The red hot sun was making me sweat profusely. All I could hear on Highway 36 for the past one hour was the loud thud of my Harley. I was happy to see a tunnel in the distance. The road looked like a shiny black tongue stretching out from the face of the tunnel. It was ready to devour me and the monster on which I was sitting. The dark ride through the tunnel was a kind of solace for me. I felt it was a kind of reflection of my past. If I take the pessimistic view, this ride from the brightness of the sun to the darkness of the tunnel might be a way of telling myself that I could go back to what I was, anytime. But, pessimistic views are not for me now. That was in the other life, when doom ruled my thoughts. The new me has spelt doom for those old thoughts which had ate me up, almost fully. Now, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe, if I turn back now I could see the same on the other side too. The light which I failed to see in my troubled past.
Back to the burning plate of the sun again. I could see a sweat drop trickling down on my dark glasses. The long locks are swinging like hell in the wind. I rode on like this for 5 more hours. The train of thoughts and hopes made that feel like just 5 minutes. The 'Floyds pub' sign on the highwayside brought a smile to my face. I donnow, somehow I could feel the tunes of Floyd's 'coming back to life' running though my mind right now. It was time to rest the monster Harley. As I walked in, I thought about the many days I spent in a stoned state. It was needed then to steel my heart considering the kind of work I did. I searched for a lonely corner, unlike the olden days when it was always a place for 'the gang'. The place was brimming with youth and new age metal music from the likes of 'Lamb of God'. I was happy that I could still connect to the music as well as the youthful atmosphere there. They say, 'you are never too old to rock n roll'.
My throat got wet, thanks to the 'old monk'. Suddenly, I could feel a discordant note. No, it was not the music. One familiar stranger just took his seat opposite to me. His style and demeanour reminded me of myself of the old. But the face seemed quiet familiar, only the expression on it was just opposite to what I could relate to the face.
I was startled when he asked, "Ever heard the final countdown?"
That's the dialogue so often blurted out by the old me. And the ones who heard that never lived to tell the tale. Did I make a mistake somewhere?
"You just asked me the question. You never let me hear the song"
Yes, I had made a mistake. Sometimes overconfidence can make you careless. Now, this is it. The result of one such overconfident job staring at me when I least wanted it. Because, this is the new me. Just then I heard the music in the pub change to 'The Final countdown'.
"Countdowns are best enjoyed when you have a pistol in your hand".
Yes, It was his time to enjoy.
"Pistols can save lives. One such thing in your hand saved mine 10 years back. I always wanted to say thankyou"
That was when I realised, I haven't uttered a single word until now. Is the 'new me' a coward? Will the 'old me' forgive the 'new me' for this? No, am gonna speak.
"Pistols can take lives too. One such thing in my hand 10 years back is gonna take mine now."
He smiled at that. He leaned in towards me and put the pistol in my hand.
"Some things are best left unsaid. I meant to say thank you."
That was the last I saw of him. I was again left with a pistol in my hand, the same size as the one which I threw in the river yesterday night. Is it back to the 'old life' for me? I was walking out when I saw them, a group of rogues beating up and molesting some helpless girls. I could see the cameras flashing and crowd looking in anticipation, but not a single soul to raise his hand. I just thought of the man's words, "Pistols can save lives". I had one such thing in my hand now. Yes, some deaths can save a lot of lives.
Thud!Thud!Thud!...The job is done. Before the hungry vultures from the media could devour me I had got on my monster. The thud of the Harley blended well with the still ringing echoes of the bullet. The 'new me' has done his first job. The first one in a long line...
PS- Was starved of subjects to write on. So I started something meaninglessly from one end. Still donnow why I wrote this.
your crusader Praveen
Back to the burning plate of the sun again. I could see a sweat drop trickling down on my dark glasses. The long locks are swinging like hell in the wind. I rode on like this for 5 more hours. The train of thoughts and hopes made that feel like just 5 minutes. The 'Floyds pub' sign on the highwayside brought a smile to my face. I donnow, somehow I could feel the tunes of Floyd's 'coming back to life' running though my mind right now. It was time to rest the monster Harley. As I walked in, I thought about the many days I spent in a stoned state. It was needed then to steel my heart considering the kind of work I did. I searched for a lonely corner, unlike the olden days when it was always a place for 'the gang'. The place was brimming with youth and new age metal music from the likes of 'Lamb of God'. I was happy that I could still connect to the music as well as the youthful atmosphere there. They say, 'you are never too old to rock n roll'.
