Another Story

A circular road breaks off the daily race of human conventions and floats against the stereotypes of the century. A narrow path diverges from the daily hankering for fuel and defiled breaths of thousand people lurking in daylight. On its right, the kitchens of mediocre momo joints dole out the waste of last ten decades, liquidating the lungs of the city every afternoon. On the left, the air-conditioned restaurants bear the fancy lads with fancy wallets full of fancy wads of money. Two sides of a road; two conflicting worlds dangling by a thread. And a man, balancing on it. Two opposite poles changing their day-to-day gaits before the closed eyes of another man. He’s the third side of the road; the one-fourth of a story. A madman, drowning in the anaemic sweat of the streets. Dirty underpants, dirty beard and dirty nails, ‘dirty’ being the absurd peculiarity. Does he keep track of time? Years, months, days, split seconds? Does he know that he could’ve stepped onto his fifty-ninth birthday one freakish midnight, maybe? Or, a day before that?

‘HELP ME’, he always writes on the floor of mud. The exact same words in three languages using three different colours. Then he draws a picture of an Indian deity. He keeps his coloured chalks in a plastic packet, hidden from the eyes of the spectators; and hawks. The white chalk touches the face and the long neck, pink forms the countenance of breasts along with the plump belly and blue shades the rest of Her existence. Only God knows whether She bears so many shades and colours!

At the opposite an abandoned house struggles in keeping its broken spine straight. Red bricks and unsynchronized symphonies. Holes and voids flash out like an old lady’s missing tooth. Another assortment of dry memories. Dead trees keep on brushing against the yellow frames of pleasure. Thousand years of secrets are wallowing in the dust of nostalgia. Secrets and grime are the inseparable twins. Rust is the biggest sell at the auction.

As I was walking down the street, I was trying to connect the dots, if there is one. Maybe there isn’t. Not all the dots are always connected. A spooky house and a broke artist. Elements for a second-class horror novel. Or maybe, a tear-squishing heart-wrenching napkin-soaking story of abject poverty. Each story stands out disdaining one another’s weight. But I’ve got to glue them together. A mild connection is all I’m asking for. Maybe the beggar was thrown out of this very house fifty years ago and he just couldn’t leave. Now he’s carrying the load of history on his clenched jaws. Or, maybe the real connection is getting erased in the rush of yet another sunset, just like his memory.

The truth is we’re all pursuing the art of chasing some random story. Some with binoculars, some with bare canvases, some with morbid eyes, others with decolourised imagination. Some stories are forming out of thin air and disappearing at one swipe of the aura of scheduled monsoon. Some are happening right before your eyes when your subconscious mind is playing another story on the hard disc of your brain. A calendar holds a million enigmatic stories on each date.

Million stories. Only a few story-sellers.


25 Comments Add yours

  1. Really wonderful!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Nicole says:

    Beautiful story. It’s like a reminder that we really don’t always know the whole story. Sometimes we can’t connect the dots.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. delhifundos2014 says:

    Wow. Awesome story. Very well written

    Liked by 1 person

  4. bmcharnley says:

    What an interesting read. Connecting the dots is hard sometimes.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Princess quinn says:

    This is heartbreaking. You are such a good writer. These are another very well written words that draw picture to my head.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Flyingkids says:

    This is a wonderful post! Very inspiring and sincere.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Olga Zak says:

    Very interesting read. This is heartbreaking. You are such a good writer. Thanks for sharing this.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Love that last paragraph. This is so true, I really do think people are all chasing some story.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. toastycritic says:

    There are millions of stories out there to be told every day. You just need the right person to come by to see it and tell it.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Deserted_Queen says:

    First of all, it is great as usual. This is real and not a story I feel because on the roads of India we see these people. We want to do something for them but still we can’t. Thank you for putting a light on it.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Yes, you’re right. It is not entirely fiction. I happen to see this guy everyday and yes, I can’t help him even if I want to. That’s the saddest part.


  12. There really are so many stories out there to be told. Everyone is going through their own challenges and handling them in their own ways. Love this!

    Liked by 1 person

  13. ninakasper says:

    Lovely story! There is always more than one side so we need to be mindful of all those involved in the story.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. What a touching story. The way you write could be award-winning. Thanks for sharing! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Sara Welch says:

    If only I could write a story like this. You captured true, real emotions; that makes the difference.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. ninalehan21 says:

    there are so many perspectives to one event, it makes it harder to decipher. thank you for sharing this post 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Kiwi says:

    Great writing per usual. Good notes on how we need to look at things from a different perspective.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. There are so many different ways to interpret this story. Are the man and the home connected? Are they not? What does the deity represent to the man…and to the house?

    Liked by 1 person

  19. Exactly. Too many possible connections. Or, maybe there is none.


  20. VidLyf says:

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    Liked by 1 person

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  22. Wanda Lopez says:

    You’re such a great writer. Love your story.

    Liked by 1 person

  23. Deserted_Queen says:

    Isn’t it the same issue with all of us we want to help them but we can’t ..

    Liked by 1 person

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