This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 24; the Twenty-Fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for this month is BLACK AND WHITE.
Noor stopped the car in front of a house. The blue sky was engulfed with black, when the darkness upped to the last notch. The cold December wind of Hyderabad made his tress flip across his forehead but they could not make his tired eyes blink even for once. He had a long day. He pulled the edges of his shirt together to stop the bitter wind from abrading his chest. With a trembling hand he tried to rotate the window crank but his fingers would slip, driving a sharp pain through his thumb. He tried again and managed to roll the window up.
As the window inched up, he could feel the screams of his conscious stoop into a distant murmur, and finally into an endless crevice of silence. He could no longer hear the lampooning of his soul.
All that he could hear now, was the beautiful rhythm of his breath, the sonata of his heartbeat and the symphony of his pulse, which he never heard before.
As the wind had stopped, he loosened the grip on his shirt and leaned his head on the window pane and stared endlessly in the dark outside. His warm breath spread tiny droplets on the cold glass which would disappear by the next breath.
As the wind had stopped, he loosened the grip on his shirt and leaned his head on the window pane and stared endlessly in the dark outside. His warm breath spread tiny droplets on the cold glass which would disappear by the next breath.
His colorful life had turned black and white and then grey;
He was now an escaped convict!
He thought about his tangled present, his future, now left in the lurch... his muddled and tired life...the treadmill of work... the suppressed feelings... his mediocre existence... his dreams, which were hoisted on a bier. There was now a stone, where once there was a heart.
The endless plains of silence reminded him of times he thought he never had- Of the warmth of his mother’s lap when he returned after a long day of play...Of the tickling of red velvet mites in his palm who ventured out in his veranda after a brief rain...Of the absolute peace when he bowed down in prostration... Of the long roll down the hill on his by-cycle with friends... Of the animated celebration when he cut a kite on his terrace... Of the deliberate, long, senseless talks with his sister when she massaged his hair with warm oil... Of the inside secrets of his friends which he guarded in his heart... Of the smile he would cover with a book when Samina looked at him from the first bench... Of the softness in his wife’s bosom.
He wanted to be here forever in the company of these peaceful memories, which otherwise would never visit him outside that closed window of his car. He found a new adoration to stay in that moment forever. He wanted to choose happiness…eternal happiness.
In a caprice, he pulled out his pistol which was tugged at the back of his trousers and placed it over his temple with the same ease he kissed his mother’s forehead.
Never before he felt this liberated.
Some moments later, car’s door opened and Samina decked up in fine jewellery and a beautiful dress, came in and sat on the other seat.
“Noor! I just can’t believe you have been sleeping through those valuable minutes when your wife of only eleven days has been getting ready for a party. How unromantic !”, she cribbed and looked around, “and for God’s sake can you please roll down the windows unless you don’t plan to suffocate me?”
Noor looked confused for some time. Then he smiled!
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
