The Writings of K.N.Thaker

[harujiss]

fall

[knthaker-blog]

Same Time Tomorrow?

Every day I wake up early, get dressed, eat breakfast and go outside to wait.  On this morning it was snowy and the snowflakes caught in my hair and melted on my cheeks.  I could see my sighs hang in the air before dissipating.  I looked to my right, to my left in anticipation, waiting for the train that I rode every day.  I knew exactly when it would come.  It came at the same time every day.  Yet every day I had the hope that something would change.  Maybe it would come early.  Maybe it would not come at all.  I knew this expectation was silly.  The train would arrive exactly when it had always arrived.  And I would board, the sole passenger, and allow it to carry me as always.

I watched the snowflakes drift in the wind wondering if they felt free or forced.  At 6:47 I began to feel the train approaching.  It did not signal its arrival.  It did not have to.  I, the lone passenger was already waiting.  As it slowed down, I could feel my own reluctance growing.  Maybe today I could stay home.  Maybe it would leave without me.  I looked at the ticket in my hand.  One way.  I checked my watch.  The time was still 6:47.  My fingers and toes began to go numb from the cold.  I boarded the train.

The warmth from the train melted any remaining snow clinging to me.  I opened the door to the compartment and found my seat.  Seat 21.  A window seat.  I sat with my hands in my lap, fidgeting with the ticket ever so slightly.  I stared at my hands.  Maybe I could just not look this time.  But I knew that would not work.  The train would not start until I stared out the window.  I lifted my head and heard the doors shut.  I moved my eyes to the window and the train began to move.  I watched my house disappear behind a snowy veil as the train began to increase speed.

I stared at the snowy landscape, trying to count the trees that rushed past.  Very soon the snow would end and lush green field would appear.  When this happened the train would slowly come to a stop.  The doors would open and wait in silent anticipation for someone to disembark.  But as I was the only passenger, this anticipation was moot.  I stared at the endless sea of grass with the occasional flower contrasting starkly in the constant green.  It was a lovely sight.  Tranquil.  But I could not bring myself to leave my seat.

After a few agonizing minutes, the doors closed and the train started.  As it picked up speed, I watched the wind carry away the splendid flowers, their petals dancing as they disappeared.  The grassy sea suddenly became a real sea, the green merging with blue to become a vast ocean.  The train glided on the water, the tracks seemingly hidden just below the water surface.  In the distance was an island covered in the softest looking sand that probably would feel like clouds to the toes.  As the island neared, the train slowed, and once again the doors slid open.  Gentle waves splashed against the carriages, almost beckoningly.  The sand glistened from the sunlight.  But I remained frozen in my seat, holding my breath, waiting for the train to start again.  As the doors closed and the train began once more, the glinting sand turned into jagged stones and the ocean turned onyx.

The train surged along once again and soon the opaque ocean disappeared too, the water spilling into a ravine.  On the other side of the ravine, the sky began to disappear behind the steep slope of a mountain covered in pine trees.  The trees were so dense, one would easily think that the mountain was purely made of trees and no stone.  But on some parts, the stone mountain face was clearly discernable.  The train slowed once more and stopped and the door to my carriage opened to reveal a dirt path leading to the mountain.  Once again there was silence, stillness, and expectation as I simply waited for the doors to close once more.  When they did, I watched the pine needles simultaneously fall from the trees, leaving them bare.

Again and again the train sped and slowed, stopping intermittently to allow me, the lone passenger to disembark.  Each destination was just as splendid as the last.  Each offering its own landscape of serenity.  But I could never bring myself to leave the asylum of the train.  As magnificent as each destination truly was, the fear of permanence was transfixing.  If I disembarked, would that place be my new home?  The unknown answer kept me fastened to my chair, only able to look and ponder what if? Until pure exhaustion swept over me.  I would awaken in my bed once more, get dressed, eat breakfast, and go outside to wait, hoping that maybe today, the train would not come.

[knthaker-blog]

City Machine

Look around. What you see before you is a city. A large city, filled with lights. Everything is modern. Everything is new. To your left is the bank. We only have one here. To your right is the café. Of those we have a million. We have everything here. We have a shopping mall. We have a cinema centre. We have a train station. Our city, a normal city.

And the people. The people are normal too. Men and women, girls and boys. Families walking together. Students going to school. Women on their way to work. Men on their way home. The people dressed smartly. Dressed like they should be. Normal people, for a normal city.

Now look closer. You may notice that everything is tinged in blue light. This is the power. This is life of our city. All the buildings are bathed in blue. The streets are illuminated blue. And the people. Their shadows are blue, too.

Spend a day in this city. Spend a week, a month, a year. You might notice there is only one time of day: night. You might notice there is only one season: none. Every day, the same. The weather is the same. The time is the same. A city on repeat. Oh sure, the people do different things every day. But they loop. They trace themselves. Tomorrow may be different from today, but next year will be the same as the last. They do not deviate. They do not change. Hard-wired, even though they were born free.

Spend a day in this city. You will not get very far. You, stranger, cannot enter the buildings. Cannot eat the food. Cannot sleep in the beds. You, stranger, are not wired to the city. You may only pass through. You may walk though the buildings to the other side but will never find yourself inside. You cannot grasp anything. The people do not see you. You are not illuminated. You are black. A disconnected machine.

