Blahsphemy

Happy B'day said the card. The old man frowned. The dates on the calendar was nowhere near his b'day. Looks like someone has skipped a few months, he muttered. Wait a second, even the year is wrong. Or is it the calendar on the wall that's trying to deceive me now, he thought. No, it can't be. I have been looking at it ever since I was a child and it has never let me down.  

Before you pull the plug,  let me take a nice long breath.  For it will be my last. 

Don't look at it, he hissed. It's a lie. But, it's a mirror. It's my reflection we are talking about. True, isn't your reflection a lie? A lie shaped out of cosmetics, trends, beliefs and what not. Aren't you always looking for something that you want to see? In that process don't you miss the obvious? Didn't some one say that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder? Now tell me what are you looking at? Isn't that a lie?

Some days I am useless. My mind refuses to work. Like today. You get the drift right? I am not going to intrigue you or wow you with a tale. Go find some other blog where you can have them. 

When the world ends, I want to be there. At the very end, holding the sign 'The End'. Famous last words of a supersonic road racer before he shot off towards the horizon. 

This is a mail for you, the stranger who lives inside my body. The one who is doing a good job of being me for the world. Thank you for making me who I am. I hope one day you will introduce yourself to me, for we have a lot to explain for each other's actions. Waiting for that day. Your's sincerely. 

The movie got over long back. The screen flickered and died like the villain. The seats were empty except for one. The usher shone his light on the face that was covered by hair. He recoiled in fear. It was him, the man that looks back at him every time he looks in the mirror. 

The drumroll was for the winner. Every muscle in his body was aching and the crowd was hysterical. He took one more look at the arena. The floodlight was blinding. The crowd's roar was deafening. Slap, slap, slap. "What the heck are you doing moron? You are supposed to clean the ring, not to drool over it. "

The machine belched smoke and soot. It looked around like an enraged bull, let out a loud rattle and died. You can see it even now on top of the hill like a dead beetle with smaller vehicles swarming around it. Little did he know that he will be called the roundabout. Some say he brought great shame to the fossil fuel guzzling breed he belonged to. Some of them still blow a gasket of you mention the roundabout.   

I sent a mail to myself reminding me that I exist. 

The storm was calm, reported the met department. The newspaper editor had a tough time figuring out the headline for that. Suddenly all the cliches were failing him. Maybe, he thought that was news. 

I have written this before. Haven't I? Why don't you sit and search all my posts? And that's how I ended up staring at the computer screen when the baseball bat crushed my skull.