Monday, April 21, 2003


Scene One - Sounds of laughter busted out of the car. Your sister was sitting next to me, and you were sitting at the back part of the seat. Your teacher was the central figure of our discussion that day. You were miming and copying the way she talks. Every single details of her were within your coverage.
Scene Two - We stopped by at QB and begun to pick some books. We went to the cashier to make the settlements. I then realized that I did not have my purse with me. You were so embarrassed and were trying to put all the blame on somebodyelse.
Scene Three - All the machines were there, next to your grandma. She was lying there helplessly. Her glazing eyes were glued to the ceiling. A thin layer of tears was enveloping them.
A middle-aged lady was lying there next to grandma. She was in coma, solitude in her own world. Her husband was hugging her affectionately with all his love, whereas the other fingers were running through her hair. The lines of weariness and depression were drawn in his face. His lips were trembling, and he was murmuring something that I assumed as a prayer. Drops of white diamonds ran down through his bony cheeks and landed in the wrinkled forehead of the grey haired suffering lady. He wiped the wet forehead with the sleeve of his jacket, as if he was trying to ease her pain and transmitted the pain to himself. The breath of life was stored in the machine, a victory of machine over the existence of human being.

Scene Four - What kind of existence is life after death? Is it some permutation of what we have already experienced in life? Shall we be alone or in a crowd?

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