The Lift (A Sci-Fi Story)

The Lift (A Sci-Fi Story)

 

Amidst the symphonic shimmers of the endless evening traffic, a dull set of footsteps, pierced asymmetrically as if on a scout for a particular destination. It was Amar. The dejected soul failed by life all over. Too afraid to think of a future because of a frightening deterring past, Amar had given up. After some thoughtful wandering around the place, he finally gained the so-called ‘courage’ to enter the tall premises of the huge skyscraper. He walked past the reception, hiding his face in nervousness, and stood against the elevator door. A translucent oscillation in his dizzy vision accompanied a strange echo in his ears. Suddenly, all the echoes were halted by the pinging sound of the elevator’s arrival. There was sheer silence now. He waited for the door to open. As soon as it did, everything went back to its normal pace for him. It was the moment of truth, to enter or Not to enter.

The clique around him rushed towards the lift, pushing him ahead. He tried to control his body but was being manhandled with a push here and a shoulder-thrust there. He then gave in to the force and took the voluntary step forward; but while entering, his shoulder banged with some strangely dressed old man exiting the elevator, gazing down his eyes all the while with apparent suspicion. Amar’s nerves had now become more tensed and he stood amongst the crowd perspiring endlessly as the door closed shut. Ignoring it all he tried regaining his breath and also wiped his forehead. The panel showed a cluster of numeric buttons ranging from minus five to sixty-one. Everyone started pressing their pick. Amar resented from making a move due to his anxiety. He restlessly waited for everyone to get down at their respective floors so that he could select his floor number, the last floor, Sixty-One.

Yes, he wanted to reach the end… he wanted to end his pain… he wanted to end his life. As the last person got down on the forty-third floor, he slowly leaned forward to push the button. The lift started climbing again as soon as he did so. This time, to him, it seemed much slower than before. Every time the screen above the panel incremented the floor number, the climb became seemingly slower and slower to him. Amar started becoming more anxious with each floor, with each increment signifying the countdown decrement of his life’s end. When he reached floor fifty, he panicked and de-selected the sixty-first floor followed by pressing the ground-floor-button; but the lift kept climbing. He pressed the zeroth floor again, but, strangely, the sixty-first-floor-button got auto-selected this time. The elevator started speeding up its climb. He started pressing random buttons on the panel in a hurry, yet the lift kept accelerating vertically. Soon, to his horror, the elevator reached floor number sixty-one but didn’t stop. The number on the display kept on increasing further. Amar became afraid. He pressed all the buttons on the panel but the acceleration continued. The speed increasing… seventy-five… ninety… one-twenty… one ninety… three hundred… six hundred… nine hundred… one thousand… fifteen hundred… The elevator lights were fluctuating and the floor was vibrating heavily. The quick climb, getting quicker by the second, was creating immense physical pressure on Amar’s senses. He soon started blacking out. The last thing he could see with his fading vision was the floor number seven two nine two, and the lift door slowly opening.

***

A blinding brightness unveiled a faint shadow. Against it lay Amar, with his evanescent recovering vision. The shadow started coming closer with near-soundless whispers tickling Amar’s ears. A smile broke through the Penumbra with a light giggle. Amar was still lying with an expression of shock. He gained his apparent consciousness and immediately started trying to drag himself towards the shadow, but to no resolve. He wasn’t able to move an inch.

“Madhu… is it you?” he inquired with an elated aura in his expression. The shadow completely uncovered itself to reveal a woman. He observed carefully to find that her little finger was being held by a small girl.

“Saisha… Oh My God… Come here and hug your daddy baby…” Amar said. The girl tried to step forward to reach for Amar, but the hand that she had extended started fading.

“What happened beta?” Amar said. Just after that, an infernal fire engulfed the girl and she started screaming. Amar struggled to go forward to help the girl and called for the woman to do the same. But neither of them could move regardless of their efforts. The ground started shaking as the girl kept screaming in pain. The ground below the girl broke apart as she was submerged inside it. The entire place rubbled and suddenly came to an untoward still. Amar lay with high nerves. He heard a faint whisper again “We are ought to be apart”. The ground turned over and the place fell apart. Amar could barely hear his own voice when his senses shut off. He immediately woke up gasping, this time in a stranger world.

