a frozen trance....

The off-white curtains that was supposed to shield the room from the budding rays of dawn, was failing miserably to do so. My reluctant eyes were not spared from the sprawling of the early bright and were forced to open themselves to the new day. Waking up in a strange aura is never something that we are pleased about. No matter how warm and cushy your bed is or how spotless your first scene is, one never chooses to rise in a place that’s unfamiliar. So this was not my pick, but it went with the rule. It was quite an information for me, that we still have rules that cannot be framed or altered with one’s might and smartness.

 And about my new home, I know nothing more than this scene around me, a well-kept room, painted all white, and with milky toned see-through curtains covering the large windows on the sides. My past-fed brain was trying to enlighten me with a couple of probable names for this new world. But I’m afraid that I had lost the trust for my past and the slices of intelligence that I gathered over its span. Events like this, which have permanent impacts on us, tend to do this; it divides your life into a senseless past and a clueless future. I guess, I’m in a similar locus here, a past sans any significance and a future clouded by uncertainties, both divided by the loopy juncture called death. All I carry from my earthly past is a word to call myself. Ya..i am still called by that same old name.

In contrast to my prior beliefs, it was never the end but a catastrophic bend. The death, it was always pictured as a point of conclusion of our existence and I never imagined it would pan out this way. What I went through was a sort of irreversible mutation in the way and the world I lived. A kind of transplantation, I was snatched off alone, from the soil I thrived and loved, where I had my own circles of loved ones and comforts, which was woven over my spell there. All went ignored as I was picked alone for this revamp venture.

We used to call it hell and heaven, the two mythical spheres which were designed for our post expired breathing. As I strolled my way out to the tidy ordered pavements, not a single familiar face was found around. I think there are more worlds, in fact numerous of them. The lane ran long, without curves or bends, surprisingly unbroken like the trails of some dart. I kept drifting forward with my loose steps and my nomadic glares kept swinging around aimlessly. It all looked the same, the wooden buildings, the plants, the parks everything of it. All was so perfectly alike and plain. Combos of perfect flavors are always dead cold as a lump of some metallic amalgam. It’s the crafty touch of imperfections that gives life to any mass; let it be chemical, biological or even artistic. Men like me moved like snails, as there were no alarm bells or deadlines to beat. Every lip had a smile painted over it. I don’t know if they call it so here, but it looked very similar to the gesture what we call “smile”. I guess smile feels like one, only if it happens rarely, the ones that I see here resembles more like a face painting done by a terrible artist.

I saw him sitting idle on a park bench. Another dead man like me, but he looks more aged and the calmness in his face tells that he’s not that new to this world. His long snowy beard merges well with his skin tone and so were his brownish eyes. I always believed that people who are really happy at inside can radiate it around and thus make it contagious. I was feeling something similar with this strange oldie and I slowly walked to him and took my place at the other extreme of the same bench.It didn't took much long before he started the conversation, with a greeting clubbed with a very warm smile.

“so..How’s your first day going??..Happy with the heaven??" That was his conversation starter.

I replied it with another question “So, is this the heaven??”

He responded with a serious face “Not really, I just used a name which is familiar to you”

I joined him for the short burst of laughter that followed that statement and then I continued 

“actually, I don’t see anything special here, anything that can makes us happy..i see nothing more than a well ordered place…and obviously I’m not anywhere near happiness”

He nodded his hairy scalp as if he understood everything of my words and what it actually meant. Then came his part

“I understand..so tell me..what all you need to make yourselves feel better…things that made you happy in your earthly past can easily be made available here..it won’t be a big issue”

His words triggered a kind of fizz that made me instantly start with the try to make my tally of needs. It didn't take much long to notice that I’m failing to even start the list. All I can have is the things I processed and enjoyed, but not the happiness that was linked to it. Actually the source of happiness was something else, not those materialistic holdings. It wasn't the car, but the ones I drove with; it wasn't the home, but the family I lived with; it wasn't the pool or the ground, but the mates I played with; it wasn't the film or the show; but the friends I laughed with. I looked into his bright brownish eyes and remained silent.

“It wasn't the things, but togetherness!! That’s all what made me smile there” it was more sort of a hush to myself, but he took over from where my words ceased.

“Because, that was the whole point of life, togetherness”!! He still had that smile as he completed that line.

“But then why death picks us alone, tearing us apart from all that we had. If it was the end, then it was fine. But in this case, we are left to live a different life in strange world, all alone. Does that make any sense?” I questioned the system, like a rebel.

He slowly picked himself on his feet in a pace that was engineered by his age. And before his fragile steps starts it strides he replied me with his gaze paved aimlessly to the cloudy sky.

“One should learn to rub out the happiness from within, and that’s the whole point of this event called death”

I kept staring at him, as he was slowly melting out of sight. Everything seems to wait in a killing stillness and his final words kept reverberating in my ears. If togetherness was the theme of my past, bliss of being alone is the one to serve my future, the next page of life. Who knows, I will have another death and another transplantation and what if this is an unending story. I don’t know..I really don’t know.

The alarm kept shrilling and it took some time for me to respond to it. My arms made its way out of the warmth of the blanket to stop its wake up scream. I slowly opened my eyes to a very familiar air; my bed, my room. And that very familiar feminine voice greeted me with a question

“Good morning kid, so what was your dream for today?”

I smiled and shook my head, and then replied.

” no honey, I didn't had one today, it was not a dream, but a mad trance…a frozen one”