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The Daily Commute

It’s 2 am. I have to get up at 5 to go to my mundane job yet here I am rumbling about it to strangers. What to do? It’s one of those nights where my thought train is off the rails and to slow them down, I have to enter them into this obelisk with black mirror. I think that last cup of coffee at 12 is to blame for this insomniacal banter.

What the heck was I thinking, “Coffee” before bed?

But perhaps it’s the early onset of summer that’s more to blame. I so loathe this godforsaken noise machine, my ass of a fan. I am seriously missing the warmth of my blankets and silence of cold nights when I didn’t have to switch on this buzz kill. Ironically as the winter will approach, I will once again find it difficult to sleep without the white noise from it.

Isn’t it funny how we complain about things? Then miss, missing them once we have them.

hmmm…….
Interesting my thoughts and keystrokes are not syncing. As I type, my thoughts keep on bouncing off in another direction.

Here I am punching keys, lodging complaint against my fan while my thoughts crunch sleep span numbers. I guess, I better sleep now if I am to have at least 2.5 hours sleep instead of waking-up groggy for a job that I hate to being with. After all, I can always continue this blabber during my commute to the office.

Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz…

5:45 AM and am back, half asleep and already frustrated about the job. But what can we do, after all, money trumps all?

Anyways, I love the city at this time of the day. It’s all so serene. Ruffled only by a soothing cold morning breeze. Car rides at this irksome hours always make me feel like a vagabond.

As the car glides through the glistening streets with yellow tints of sodium lights, the windshield is crisscrossed by streaks of light from the lamp posts, drenching the insides in a rain of light, drawing eerie figurines on the face. The rumble of engine echoes away into the shimmering aura of dawn as the petrichor of morning dew rushes in through the gaps of the window creating a symphony of smell, titillating the soul. The soft transcendental music on the stereo adds flare to the morning mist, melting the ire into the proverbial bliss.

As the car approaches city limits, occasional sights of passers-by measuring the lonely streets and fitness enthusiasts throbbing to the beats give away to the evangelist cycling brigades. And as the car whizzes past this brigade it illuminates their path with the headlights gleaming off of lane reflectors, instigating an impromptu reaction, Let there be light.

When the car hits the bridge over the river, the whistling of the wind hitting the car is suddenly replaced by a rumpling roar as if the wind is knocking on your window to greet you with an exhilarating picturesque view.

A half-moon reflects on the murky river water at the fringes of the cityscape while the orange glow of sodium vapors diffuses with the molten silvery glow bouncing off the fleets of boats floating on the ebbing waters. While you hold your breath to wonder in awe, glorious moonbeams shower the earth in rays that cast out to touch the rocky surface overshadowing a distant and ominous pale orange glow of the vanishing cityscape on the horizon.

Overwhelmed by this glimpse of heaven, when you turn your head to the other window. Construction docks and a giant candle grabs your attention. The distant and muffled clickity-clack of industrial hammers shaping metal into giant engineering marvels irritates your auditory canal while the angry and raging flames like that of the mount Mordor lights up the other end of the bridge.

As soon as the car gets off the bridge; a distinct smell of burning sulfur jostles you into the mortal world from the realm of fairy tales. Once again you start hearing the honking of trucks and trailers overtaking while blindingly bright beams of light irradiate your corneas.

Your car is engulfed by a smog of pollution, looming over the highway acting as a translucent curtain blurring the hard lines of buildings while dancing incandescent dust particles trace path to the sources of light making them dance. [brownian motion, Tyndall effect, corpuscular rays etc. it’s all coming back to me].

This limited visibility and the death wish of random fools trying to cross the dimly lit road against the blinding light from headlights of oncoming traffic always gives an adrenaline rush and awakening your hidden talent as that of a speed racer.

As the car rolled-on to the overpass, the sun began to announce its reign. The bright street signs and billboard rivaling sun at night once again, gave their best shot at outshining him. The bluish black pallet of the night begins to surrender to the violets and reds of the dawn filling the sky and splashing the clouds with endless rays of pink. This pure scattered light and accompanying hues ambitiously began illuminating each crevice of the land.

But as the car descended to the bottom of the overpass, the bright and mesmerizing view inviting to stare, deep into the horizon got obscured only to reappear at the next overpass.

From the top of this overpass, distant and towering industrial complex shines as if it was wearing golden crowns and the green fields preceding its fences radiate bright tints of sun-kissed greens. Brilliant gold and orange hues bleed like fire as the first slither of the sun peek above the skyline, gradually raising to a defined circle on a vibrant backdrop of the pristine waters glittering like liquid gold in the reservoirs below the cooling towers of the power plant.

As the car once again descended to the bottom, the faint chirping of sparrows begin to intermingle with the chorus of industrial sirens when the chauffer squeaked, “Sir, we have arrived.”