(Trying to regain his breath) “What is th… That dream again…” Amar said in a restless tone. He looked around to find that he was lying on a muddy bed-like structure with his legs buried in the hard mud. He wasn’t able to move around at all. He tried getting up, using all of his strength, but he failed miserably. There was no more strength to put in his efforts. Once again, he was giving up. He tried comprehending as to where he could have been, and he could not see much in the dark. He heard a loud clank from outside and laid down in pursuit of pretending to be still unconscious. He heard a pair of two different footsteps enter and stand beside him, chatting away in some unheard tongue. Then, all of a sudden, another pair of footsteps came inside. Amar tried to take a glance through his semi-closed eyes. It was a huge muscular man with a large fire-torch in his hand. The visibility inside the room had increased. The huge man was followed closely by a small woman. She came in and instantly caught hold of one of the two who had entered the place before, who in turn was also a woman. She caught hold of her hair, said something in her language in an aggressive manner, took a knife out of her back and cut the other woman’s hair lock. She then placed the knife against her throat and seemingly threatened her. The other woman burst into tears and fell on her knees. She tried running out but was intercepted by the muscular man. The woman with the knife now walked closer to Amar, conversing with the huge man simultaneously. She then kept her knife over his exposed chest and raised it above her head. Amar was alarmed and he thus spoke up “Nahi No Nooooooo! Please No!”

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Duality

Duality

At the break of dusk, the streets of Chandni Chowk, Delhi were reverberating with the sounds of celebration. Not of an event, season or festival; but the end of the day. There was something unique and special about this street. Each day ended with the inadvertent tribute to the completion of its monotony, so much so that the celebration had itself become a part of the monotony. Nevertheless, it was not something the residents didn’t look forward to. The mundane had to be done with, each day… everyday. Why? So that they could go back home to their families, have loud discussions with their kin, watch cricket matches in groups with their neighbours, loiter around in the street over tea mostly talking ill about the one who couldn’t come that day, and perhaps, for a change, in the midst of this robotic world… be human.

As the Sun lethargically made its way down the horizon, the excitement persistent in the street seemed to amplify. The vibrating noise of an archaic Scooter’s engine began cutting its way through the jolliness. On it rode a lean man wearing rugged formals, covered in sweat all around. His helmet’s colour had faded, his beard had aged silver and he was carrying a blissful smile on his face as he greeted everyone around him. They all knew him and he knew them all. “Assalamualaikum Azhar Bhai…” (Salaam Brother Azhar), “Aur Azhar Bhai…” (What’s up brother Azhar!), “Namaste Azhar Uncle…”, “Arre Professor Saahab” (Oh! It’s you, Professor Sir). There was utter happiness and warmth in the micro-engagement he was having with them all. He soon reached his home, got down from his scooter and removed his helmet to reveal his grey receding hairline. He picked up the polythene bags kept in the front of the scooter and gave a call to his daughter “Sana. Dickey se samaan nikal do mere haanth full hain” (Sana. Please get the stuff from the dickey since my hands are full). His daughter hurriedly took the packets out and rushed inside, pushing him aside. Azhar’s phone started ringing in his pocket, but his hands were full. As he drifted inside with a small bag in his hand and his helmet in the other, he took off his shoes at the shoe-rack kept in the small courtyard and greeted his wife and mother. He handed the bag to his wife, washed his hand and slowly walked inside the darkness looming in the small guest-hall of his house. He took his phone out to check on his phone and then kept it down on the table. He then turned towards his wife.

“Kya Hua? Bohot jaldibaazi mein lagrhi hai Sana” (What happened? Sana looks in a lot of hurry).

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The Voices of Silence (2020)

Silence has always been looked down upon as an indicator of weakness or retreat. The World today is constantly clamouring and reverberating with an endless noise; and in this noisy world, Silence is not a retreat… it is an advance… it is not a weakness… it is a weapon. When we glance the world from the side-lines as mute spectators, we are inadvertently ignored and forgotten; but soon comes a time to remind the world that in those moments of Silence, we are the ones who have actually seen it all, know it all and are now ready to say it all.

