Another day in his life

" What do you want me to write ? " her voice is almost a whisper, but he senses the controlled aggression .

He laughs a bit and pats her hand. "Anything you like, you want, your happy memories, anything you remember.." He gives her a kindly smile, but she cuts him , her voice now rising a bit ."Is this your patronising best? " she glares at him fixing her eyes right into his.

He coughs and turns his head away and tries to smile again, but she retorts as if reading his mind, " Scared arent you, that I might.." He takes a deep breath. The tension between them passes in a moment that can be felt only in the rhythmic beating of the hearts .

"What do you want me to write ?" Her voice becomes a whisper again and she covers her face with her hands.." My most vulnerable moments, my angry days, my depressed thoughts, my violent moods, my lonely pain,my weakest actions...you think I deserve all this ?"she looks almost pleadingly at him, looking for a bit of sympathy.

"No, he replies a bit coldly, rather detached.." Your life is not unique..dont come here looking for pity , now write..

She walks away a few minutes later with the blank paper in hand as he wipes the sweat off his brow, and presses the bell. Another crazy day , thought the psychiatrist as the next patient walks in .

The Mirror

The glass looked a bit worn out and discoloured. The grime had stuck to it like glue and stubborn patches made their mark in the otherwise shiny surface . But he didnt seem to mind. It had become a habit for him to stand in front of it for a few minutes everyday.The glare of the sun reflected through the glass. The eyes stared back at him. Cold, unemotional. He was not looking at the dry tanned skin nor the lines that had etched themselves. He had that ageless look about him. He pushed a strand of smooth wavy hair that had fallen over his eyes . He splashed water on his eyes and stared again . Those eyes bored into his , almost piercing through him. He looked away disappointed .

It was a daily ritual. The mirror seemed to tell him something.It showed him his tanned skin, his bright features, his cold eyes, his deep lines, his ageless face - but it could not show him something that he was been looking for all these years...his IDENTITY .

A day in his life

The swagger, the smile. He was born with it. The arrogance, the attitude. He loved to flaunt it.

A beam of the morning sun fell scross his face . With a violent jerk, he pulled the curtains apart. The soft rays filled his room . He glared back at the sun. He knew his gaze was more powerful. He cannot have a competitor in his lifetime. He was the rising sun

He knew he was going to win..he had known it always.Luck or skill, he didnt care . He was always told that he was a winner and he let everyone know that . The losers didnt just lose just money or fame, for he made sure that they lost their self respect, their strength . "Never allow them to rise . They should never be able to rise, his scheming mentor told him ." He didnt believe in mentors either. They were there till he needed them - just another gratification

He had it all and he knew he never had to work for it. He simply claimed it . Others just bore his burden .

He smiled. It was a smirk . He mocked destiny. It was in his control. He loved it all. The adulation, the adoration , the admiration. The applause still rang in his ears.

The sky changed colours. Blue,pink, purple,black. The colours of life. Time moved. On the other hand, time stood still . He walked into the room. The curtain was drawn .Silence strangled him. He sat on the edge of the bed and the tears rolled. Sobs pierced through the silence. Like a hungry animal, the scream erupted from his insides and ripped through his throat . A savage cry .He raved, roared and fell in agony..he lay drained, his head covered under the pillow, his face drenched by his tears and sweat. Silence . He knew it then. He had it all yet he had nothing