My throat got wet, thanks to the 'old monk'. Suddenly, I could feel a discordant note. No, it was not the music. One familiar stranger just took his seat opposite to me. His style and demeanour reminded me of myself of the old. But the face seemed quiet familiar, only the expression on it was just opposite to what I could relate to the face.
I was startled when he asked, "Ever heard the final countdown?"
That's the dialogue so often blurted out by the old me. And the ones who heard that never lived to tell the tale. Did I make a mistake somewhere?
"You just asked me the question. You never let me hear the song"
Yes, I had made a mistake. Sometimes overconfidence can make you careless. Now, this is it. The result of one such overconfident job staring at me when I least wanted it. Because, this is the new me. Just then I heard the music in the pub change to 'The Final countdown'.
"Countdowns are best enjoyed when you have a pistol in your hand".
Yes, It was his time to enjoy.
"Pistols can save lives. One such thing in your hand saved mine 10 years back. I always wanted to say thankyou"
That was when I realised, I haven't uttered a single word until now. Is the 'new me' a coward? Will the 'old me' forgive the 'new me' for this? No, am gonna speak.
"Pistols can take lives too. One such thing in my hand 10 years back is gonna take mine now."
He smiled at that. He leaned in towards me and put the pistol in my hand.
"Some things are best left unsaid. I meant to say thank you."
That was the last I saw of him. I was again left with a pistol in my hand, the same size as the one which I threw in the river yesterday night. Is it back to the 'old life' for me? I was walking out when I saw them, a group of rogues beating up and molesting some helpless girls. I could see the cameras flashing and crowd looking in anticipation, but not a single soul to raise his hand. I just thought of the man's words, "Pistols can save lives". I had one such thing in my hand now. Yes, some deaths can save a lot of lives.
Thud!Thud!Thud!...The job is done. Before the hungry vultures from the media could devour me I had got on my monster. The thud of the Harley blended well with the still ringing echoes of the bullet. The 'new me' has done his first job. The first one in a long line...
PS- Was starved of subjects to write on. So I started something meaninglessly from one end. Still donnow why I wrote this.
your crusader Praveen
12 comments:
a nice one dude... but no start no end kinds.... out of the blue kinda story :)
after reading this, I did a Google and found out that OMR is sold outside India also :)
Old monk and you!!! Its for old and creaking guys like me dude! On a serious note, this is pretty good writing!
still it was worth the read bro...
www.chronicwriter.com
You write this when you're starved of subjects? Ahem.
Nice one there...subtle emotions stitched well together to form a nice black heavy metal T-shirt! Lol! Sorry! :P
But really, a good job. :)
Neat one, bro'... Keep 'em coming!
Dude... I've told you before. You make a very good story teller. Keep at it...
Peace.
You have been tagged :
http://vimalsparadise.blogspot.com/2009/02/19-19.html
your story reminded me of a quote .. " one who fights monsters must take care, lest he become a monster himself"
I guess you went in the reverse order :P
i loved the part where u described what he was going through after seeing that familiar face with a pistol ....
eeethu english padathile baadhayaanu deehathu koodiyirikkunnathu?? Poojayum hoomavum valloom nadathno? :P
@vv
just like the state of my mind yesterday :D
@xh
hahhaaa...I never thought about that when I wrote it.
@rockus
old monk or new monk doesn't make a difference for me man, since I dont drink :P
@chriz
thnks man:)
@Tara
hahhaa...yea..indeed a black heavy metal t shirt
@kartz
thanks for that man:)
@vimmu
already done the same tag
@sid
yea..xactly..it was in the reverse..
@thomman
hehhehe...ethokkeyo kore padangal undu..;)
Hi Praveen.... guess you will be there for the Heavy Metal bloggers meet... great. This is a reminder and it will be great if you can confirm again by putting a comment on http://www.indiblogger.in/bloggermeet.php?id=24 or mail me at anwin at indiblogger dot in or give me a call at 9880518019. Thanks
Meaningless scribblings often makes sense in the end...
I enjoyed reading this :)
wishes,
devika
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