Short Story: Drive
Sunday, August 02, 2009
There's something to be said about being a male nurse in a hospital. You can pretty much give up on ever hoping to be taken seriously again. I'm probably working against myself here by engraving this stereotype deeper by saying it goes against tradition. But it DOES go against tradition, and I'm sort of stuck here in the middle of it all.
You know, you're probably right, I don't have any bloody ambition, and I'm not gonna 'make something out of my life' anytime soon (Thanks dad!). Still, I think I'm pretty content right now... Walking out the hospital's main doors on the wrong side of midnight, just having punched out another 8 hours in hell. This hospital can really get me down sometimes, and you'd be lucky to survive a day of my life, but hey, you've got the time to be reading this, so I'm guessing you're a lot luckier than that right? Still, Ryan-Schroeder General Hospital, Hyderabad, India. You'd imagine it had some prestige. Well, it doesn't.
So yeah, the bleak end of another day of my life so full of suck. I sometimes wonder why I'm here, doing what I'm doing. I know it's definitely not something quite as diving as 'helping people', or any really good reason that I'll be able to tell my relatives about the next time I see them at one of those infamous family get-togethers where everybody can only talk about MBAs and the US of A, yes sir! And then they turn their eyes on me and I think it actually pains them to ask me what I've been doing. It's comical how they still frown when rolling the word 'Nurse' off of their tongues. And Nursing school is not easy, let me tell you.
I guess life just happens. And there I was not quite sure what I wanted to do with my life, and one thing led to another, with me not giving a shit about where I was going, and here I am, caught up in my own indifference. Still not entirely sure what the hell I want to be doing with my life.
"Hey Rahul!", I hear someone shout, breaking me reverie and I feel the beginnings of a headache. I feel a hand pull on my shoulder, turning me around, and I succumb to the pressure. I can smell papaya shampoo and feel dark hair against my face. "You look horrible", she says.
I cough. This is my ex-girlfriend. Apparently this break up isn't killing her at all, her enthusiasm about it is practically suffocating. Which is funny, because I broke up with her. Sometimes I don't see why I did it (that's sometimes, if you catch my drift), and then she talks, and I know I can't stand it. Fuck perky people, they can all go boil their heads. There's definitely such a thing as too happy.
"Thanks Nisha, appreciated, gotta get home, bye.", I mumble this very quick, quickness can get me out of another very long irritating conversation that I certainly don't need today, hell, don't need any time this year actually. I won't wait to see her pout at me. I walk down the wheelchair slope of the hospital now, and I can just barely see my car, a sad old second hand Maruti 800. As I get closer to it, I see a gleaming (oh, it can't quite possibly be a brand new, oh my god, oh my god) Porsche.
I'm still drooling at the Porsche as I get into my 800 and slam the door. I sit behind the wheel, still staring, contemplating. And suddenly there's a constricting feeling in my throat, and there's a burning in my eyes that has nothing to do with the dust now rising from the slammed door. And there's bitterness and rage... And I don't want to be feeling this right now, I don't want any part of emotion or feeling spoiling my carefully arranged indifference. 'I'm the pissed off guy in all the movies', I think to myself as I shift the car into reverse and start backing out. I'm halfway out as I slam the brakes...
I don't know what I'm doing, my rage at my insignificance blinds me as I get out of the car, leaving the engine running. There are still stinging tears in my eyes, tears of shame, and then shame at the tears, as I head over to the driver side of the Porsche, and (fuck it) I break the glass with my elbow, bawling sirens going off (in my head?), and I can't see anybody around... everybody at home, safe in their beds (somebody to love)... I'm inside the car (ah yes), and I'm trying to hotwire it, but the engine just won't catch (fuck the movies). For two seconds I feel fear, and my mind starts to take in consequences... But I quickly push fear away, allowing nothing to dampen this exhilaration.
The engine catches, the engine roars. I can feel raw power coursing around me, gentle vibrations, I can feel it coursing through me. Incredibly, I feel my rage abate, and it's replaced with a blanket of calm. My face rearranges to a grim smile as I push the pedal to the floor, tires squealing.
I never had a chance anyway.
Comments, criticism, suggestions welcome.
This is purely fictitious, so you'll forgive me for ignoring the technical difficulties of actually hotwiring a Porsche
Filed under Short Story
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Pain. Guilt. Doubt.
Filed under Think
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Leaving my heart behind is a lot worse than coming home to it. I knew where I was going, and when I was leaving. It's still hard.
Filed under Home
Saturday, June 28, 2008
There's a light in your eyes. I don't know if it's always there, or maybe we never see it, but it's there alright. The light in your eyes, that's everything from a twinkle to a spark, the one that comes dangerously close to being extinguished once you're an adult, and sometimes when you're a child...
Don't forget to keep your eyes full of life, because that's the only measure of your happiness... Shining bright when you were a child, it constantly amazed everyone around you, and anyone holding your gaze for long enough couldn't drop it... The light seemed to educate, enlighten... Maybe it shone so bright because you were an indefatigable optimist, or maybe it was because you just didn't know any better... It's the same thing, for a child, is it not?
But then you grew up, and you learned about life, and you started watching a little less Spongebob and a little more 'media', because suddenly, the media was your viewport to the world... and the Spongebob song was getting irritating anyway... The Age of Innocence came to an end.. and your optimist shrunk as time passed...
Your life became intense, or atleast your head said so. Sex, Drugs and Rock-n-Roll became your staple, except if you were unfortunate, it was Sex, Drugs and Rap Music... You're life started revolving around things that would later seem not quite as important... But the light was still there, sometimes... The people who brought out the light were the people you knew you wanted to have around you for the rest of your life... Surround yourself with plump men like Caesar... But like Caesar, you had the weakness of relating appearances to character... Hey, it was high school!
Then came the real age of the Media.. stepping in after closing off your exits, and drowning you in a constant flood of negativity and call outs about what the hell is wrong with the universe... But it wasn't just the media... It was life... everything in life, from the little things that got you down, to the big things that knocked you off your feet... All you could do was pick up the pieces and hope that the scotch tape would hold... The light started to flicker... But then you found someone... Someone who laid out more kindling and started a fire in your heart... It was pretty obvious this person was important, but this person probably left, and your fire almost dies out... but it survives... and you learn that nothing in life is ever permanent... as much as you want it to be...
But if there's one thing it should have taught you, it was that you can never ever put too much faith in any one person... Because eventually you might be let down, and it might happen even if that person is absolutely angelic... simply because we are human, and the sooner you understand that, the better it is for you (or me)... Stop... step back, take a look at the big picture here to see if you know what I'm really talking about...
If there's one thing it should have taught you, it's that you can never stop moving in life... Much like a first person shooter... when you stop moving, you die... Crisp, clear logic... But I'm not here to preach about life, atleast not this time... Me? It feels like I've been waiting for my life to begin for some time now, and I shouldn't be... Words from an advertisement, so befitting... "Make the most of now"...
But I'm not here to preach... I'm here to tell you to keep that light alive... That light is the magical mixture of energy, hope, dreams, life, love, innocence and wonder. Keep those in mind.. those are the most important part of this post, and the most important part of your life... Protect the light with all you have, because at the end of the day, it is all you have... When all is said and done in the day, it is the light that gets you through to the next phase... It is the light that governs the colours outside your window to the world... It is the light that ignites you...
Filed under Journal
Monday, June 23, 2008
Filed under Memory