Smokes & Strings – Boulevard of Broken Art
Good Morning Planet. My name is Nik. I think, I live and I write. Among all three, I like writing more.
This story is about three artists. The first being – Me, of course. I have to be in the story. After all, the story is, where, I am! My father never watched TV. I am the inquisitive kind. I wanted to ask him, “Why didn’t you enjoy television, like the million others who indulge in the magnificent human insight, offered by the men and women inside that glowing tube?”
I wrote him a letter from prison. Well, calling my place of captivity, prison, would be lying, technically, ideally. But glad we do not live in an ideal, technical, world. No one needs to play by the rules. There is always a workaround.
So the story is about Me, Aisha and Karen.
Part I – The Escape
Hope you are doing great. I am having a good time, here, in this wonderful institution which takes care of my mental health. I intend to stay here, till the institution which oversees the lawful conduct of people, wishes, me, to. In the end, it’s never about love. Society is about fairness and law. Everyone is a just being. Love is a lost cause.
The things we do, in the name of love. So low..So low!
Now marriages don’t happen. Corporate mergers are the new holy union of souls.
Anyways, I often wonder, here, alone, in darkness, why do you hate television so much? We all have a need of drama in our lives. Where did you find yours?
Do write back. I would wait eagerly!
He woke up. He found himself in a strangely familiar place. If you live, life, on the run, waking up is always a confusing element of your day.
He killed his doctor. He, then, was admitted in a highly sophisticated, corporatized secured, psych ward. But false sense of security does not guarantee safety. Nothing guarantees safety. Everything decays. People, buildings, institutions, marriages; Everything burns!
“On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.”
A little mixture of the right kitchen solvents, few pile of discarded wooden furniture, another humongous pile of dead patient files and an electric malfunctioning switch; Every building burns!
Fire, is the most remarkable invention in the human history. If used properly, fire alone is an answer to all your life problems. It certainly was for Nik. Lighting fire has become, more of a hobby for him. It also serves the need of a recreational activity. Lighting the facility on fire was ‘Step 1‘. He had carefully orchestrated his escape, in his deluded head. The facility had an underground sewage disposal system. He, due to his athletic body structure, could easily get flushed, out, if the water pressure is decent.
Part II – Aisha
I reached the house at a run and rested a while in the lobby to regain my breath. I went in, brushing back my hair with my hand and composing my features. The door was open. As I entered, I heard her voice –
“You are early! What took you so long?“
She looked both sad and profound. I sat down on a stool near her.
“You are alone. I suppose, I should not stay long.”
She choose neither to acknowledge nor answer.
I looked at my watch. She had been away from him for nearly 8 hours. I was wasting time. Time was slipping through my fingers. If I were to make good, I should utilize this chance.
“Every night you generally sit up and cry, do you?” I asked boldly.
“When we are alone and start talking, we argue and quarrel over everything. We don’t agree on most matters, and then he leaves me alone and comes back and we are all right, that’s all.”
“It’s unthinkable that anyone should find it possible to quarrel or argue with you. You look like a smile machine for poor, tortured, souls. You are such a divine creature, even colors cannot paint, your reflection.”
She asked sharply, “What do you mean?”
I explained myself plainly. I was prepared to ruin myself today if need be, but I was going to talk and tell her. If she wanted to kick me out, she could do it after listening to me. I spoke my mind. Somehow, whenever we speak, time froze. Time became as slow as a tree falling in the forest.
Aisha lives at the Vista Regency, which is nothing but brown bricks held together with sleaze, where all the mattresses are sealed inside slippery plastic covers, so many people go there to die. You sit on any bed the wrong way, and you and the sheets and blanket slide right to the floor.
“Why did you marry at all?” I asked recklessly.
She remained moody and said, “I don’t know. It just happened. I guess, LOVE.”
to be continued….as the show must go on….. Have a lovely day ahead!