Tuesday, May 8, 2007


SMACK! He felt the salty floor cold against his bleeding face. The glow burned down on his eyes that were half shut with the pain. The blurs, the chatters, the shouts.. all seem to fade away.

"Bleed. we all bleed. They say you reach a point in your existence, that tells you your time has come. You recollect your life. Your rights and your wrongs. Your days - happy and bad...watch them right before your eyes and it seems to take away the pain... just moments before you take away that pain... and embrace the silence of the dead. and sometimes you think... MAYBE life could have been someother way."

an hour ago.
The night was silent as he made his way down the dusty road. The yellow lit up the roads standing dead where they had been standing for ages. The winds did not cross his path that day. His dry skin was beginning to work up a sweat around those half dark cirles that hid his eyes. He made his way towards the abandoned mill at end of the road. There were cheering sounds, thuds and claps and a dim golden glow sneaking outof the edges of the large wodden door. He closed his eyes as he reached the door, held a while, took a few slow breaths of air as he knew its may not be that easy once he crossed that door. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
It had been 5 years now.

5 years since that night where the end had begun. He had watched his friend. He had watched a fist smack down a victory to the ground as the crowds fell silent. Held his friends bloody, regret filled face in his hands. "tell mom i'm sorry man... im sorry" he frothed in blood through his mouth. DEAD.
The court case. BANKRUPTCY. The true colours of people. BETRAYAL. Bidding goodbye to the bloodring. A broken new beginning. The struggle. The compromises. HOPE. A new relationship. GLORY. A new circle. LIFE.
and the cirlce goes round again. RELATIONSHIPS OF LIES. The end of ignorance. The broken promises. The knowledge of MATERIALISM. The backstabbers. The fairweathers. The rejections. The firing. The drugs. The booze. The smoke. The dead high. The END OF A DREAM. The completion of a circle. The end of those 5 years. The beginning of today.

"The door opened to a blare of cheers, a golden burning glow and the stink of bloody sweat. Cheering blood crazy bastads filled the room with their filth. The richer dogs hid their scrawny eyes behind dark glasses as they laid their bets on the table. The moron in the 'ring' was getting the flame of life kicked right out of his ass in a way he probably never thought was posible."
The crate came crashing across as the defeated slammed through it, falling right at his feet.
He just stood and stared.
"did i pity him? maybe i did. but then maybe i didnt. maybe he had found what he was looking for. we never know what people come to find in places like these."
The 'matchmaker', as they called him, came up to him with a look that recognised him from a long way back. "am i dreaming or am i mad. look who we have here." he just stood and forced a little smile. "please tell me u r gonna fight again man! i miss the money!... oh and your fighting."
The people around had noticed too. Whispers went around the room like it were on fire. There stood in front of them a face most of them had known a long ago. The silence had killed the victory celebrations of the bearded bastard who now jsut stared at him from the 'ring'.

"I'll fight."
"dont know what i myself was looking for. maybe... for an end to the misery that life had come to be. A pain to kill the pain. An end. yeah,... maybe thats all i was looking for... my Baptism by PAIN."

The dark room seemed to be a part of him – cold. Hard. Flickering. And closed. Memories ran past his eyes in the darkness as he wound the straps around his arms. The training days. The fighting days. Strap by strap. The days of friendship. The day his friend died. The pain on his face. Wound around him. His silhouette stood smothered in the dark. Fists clenched for a battle that seemed like one he had wanted to lose for a long, long time. The battle of life.

“It began like just any other fight.”
- “No rounds. No rules. 1 winner” signaling him with his eyes, the matchmaker was ready for his money even as the fight began.
“I was to lose the fight. The matchmaker was to make money. I was to get a percentage.” Knocked fists. 5 steps back. The room full of blood thirsty eyes gleamed with anticipation as they screamed out their lungs for their bets. Money was flying around the golden glow while 2 sweaty bodies stood steady, poised to strike; breathing in puffs, taking in all the air they could for they knew that later on, the same breath of air might just be way too much harder.
- “FIGHT!”
Whhhmmmmmmmmmp! He looked at the grisly fist zip past him as he swerved away. Stumbling a few steps backward. Dodging punch after punch he moved around the circle. Parrying punches. Rallying kicks like kids playing catch. Fooling around the ring. Till it came. CRACK. Right in the ribs. He could feel the aggravated beast knock right into him like a 2 ton bloody dinosaur that was hungry for his ribs. The sounds faded. The crowds blurred. GASP. He pulled in for all the air he could.
Back to his senses in a whipping flash of pain he grabbed at the beasts hair and slapped across his face almost helplessly. Thrashing. Breathing beggar’s morsels of air. Desperate. THUD. The beast’s head banged the floor as he set himself free. And onto his feet as fast as he could.

“I had just tasted the penalty of a mistake. The beast was like a bull-dog, he held on – once in his grasp, there would be no easy way out. But why was I worrying? I somehow… wanted the pain to crush me out.”

The beast shook his head. Turning it with his hands in bursts. The crackling tense muscles freed – he was ready to lash again.
The beast thrashed in. From the corner of his eye he could see the match maker signaling him to put up a little fight to raise the stakes.
The beast was heavy. Movied stong, but slow.

The beast was down. Spuuuuurt! It had been a few flashes. The beast’s blood was sprayed across the golden glowing dust as he leaned over the floor. Aggravated… and now sworn to brutality. Charged into him. Jumping with both legs into his ribs again. Right across the ring and into the crowd!

“Life flashed by like a scratched up old film on a patched up screen. Memories of times that had put a smile to my face. I could see myself running around my father doing the ‘airplane’ at the park at age 5. my family. my first kiss. my bunch of friends. The pranks we played. The campfires. The day i proposed. the day I graduated. The day I was with her. It all came as if life wanted me to see those few ‘happy’ moments before i finally gave up to the silence.”

He could see it fly across the glow as his body gave in to the punishment it was being gifted.

to be continued...


  1. i have deleted the comments and erased the end from my blog because there were many attempts at PLAGIARISM.
    If you want the rights to the story, kindly contact me.
    Be kind enough not to steal.
    its disrespectful.
    pushkaraj Shirke


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