THEY STILL WALK

THEY STILL WALK

Micro-fiction by Proteem Bhaduri

 

By the time the vaccine reached Indian shores in March 2021, the official death toll attributed to the novel coronavirus stood at 12,459 in the country. Of course, some insisted the actual number was far higher – with many fatalities either unrecorded, or suppressed.

Irrespective, over the course of the next several months, a nationwide campaign to administer the vaccine to its teeming populace was orchestrated successfully, and life in India began limping back to normalcy.

The streets were no longer swathed in eerie emptiness, the sounds of birdsong were no longer the only evidence of life in the vast, urban jungles. There were people on the streets – people with real faces and identities, no longer obscured by motley masks. People who slowly learnt to smile again, to hope again, to mingle again. Families who no longer feared stepping out together, and lovers who no longer feared holding hands in public.

Of course, it took much longer for the shell-shocked economy to recover, for deserted offices to reopen, and for a stunned society to regroup. Stray coughs still sounded like gunshots for a while, but slowly and undeniably, India healed.

Almost. The deepest scar left by the pandemic still remains.

The meandering droves on the outer roads that stretch into the hinterlands of India. Who died a long time ago, but they still walk.

They were called migrants in life, and they remain migrants in the after-life – caught forever between this world and the next. Unwanted in both.

At the height of the pandemic, no one wanted them loose in the cities, yet no one told them how to get back to their villages. So they began to walk.

They walked because they didn’t know what else to do, because no one told them what else they could do.

Some walked a hundred miles, some five hundred. Some died with just a few miles left to go, some with many more, but they all died. Men, women, children, and infants cradled in arms.

They died of exhaustion, of starvation, or some simply because their hearts gave up hope, but they all died. On their feet.

But like an endless procession of vaguely human-shaped withering meat, they still walk. Even though they go nowhere.

Their frayed clothes rustle against their frayed skin. Makeshift masks hang loosely from decaying faces with desperation frozen on them. Missing chunks of flesh have fed hungry animals. Some eyes have been pecked out by birds, some not yet; but they’re all the same gaping holes of nothingness. And feet worn down to alabaster bone continue to shuffle.

They are wispy now, not whole – spectral, fluttering in the wind, shimmering in the sunlight and headlights. Fragmenting when a car passes right through. Only to reassemble instantly. And still walk.

In time, we might get used to seeing them. Not feel afraid anymore. But I don’t think we’ll ever stop feeling guilty.

Falling

FALLING

Proteem Bhaduri

We fell,

Like unseasonal rain,

Like staccato hail,

Like an avalanche of snow

Like angry waves on a hapless shore

Like a runaway meteor,

Like libido on ice

Like heavy sighs,

Like artificial highs,

Like capricious dice,

Like winter’s chill,

Like a junkie’s will

 

We fell,

With no harness,

With no handhold,

With no chute,

With no balancing pole,

With no wings,

With no faith,

With no poise,

With no grace,

With no end in sight,

With no respite

 

We fell,

Inevitably,

Irrevocably,

Irresistibly,

Impulsively,

Impatiently

 

We fell,

Into each other,

We fell,

Together,

We fell.

Forever,

And no fall has ever been better

 

 

 

 

Bronze Winners at Longhand 2017 (The Long Copy advertising competition).

This gallery contains 2 photos.

Hey You (Inspired in part by Pink Floyd)

Hey You

An Ode to Online Trolls

Hey you,

Out there on your own,

So lonely,

Raging on your phone,

Can you hear me?

 

Hey you,

Hurling vicious virtual stones,

And cursing a new-born,

Just to feel like you belong,

I fear for your sanity

 

You come online just to seek offence,

In your head, that’s the only way to say relevant,

Don’t you see you’re addicted to outrage,

It’s what gets you through your empty days

 

Your keypad is your only friend

Helping vile hashtags trend,

To elicit a response from your daily prey,

You’ll go to any extent

Because that’s how you feel important

 

You’ll defend the indefensible.

