the wiring theory...

Intoxicated we were!! The two pairs of eyes, staring on to nothing and we sat there with our legs hanging down the cliff. The few centimeters that existed between us seemed like light years, as there was some unique serenity of isolation that ballooned around us .The looming shades of mist went on with its great vanishing act. The winey horizon, the grassy hills and even those distant puny cottages, all went engulfed in that hawkish rage of predation. Soon all was gone, it was misty whiteness everywhere, and we stayed there like abandoned leftovers, us and the two beer cans in between, the only odd shades; the rest of the page looked annoyingly similar.

 As usual, she made it sure that, we were in contact physically, a very strange yet a cool habit. Whenever we ended up in these long spans of silence and thoughts, she made that purposeful effort to stay touched physically, it can be with the arms or feet or even the finger tips. Today it was her feet, and I could feel its warmth brushing against mine. I asked her about this very uncommon habit, the act of  induced skin graze, something that she does without fail before taking off alone on the wings of aimless ponder.

“WIRING”!! Her say on my ask circled around this single word. The answer was a whole new ideology and it went like this.

“I call it wiring. Everything…everything in this world is supposed to stay connected or wired. That fallen leaf… the mist surrounding us… this beer can… you.. me.. all are nodes of some endless network. Just think, we all are and will be a part of many stories at the same time. That’s how it’s designed, the way the world spins. Placing ourselves in tales that are unknown to us, in roles that are too strange and in scenes that we never imagined, all goes through a mystic pattern. There’s some invisible line that darts through all of us, something that runs this show, the stage entry and exit goes so smooth that even the artists are left clueless. Atheist, they call it as “COINCIDENCE” and for the blind rival cult, it’s “DESTINY”, something that they like to nail under their baseless divine doctrine. And crazy people like me, coin different phrases to address the same, and my choice is “wiring”. So this habit, it serves as a sort of souvenir to my theory.”

Her long philosophical oration was followed by a short halt of silence, and I was still toiling hard to chew down her new theory. She followed it up with a line to help with my try. “I think an example would make it easier for you, look to your right, and here I’m!!”

Yes!, there she was, and I think nothing can define “THE WIRING THEORY” in a better way than the sight of her sitting next to me at a cliff end on this misty crimson dusk. It took us a very long road to be here, like this.

Her pink lips had trail lines of bloody scars and so was the case with almost every part of her body. The eyes seemed like broken marbles sunk into the dark ring that surrounded it. A wilted body, half dead holding a soul, which was dead and staled to ruins, that was her, in a sky blue gown, on a hospital bed. And there, I saw her for the first time.

Some eyes went blind at her smile, her dreams and her soul. She appeared nothing more than an elegant sculpture in flesh and bones. A few moments of animalistic fleshly desire of the most barbaric gender that have ever walked on this planet and she was reduced to a mere sensual blend of dents and bulges. All he saw was her curves but not the spirit that succumbed off to his masculine desires. Being simpler and plain with the words, we address her with a very familiar term  “A VICTIM”, to be more specific "a rape victim".

It took a long way for her to be this smiling girl again, but I should say I admire the way she brought herself back on feet. Against the expectations of many, she never tried to pick up the broken bits from her lost possessions, but curtained her past and trained herself to smile for the future. I still remember the comment she made when someone asked about how she felt about that incident, and her smart reply “It was like a wrestling match with a trained hulk, and me, the dancer accidentally stepped into the ring, and he won hands down..simple as that” and a confident smile followed. And that was the new her.

 She was so gracefully placed into my life and the way it took off after that was literally spectral. Suddenly every single bad thing that happened before appeared to make sense. Someone who sprung up from the wildest nook started to be that right spice which was missing in my blend. I have more than enough reasons to believe in the wiring theory, and I am not that mean to sum up all this magic to a single word “coincidence”. It was all wired and well timed.

The dusk was slowly shedding its colors and darkness kept growing in its stature and so was the coldness around. The lone flames of warmth that I felt were her little feet stroking against mine. The night was showing off its might, wiping out everything that existed there, unknowingly playing its role in our story. All remained wired, me..her..the night… everything of it.