My left hand sticks out and then my head. The traffic moves like awkward sex. Moving at snail’s pace. I feel the sickness gathering within, ready to leap out at the slightest provocation. A car door opens; a man juts out his head, and drools half a litre of viscous sticky betel juice on the road. My vital signs are dwindling and there is a thirst so imminent on my lips, that it makes my belly churn and yearn for catharsis. I look into the eyes of the person sitting next to me. Who is she? Where did she come from? Why am I here? Why is she so beautiful? So, I belch.

The summer does not agree with me, nor do the inflictions of intoxicants. I am rattling down the slope of an inordinately slippery lifestyle, the culmination of such perfidious profanities being awaited albeit not eagerly. There is colour on the way, but the end is a monotonous inkwell.

One simply does not comprehend the virtues of healthy living; one simply doesn’t care. For ages now, even after being warned both eloquently and awkwardly, we are desperately trying to kill ourselves. We are frantic for slow and painful death, sentencing ourselves to the purgatory for reasons we barely comprehend.

Arguments may be made against the prevailing ennui in the absence of a favourable intoxicant, the nature of which is render us incapacitated and life a little more bearable. But I believe we have crafted deliberately but subconsciously, a noose for ourselves. Once a babe in the woods, quite literally, we adorned and destroyed the world while searching for a cure to boredom, and called it progress and enterprise. Now, we complete the loop, by requesting for Nature’s order to be restored. Such vile and fickle creatures we are.

What is common among the seven billion people inhabiting the Earth? Suicidal tendencies. Every single day, we, carefully and by intricate design, carve out ways to eradicate our own species and ironically enough, call it our biggest virtue- the survival instinct. I am constrained to wonder at times- Is there really no escape from this Kafkaesque nightmare? Is there really no cure to our insanity? We are doomed in denial, ephemeral in existence and litmus in character. May be we chose the right path, the path of extinction and oblivion.

Litmus, the very blue and red of our character, has emasculated us like no other razor ever has. Culled and neutered, we parade around flaunting our impotency and burn the entire world vying for glory. Oscillating between blue and red, our enterprise is our demise. Let me explain. Humans, think of themselves as the most intelligent and cunning among all creatures. However, you can’t ignore the fact that humans act like unloved children of God, destroying his every possession, his every creation and the prospects of His future. Therein, lies their salvation or so they think.

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