To(o) Lead Or Not To(o) Bea

Tapping, with his broken and chewed-nailed-fingers, his book on Real Analysis, to the tune that played on his emerald green walkman, he wondered what the song was. ‘Wasting My Hate’-said the white, glowing texts on the otherwise blank screen, as he pressed its button. It flashed if he wanted it to and it blacked out, when he wanted it to. But the tune was always there, and it was always going to be. He had known, all along, how it was going to be, and no it wasn’t some voice inside which had told him so. Everyone, who knew, had said so, or rather meant it, even if they didn’t say it. And, they hadn’t stopped. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? ‘coz if it was, it was…, well it didn’t matter whether it was or not. What mattered is the TUNE to STOP, to stop playing, whenever all the other songs were muted by him for some peace, dear peace. He understood why he always needed his music to always remain ON. The best thing was, he knew it now, or he felt he knew.

His friend had said. Or wait, wasn’t it him, who’d started it? Whatever…it didn’t matter anyway, it always used to crop up -->well at those times he could actually be able to control the music, but could never turn it off though, he hadn’t probably tried it at all. Did he ever try to understand it? Probably, he’d gotten so used to it, always playing in the back, never off, never gone, but never comprehensible too. But, this time his friend had actually suggested something he knew, yet didn’t realize --> discourse. Now, he remembered it --> it wasn’t even in the conversation. He’d been, as usual, complaining, that he didn’t have a story, not anymore (knowing that his life was already one.) Aah! That was when he’d suggested it.

So close, no matter how far.

Couldn’t be that much from the heart

[Track changed due to misplaced finger]

Welcome to where time stands still, no one leaves, no one will..

Dreamless every night, I see my freedom in my eyes

Sleep my friend and you’ll see the dream is my reality.

They keep me locked up in this cage

Sanitarium-leave me there, just leave me alone.

“Write about her.”

“Who her?” knowing, but denying, yet again.

“You know who”, he smirked, “your hate-waste-Bea.”

There she was, she’d cropped up again. It was no different, or wait; hey! the music I couldn’t lower the volume or control whatever I previously could. Shit! Where was the remote, where was the knob? I knew it was different this time. I realized it then.

The music had become, in my ignorant insanity and its continuity, so a part of my life that I didn’t even notice it. No, it wasn’t good. It never had been, anyway, and it was worse now. I realized when the current noise levels would come down (which they sure will someday, if not soon), it would be so freaking loud that it would consume me in its vibrations. I had been wrong all along to have allowed it to stay, only thinking that it would go away. But, it hadn’t. Rather, it had grown extra tentacles, with more powerful suckers. I had to write, she had to bleed away; from my pen, from my brain, like the ink which had dyed the skin, inside of the nails, blue, but was out of the pen and could be simply washed away now. But, would she allow it? He hoped she would. And, he?

At least, now he knew what to do- his friend had told him and he knew it this time, his friend was right. He would take the path of discourse to his salvation, his peace, dear peace, away from that dangerous music.

[The track had changed yet again]

Am I evil? Yes, I am.

He changed track once again

Bad! Bad!

Come clean, baby what’s up, tell all, and spill the beans

Bring it on, break the seal.

Bad seed, bad seed…

It stared at him at his face-how much he tried now, the music was growing louder now and the white texts were glowing brighter and starting to burn.

Choking on the bad seed…

Then he knew the time had come, to come clean, to wash away the sins, the hate. With his blood, if need be.

And, so he took up his quill and the story came out.

[How sweet are you?, how sweet does it get.

Sucking on a quill, doesn’t get sugar into it.]