SALTWATER VS. STEEL

this remains the favourite article till date..it was composed in a very sorry state of affairs and i have still not been able to point out where the fury's aimed at..possibly its me myself who was to blame for what transpired during that extremely tumultous period.i guess i should just be thankful that its over...or is it?







Silence…. The only sound in the background was of flies buzzing in the garden and the occasional plop of the dead fruit on the dead leaves from the trees. Its gonna be dawn shortly. I look around me and I see the erstwhile destruction and the oncoming peace.I lay on the couch and feel the power of the incessant drizzle outside, so inconvenient, the stench of drizzling rain blended with the earth manured over and over again with dogshit and birdpoop. I look at the wilting roses near the bed. I smash the crystal vase into the wall immediately obliging the floor with a million shards. I expect the explosion to wake my core from the numbing and delirious slumber that has me pinned down. It doesn’t help. I look at the wall, at the collage of rose petals, dirty water and crimson blood marks. The slumber continues and is not even shaken by the blood dripping in rivulets in between my fingers and the glass shards embedded in them. I let the blood flow on to the carpet and slowly watch as the blood dries on the Persian rug, forming an asymmetrical carcass of some macabre being reminding me of a scab with carcinogenic pus inside.I hear a soft sniff and I turn to face the bed, to face her, my nemesis, finally broken… but yet unscathed…soiled, yet pure. I look at her, not even exchanging a blink and my slumber dissolves. Hatred and disgust pour from those hazel eyes, where I try to find my conquest. Instead, I see the Trojan walls standing tall, without as much as a scarred and bloodied invasion. Her body, though, speaks forth otherwise. She lies there, battered, bruised, torn apart, every private crevice of hers subjected to abject humiliation.I get up from the couch, stepping on some of the shards in the process. Her expressionless eyes have me riveted to the point that I don’t even flinch. I move over to the bed. She recoils, but not in terror, but like a jaguar moving three paces backward to attack. I hold her hand. She shudders but does not resist. I caress her lovely hair and smile at her red nose swollen with bitter tears. I look around the bed and I see the sheets drenched with blood. I see my own bloody footprints on the floor and my bloody outline on the couch.The realization finally sinks in as I feel the cold, grey piece of metal jutting out of my neck. The profuse bleeding finally starts numbing and paralyzing me again. I vomit blood as the five inch iron letter opener tickles my lungs and my heart and lodges itself somewhere in my ribcage. The triumph leaves her eyes as I look into them and smile. I surrender and fall in her lap. I see the eloquent ice castle in her eyes beginning to melt. She wipes my sweat beaded forehead and finally breaks down. The teardrop runs off her cheek and falls on mine as my salvation arrives in a shroud of darkness and envelopes me.