Trishanku- II

…..so we left him sleeping. He never slept in dark. The light was a constant reminder that whatever he may see in his dreams is a farce. Among other things dreams are also a reminder of being unsuccessful. Most of the times, in dreams, you see what you want to happen and get what you want or you are very close to it. So, whenever he woke up from those dreams and saw the fluorescent-lit room existing the same way before he had slept, it made him realise the futility of aspirations and expectations that plagued his dreams. He never had a control over them. Earlier he made it a habit of reading some chapters from a nondescript book so as to have nonchalant dreams. But this was of no avail. As a result he tried to sleep as less as possible.

Somewhere around 11 a.m. after the incessant pestering of that alarm turned mobile phone he woke up. Fumbled for a cigarette. There was none. He cursed himself for smoking it last night itself. Smoking is a double-edged sword. It becomes the cause of innumerable ailments that one may later suffer from and the lack of it at the very moment makes you feel non-existent. He managed to get a half-smoked butt from the ashtray. Very carefully he lighted it as to avoid burning his fingers and the lips. It ended in another three puffs. The whole exercise consumed less than 20 seconds and took both sleep and some precious minutes of life away. Nowadays, he did not think that far. The bugle for the war resounded in his mind…..the day had begun.

There is nothing much to tell about his work. To others it may sound interesting; perhaps for some it may be intellectual or may be varied. But the fact is – It didn't pay much. Though money never mattered to him. Like his other stupid rules, the one over money was - It's not important on whom you spending, it makes a difference on what makes you spend that.
So our dear friend mostly ended up in splurges of all kinds only to realise that he never bought much for himself. Perhaps, he knew that clothes do not fit in with his physique, gizmos tempted him but not for long, books he bought them only when he has read everything else that he got for free. To spend money, nah not money nor spending, for him it was to see the smile on some one's face whom he most wants was most important and if money can buy it, why not?
The question which always troubled him was - Do I too deserve a smile? But like as always he had to buy the smile, never he found anyone except few who bought it for him. And those few were nearly diminished now.

Office was all about proving himself. Throw him a challenge and he will give his everything to it. But then there was a catch, like it was there in every aspect of his life - The generation of disinterest. He feared that. It had been the root cause of his failures. No not failures. He never failed. He just opted out. Twice at peak and once when just started. His parents chided him, friends made joke but he was searching for what could satiate him.

We will not talk about his love-life. He never had one. He felt used. He acted as a tool. A living tool. Perhaps this may be his understanding. Perhaps he was not perfect. Perhaps he deserved to be so. Anyhow, all this while incident such as this, no accidents such as this, made him realise one thing, he will never get what he wants and those wants will always be there.

It was night. like always, he decided to drive through a new route. This was a new game. Interesting. He put the ignition on and zipped ahead. There was no traffic. It appeared that the city was under curfew. Not even a single policeman can be seen for miles. He drove a little fast. This route was different. He bent down to light his cigarette. The road ahead was blocked. It took two seconds or may be less than that and then everything became normal. The metal amalgamated with flesh and there was a distinct smell in the air. Something had stopped beating but there were sounds.....