost in my world when that someone collided in to my dreams and shattered everything. All I could feel was the air evading my groping hands. I came crashing down. I heard the muted curse of my assailant. I heard the neighbor's dog. I heard the rats scurrying. I heard everything. Except for my tormentor's approach.

I have been beaten and bruised. I have been kicked viciously day in and day out. I have been saved by hands only to be thrown away in an instant at some spiky boot. All I wanted was to lie on the velvety grass and watch the clouds float by. The only time I got close to my dream was when I was lost. Oh boy, it felt good even though I was in a thicket. There was no one to kick me around. But it was short lived. A dog found me. I was his playmate. He used to bite me whenever I tried to roll away. Then one day he got bored and went away. By then I had lost a bit of my bounce. I didn't have the sheen of my heydays. My bruised began to show. I was suddenly old. My skin started sagging. I now long to be kicked around. I miss the spiky boots. I miss myself.

Get in Unzip Pull out Let it go Spurt, spurt Drip, drip Shake, shake Tuck in Zip up Flush Go

Mirabelle and Annabelle were sisters. They were inseparable. Some even called them twins. Only they knew who was who. On that fateful day when the farmer came to slaughter one, no one knew who was the unfortunate one. For the one that was left always responded with the same bleat as the one that ended up in the stew.