The Tale Of The Jungle

Each movement brisk, each look guarded,
Slow and steady, it trudges through.
The eye is swift, the paws are ready,
The night is dark, the sky a scary blue…

A slight rustle of the leaves of the bush
A predator on its usual prowl,
But tonight is going to be different,
The weakling springs to action, and growls.

‘My prey, what cheek? Who dared to dare?
Thou art to die, thy end is near!’
The weakling maintains a profound silence,
No silly movement, it wants to steer.

The predator looks around,
Terror strikes his killer eyes.
As the weakling pounces and dives,
The trees tremble, thunder the skies!

‘Thou kill me tonight, my prey,
Thou art the King, Thou win…’
The predator breathes its last,
Defeated by its weakest twin.

The twin breathes heavy,
It trembles with dread and fear,
Victory it has finally achieved,
It rules the jungle, the mice, the deer…

It raises it head towards the sky,
The moon, the stars, all in reverence seem to bend,
It smiles, wryly, and then weeps,
And mourns at its sibling’s sad end…

The Nobel

I woke up in my lab that morning. I was lying on the floor. I just couldn’t recall what had happened last night, but the whole place was in shambles. Hydrochloric acid was all over the table, as if it were determined to make a sea of itself; and I could smell burnt sulphur around. My face itched with some salt crystals, probably Mohr’s Salt, I smelled pungent and my eyes were watering like they had been subjected to third degree torture. Most of the reagent bottles were on the ground, broken ruthlessly, with their contents already spilled out. The lab was in utter confusion and my memory a total mess. I shook off the crystals from my coat, and wiped my face with my dirty lab coat in a desperate attempt to sort things out. What had happened last night? It almost seemed like a hurricane had struck my peaceful abode.
I dexterously made my way through a completely dismantled laboratory that had been one of the cleanest I’d ever seen, some twenty four hours earlier. It no more looked like my laboratory. It seemed more like an ancient fort, dying a silent death. I shook my head at the unholy thought, and rushed up the messy staircase, that would take me to my house. I nearly slipped twice, because of a gooey mess of all kinds liquids on it. When I finally accomplished the task of reaching my house, I was surprised to discover that no hurricane had struck my place of resting. It seemed much like the place I had seen yesterday morning, before moving down to my lab. But the conclusion puzzled me even more, as I just couldn’t understand how my lab had become a scientist’s nightmare in merely twenty four hours, of which I remembered nothing. Intrigued by the mystery, I walked back to my lab.
I reached my desk hopping and jumping over pink and green colored floor, and looked around for a point from where I could begin cleaning up the mess. I threw one look at my desk, and the sight was too devastating to think of anything else. My pen stand had been wickedly broken into two, and my notepads lay there, as if they were looking for their identity. My rough papers, over which I had toiled the previous week, were all blue with Copper Sulphate solution all over them. I slowly picked them up, and began to squeeze out the liquid amidst the sheets, as I simultaneously threw my beloved pen stand into the dustbin. I caught hold of a rag from the window sill, the only dry object in my whole laboratory, and scrubbed my desk like a professional cleaner. I left my rough notes clipped at the window sill, so they could be dried, and referred to later. Although the paper was stained blue, and the ink had almost washed off, never mind the ‘Waterproof Ink’ sticker on the pen that owned it. I moved on to my reagent shelf, and realized that the rag was no good any more. And it was stinking more than me. I skipped up to my house, and came back with a handful of rags, and set my mind to work I wasn’t really used to.
An hour later I sat on my chair, and glanced around. My day as the sweeper was finally paying off, as my lab looked like mine again. At least it was recognizable. I sat there, panting furiously and tried very hard to recall last night’s catastrophe. I couldn’t remember an atom. I mentally calculated that I couldn’t have caused this chaos myself, unless I had a split personality, or I was clinically insane. Since I couldn’t settle for either, I decided that someone else had been here. I disappointedly realized that I would never really find out. I wasn’t ever good at Sherlock Holmes stuff. Nevertheless, I strained my brain to think of someone who could do such an evil thing, and million names came to my mind. It’s a bad bad world…
Since the time I had announced the topic of my research, I had suddenly acquired a whole new set of enemies, in addition to the already existing million. They all seemed terribly outraged, as if I had stolen away their share of fame and snatched away their Nobel Prize from them. My organisation dismissed my research as a mere fantasy, and refused to pay me for my work. That was my last meeting, as I had resigned that very day. I had offensively argued all through that meeting, trying to prove my point to the clan of idiots sitting in front of me. But they hadn’t paid any heed to any of my assertions. Today, they would be cooling their burning asses.
I smiled divinely as I realized that I had accomplished something the world thought was impossible. An extension to the Theory of Relativity was incredibly intelligent. Even Einstein would be proud. I was finally at par with the man I idolized even when I was in my mother’s womb. My dream of being another Einstein was finally coming true. It was a path breaking discovery in the history of mankind, and I could almost see myself walking down the aisle to receive my Nobel. I made a mental note to begin preparing a speech, as the day wasn’t too far. I recalled the previous day, when I had boisterously announced to my ex-organisation, after years of toil and hard work; that I had finally achieved what they had mocked me for even dreaming. I guffawed at my desk, as their gaping faces came to my mind. Their faces spoke of envy. Envy: because I had arrived at a place, where they could only dream of arriving.
As I played with the pen in my hand, the only undamaged one from the lot, I had a frightening eureka moment. I almost suffered from momentary paralysis, as I shatteringly thought about what had just occurred to me. I nearly died a million deaths in that one second, after which I reached for my locker, the only part of my laboratory that I had forgotten about. The heart of my laboratory.
I ran towards it, like I would be winning an Olympic Medal any minute, and stood in front of it breathless. I opened it in a split second, and shrieked in petrifying horror, as an ugly mouse jumped out of it. As the mouse jumped on my shoulder and leaped to the ground, I stood in bewilderment, staring at the sight unfolding in front of my eyes. My locker was as pink as a rose, a result of it being flooded with Potassium Permanganate. My research manuscript was in pieces, literally, and it spoke of last night’s horrors. A tear trickled down my cheek as I lifted my now-in-torn-state manuscript, and gazed at it with utmost love. For the last five years, I had locked myself up in this two storey house, away from those idiots who doubted my abilities, and toiled day and night for what now lay in my hands, soaked wet in pink water, and torn into a zillion parts. I cradled its remains, as I witnessed my miserable five years going down the drain. The research had been my religion, and I had worshipped it like a true deity, only to be rewarded by being allowed to witness its sad death. I fell to the floor, as my confidence decayed down, with the fastest half life ever. I wept and whined and cried and sobbed, shrieking for everything to be undone. Not even a molecule of hydrogen moved from its place.
I left my religion on the floor and stood up, wanting to be taken away from the lab immediately. I made a depressing decision to forget all about it, and move on. I couldn’t see myself spending another five, or even one year, or even a minute re-doing all my research. I wiped the uncontrollable tears from my eyes, determined to start life anew. I even had thoughts about giving up science altogether. Maybe being a scientist wasn’t all that great after all. I could do gardening, or sell eggs. Anything that didn’t require passion. Passion was synonymous to betrayal now. I turned to close my locker, wishing that I had got a secret lock or something installed; so that whoever had been here wouldn’t have succeeded in his cruel intentions. I sobbed even more when I realized that even if I found out who had done this blasphemy, I wouldn’t be able to retrieve my research from him. He hadn’t stolen it. He had destroyed it. Distraught, I looked at the locker one last time. As I was just about to close it, I saw a tiny brown paper lying in its farther corner. I picked it up disinterestedly, and opened it. What it read, was the cruelest thing I had ever read in any language or book.