You’ll justify the reprehensible,

Seeking strength from a faceless legion,

Whose ranks are lonely, bitter, disillusioned, and absent of reason

 

Does it hurt to see someone happy online?

Does it immediately make them an adversary to your kind?

What happened to you, that made sexism, racism, homophobia and bigotry,

Seem like your only way to contribute to society?

 

You twist free speech to meet your ends,

Perpetuating the delusion that it’s a license to abuse and offend,

And when you have no rational responses left (which is almost always),

Then convoluted whataboutery and selective nationalism are your zealous defense

 

Do you even know why you’re always frothing at the mouth?

Do you even have real conviction in all your what abouts?

Or is it just to seek a bizarre validation,

Of your sad inability to indulge in amicable conversation?

 

Hey you,

Out there in the dark,

Relying on vitriol to make your mark,

Can you hear me?

 

Hey you,

What you think is your strength,

Is just your insecurity,

Are you too far gone to see?

 

Hey you,

Let go of the ugliness inside,

Open your eyes,

Take back your humanity

The Maybe Song

Maybe it’s okay,
Maybe we should stay,
And watch the pieces land where they will

Maybe it’s alright,
Maybe we can stop the fight,
And give the scars some time to heal

Maybe you and I are through,
Or maybe we’ll find something new,
In the debris of what we had

And maybe our song was just this long,
Maybe our forevers were always wrong,
Or maybe we can find new lyrics to play,
Sing the song again in a different way,
And maybe we can start again

Maybe we can take a leap of faith,
Maybe we can rise above the hate,
And find the smiles we lost in the fray

Maybe there’s a window in time,
Where we can go back and find
The things we never took for granted,
And promises that weren’t recanted

Maybe there’s room for a second chance
Maybe there’re moves still left in this dance
Maybe it’s not yet time to turn the music off
Turn off the lights and make all the questions stop

And maybe we can find new lyrics to play,
Sing the song again in a different way,
And maybe we can start again

Maybe just for a day,
If we forget everything that got in our way,
And think about what made us start,
When simple words would gladden our hearts

Maybe it’s just a passing rain,
All this bitterness and pain
And maybe we can still find our sun
Go back to when you and I were one

And maybe it’s not too late,
Maybe we just have to wait,
Let all the resentment fall away
And watch our love rise from decay
Let what didn’t kill us leave us stronger ahead

And maybe we can find new lyrics to play,
Sing the song again in a different way,
And maybe we can start again

And maybe hope will always find a way,
To stay

The End of Time – A Gothic Ramble

The End of Time – A Gothic Ramble

I found a hole that took me to the end of time,

It seemed like a long, gravelly road with no beginning or end in sight

Above me there was a placid, unmoving sky, dressed in discolorations of white

Parts of the sky was peeling, like plaster off an aging wall,

Tears in the ether, beyond which lay a glimpse of the dark nothingness surrounding it all

Both a moon and a sun lay suspended in this decaying sky,

The sun a waning yellow, melting and dripping drops of its once-orange warmth

The moon with a diffused glow, a spider-web of cracks leaking its silver shine

The road was flanked by endless seas, blood-red water with shades of green

Still they were, these seas, nary a wave, tide or even ripple to be seen

Upon them floated the gargantuan carcasses of strange creatures that belonged out of time

And even the bloated, rotting husks of elder Gods brutally ousted from their shrines

To the side of the road, lay a mammoth, squirming pile; tall enough to touch the sky

Dark leftover feelings that found no closure in their own lifetime,

There lay hate, anger, rejection, jealousy, bitterness and more

All marooned here, to stew in their own juices, evermore

And in one corner, crouched the mammoth creature known as love,

Toothless, broken of limb, this once fierce, force of nature lay becalmed and tame

