Story: Burning Chaos

She’d been walking, dancing and splashing in the rain for hours, and to her utter delight the rain went on without a halt; sometimes drizzling and at times coming in heavy showers. Rain. She could stand soaking in it for ages and never once feel agitated or cold. The roads were deserted and yet she could here muffled sighs of people sitting in warm blankets talking over a hot cup of their favorite beverage. It often troubled her how ungrateful people can be; after long sought prayers of rain are accepted and the rain is poured down from the grudging grey clouds, hitting the barren land and driving little puffs of dust in the air. And yet those very people who pray for this blessing hide in their homes looking out through a barrier of glass.  Showing no gratitude. How could they not? She could go about rain forever; the way the ground smelled when it rained, the way it pelted her skin, the way the windows fogged up in the rain and the way it made everything look fresh…

A grin was plastered across her face as she splashed in the low floods brought by the heavy rain. Her clothes and hair were soaked in rain and she shuddered every time a cold breeze flowed. Some instinct kept urging her to go inside and change into dry and warmer clothes but she ignored it and instead walked over to the great ground right next to her house. It was not really a ground rather just acres of empty land, in the evenings kids used to gather there and play but it was said to be left for construction of houses. Beyond the vast empty land was the airport. It was quite close and the noise of aircrafts landing and taking off was normal. She laughed when their guests used to light up at this noise and rush to the windows to watch the planes pass.

The ground was flooded by the rain too, and it made her wish they had a swimming pool close by. She started walking to the center of the ground, taking a familiar walking route even in the dark. Her crazy instinct was forming into a bad gut feeling, urging her to go back, regardless she ignored it. unexpectedly and out of nowhere she heard a single cry of a bird, the sound so saddening and piercing that she wanted to turn back towards street-light illuminated road. But the noise above her head made her stop right in her tracks and gaze up at the sky. The noise was one of the harshest thunder, the kind that made your blood drain, and the kind that made you runaway to your mother’s soothing arms, the kind that made you suddenly cold. It rooted her to her spot and then she saw something big, huge and burning come crashing down on the ground right in front of her, with a horrid sound so blaring that it bellowed and sent her several feet away with a gush of extremely hot wind that knocked the air right out of her, as she landed near the road bumping into the ground several times, yet not registering pain. Her eyes locked to the scene before her.

She was stunned as the immense structure crumbled in the fire, too dazed to move, too struck to speak or yell. Her jagged breath soothed after several minutes yet the adrenaline kept pumping.  After numerous tries she got up, her knees were too weak and wobbly to support her. She couldn't even look about her, her eyes could do nothing but register the sight in front of her as she took small shaky steps towards the fire which had spread across the dry grass.  A huge grey cloud of smoke rose from the fire and as she got closer to the blazing aircraft the smoke stung her eyes, nonetheless, she kept moving only to stop a few feet away from the smoldering form.

The bird wailed again, this time more sorrowful and close. She looked up at the sky, now rapidly going grey above her as the smoke rose, and realized it was still raining slowly. All of a sudden the rain didn't seemed so nice, it made the air humid, suffocating and so thick that it made her cough  several times and rub her eyes to clear out her view. She closed the distance between her and the plane and realized it had cracked open and the other part must being lying away. She looked at the mess of ashen faces and burning mass inside, astonished and wanting to gag. And then her eyes took in something different; a tiny hand rose from the clutter of burning flames and she thought she heard a muffled cry, the hand shook slowly a fraction of an inch here, a fraction there and then all too quick the raised fingers went slack. Tiny little hand disappearing as the fire suddenly caught up with a snarl, sending smoke in her eyes and throat. She tumbled a few steps back and heard the bird screech a third time, all grieve and pain. She heard the din of screams and shouts from the road beyond her.

she cast her eyes over the burning chaos one last time then looked up at the sky as the bird went right above her head shrieking one more time, she threw her head back and wailed loudly alongside the bird; a sound of immense pain, grieve and sorrow.

-Momina Latif.

Crazy Ramblings #4

Lately I have been reading a lot of suicide posts on different blogs and hearing such stories. It's mostly them or goodbye posts. Like the other day; I was going through some blogs and most of them had just goodbyes. I wonder if it will ever happen to me.  I hope not. And then there are the suicide posts. I don’t know why people even consider it. They probably consider it because of people.  Whoever had the thought of suicide occur to him or her and who is reading this I want them to know something: nobody is worth it. You'd be sacrificing your life for them but there is a 90% probability that they wouldn’t even care, they'll go ahead with their own lives and probably hurt a few other people like they did you. So it's better just to hang in there, regardless of the hurt and betrayal. It will obviously pain you but sooner or later you will come to terms with yourself. And if it's crucial times that have caused you to think of it, I am sure life hasn’t disappointed you and has done better for you, and in times to come it will do the same. So don’t consider suicide, consider moving on. Smile. Deny your life the hurt and pain. Be strong. Face it. Stand up. You are worth everything good that has ever happened to you, and more. Be happy. Be crazy. I am crazy. I know I am. 

when it happens...