Spend a week in this city and things will not change much. Perhaps you've seen everything. Perhaps you've found your favourite place. You follow the people. You do your best to be one of them. You try to dress the same. You try to eat the same. But everything still passes through you.

Spend a month in the city. You have a routine. You know where to go and where not to go. Home, work, lunch, work, café, store, home, repeat. Everything is still foreign. Everything is still intangible. You are still the disconnected machine in an entire integrated network.

But then suddenly,

Suddenly...

You're in.

Spend a year in the city and you are one of them. You walk among the people, not through them. You enter the stores instead of passing them by. You look the same. You eat the same, You walk the same. You are no longer black, a disconnected machine. You are illuminated. Your shadow is blue, too. And you can no longer see the other disconnected machines, fighting for a way into the city machine.

[knthaker-blog]

Chassis Rock

I don’t remember how I got to Chassis Rock. I don’t really remember anything before I woke up here. I had this strange notion that I lived somewhere else and someone left me here as some sort of practical joke. But leaving someone alone in the middle of a dense fog and murky water isn’t very funny. I do remember everything about my first day, though. I had awoken in a daze in the middle of this surprisingly flat rock. Surrounding the rock was the most opaque water I had ever seen. Water normally reflects a person’s image; this water seemed to swallow mine whole. I imagine most people would have been scared to wake up like this. And the prospect of being alone in this unknown place should have been terrifying to me too. But it wasn’t. Instead of fear, I felt relief in my solitude. I welcomed it. Only now do I really how foolish that was, and how foolish I was. The rock itself was cold and barren. It offered no shelter or sustenance. It was big enough to walk about on, but not enough so to stretch out without touching the water. I was too afraid to let that happen. I was afraid that if I touched the water, it would swallow me the same way it swallowed my reflection. I spent most of my first day sleeping, mostly to avoid the feelings of inevitable death. When I was awake, I didn’t panic. I didn’t scream for help. I thought it pointless. The dense fog seemed to live off sound. It inhaled every breath and every sigh I made. I didn’t try to escape either. The water was too evil-looking to consider entering. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there were things in the water, waiting to devour me if I were fool enough to get too close. I don’t know how long I slept for. The fog consumed all sunlight as well as sound, distorting my sense of time. But I didn’t sit in darkness. There was this dim light all around me. It seemed almost as though the rock were luminous. I laid on this mysterious, glowing rock feeling the effects of hunger and thirst. I could no longer sleep. I didn’t have the energy to anymore. Instead I laid motionless, awaiting death. But I didn’t want to die. So I took a chance. I crawled to the edge of the rock, cupped my hands, and plunged them into the darkness. The water felt neither hot nor cold; it had no temperature. And when I lifted my hands, it was clear. I drank the water and the effects were instantaneous. It felt almost like being reborn. The water wasn’t deadly; it was a panacea. I sat at the edge for a while, letting my feet hang over into the water and disappear into its opacity. I thought something would grab them, but nothing did. I submerged my legs. Nothing grabbed them. I slipped my body in. Nothing grabbed me, but I knew I wasn’t alone in the water. There was something else here with me. I took a deep breath and sunk below the surface. I couldn’t see anything around past my own body. I couldn’t see what was watching me. Once I resurfaced, I swam into the fog No matter how far in I went, I could always see the rock despite the fog’s thickening. I could feel more things watching me, not just from inside the water, but inside the fog as well. Eventually, the fear and paranoia overwhelmed me and I returned to the rock. Where before it felt cold, it now felt warm. It seemed to be welcoming me back. * * * Time passed, though I couldn’t say how much. I became used to living on the rock. It provided for me. Though I never needed it, when I desired food, the water’s current brought me food. When I desired a blanket, the same. It brought me everything I asked for except a companion. Every time I asked, the rock became a little colder, the water edged closer, and the fog thickened. It felt as though the rock wanted me all to itself. Despite this, I became less afraid of my new home. I became more comfortable in the water as well. I noticed, one day, that the current which rough me presents had no effect on me. It never carried me away from the rock, nor did it drag me under. My head always stayed above the surface unless I wanted it to. I thought the water itself didn’t have any effect on me. I thought the monsters couldn’t get to me. I was protected. I was protected by the very thing I once feared. But the sense of protection didn’t last long. Veils exist to hide something, and all around Chassis Rock was a veil. The longer I stayed and accepted what I considered my new home, the less it veiled from me. With each excursion into the water, the clearer it became. With each sound of happiness I made, the fog dissipated. I was still secluded from the outside world. But I was no longer being sheltered. I began to see the monsters. And the monsters began to see me. I never saw such horrors before. I couldn’t go into the water anymore. I couldn’t even look at it without becoming sick with terror. And the rock noticed and quickly shrouded itself once more. It was then I realized my purpose here: Chassis Rock wanted me to slay its monsters. It would not free me unless I freed it. I had to free it from the terrible evils lurking in the water and the sky. But sadly, Chassis Rock chose the wrong person. I am no warrior. I am no hero. I am a person. Stuck on a rock. With no knowledge of slaying monsters.

Dedicated to Erik.