Haha Hehe

If you can avoid the slightest flinch, bit by bit, you are liberated.

***

To begin with there is nothing but thick darkness. A faint siren calls out from somewhere within its yawning emptiness. I am driving a taxi. Because I am also standing at the corners reading blank newspaper after blank newspaper I observe it’s a pale yellow taxi with swollen stripes that glow, for borders. It is no longer dark, but black and white, with hints of grainy brown. Inside, I am strangely delighted because my hands aren’t tied to the seat. So I let them dance on the wheel. Utter freedom. It’s a swinging car now. People are getting in, couples mostly, and they all want to go exactly where I want to take them even as the siren only gets louder. I am cycling uphill. She has a pretty face. I see her from the front of the class, and then I walk past an endless row of books, reading each of them as I do. She loves the car. The glowing gets more pronounced, the yellow is no longer pale. We bounce away; the trunk is full of unread books. They keep falling out. But I don’t feel sad; they are exactly the ones I have read. I can tell, because somehow I am collecting all the books as they fall behind the car. Who was in the car? Oh. The sound of the siren starts to get unbearable. The darkness starts to return; only this time it’s a thin brittle shroud. At first even the students are green, but then only the board is. I fill it up with brilliance. There is a standing ovation. I ditch the cycle and start to walk uphill. It’s a frenzied walk, because the siren seems to be chasing me. And I have to get there before it gets too dark. Hours pass away in a few seconds, and I am still walking. Only, faster. We are both holding hands as we approach the summit; the taxi follows her silently and slowly, with respect. She is smiling and swinging my arm. The cars are carrying an endless supply of unread news and literature. Then suddenly I recall the frightening siren, and it returns to curdle my blood. It starts to chase all of them away, even her. Even the students, who were eating ice-cream and following me on their desks, start to go back. The ice creams are giant and melting quickly. The cones have glowing borders. The siren is doing that. To everything. I look at them leave. Even the car leaves, taking away all that there was to read. I turn around to resume walking. But the blaring only grows louder; cracks start to appear in the shroud. It begins to tremble violently. Eventually it gets unbearable.

And I wake up.

But not before all of this happens once more, in a flash. I remember the car, and holding her hand and the books. And her smile, sort of.

Then I am fully awake. The morning siren is dead but it’s left behind an angry buzz in my ears.

I know I am not free. But I haven’t moved my arms and legs. You are tied up only if you try to move. If you can stay absolutely still then after a while you can feel free.

***

“Did you see him? Just before he woke up?”

“Yes! He was having a dream!”

“What do mad men dream of? Can you imagine?”

“Madness! What else? Thank God he is tied up all the time, the last time he wasn't he attacked Sister Nathan and then publicly masturbated in the mess!”

“You are right, must be full of sickness, his dreams. I mean even old Sister Nathan must dream some colourful dreams of her own, so one can only imagine.”

“I know. Haha”

“Hehe.”