‘Maybe being another Einstein isn’t all that easy after all. Einstein would have surely had a lock on his ‘lock’-er. That’s what they are for. Too bad our wannabe Einstein didn’t realize that yet.’

I crushed the note, and wept for my life. I wept for my dead research. I wept for my destructed lab. I wept for my pen stand. I wept for my five years. I wept for making a decision to sell eggs. I wept because I would be following it. I wept for god to see. I wept for myself. I wept for my Nobel.

Maybe the note writer was right.
Maybe there never could be another Einstein.

[Whoever said that science was boring :P I did, before I wrote this. :D]

Unfolded

Part VIII

With a huge lump in my throat,
I turned to him and said,
‘I don’t know why I’m doing this,
But to you, my life I owe.’

‘You are the man, who marred my life,
And the one who made it too,
It’s you, who made an orphan out of me,
But who gave me a new life, too.’

‘I think enough has happened now,
And I needn’t explain any more,
You are all I have of my past.’
With this, I walked out of the door.

I felt glad when I heard his foot steps,
Finally, all questions had their answers,
He patted me on my head,
As we journeyed forth, thirty years…

Completeness came to my life,
Sometimes life carves its own way,
It’s God’s way of telling the world,
That He’s the king, they say…

After a century, I got a father,
Nostalgia was what I felt and breathed,
Each time he would pat me on my head,
Me, closer to my past, he would lead…

It’s as if I’m his penance,
And he’s nurtured me from the roots,
Maybe then, it was his hand,
That guided me through life’s pits, and wounds...

------------------**----------------------

P.S: I'm happy to announce that this series has finally come to an end. Whether you liked t or not, is not my problem :P But I am always ready for comments OR compliments (The latter, ofcourse is a better proposition :D )
Catcha later with something different... :)

Unfolded

Part VII

I scared you to your wits’ end,
I acted violent, mad, insane…
I pulled your hair and slapped you hard,
Thankfully, my sin didn't go in vain.

The next morning, when I returned,
I hoped not to see you there,
And I was the happiest when it happened,
You had gone, no matter where…

My life, now just had one purpose,
To wait for your return…
I gave up everything for just this day,
What life meant, I had to learn.

At times I felt you’d never come back,
And my sins would never be washed away,
But perhaps He has forgiven me,
As you turned up, today.