‘The Voices of Silence’ is an initiative to give a platform of unhindered expression to the independent writers and poets of India, and eventually the World. Each and every one is equally entitled to this platform so that one can fearlessly and seamlessly say it all.

Roars of the Immortal (Dedicated to the martyrs of Pulwama)

Roars of the Immortal (Dedicated to the martyrs of Pulwama)

A nation that sleeps serene,
Unburdened by persisting turmoil;
For the burden lies unseen,
On the knights that guard our soil.
.
Serving the country selflessly,
Miles away from their own;
It is seldom that they get to see,
In only dreams they recall their homes.
.
But that dream couldn’t be true,
For the forty-four bravehearts;
Their reunion was yet due,
When their voyage was broken apart.
.
Unarmed, en route their nativity,
Mercilessly drenched in fire;
Their deaths don’t seek your pity,
Don’t need your whims and satire.
.
What they need is our hands united,
Disregarding faith, caste and region;
It is time to stay undivided,
For terror has no religion.
.
It is time to subside our fear,
And turn the defensive page;
To make the global corners hear,
Trebbles of the Indian rage.
.
Let’s face the faces of terror,
With the advocates and the pawns;
It isn’t time to show them a mirror,
It is the advent of a new dawn.
.
Those tyrants full of cowardice,
Let’s grab them by their heads;
And Look straight into their eyes,
And narrate a truth undead-
.
“If you think you can stand tall,
By daring to hurt even one;
Let us make you recall,
Behind him stand a billion.”

Let Them Burn

Let Them Burn

When the axioms were all blue but all be gone.
It was dark in time; Fidelity had yet not formed.

When time’s across a distance all apart;
It is all just wailing.
We fall on the holy earth and depart;
The faith all trailing.

The creator, the forgiver,
We pray thee in our minds.
Absolve us of the gallows,
Galacta has us in binds.

We raise our hands held all too still;
From her shall we learn.
That faith acquaints us not to kill,
Just let them burn!

Time halts for the time when they shall rise;
Krikos, the inferno to nature’s demise.

In flesh Kronos shall ‘guise again;
What’s said is done.
We will fight and we shall bear the pain;
Till we have won.

It’s war, it’s destruction.
It is the eternal wrath.
But we want salvation
Galacta shows us the path.
We raise our hands held all too still;
From her shall we learn,
That faith acquaints us not to kill,
But to let them burn!

Tears of Eternity

Tears of Eternity

Across the valleys of the old,
Lies what the sol clusters may unfold.
Of lost worth of time,
The faint divulgence of prime.
The lost segments shall gather,
All in the name of Her.
The acute rivers shall stand alone,
The blind oceans shall be gone.
When the rain stops to fall
And the sun halts to rise.
The holes in the memory shall be one,
For it has all begun.

The word is now heard.
The song is now sung.
What we see now,
Is what we saw then.
We fall out of the clouds.
We fall out of the sky.
We face our holy fate,
In Her name, we shall cry.

We rise again to the land.
The tears of the sea and sand,
Leads us back to the marvels.
The winds curve and the land freckles.
Kronos shall choose the one who Is able,
For none Is an ace and none Is a rebel.
The end of destiny,
The morrow of fate.
Rise the heroes of the slate.
Forged in the fires of hell,
For the blades, they tell;
A tale of the birth of the one,
Whom fate commands to kill the Krydon.

The skies Are now dark,
The rivers no more blue.
Fate commands no more.
She told us what to do.
Time has now stopped,
For we shall now divide.
We shall not see the dawn till they all die.

Across the valleys of the old,
Lies what the sol clusters may unfold…
The Tears of Eternity.
The Tears of Eternity.

The Mirrors… The Shadows.

The Mirrors… The Shadows.

