Saturday, August 1, 2009

Sixty Minutes

This was the hour that elapsed between 6 am to 7 am (on my birthday) that I shall never, never recover from. It started with The Troublemaker dragging me unceremoniously to the LBS grounds. Barely awake, my poor brain was addled by a string of sweeping statements- discoursed with the air of Aristotle by ofcourse, the Troublemaker.

'We will go back at sharp 7 am.'

'It is so hot.'

'Damn, it sooo very hot.'

'I am hungry.'

Each statement hit me like a vicious bullet. I feebly tried to plug my ears, but the sonic boom was unrelenting. When the killer of the lot- 'Let us take a round of LBS' hit home, I felt my heartbeat shift to a lower gear.

Well, if you would have sent for the doctor then ,I am sure he would have given up the case as one for the 'I'm Still Alive' series. The poignant point was that I would be slipping into my hearse on my very birthday. Agreed -my biographer would have it easier to put down my age as a Perfect Twenty -but it still seemed unfair to me.

I was dying, but I was to come out of it alive

The interesting part comes HERE. . This would be one of those Near-Death experiences for I had slipped into the transient space from where the Dead depart to either heaven or hell.

I had technically zoned out, but I knew I wasn't dead and somehow I wasn't worrying about it anymore. A beautiful song was playing in the background and it was a long time before I snapped away from the music and looked around. I was in the middle of a passage.

It was then that I felt Uplifted. The meaning to Life, The Universe and Everything became clear...the music ebbed away and the passage turned dark even as a blurry symbol appeared at the end of the passage. The suspense rose to a crescendo as the image sharpened and a number glowed in the dark.


Taking cue, a pacy soundtrack began to play and then an imperciptible swish of curtains...and I felt myself thrown out of the passage, hurtling faster and faster, unconscious...

...and then found myself lying on the ground ...I was alive. I had survived.

The Troublemaker insists all this is BULLSHIT and that I had merely fallen down as a result of the kick-in-my-shins she had just administered to me. I maintain my version of the story, feeling a little smug for I, and only I possess the Answer.

P.S.: It was FB that named P.S as The Troublemaker and though not unopposed to the general meaning it suggests, I beg pardon. Besides its ALL a joke.


  1. Firstly, Led Zeppelin isn't a guy. Secondly, happy birthday again, though I've already wished you twice.

  2. @ razek: hmph.
    @ dela: thank you, the third time!

  3. you reminded me of the saturday's mrning nso classes.....and sry 4 not being there yesterday....

  4. Near death experiences have oft been associated with a white light or the end of a tunnel; but '42'? Looks like your hatred for convention proceeds beyond the tangible realms. Great way to kick-start one's 20s though.

  5. @ shipra
    yeah! sat nso classes were most gruesome.
    @ kondy:
    not everyone is given the answer to Life etc etc.
    its just a few select Great Ones!