I needn’t ask for forgiveness,
As now I know, I’m forgiven,
I see a self made human in front of me…
Why should I weep and cry, then?

I shook with fear once again,
As he looked at me intensely,
My life, my existence, I owed to someone,
Someone, who’d also, marred my destiny.

I looked away, thoroughly taken aback,
The harsh truth had left me numb,
A decision, I had to make right now,
To emotional conflicts, I wouldn’t succumb.

P.S: Gosh! Just one more to go... :)

Unfolded

Part V

This time no one pulled my locks,
And I wasn't slapped too,
It was as if he was waiting for me to turn,
While I stood there, with fear, blue…

I turned at last, breathing heavily,
And lifted my eyelids to face my past,
The same eyes, the same face,
And he spoke, at last…

‘I know you hate me, dear…
But the fact that you finally came back,
Tells me that you want to know,
And that night’s mystery you wish to track…’

‘You probably will never forgive me
For what I did to you that night,
But what I see in front of me today,
Tells me, that somehow, I did right.’

With these words, he entered my house,
And I followed him speechlessly,
This was the moment, my life’s mystery
Was unfolding, silently, slowly…

He took me back to my room again,
He picked up the toy gun in his hands,
He looked at me with a sad smile,
And reached for the pockets of his pants.

He handed something to me,
And I looked at him in horror,
He nodded, as though he understood,
And then explained, that night of terror…

P.S : To be continued...

Unfolded

Part IV

I ran as fast as my legs could,
Not once did I look back,
The fear gave me strength to run…
Away from my home, my slum, my shack…

When I finally stopped myself,
I had come a long way from home,
And here, in the city, I carved myself,
From pavements and shops…to a bed of foam…

People were nice, god was finally kind,
I made myself a new person forever,
But deep down, I still yearned to know…
Who turned that day of my life into a terror…?

My steps would want to go to that house,
And my heart would want to follow in line,
But the thought of meeting that man again,
Sent a shudder down my spine…

But thirty years later, I finally conceded,
And gave up everything, and walked…
I was fed up of that ‘why’ in my life,
I wanted answers, doors unlocked…

There wasn't any need to ask for the way,
As everyday, I saw it in my dreams,
And there, I landed in the past,
My eyes didn't shine, my eyes didn't gleam…

The toy gun fell from my hands.
And I came back, eyes moist,
I noticed now, that the slum was empty,
Not a single sound, except mine.

I tried to look for a breathing soul,
Someone who could give me my answers,
And then, I felt a hand on my shoulder,
It was the same hand, the same fingers…

P.S: To be continued...
P.S: Umm...I just discovered, there are 8 (not 6) parts to the poem. I duly apologise for such torture...which by the way, DOES NOT mean I'm not going to post them all.. :P

Unfolded

Part III

A six year old, I must have been,
Unaware of what destiny meant,
How a regular market walk would turn into a disappearance,
Is something, I had never even dreamt.

I touched the broken thing with a shiver,
As I recalled that scary night…
Three days had passed; I was hungry and tired,
And I begged my neighbors for a bite…

I whined and sobbed and cried and wept,
As they drove me away one by one,
I begged from one house to another,
And tried to distract myself with my toy gun.

After long, I felt a hand on my shoulder
I rejoiced; they had come back, returned!
But then, I felt someone pull my locks,
And a huge slap, I earned.

He snatched my toy gun, and held me tight,
He dragged me through the way,
I shrieked with fear and utmost disgust,
As he got me home, and walked away.

Puzzled, I ran after him,
And held him by the hand,
He threw me to one side of my room,
I saw the toy gun, now broken, beside me land…

He latched the door, and went away,
As I sat there nursing my wounded hand,
I knew I couldn’t live here anymore,
His coming back, I couldn’t stand…

I looked around nervously,
And saw the window, open, free…
Not once thinking of what I was doing,
I made my life’s biggest leap…

P.S : To be continued...

Unfolded

Part II

As I tried to open that brown and broken door,
A whiff of smells gathered about me,
The smell of the creeper that grew there long ago,
And the smell of mother-cooked food that I relished with glee…

Cobwebs covered the hinges now,
No more did it seem welcoming enough,
Apprehensively, I pushed it apart,
My home, my house – overcoming nostalgia is tough…

I saw a tiny me over there,
Sitting on the floor and uttering gibberish,
Across me, sat she, my creator…
Listening to me – no matter however childish…

I felt like standing there forever,
But I had come with a purpose here…
I ventured into the house like a stranger,
When I knew its every nook and corner.

My father’s study table still stood there,
And there he was - his bespectacled face…
He called to me, with loving hands,
As I stood there, shocked, amazed…

I blinked my eyes rapidly,
As I reached the final room,
This was what I never wanted to do,
This room, held everything responsible for my gloom…

Bravely, I opened that last door,
Bracing myself for the ultimate breakdown…
It seemed as if I was thirty years back,
When this room was my world, my country, my town…

Everything lay as it is, no tampering whatsoever,
My Barbie doll, my car, my book,
Each thing seemed so completely mine,
Except one thing, which I saw, and shook…


P.S : To be continued...