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Rumbels of an insomanic : Continued

Oh Man! This fan is driving me crazy. The constant swirling and the accompanied hiss is making me nauseated. As the fan swirls, it jostles the air within the confines of my sanctum sanctorum, generating what can only be defined as micro tornadoes. These tornadoes are agitating the bedsheet and the duvet with waves like that of an ocean. Even the curtains are going berserk, getting swept into the air like the north wind blows the skirts of those crazy Scotsmen. These fuckers are even fluttering my shorts and tees. Creeping me out, with the feeling as if something is crawling under my skin.

It’s hardly even a minute and my brain is already treating this hostile invasion as an irreverent nuisance and begging me to break-in those new noise canceling headphones. Even after, putting these puppies on, this sinner is still humming like a swarm of bumblebees in high noon. Hey! dude [Mr. God], please send those minions of yours to help me refrain from fucking this sinner over.

So, the genius that I am, I did try to look for a fan with silencers but man; are they expensive or what. I am absolutely certain that the inventor of these swirling bastards must have despised humans or was deaf. Why else would he have not made these lunatics silent?

But in part, I am also to be blamed. Why the heck did I choose this medieval torture device and that too with reflecting golden rims on rotor. These abominations reflect like disco balls. I may be exaggerating here, but they sure seem to reflect too much light from that minuscule night lamp on the other end of the room. I bet you even Hades has one of these in his VIP chambers, reserved only for the likes of Hitler. Just, just look at it. Nodding its neck in arrogance as if it is taunting me.

Fan: Pssst….. MATE, don’t make me come down there. 

And stop looking at me with those hateful eyes. 

I have been nothing but good to you. 

You see, I have eyes too.

I know you what you are ranting about me on that phone of yours.

I am not kidding I will come down there.

Any time now… sure…just keep looking at me like that … and anytime now.
Me: Relax, relax you freak. 

Okay, I am looking away now just don’t do anything rad. 

Be cool man.

Be cool.

Wooooha…, that was a close one. Just thinking about the blood bath that it would have created gives me Hibby-Jibbies. This would have surely ruined all my fancy gadgets. Wait…! What fancy gadgets?

Huh, It seems I am more bothered about my gadgets than myself. I must be going cuckoo. I guess, talking to a fan surely does make you go nuts.Dude if that fan falls on you, you are cold turkey.

Meanwhile; That sinister twin was laughing his hearts out. His green eyes were glowing along with a massive grin on his face. So, I confronted him.

Me : Hey!! You, Yes! You, 

Mr. Cool, I am in this tensed situation with your twin brother because of you. 

Why did you bail on me when I need you most. 

What do you think of yourself? That since graduated with the best cooling solutions you are special. 

Well, fuck you too. Mr. AIR CONDITIONER. 

Rumbles of an Insomniac

It’s 4 A.M suddenly you wake up, the room is dark yet lit with a tint of green, from that feeble LED of your air conditioner. The Space is shrouded in serene calmness, breached only by occasional gusts of wind rattling against the window pane. Those wall hanging look irksome from an ominous tint of green. The familiar shapes seem to have morphed into something alien. Occasionally the ceiling is flooded with shades of yellow, lurking out from the top of the curtain, hiding you from the outside world. These yellow streaks paint distorted figurines that crisscross from one corner of the room to the other. Followed by a muffled but, distinct rumble moving away from you.
You close your eyes only to open them again as if taking a mental picture of this surreal moment. Your focus is now affixed to a strange, yet calming rhythmic throbbing. Trying to figure its source you hold your breath only to realize it was you; That Rhythm is your heart. You continue to listen to it, only to be disrupted, when you gasp for your breath.
Again you lie perfectly still gazing into the tints of green on the ceiling like a moth enticed by the flame, contemplating your existential existence. Slowly drifting into the nostalgia of past. Thinking of friends lost, goof-ups in school and screw-ups of college. While the resentments for opportunities lost, drown you into a faded, washed out and muffled flashback. A flashback that overwhelms your subconscious, drenching it with the realization of loss and pain. Your thought train is now off the rails. But, the calmness of night lures you back into the terms with reality, reassuring you of a brighter future. A future of which you are as weary as of the past but still as sure as of the present.
This turmoil of emotions has ignited a strange craving for food. It seems your mind is playing tricks and is somehow misinterpreting emotional void as metabolic need. Now you must jostle that owl off your shoulder and set out on a prowl to hunt for food. You fumble your way across the room into the pitch black hallway making your way to the kitchen off of the mental map. A strange itch accompanied by the butterflies in the stomach, from the anticipation that, you might run into that expensive vase in the hallway or maybe hit your head into a wall or something gains upon you. Finally, you reach the kitchen. Start by raiding the fridge and all the know stashes of motherly love. Only to settle for a stale piece of crap.
Now you are back in your cave, nibbling off that crap whilst fiddling with night lamp making funny shadows on the wall. All the mental commotion, anxiety and nostalgia have subsided. You are now struggling to get that tune out of your head, counting hours of sleep left before you have to wake up and face that torturous world again………zzzzzzzz….zzzzzzz.
Though darkness is evil, the darkness of night is not necessarily the one.
In fact, I think that it’s the darkness of night that wakes the subconscious.
Jostles your fear, giving way to courage.
After all, the millions of years of evolution were to help your ancient self, survive the hostility of night.