Quick Tale #2
Near Death
He lay there, prone and exposed. Strange noises, eerily similar to rats gnawing at old leather, in his head. The pain. The mind numbing, searing pain. The ignominy of lying helpless. The hot orb of light burning above. He lay there. Prone, unable to move, unable to think, not wanting anything except for the pain to end. For it all to end.
And then the dentist said “You’re done”
It’s alive
Just a quick note to let you know that the Chicken Rules blog is alive, and well. Check it out
Truth be told
Sex is like air. It ain’t important till you aren’t getting any.
~An anonymous proverb.
Honorary Indian
Q: When did Mr. Glenn Reynolds become Indian?
A: When he was listed on BlogStreet India, of course.
Musing
Can somebody tell me how humans went from sex as a tool of procreation to sex as an all pervasive, all conquering, all in all?
Untitled
Thanks you all, for the care and concern.
Death is not something new to me, or my family. But no matter how experienced we are in it, each new one brings with it fresh stabs of pain and worry. Especially one as as tragic and unnecessary as this.
My family, like most tamil-brahman family are extremely religious, and such times, their faith is sorely tested. This is where being atheist as I am comes of help. I have a much smaller distance to scale in accepting that if a god does exist, he/she wouldn’t be so cruel as to ordain such a ghastly execution.
When silence is neither golden, nor comfortable
Statistics are just statistics till they hit close to home. Statistics say that every day, there’s one fatal accident on the Chennai Bangalore highway. Well, that statistic failed to have any impact till one of our own was affected.
A brother-in-law, very close to us, died of a tragic road accident on the way from Bangalore last Sunday. And then you realise that life is just too fragile. Life has this amazing tendency to stare you fully at the face, and you don’t recognize it, till it disappears.
What does one tell his wife, my cousin? What does one tell his little girl, all of 2 years old? What does one even tell oneself? That it is OK when somebody dies, cause there are others alive? That very soon, the one who dies will be a very happy memory, so don’t cry? How does one even face the people who have lost the most?
About
Chandrachoodan Gopalakrishnan is a copywriter, photographer and goofball from Chennai. He is also an archaeologist, historian and a city lover. He is currently a documentary film-maker and desk-monkey for a film production house.
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