Static - Short Story #7

I  have a serious hypnic jerk problem. A hypnic jerk is a sudden muscle twitch that occurs involuntarily while one drifts off to sleep and jerks one awake. Just like that falling sensation you have in a dream and you are woken up with a jerk. It is quite normal and quite a lot of people experience it. It is said that the muscles relax when falling asleep and the body sees changes in temperature and breathing. The brain misinterprets this as a sign of falling and thus the sudden jerk. In a way it is just another reflex to allow the body to function. 

I started experiencing this almost every night and started to get frustrated because I would have to wait to fall asleep after a hypnic jerk. And as I was about to fall asleep again, I would experience another one. Eventually, I'd drift off to dreamland, but only after a series of twitches. There was nothing I could do about it. I consulted a doctor who told me that I had an unhealthy lifestyle and should give up drinking and smoking and start exercising. Now that was a difficult thing to do for someone in college. 

One day, I was lying in bed, having trouble sleeping. That's when I got a weird idea. I decided to film myself falling asleep. I booted up my laptop and switched on the webcam and set it on a table in such a way that it would film me in the sleeping position from my left side. I also set up my handycam on a tripod, a few inches from my feet thus filming me in a vertical position. I chose 'night mode' and hit record on both and went to sleep. I was actually excited as I always wanted to see how it looked when I got these hypnic jerks. I was so excited that I didn't fall asleep till 4 a.m. My mind was racing and bursting with thoughts. I was also tired and wanted to badly fall asleep but couldn't. So I switched of both the cams and went back to bed. I was actually camera conscious and this was barring me from falling asleep. Once I turned them off, everything went back to normal. I barely got two hours of sleep before the alarm started ringing.

That day in college, I had football practice and our team went for drinks later in the evening. When I reached home at around 11 p.m., I was dead tired and wanted to hit bed badly. I gathered the strength to shower, felt sleepier and went straight to bed, not before turning on both my cams. This time I slept like a baby. I woke up at six again cursing the alarm, hitting the snooze button and buried myself under the blanket. Then I woke up jumping to see if the cams were still recording. 

Yes! they had. I turned them off. I quickly browsed my laptop and found the video I was looking for. It was a large file and was 7 hours long. It took a while to load and I quickly skimmed the video to see if there was anything strange. But to my disappointment, there was nothing big. Most of the time, it was me lying stationary occasionally changing sleeping positions. The hypnic jerks did not occur nor had I felt anything the last night maybe because I was really tired and also because of the lack of sleep from the previous day. I did not bother looking at what the handycam had recorded from a different angle. I just took down the tripod and put my cam back into the kit and forgot about it. 

A month had passed or so. My friend was leaving on a trip to Rome and he asked me if he could borrow my cam. I readily agreed and said I'd give it to him later that evening. So I was home later that day watching a movie on the internet when my friend arrived and was honking from his car. I looked out of the window and he shouted for me and asked for the cam. I shouted back, told him I'd bring it down and hurriedly went to find my camera. I found it and quickly checked if it had the batteries, charger etc. Then I remembered the footage I had recorded. Obviously I did not want anyone to see what I had filmed and was about to delete it. But something told me to take a quick look at the video. I played it on playback mode and watched myself sleeping on the small LCD. Fast forwarded it for a couple of minutes. My friend was honking madly. Then I saw movement. I rewinded to look closely and played again. What followed horrified me.

On the small screen, I could see it clearly. And what I had seen could not be unseen. I was lying there sleeping normally. Then I started to move, I woke up sitting on my bed. Eyes wide open. It was a cold stare looking straight into the camera, which meant I was now looking at myself on the cam looking back at me. I just sat there on the bed staring and then there was this creepy smile. My heart was pounding hard. I was smiling, tilting my head left and right staring straight into the cam. Then it went static. Nothing but static. I fast forwarded to find nothing. I rewinded to play the same thing again even though I was scared to death. Nothing. More static. I could not find what I had just watched. My friend was shouting my name from below. I ignored him and switched off my cam and switched it on. This time, I could not find the file. My whole head started to feel heavy and I was palpitating. I could not find that video file. The last file I had recorded was some birthday party. I checked and rechecked. I removed the battery, put it on and tried again. Nothing at all. That video I had recorded of me sleeping was gone.

