UberT-Blog

Written on June 30, 2008 – 3:18 pm | by Ubertechnophile |

Passers-by stood around the badly mangled remains, in stunned silence, while the policeman pulled out a mobile phone stained in blood, from next to what used to be the LCD display of the car stereo stuck at the track that was probably playing when the crash occurred, while the driver lay motionless, with blood pouring from his head that had banged against the windshield.

Startled, he woke up, to yet another day. Life had not being going well for him, of late. Having a disturbed relationship with his family ever since he was a child, his friends were always his pillars of support. But a lingering doubt always remained. He thought he was understood by no one. A million doubts clouded his mind. “Why me?” he thought. He’d fought the drops of disappointments and induced failures in his life for the past many years, but now the bucket was full. Overflowing. “what exactly have I expected wrong from the people who matter to me, to deserve this?”, he pondered, reminiscing the times he went totally out of the way to help someone who mattered to him a lot, only to be rebuked when he stated that, never to get the same special treatment in return. His dark past was following him. He’d tried hard to get rid of it, but the ones who lent him an ear to at least listen to him, diluting his grief, were far, far away. He’d got fine friends now, no doubt, but they differed in their opinion about it. A blanket rule to forget it and move on was all they could suggest. Load of grief inside him, he’d moved on, with one inspiring thought in mind, ‘the show must go on’. The present was not a bed of roses, either. He lived in an apartment with his family, and yet rarely exchanged more than ten words with the others at home. He was content with getting his daily dose of love from inanimate objects, which substituted for the concern he was always deprived of. He was beginning to realize, that he’d got his priorities in life wrong. He put everyone else ahead of him. His girlfriend, his best friends, his siblings, his friends, and perhaps, his parents. His past had taught him to look at positives in every negative situation. He’d mastered the art, or so he thought. These problems never affected him consciously. However, unknown to him, the subconscious was deeply affected, resulting in stray bouts of rage that had everyone close to him concerned. “Stop getting so angry” was the advice he always got, without anyone even bothering to realize, in spite of knowing him so well, what was the root cause of that anger. Constant rebukes and unjust scolding otherwise had now made him immune.

“Everyone has their own problem, which is why they do not think of me” he thought, consoling himself about the fact that no one could ever understand him. He had a gift. The gift of understanding. He understood each person who mattered to him perfectly. He’d always strived hard to ensure he lived up to their expectations, mostly successfully. In doing so, he’d eventually got his priorities wrong. His feelings were never cared about, except on the rare occasion when he perhaps explicitly stated it, in which case there was one in a million chance that someone would actually understand that he had feelings too. He’d gotten used to that too now, and he rarely ever voiced his disappointments at absolutely anything, fearing he’d have to go through the same emotional turmoil again. He wondered whether he should change himself, and treat everyone the same way they treated him. He’d thought of this before, but something stopped him. He feared he’d be misunderstood again, like all the times before. He feared he’d be labeled someone with an attitude problem, which he knew was so not true. His thoughts were interrupted by the incessant ringing of his cellphone, one of the many inanimate obsessions he treasured. He’d just been called to hang out with his friends, at a place about an hour’s drive away. He’d got a lot of work to do, but like every single time before, he decided to put his friends before him, choosing to drive and meet his friends instead. Partly because even if he refused to come, he’d be misunderstood, and partly because he did not want to stay at home, lest he had another fit of rage as a consequence of some insignificant argument. Mind in turmoil, he could not make up if he should change himself, or continue the same way, letting his feelings get eaten away.

These thoughts in mind, he drove his car, another inanimate love of his, which he’d carefully structured to suit his taste. He loved driving on a rainy day, listening to music he loved. As the he drops of rain fell against his windshield, he suddenly felt his grief was being washed away too. He’d discovered the solution. Silence. The power of silence. He smiled to himself. He’d known it all along. His cellphone rang. His friends were urging him to reach fast. He was just ten minutes away. As the rain pelted down heavier on his windshield, interspersed between extremely rapid to and fro motions of his wiper, he accelerated, elated at the metaphorical wiping away of his grief, as one of his favourite songs played, the lyrics of which made him feel even better..

I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real
I wanna let go of the pain I’ve held so long
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real
I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along
Somewhere I belong.

He felt life was worth living, again, like a million times before. He wondered how a simple song had the power to set right everything that was wrong with his thoughts. His cellphone rang. It was his mother, who’d called him to wish him a happy birthday, something that he’d forgotten about in all his grief. He smiled and said ‘Thank you, ma’, while the song perhaps aptly continued playing in the background, just as the truck smashed into his car from the left..

I will never know myself until I do this on my own
And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed
I will never be anything till I break away from me
I will break away, I’ll find myself today.

Then there was silence.  The very silence he’d discovered as a solution to his problems. Only, this silence was permanent. It was over. If he was alive then, he’d probably have seen a positive there too. Few people had the good fortune of dying on their birthday. And to top it all, he’d seen it coming, just that morning. People who were around gathered, as an ambulance and a police jeep pulled in.

Symbolically, the candle on the birthday cake his friends had arranged as a surprise for him blew out, while they wondered where he was..

Moral of the story: - Using your mobile phone while driving is hazardous to life, even if just taking photos or videos.