Storyline


It is my debut English novel based on existentialism. Salil loves a shadow which into many characters reveals secrets of life. Aalya his neighbor is doing research in English literature. Her guide Seema is a childless lesbian. Paul, husband of Seema is a drama director, I am the protagonist, who coins philosophies for day to day events and my wife Sulekha is the second protagonist who makes coincidences happen with her artful manipulations. Read to learn what happens when....





Monday, January 7, 2013

Life is absurd. so is death


I was walking through a park now. It was clean and without traffic pollution. The bench under jacaranda tree, where I often sit and contemplate is unoccupied. Some children were playing. On Sundays the park is monopolized by children whole day. The bench is at isolated corner of the park surrounded by many flowering trees. There was a violet carpet of jacaranda flowers on the ground. I could catch my breath here. Except some voices of children in the distance the park was totally silent. Slowly these voices also become part of silence and I am at peace. The anxiety of Aalya's marriage is over. She has her own fate which I don't control. The boy would search her, or she him. Once she is gone I will have no purpose in life. May be I can spend time taking care of my wife. What is the vacuum I fill in this world that will remain, if I die now, on this bench. I lie down on the bench and pretend dead. I could listen to my own heart beat. A dead man with heart beat. May be my heart is pumping mechanism, and there is no blood to pump. Few flowers had fallen on me. Great funeral. Nature is also ready to bid me farewell. I felt as if I have filled some vacuum in nature. Some flowers float in the air change direction and fall on me, others coming at me go stray and fall on the ground.
A flock of birds settled on the tree of jacaranda and sung a chorus. My eyes are closed; there is no movement in my body. Birds are not scared of me. One sits on my shoes, I can feel her beak searching for food in the crevices of my old shoes. Wherever I will be after death, I am sure there will be no bird searching for food sitting over me. There is an urge to shake a leg. I control and remain motionless. The bird flies away after some vain efforts. Next time I will remember to put some grains in the crevices of my shoes. A dead man has no right to disappoint anybody.

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