The Story of Him - III
RS had this bad habit back then as well. He would launch into his extempore of death almost suddenly and then shock all of his friends into imagining their dead selves, twisted, gnarled, and stone-like. Happy souls sitting on the university wall would instantaneously turn into statues listening to RS's hysterical metaphors on death.
RS was dreaming of the old days and of the fact that most of his friends were now dead, divorced or distant and he was infact the only link to several of his old friends - their only connect as they could not bring themselves to talk to each other - he was their convenient sounding board. Sleeping, he could afford a smile.... sleeping, he almost looked god-like with a smile on his dimpled, youthful face. Sleeping, death usually decided to give him a miss.....
The phone rang. RS got up casually, he was not one to mess around his body patterns, he knew getting up suddenly could shock his body into disintegration. He was always careful not to pain his body.... The phone kept on ringing, the caller oblivious to the fact that RS had these unique theories about life that ensured that he cared the least about the human world around him and was only concerned about his interaction with the unreal world.
Waiting long enough for RS to pick up, the caller must have tired for the call got disconnected abruptly. RS went back to his reverie immediately and dozed off. His dreams came back to him, he saw a distant relative on a Ferris wheel, going round and round.......the wheel went on, when at last, his head spun over and the dream came to an end. The phone rang again, the tune ringing like some old song...pulling him back into memories of old... back to the college days when the song was a hot favourite aongst doped out guitar friends - who would hum the tune for days on end...
He finally picked the phone and saw the time in the illuminated screen....... Three in the noon, no lunch and the prospect of facing his forsaken friend who definitely asks for more money....
RS was dreaming of the old days and of the fact that most of his friends were now dead, divorced or distant and he was infact the only link to several of his old friends - their only connect as they could not bring themselves to talk to each other - he was their convenient sounding board. Sleeping, he could afford a smile.... sleeping, he almost looked god-like with a smile on his dimpled, youthful face. Sleeping, death usually decided to give him a miss.....
The phone rang. RS got up casually, he was not one to mess around his body patterns, he knew getting up suddenly could shock his body into disintegration. He was always careful not to pain his body.... The phone kept on ringing, the caller oblivious to the fact that RS had these unique theories about life that ensured that he cared the least about the human world around him and was only concerned about his interaction with the unreal world.
Waiting long enough for RS to pick up, the caller must have tired for the call got disconnected abruptly. RS went back to his reverie immediately and dozed off. His dreams came back to him, he saw a distant relative on a Ferris wheel, going round and round.......the wheel went on, when at last, his head spun over and the dream came to an end. The phone rang again, the tune ringing like some old song...pulling him back into memories of old... back to the college days when the song was a hot favourite aongst doped out guitar friends - who would hum the tune for days on end...
He finally picked the phone and saw the time in the illuminated screen....... Three in the noon, no lunch and the prospect of facing his forsaken friend who definitely asks for more money....
