A: Ever thought how it would feel when you are being chased by a bull, or may be by a locked missile meant to tail you?
B: You got no better thing to do, do you..?
A: Well, you are partly right, I have lost everything that I held important and hence have lost importance of everything that I knew was important. Everything is so superficial, all the glitters and mosaic faces, the flinty emotions, everything is so surface like, right on the face, nothing in the flesh.
B: What do you mean?
A: One day, they’ll take you in the skies, and then they’ll push you in the well, one day they’ll promise to take you by the wrist, and then they’ll slap you on the face, and then you’ll regret that day, for it was the day that you assumed would be responsible to others, it was the day when you had held your trust on somebody so much that when it was broken, you couldn’t even pick up the pieces and join it back, you tried to get something together, but it was never the same, it had been deformed beyond repair.
B: What happened dude, you sad about something?
A: Not sad exactly, as a matter of fact, who would even care if I am. It’s a lonely path ahead, you meet faces, you forget some of them, you care about some, and some of them would return that care, but not for long, they’ll stab you on your back as soon as you’ll turn your head. They say that there’s no purpose without love, I say there’s no love without purpose, and there is no selfless good deed, as somebody had put it.
B: Its all rubbish you are talking, obviously there’s still people helping…..
A: Yes there are people helping while you go, there will be people lending shoulders while you limp, there will be people clearing your way when you are weakened, but everything would be planned, everything involves a motive, its all a deposit in the Favor Bank as Paulo Coelho puts it, where everyone deposits to eventually withdraw when they need it.
B: Yes, maybe you are right, even I can think of twenty wrongs if a stranger would stop in the middle of some endeavor and help in my journey, even I think of fifty wrongs if a person lends me money when I really want it, even I can think of hundred wrongs when a girl comes to talk to me from nowhere, but I always choose one single right reason that I could get out of anything, because if I don’t, I’ll simply fuck my social life…
A: You’ve made it look so easy my friend; God has been clearly imperfect in making our brains to see through someone else’s minds. He gave us senses, all imperfect, in fact all confusing with their purpose of being, it had been better if he had not made them instead, because now that they are there, you rely on them, you believe in everything they percept, and that is where they’ll murder your every intentions. It is a lonely path my friend, as you walk it, you will see the ground slip beneath, you will try to hear the sounds from the still graveyards, you will try to hear the groans from a picture on the wall, your eyes will try to define the infinite view of the road ahead, may be you will stop over and sit near a pond, throwing stone horizontally in the waters and watch the ripples marching away in unison, and soon its time for you to settle down, your feet would have rusted, your hands criss-crossed by the myriad wrinkles, your whole body looking like a scarecrow being tortured in the heat of the day, and then you die and nothing remains, your reminiscences too following your travel to the cemetery give the finishing touches to your grave.
B: (speechless)…………………………………………………………………Huh!!I don’t get you……………………………………………………………………