Monday, June 30, 2008

Maniac

Dedication- to the bestest scrabble player I know! inspiration for me into the realm of SF...

Somewhere at the edge of some galaxy

The alarms sounded. There was frenzy with all the security bots sheltering hither and thither. A space ship lifted off the facility. He was in it and left out a cry. Having been imprisoned for the last 40 years in solitude would have driven any entity mad. But not he…

They were on his tail. He knew what had to be done. He had worked on this plan to the very last detail. He was only one hyper jump away from the third planet from a distant star. He had chosen an oblivious primitive habituated planet. He put his invention to motion. He used his newly acquired ship sensors to sweep the planet. He zoned in on the baby that had the highest probability of survival. As he entered the planet’s atmosphere his invention started to miniaturize everything around him. So much so that when he reached his target he was but the size of a virus that penetrated the baby’s soft neck and embedded itself in the cortical space below the medulla oblongata and leeched onto the human system for nourishment.


Age 10

He stared at the dog with no fear in his eyes. His eyes were blood red and his fore head was throbbing. And then he gave a maniacal laugh. The dog was twice his size and charged at him. He stood his ground.
Let it come towards him. And as it jumped at him jaws open he took a quick sidestep. The dog missed him by inches. But in that the dog had lost its vantage point. He was quickly onto him and in a swift motion started strangling the dog. He laughed and laughed. He derived pleasure in seeing the dog suffocate to death. He saw it struggle. The dog was nothing but an “it” to him. His neck throbbed. it always did when he killed. He walked back into the recesses of darkness.

Age 25

It was all over the papers. Some smart criminal psychologist had pieced together the relation between 75 homicides in the last 10 years in 25 different countries. They had tried to put into effect a pattern but there was none. In that they were stumped. They did not know who the next victim was. In which country would the next corpse turn up? They had no idea. But this was the kind of challenge that the CP (what the criminal psychologist was called among his peers) had been striving for. To put into effect a moral code and show other people how callous they were and how dedicated he was. It was but a farce.
He laughed to himself perversely. But he had learnt to live with the perverseness. He vowed to track the bastard responsible down. His vow was known to all.

Somewhere…. He looked about. The way he killed became more complicated with each kill. He had to. Otherwise there was no pleasure. He was in a crowded airport. He picked his next victim with a smile. A middle aged faggot… that’s what it looked like to him. He went up to it and asked, “ do you have a light mate?” … it did not answer and ignored him. The faggot was also nothing but an “it” to him. He picked a pressure point. In a swift motion he put a pin in the cutinal marxis nerve in the neck. No one saw him do it. Not even the faggot. He stepped aside and watched him fall down. People gathered around the faggot. He stood there and saw the face of the faggot. He was smiling. He was in extreme pleasure. Others closed their eyes. They thought the faggot was having a heart attack. Three minutes of agony later the faggot finally stopped breathing. He still did not walk away. He continued to stare and smile.
And then he walked away.

The CP looked down upon the victim. He knew it was the work of the bastard he was trying to track. And yet again he had left no clues. He had killed the man with a sterilized 0.2 mm needle in a crowded airport. The CP smiled to himself. Everyone makes a mistake he thought and when this bastard made his he was going to be there to nail him. The intrigue of it all drove him insane and yet that’s what he strived on. The CP commanded the team with a flurry of instructions….


Some years later

The leech detached from the cortical space and left the body through the neck….

He looked at the mirror… he took the nearest object a shoe…. The mirror was broken…. He wailed… he cried… his anguish was known to none… all those faces … no more its…. He could not understand it…

He drove up the hill to the highest point. It was dark and yet to him it was too bright for he could see himself. He saw the city lights all round him now that he was up there at the highest precipice. The CP devised what he was suffering from. He was the killer and yet he did not know it till now… his eyes were blood shot. He had used a knife on his hands body chest…. There was dry blood moist blood fresh blood all over him and yet the anguish was much more hurtful than the physical pain. He cried out…. His vow came back to him and for that brief second he smiled… for he had caught the bastard after all… and he jumped ….

The edge of the solar system:

There was maniacal laughter in the space ship. Nobody was looking for him anymore. The ship was back to normal size. He had made his plan work. He had known all along it would work. He laughed again… and again… and again…..

Saturday, June 14, 2008

The Zombie song

So I met a Zombie
in the middle of the night
Driving down highway 54
Which adds up to nine

He had just one thumb
Which was just right
For he was waving asking
For a lift to get
On his way to wherever

I was a bit drunk
So I stopped to pick him up
He got into the car
And gave me a smile
Or so I thought cause
There were no teeth

He said thanks for stopping
No one does that anymore
And so it had taken him a year of walking
And yet he was far from the place he
Wanted to go

Nobody understood him he said
Everybody was afraid of him
Some who saw him
Said he was just a figment of their imagination
And looked away

And others were not so kind
And waved a cross at him
As if he would disappear
And close their eyes in fear
But not one liked him

He was a bit gloomy for
He was the only one of his kind left
Not willing to move on
Stuck in a reality that was not his
And yet he was the one who was scared

Scared of compromise or something
Scared of a lot of things
Scared of moving on and finding
His own kind that he missed
May not be the thing that
His dreams were made of

And all such crap or so I thought
Like I said I was drunk
The details were fuzzy
But the truth was clear
I didn’t know what to say
To cheer him up

A similar situation I am in
I told him so
And smiled at him
Teeth and all

He laughed at the smile
I knew so from the sound
He said I haven't seen someone
Smile and show me their teeth
In the way you just did

He got down a few miles later
I wished him luck as he did me
And a half hour later I wondered
Did that really happen
Or was that the future…

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Cat Stories




This reminded me of The Cat. Thats what I called her. She wasn't allowed inside the house and within a year of finding us she had become a part of all our lives. In my house back in Madras the layout was such that my study room was above the garage and its windows opened onto a balcony. One day when I came to my study room I found the cat sitting on the ironing table by the window which I had forgotten to close. Instinctively I scolded the cat in my loud voice and said " WHat are you doing in here. You know you are not allowed inside the house. Get out!!" and I pointed to the open window. She just looked back at me and gave me a concerned meow..I actually felt her say why the hell are you shouting. I am not going out through the window! I just calmed down. And said softly " Ok.. You know you are not allowed inside here. So follow me out." She got up at once and jumped down, Followed me through the house - two rooms later we were at the front door which I opened and she looked up at me gave me a meow and walked out with dignity.