I was standing in shock when my friend slapped me on my back and bought me to reality. He shouted asking me what was taking so long. I just handed him the cam saying nothing. He was in a hurry. He snatched it, called me a weirdo and left. I just stood there not knowing what to do. I opened my laptop and played the video that I had recorded. I played it for a while, then in fast motion. But it was normal. It had recorded everything till the last minute until the moment I woke up and stopped recording. 

Till date, I have no idea what I saw. But when I think of that creepy face of mine smiling, it gives me the jitters. I would easily dismiss this as a hallucination. But I was not drunk, I was normal on that day and seriously, it scared the shit out of me. Everyday I go to bed dreading to fall asleep. And I never turn off the lights. Never.

Stop the hate

Fine. This meme got my blood boiling right away. Not funny. For those asking me where's my sense of humour? It's shoved deep in your ass. I admit India is not the perfect country to live in. We have corruption, illiteracy, poverty, caste discrimination and much more but whatever it may be, we are not a country of rapists. The other day, I watched some video on Youtube about some Indian stuff, don't remember what and one comment was, "what took the busy Indians from their gang raping schedule to make this video".

Just because a few cases of rape make the headlines, the whole of India does not need to get tarnished. I am an Indian and I respect women. I am not sexist and I believe in the empowerment of women. And this I speak on behalf of my fellow Indians. We are a country built on family values and traditions. I don't give a fuck about people who radicalise issues regarding gender, caste, religion or anything else. A majority of us stand up for rights, no matter what. The media is doing a wonderful job at sensationalising rape stories rather than focussing on various development issues. No point blaming them.

You will be surprised to learn how many infuriated Indians took the streets protesting in Delhi against the recent gang rape that shocked all. So stop with this stereotyping shit already. Or if you want to play the stereotype game, then:

I know some Americans who are not obese
I know some Arabs who are not terrorists
I know some Australians who are not racists
I know some Britishers who are not pregnant at the age 16
I know some Mexicans who are not immigrants
I know some Germans who are not nazis
I know some Russians who are not drunkards
I know some Israelis who are not selfish
I know some Pakistanis who take a bath
I know some Chinese who don't eat dogs, cats and cockroaches

Reminds me of a quote from Einstein, "Weakness of attitude becomes weakness of character."

Trapped in my own mind

                   

So I came across this picture, strange to say but it was in the humour section of a website I frequently browse. I could not see anything funny in it but rather relate to it. I don't know what you've perceived from this picture, but to me I see happiness in death. 

People say cowards commit suicide and I don't believe that. The underlying reason for someone to commit suicide is something that others fail to understand because they will never comprehend the mental state of someone who feels suicidal. And even if they do, a tremendous amount of effort is needed to snap someone out of it. 

Some people are born optimists, I fail to understand where they get so much positivity from? possible via lessons from life. But for me, I find it difficult to focus when I get depressed. A great battle erupts within my mind. Battle between the 'optimist me army' and the 'pessimist me army'. Then there is a 'realist me' standing and watching the battle in progress. The 'realist me' is like an all knowing wizard who sees what is happening and also knows the actual outcome, but is always powerless. These army personnels literally fight in my mind and if the optimists win, I look forward to life. But if they lose and the pessimists succeed, I am fucked. These pessimist forces invade my brain cells and rape my mind. The result is devastating. 

The mind refuses to think. Refuses to think outside the box, refuses to believe that there is a way out, refuses to shun bad feelings, and wants to end life. And the state of mind is similar to the picture above. Well atleast in my case. What happens then?

The 'optimist forces' in my head are well trained and the best in the body. Their intelligence is so good that they have the best back up plans. Their success rate is brilliant and they have never failed. Because if they had, I wouldn't be here typing this. Throughout the history of my mind, these two forces (optimists and pessimists) have fought in my head. Sometimes for days or even months. Recently when the pessimists won, killing all optimist forces, my mind was in great turmoil. But somehow, history repeated itself. The Trojan war. A handful of surviving optimist forces hid themselves in a wooden horse and placed it in a corner of my mind. The enemy forces bought it in to the brain cells and the rest as you know is history. I call the hidden 'optimist forces' in the horse by a different name, HOPE.

The battle is over for now. But I can guarantee there will be many more in the future. And I really count on the 'optimist forces'. Without them, I am doomed. But I am sure they will come up with a plan. They always do.

Karma - Short Story #6

My mother died just before my tenth birthday. I was at school when dad came to pick me up during the middle of a class session. I had no idea what was going on. He was crying and driving. When we reached home, I was informed by my aunty that my mother had passed away and was in heaven with God. I did not see her body. Later I learnt she was burnt alive in terrible car accident.