She got up from the bed and stood in front of her full length mirror, she had been crying for days her tears had dried up now but she wept on anyways. She starred mutely at her reflection; pale as paper, eyes all swollen up and blood red, hair all messed up like clothes. She hadn’t bothered eating either; the pain was too much for that. She wanted to break the mirror but then she recalled what she used to say whenever she heard people doing that, 'what do they get out of breaking all their precious stuff?'

Satisfaction, she got the answer. She wouldn’t break something ever, but she went ahead and did it anyways, breaking the mirror to pieces. And it felt way better than sobbing it all out. So she went to the kitchen and took out the old crockery set she was meaning to give to the charity, smashing it seemed so much more reasonable now. One by one she shattered the plates by throwing them against the floor or the wall. Her arm cut twice but she couldn’t care less, she wailed loudly and helplessly the tears floating in her eyes, blurring her vision. Suddenly the air felt so musky and dirty she took her throbbing outside where she somehow crashed right on the main street.

When she woke up all she saw was white; White walls, white sheets, and white floors. It took her a moment to realize that it was a hospital room.  She felt drowsy and far from reality but as soon as the door opened she felt as if every color in the world had exploded turning that white room into heavens. Like a box of paint had been opened and thrown violently around, only it looked beautiful; every color so distinct and bright.

Laying there all rosy and pale she smiled to herself as she looked into the eyes of a complete stranger who looked like an old friend, for she had fallen in love with him at the very first sight. He looked back at her confused and then came over and sat in the chair lying close to the bed.

'Hi, you…um fell in front of my car so I brought you here. They say you are better now, you are! Aren’t you?' he looked at her gently 'I know! The stupor will wear off; it's because of the meds.'

He seemed to have read her mind. He spoke too much, speaking on and asking her questions she couldn’t answer. She used to be that way. She was such. She spoke a lot, too much and at times it would cause her so much trouble. She had a wild take on life, nothing quite like anyone, always speaking her mind, doing things no one else would. Yet, in front of this completely beautiful stranger she couldn’t say a word; she could but she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to scare him off; she just wanted to hear the voice that brought her tranquility all so unexpectedly. Maybe she had lost her voice. When he got up to leave bidding her a good bye she shook her head quickly and held on to his hand without meaning to.

'Don’t worry! Um… I will call someone over to keep company.' He said then he got on to the phone whispering to someone.

He left her with that girl who at first she had mistook to be his girlfriend but who was actually his sister. With her, she found, she could talk and speak freely but as soon as he came back into the view she surely lost her voice. She reacted late due to all the medicines, but she responded by shaking her head, nodding or smiling with him. She could listen to him forever. She noted that he spoke meaningfully between sentences, he'd be talking of something so distinct and somewhere in the middle he'd compliment her or he'd say some words of great inspiration and meaning and she couldn’t react before he'd be too far off telling her something completely different. He opened up his life for her, telling her stories from his past and events that he hoped would take place in the future. He was careful of what he said and did, for him life was all about keeping his closest possessions safe and acquiring all that was within his potential. If he wanted something he'd surely get it.

He was so much unlike her still so appealing. During all these chats she'd sit locked in the trance of his voice, eyes and smile barely registering anything else.  She knew he had heard her talk to his sister, she once saw him standing by the door while she spoke rapidly like she did until she saw him and then it was the colors bursting all over again and her speechlessness. In all her life she hadn’t been as wordless as he made her. So different.

She was finally out of the hospital and he was dropping her home. They were in the car and the rain had left all the windows fogged up yet it didn’t exasperate him, he drove as calmly as ever, whereas, if it had been her she would have been cursing and complaining. Not now though, she quietly drew on the fogged up window while listening to his voice. He was telling her of some recent dealers he had managed to get into a big agreement.

'… I could see all the profit but my fat boss couldn’t. But I get what I know is mine, just like you, so I got them right back and made an agreement with them. And you'll see the profit that will bring us in less time, the economic values will rise and the demand will too…'

She abruptly sat straight in her seat for a minute then pinching herself she looked at him questioningly. And that’s when he looked right back at her, smiled and said

'You are, aren’t you? Mine to keep. Forever' and all the colors exploded all over again.

Momina.

 

the patience and the shame.

He had them three alike

Through the time, he still managed to smile

He wasn’t full of loath just then

But suppressing it had it unfasten.

He held back the insufferable disgust

Sure that people would mind, blight.

Until it was enough that he had,

He sneaked out quietly, determined to put an end

He killed the three and murdered his rage.

His patience returned soon replaced by shame.

- Momina Latif.

I have been reading a couple of articles on how people kill female infants that belong to them. it's so saddening how people do such things and half of them are literal people. it's wrong still it happens take a step to prevent it. daughters are precious, love them don't lose them.

M.