Science the terminus of knowledge,
within its walls it’s all beheld.
The civility … denied… on the edge!!
The tears that cry what we felt.
Their time is our enemy,
ours is just a leap,
and it unfolds for none but villainy.
Here we stand and weep.
They think the earth is changing,
so are all the stars.
“The fires are yet everlasting”
Galacta … to the Universe!
“Why care for nature when we can make our own?”
They ask to the sublimes of stars.

Their lies are their truths.
Their truths are merely weak;
It confluences the mind to a labyrinth;
What to see, what to seek.
Time will oppose itself,
For now, we take a stand;
We call out to our brothers,
“Submerge them in the sea and the sand.”

Submerge their pillars, is what we do,
Submerge their time, is what we say,
Submerge their axioms for they are false,
Submerge the Shadows,
“IT WILL BE DONE.”

Forever Shall it Reign

Forever Shall it Reign

Forever shall it reign,
The majesty of Stillness.
The guidance shall we put to test.
In the deliverance, we may take no rest.
That even the stars gaze and call,
‘What is Stillness?’
That the Universe may gaze and call,
‘What is Stillness?’
But what is Stillness?

The answers they seek they shall never find.
For the answers are instilled by the divine,
Inside of their own existence,
Inside of their own creation.

The answers illuminate yet are not illuminants,
For darkness has Still and Still has light.
The Cycle shall be seen again.
The Cycle of Stillness, that of the Universe.
The light shall be doomed to darkness,
The darkness shall form the eternal Exile.
But the Exile must end.
And the end shall be brought by a new beginning,
A new light.
And this light is not of Stillness,
yet emerges for it.
For the light is the one not seen,
The one not shown.

There is no end for there was no beginning,
The end brought by change.
This is eternal Stillness.
Hidden in the ‘was’, the ‘is’ and the ‘will be’,
The one without an end, without a change,
The majesty of Stillness,
Forever shall it reign.

The End Of The Change

The End Of The Change

They climb atop
The Hills of time,
To see the distant view,
Of clarity sublime.
Of orders, reborn.
And civilisations asunder,
With dreams fickle as husks of corn.

“The foes of Kronos
Shall perish with him,
Replaced by sweet Stillness
The end of the change.”

A universe ravaged by
Scores of stars,
Will soon depart
In endless gloom,
Like outward Mars.
Galacta of old,
Hear her speak,
Her words engraved in gold.

“The foes of Kronos
Shall perish with him,
Replaced by sweet Stillness
The end of the change.”

“Await, in the world forgone”
Says she who knows;
“Awake, to the crisp of dawn”
In the starless night of late.
To entropy, we shall pray,
May he deliver us from our fate.

“The foes of Kronos
Shall perish with him,
Replaced by sweet Stillness
The end is the change.”

Freckles of Love

Freckles of Love

Another morning came by,
My friends loitering around.
Faked the perfect sleep,
Interrupted by their sound.
Couldn’t dare to nap.
Fear the dreams, I always will.
‘Look in my dreams and you shall find,
Freckles of Love, Still.’
.
Confused at work thereafter,
Mixing up in directions.
I want to tell their laughter,
It is not the brain that malfunctions.
Enraged when they called a shrink,
Got me that depression pill.
‘Look in my brain and you shall find,
Freckles of Love, Still.’
.
My vision’s sometimes distracted,
I look to the ceiling and the walls.
Snapped back by waving hands,
Or sometimes texts or calls.
A diverted attention gets rage,
Cursed in voices so darn shrill.
‘Look in my eyes and you shall find,
Freckles of Love, Still.’
.
A heart within my chest
Pains more with every beat.
How can something hurt so much,
Protected by that thick sheet?
My palm frequently clutches my chest,
Traversing my spine, a chill.
It is not a hole that can end me,
It is worse than what can kill.
Look in my heart, and you shall find
Freckles of love, still.
.
It was weak to start with,
It was always going downhill.
‘My ‘love’ was never mine’,
That’ll be the only phrase in my will.
But even then, if you don’t believe,
If you have blanks to fill…
Just look in my ashes… And you shall find,
Freckles of Love, Still…