Hiatus

Nobody came. Not Shankar. Not Krishna. Not even the Monkey God, whom I visited religiously, every Saturday, for last five years. I was received rather plainly, by a plenitude of sharp penetrating light, the one which I had often seen while shaving a beard, staring into a hundred volt bulb from a foot's distance. It blinded me instantaneously, but leaving enough room, so as for me to know that nobody came.

And in this blindness, when I meandered about, eyes shut and hands stretched, I gathered that I'd missed the floor, which ended quite abruptly not far away from where I'd started. It reminded me of my seventh standard English teacher, who often threw at me humongous words like a pestilential child! who did what was not to be done, who more than once had attempted to convert sentences into indirect speech, which were to begin with in the required format. But she, with her virtue, still kept at her best, showing off her profundity in vocabulary, which I found tedious to ears. Whilst admiring the wisdom of my professor, I had, momentarily forgotten my current crisis.

I fell to an eternal falling. Not the ones you stumble upon in your sleep, a quick short fall from a bed or staircases, which would shiver you to wakefulness. It was rather a controlled fall, with such severe tranquility, that I, who while at my life, beseeched to digressing from mundane could not but acknowledge its creator's sincerity. While I did appreciate its temporal anomalous setting, I was, within a brief span of time, thoroughly equipped with not only its slowness of speed but also the erratic shift of direction in the fall. And for a man, to gauge this, who did not ever understand the sequential pattern of the songs, which shuffled on an I Pod, was a remarkable achievement I believed. So, while I was boasting at my own achievements, I did a fear a trap, perhaps, a crafty plan to put me back from where I came.

Will I be split into multiples of myself to keep-up to the spilling earth? Or will I, one fine day, drop into a mother's womb?

My marrows began to tense. The water from below the skin tansuded through the small pores. And with a sweaty feeling in my palms, I was beginning to fade. My knowledge trapped into the layers of these falls, lost to its ambushes, permanently. My worries ceased.

I was born.