My Dad remarried in an year. I did not like my step mother from day one. She never spoke. She never disturbed me. Most of the time I was left alone in my room. I would only go down for breakfast, then leave for school. On return, I'd head back and lock myself in my room. She made no effort to spend time with me nor did I. Dad would check on me in the evening and ask me to come down for supper. We would be silent at the table except for some occasional questions from dad. My stepmother would not even make eye contact with me. She was very weird.

I slept with my door unlocked. It was dad's orders. A month after my stepmother moved in, she started to act strange. One night, I woke up from my sleep suddenly to find her standing by the door watching me. I had no idea for how long she had been standing there. But it was pretty late in the night. I was shocked, I tried to scream, but no sound came. It was because I was paralysed with fear. Then she left. Walked away just like that. I had trouble sleeping again, but slowly fell asleep by dawn.

This happened more than once. I caught her standing by the door at night a few more times. We never spoke. I would pull my covers and pretend to sleep until I heard her leaving. I always wanted to speak about this to dad. But the right time never came. One evening, when I returned from school. I saw my stepmother sitting on a chair near the table staring straight ahead at the wall. She did not move. She sat so still, one could assume she was dead. As I climbed the stairs for my room, I looked down to see if she was staring at anything in particular. No, nothing. Just the wall. It sort of creeped me out. An hour later, I came down again to find her sitting in the same position. I was convinced she was dead. I called her name. She turned her head in slow motion and looked at me. The face was expressionless. She just stared into my eyes. I started to feel uncomfortable. I went back to my room. That was the first time I had ever spoken to her. I had called her name, Jane.

Then one night a few weeks later, I was tossing and turning in my bed. I casually turned to look at the door and there she was standing. I lay still on my bed frozen. She walked towards me. Only my eyeballs moved. My heart started beating rapidly. She was standing next to me. All of a sudden she took a pillow lying next to me and pressed it flat on my face. I entered shock mode. She was suffocating me. I remember struggling for breath. Not a single sound came out. My hands and legs were trashing the bed having no control. She was strong and I could not resist or fight back. I was losing consciousness. Then blackness engulfed me. Everything became dark.

I don't remember anything that happened after. It was still dark. But I started hearing voices. Distorted voices of people laughing and talking. I could hear a strong heartbeat. A rhythmic heartbeat. I tried to open my eyes, but it was so dark that I had no idea if I had actually opened my eyes. I could not feel my hands or legs. I felt very different. 

The voices grew louder. I could actually hear dad. I started to hear a female voice too. There was laughter. I could sense joy and happiness. I kept drifting into reality and dreams. I dreamt of nothing though. It was more like a blackout. Then more voices. I never felt hungry, I never felt pain. I never felt myself.

I don't know how much time had passed. But my hearing got louder and louder. It was dark as usual. Was I in coma? What happened to me? She tried to kill me. I assumed I was in a hospital being treated. Definitely not dead. I was alive because I was still thinking. 

I kept hearing dad's voice, I could not make out what he was speaking. I could slowly feel myself moving. I could feel my body parts twitching. Not sure which one though. I was recovering. I hoped I would come into my senses soon. The sound of heartbeat was louder now. It felt like an echo. 

More blackout, then consciousness, then voices. It kept on repeating. Then my body started to move. I was feeling heavy. I was feeling tight. It felt like I was being squeezed. I was in pain. Deep pain. I heard crying. I felt the temperature changing. Light. My eyes. They felt different. It was blurred. I heard my dad's voice. He was shouting. What was he saying? "It's okay Jane, Stay with me Jane." Jane? That was my step mothers name. What on earth was going on.?

Then it struck like lightning, Everything in one nanosecond. The harsh crying, the light, the voices, I was stuck in the body of something else. A baby. A baby in the process of birth. I was being born. Again. To my stepmother. I could feel myself now. But only crying voices came out. I shouted for words. Nothing, more wailing. But I was only halfway out. How did all this happen? I was being born to someone who had killed me? That meant I had died. But I had the same mind. I had to kill her. She should not live.