For here it was bereft of the hearts it fed on in time, its prey, its fair game

Scattered around it were memories, new and old

Broken, lifeless, growing cold

And here, at the end of time, all was quite

Day stood forever hand in hand with night

And there I lay, with nothing ahead, and no memory of what I left behind

And there I stayed, with never anything new to find

Of Words

Of Words

Words that heal

Words that break

Words that give you a gift

Words that only take

Words that spark love

Words that ignite hate

Words, so complete

Words, woefully inadequate

Words that help us cope

Words that strip away hope

Words that resolve

Words that exacerbate

Words that extol

Words that berate

Words that begin

Words that begin the end

Words that stay with us

Words that transcend

Words that open us up

Words that shut us down

Words that inspire a blush

Words that trigger a frown

Words between you and me

Words between we

Words that show us faces, the eyes cannot see

Words that make

Words that undo

Words that dissemble

Words that are true

Words, with everything to say

Words, sometimes with little to convey

Words, they take no kudos and no blame

Words are just there, for you to play the game

 

 

 

 

Allies in the Aftermath

Allies in the Aftermath

 

We crawled in the darkness,

We were stripped of light

We emerged from the battleground

There was no one left to fight

 

We wore angry scars,

Of intimacy turned to bitterness, and lovers’ wars

Our hearts were ripped ragged

Slashed by betrayal’s knives, jagged

 

Our feelings were battered and bruised

Every inch of us felt used and abused

We lay crippled by the decay of trust,

We breathed; we had survived the end of love, but only just

 

The world still turned, but it felt like it shouldn’t

It insisted we go on living, but we felt like we couldn’t

Though tomorrow seemed impossible, it would still come around

We awaited it inert, while our yesterdays still bore us down

 

Then we saw each other, there were two of us

Both victims of once-forever love now turned to dust

We helped each other up, on unsteady legs

Licked our wounds, gathered up the dregs

 

What we once had was now gone for good

Our worlds had come crashing down, on its pieces we stood

But if it was the same beast that left us torn, seemingly beyond repair

Perhaps we could heal each other, or at least try, should we dare

Broken (nights)

Some nights I feel like I’m smoking a stick of dynamite,

Knocking back mouthfuls of cyanide,

My thoughts walk a tightrope unsteady

My words are suicide bombers, their feet heavy

My memories are tiny needles in the pincushion of my mind

I hear the ghosts of dead desires shuffling behind

My heart throbs like an exploding minefield

Every breath is a labor of Hercules

I see an image of you, me, of us

A fading picture, beginning to rust

Consciousness; a bear-trap waiting to snap

Sanity; a dry autumn leaf that might crack

I look at tomorrow; a gaping, black hole

I close my eyes, watch fractured dreams unfold

I wonder if it’s okay to just freeze

Stop, desist, indefinitely cease

Then I open my eyes; see a tiny sliver of light creep in

Beyond the curtains, there’s a new everyday about to begin

Hope seeps in with the light; tenacious, ready for a fight

And I see it’s okay, though it’s not all right

It’s enough to take on a few more nights

Return

Return

(Hello again, Bombay)

 I’m back, you sexy beast

Back among your unblinking lights and endless streets

Back to taste your sultriness on my face

To be pounded by your waves, and feel their salty caress

 

I’m back, to grab you by the scruff of your neck and ride

Or sometimes, on me have you astride,

To be swept off my feet by your tides

And then get up, and sweep your wanton waves aside

 

I’m back to stay awake to nights that never dim

Across winters that never arrive and summers that need a trim

I’m back to get wet in the unabashed showers of your monsoon,

To see a grapefruit sun dip below the sea’s greedy brim

 

I’m back to pick up the threads,

Of unfinished stories and plots left twisted

To find some answers that I left unheard

To say some words too long left unsaid

 

I’m back to put out some fires,

Bury some lingering desires,

To exorcise some ghosts of yesterday

To get some closure along the way

 

To see some faces so I can erase them from memory

To walk on some roads whose curves are still mapped within me

To re-acquaint and renew, where I can

If not, to move on and begin again

 

I’m back; there are new people to meet,

New memories to make and new feelings to greet

There are stories I have to tell anew

While some frayed knots I undo

 

I’m back, you sexy beast,

I know that you missed me

We were good together, you and I

And that’s how we’ll still be