January 12, 2007 at 1:56 pm 1 comment

Gasp, gasp, what’s that thing i’m aching for, what’s this ghastly place, there isn’t any light here, it’s so cold. ohh… why are you cutting off my chords. That was my line of life. You just cut it off… you …

Gasp, gasp, what’s it that you ask me to do, breathe ?, is it that what i’m aching for, is it that what i’m agonising over, you sure i have to do this, you …. you cut off my chords … you …

Gasp, gasp, i’ll try, you cut off my chords, … you… still l’ll try … this hurts too much…. here it goes, hmm.. wait, my chords gave me everything … you ….

Gasp, gasp, can not stand this any longer, this ache cuts my body all through, i’ll do as you say, i’ll breathe ……….. well, that helped, it does not hurt that much. You cut off my chords, when will i get that back. Wait, that ache is welling up again. what ? i have to breathe again…, you really mean i have to do that again. My chords …..

Gasp, gasp here i go again, it was easier this time, still my feeding chords were bettar. i suppose i will be doing it again. i can do it a few more times, may be until i get my chords back again. My chords gave me ….

Gasp, gasp, ohh i breathe again. This is not so bad after all. Well, i do not like this place much, the bed is so hard. but i’m tired with all this breathing. Think i’m falling asleep, think i’ll dream, of my chords.


Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

Munnar Musings Someone at the door

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. Abhilash  |  January 16, 2007 at 6:19 am

    The experience of being born is something so pleasant for the outsiders. But the ‘pain’ of the ‘victim’ always go unnoticed. Even a interview on his experience is not possible. Good narration there.


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