I stopped moving. I could wiggle my legs. I heard myself crying. This was not my real body, Only my mind was mine. I was still thinking. What I tried to speak came out as mere noises. I cried in pain. "Push Jane, Push.", came multiple voices. "Jesus Christ, the baby is stuck half way" came a voice, "Doctor, she's losing blood pressure, there's a haemorrhage", someone screamed. I stopped wiggling, I found control of my body. I refused to move. But something involuntarily was making me move. I resisted. I resisted as hard as I could. "Doctor, we are losing her, do something" came a voice. "Jane, wake up, Jane please push, Jane, Jane", that was my father shouting. Even in such a moment of insanity, I knew if I did not come out of her womb completely, she would die soon. More voices of shouting and screaming along with my crying.

I succeeded. She died. I lived. I knew I had killed her. There was pin drop silence. "I am sorry sir, we tried our best, she lost excessive blood, the baby is fine.", came a voice. I smiled in my mind, but all that came out of my mouth was the sound of crying. Then there was darkness. I was beginning to lose consciousness again. I felt tired. As I was drifting to a dream like state, I was reminded of what my grandmother once said, "A new born knows of its previous life when it comes to the world. It cries and wails because it remembers everything from its past birth but cannot express it. It forgets and takes a new life after its first sleep. When they wake up, they know nothing of their past.

Shoe shiner - Short Story #5

The most interesting thing happened to me today. I was as usual waiting on High Street for a customer calling out to random people who wanted their shoes to be polished. "Half a penny for shining your shoes sir, have a seat sir", I kept yelling hoping someone with dirty shoes would walk by. Usually, if I worked till afternoon, I'd make enough to buy myself a loaf of bread and some tea. But the weather seemed gloomy and my stomach was already growling with hunger. The war had made everything in the country expensive and I was finding it difficult to earn a few pennies.

 It was quite cold and I checked my pocket watch. It showed 8 am. One would say it was rather quite odd for an orphan like me to own a pocket watch. But that was the only thing my mother left me before she discarded her mortal coil. On the rear of the watch was engraved the initials R.W. It was a gold plated watch with a silver chain. It apparently belonged to my father who I had never seen. My mother had never married and an illegitimate affair resulted in my birth. Even on her death bed, she did not disclose anything to me. So I remained a bastard. One day I hoped to find the owner of the pocket watch. I would never sell it, even if I had to die of poverty.

"Young lad, are you going to stare at your fancy watch all day or even bother shining my shoes" came the voice. I looked up to see a well dressed gentleman in his thirties holding a newspaper staring at me waiting for a reply. "Yes, Yes, please sir" I stammered, "Please sit sir", motioning him to sit on the high chair. His face was very familiar and I was staring at him with wide eyes. He took a seat and started to read his paper. I started to polish his shoe.

"The Germans are mad, they may bomb London anytime" he said, without taking the paper off. "Fear not young lad, you are not going to die yet" he kept talking folding his newspaper now and looking directly at me. "The war is a bad thing sir" I said. "Indeed, it is. How old are you son?", he asked. "Ten years old, sir", I replied. "Tsk Tsk, you must be having a hard time poor lad", he said switching his leg as I was finished with one shoe. "One day I will be rich like you sir." I said, smiling with confidence. "Oh! that is the ambition of every young lad here. But success is not for all, it is for a selected few." he said, almost sadistically. "What do you do sir?", I asked. "Who me?, Oh, I am just a time traveller. I travel back in time to set things right.", he said. I chuckled and got finished with both his shoes.

 "All done sir!", I looked up to see him smiling at me, his face looking even more familiar. "Alright then, keep this 10£ note" he said handing me a big note. I was shocked. "But, sir, it just cost you a penny, I don't have change for such a big amount, I am sorry sir.", I said hoping he had some spare pennies in his pocket. I was afraid he would walk away without paying me anything. A lot of customers did that and I would just stand there helpless. "Oh, keep it. It's for you boy. Your life is about to change with what I just gave you.", he laughed, more sadistically this time. "But sir, I cannot accept this, it is too much" I replied, I had never touched a 10£ note in my life until then, and my hands were trembling already. "Boy, don't argue with me, I have places to go" as he said this, he took out his pocket watch to check the time and I stood there watching as if hypnotised. It looked exactly like mine, silver chain and the watch itself gold plated. On the rear were the initials R.W. "Use that money wisely, it is your bridge to your future. See you soon.", he winked, patted my back and walked away.

I just stood there holding the money. Could it have been a replica, or someone else had the same pocket watch that looked like mine. But it was way too similar. Then it struck me. The familiar face. It was mine. An older version of my face. I tried to find the man again. But he had disappeared among the crowd.