The Collision of Two Celestials

KATE:

It was in the morning of 31st February, I was in the bathroom, draining my hair, birds chirping in through the sunlight that welcomed through the window, that I heard a cacophony from the kitchen:

‘It’s your last day hon! Get ready.’ That sweet, sugar-coated, diabetes causing vile and evil woman is who we’ll call my mother. Vile and evil are of the same letters: which is the most unironic thing I have ever said. In the world and epoch where every woman was a tool for breeding and marriage, and every man was, also a tool for breeding and marriage, my parents were lovers. Or so I have been told. In fact, their love was more pragmatic than the starving caveman’s love of raw meat(Before inventing fire, of course).

My father at best was a hypocrite politician(interchangeable words) and at worst a ruthless murderer. Some would even say that’s a killer combo.

‘It’s not my last day! Not yet!’ I shouted from the bedroom, having done the cleansing, I was putting on my school dress: White shirt and navy blue pants. Yes! PANTS! Because I. Look. Good. in Pants!

‘I meant, at school!’

‘I know what you meant, I was joking!’

‘I know you knew what I meant, I was too!’ she leaned on the door to my room, closed her, eyes over-arching them smiling like an anime character. That horrendous bitch!

It wasn’t my last day(hopefully). It wasn’t my last day at school either. It was my last day at that school. See, I was being let go. Not the way the Joker let go of Rachel in The Dark Knight building scene, well… kind of. ‘Let Go’ is one of the many things created in the English language, to disney things.

Disney(verb):

The action of covering the dark, unforgiving, wicked and gritty reality of truth with an all-good, star-spangled fantasy lie.

For example: Let go; Belief in yourself; Nothing is impossible.

Let go? More like ‘Fuck you! You waste of good oxygen. The way you look makes pineapple pizza look like a delicacy!’. Well, Why was I being let go?

Was it because I broke that boy’s nose? Or because I switched Ms. Marvelous Maisel’s perfume with lighter fluid so, on a fortunate, dry summer noon, the serendipity of how things ought to work out in the universe might allow her clothes to catch fire? Or was it because I was chasing her with a lighter?

Maybe it was one of those things, maybe it was all of those things, maybe that kid had a really ugly nose, maybe I did him a favor… Maybe Ms. Marvelous Maisel’s choice of putting-so-much-perfume-if-it-was-water-you-could-quench-an-African-village does ought to being rewarded as her being burned at stake. One way of looking at my adventures would be a journey on which a (ho)man transforms the lives of lesser individuals by providing them with catharsis, like god! But better of course, I exist.

They say power resides where men think power resides, but in fact, it resides where the women of those men reside. My father might have eventually been the most powerful man in the whole country, but he could never be the most powerful woman.

I went on with school that day. It was like the rest of my life: lonely, abysmal, and something to do with how Game of Thrones was Ed Sheeran’s pinnacle performance. I was quite happy with changing school, to have that excitement, a new slate, you know? To have a whole new group of people to disappoint all over again!

In the evening, the mother caught a cold so I had to get food from The Miazro for the whole family. Miazro was our go-to pretend we’re not super-rich or super-powerful, peasant-commonary act to maintain our groundedness. In the same way Warren Buffet drives a measly Cadillac DTS or Zuckerberg eats his Sunday lunch off the floor of some suburban area.. I mean on* the floor. But unbeknownst to either of my two parents, I really liked eating there.

And something happened. Something good.

KRRISH:

I haven’t done this, like ever. Writing a diary… just feels too narcissistic. It has been almost a year since… to explain in short:

Mom’s gone… and

Dad’s gone… also,

Home alone.

The account is still there, still intact. Nobody has called any shelters as dad promised. Miazro’s business is booming, so hopefully no downsizing. Uncle Ricky is happy. Bike broke last week. I made a friend though. We inked a kid together. It was me, he was the one with ink. I cried afterward. But hey! Now I have a blue tan. Life is giving me lemons, oranges and all type of other fruits, and I am sure going to make lemonade out of all of them.

Was in an accident today, and something happened. Kind of embarrassing.

KATE:

I was riding a 24-inch bicycle that was the living incarnation of any bike from 90s Bollywood movies that had musicals in it(I mean ALL Bollywood movies ever).

The most embarrassing part was the smaller seat on the middle support bar that the actress sits on. Though I was no heroine, my bicycle was a customized pink colored variant. One of its kind(Perks of owning Atlas’ 5%). After getting to the Miazro, I headed home with the packed food in my basket.

It was evening time, the sky had an orange hue, the world looked like it was angry but couldn’t do anything about it. A gentle wind was blowing the light pink leaves of satin. There was a poly-ethene bag flying in the air. It felt like it would rain. Hence, I had to move fast.

And just as everything in the land and the seas stood still, on a turn so blind an innocent, I crashed into a B-Twin RX, an elegant white bike with one broken paddle and no brakes. My Atlas was slower, so presumably, less momentum but his, was a sleeky cheeky B-Twin, and mine was the fucking 24 inch!

It was a David and Goliath situation if David took Goliath’s hand and slapped himself with it. He, as good a rider as he seemed, inevitably fell from the bike, actually, with the bike, but surprisingly, so did I. And I am not so sure if it’s my bike that wanted to fall. Or if it was just my bike that couldn’t stand the sight of those hazel brown eyes of that caramel colored boy.

They say when you are in an accident, time slows down, and you feel like you are in slow motion. Well, that didn’t fucking happen.

So I guess it wasn’t an accident.

KRRISH:

So I was on my way to work at The Miazro. I was late. No time to fix my bike. My bike was a B-Twin R, and it was one of the five things I had from my father before his death. I had it repainted last week, it was all white again. Quite minimalistic. I was riding fast without any brakes, on my way, when out of somewhere a girl on a bike appeared and as to my surprise, instead of turning my handle to the other side, to the side where there was nothing, and I might have not crashed, I turned it directly at her, which made it look like I crashed the bike into her on purpose. Like we were sworn foes on a jousting battle. We both fell, and I did not say anything.

KATE:

His bike was all white. Remember how I told you it was about to rain? Well, just as the crash happened, there was a thunder that struck through the street. And at that instance, everything throughout the cosmos went ever so silent. No loud horns of any vehicle, neither any engines running. You could hear the first droplet of water make contact with the asphalt. It truly felt like the collision of two celestials. I looked up just as I fell, in the pouring rain, and he was gone.

I wanted to see him again, but I was very sure that that was the end of our once in a lifetime interaction. It’s not like at this point in the story, I am going to go:

‘And this kids… is how I met your father.’

At least my food was okay(See, it’s a joke because it wasn’t!). I collected what was left of my food which was now more wet than the prescribed wetness of food, and gave it to the street dogs, who very much enjoyed the food, water or not.

‘He’s loving it, look at him, the sick fuck is loving wet noodles and buns’, I thought to myself. And it was at that moment I realized why dogs could never rise to our level, and why the dog is a man’s best friend. Because they both have many similarities. Anyways, we ordered some food, had a nice wholesome family dinner, and I slept early at 11 because I had my first day of school the next day. The first day, at that school.

KRRISH:

She was wearing a black dress with little yellow flowers painted on it. Painted, not printed, so when I looked back, they started diluting in the rain, coming off with water. Colors all over the black and white palette, it was like someone fucked real good with the world, with my world. Pink, some more pink, black, shades of grey, and bright yellow… all harmonizing through the droplets of colorless water. It felt miserable to do what I did, it felt bad to leave someone like that. I waited till 8, went back home and slept a little late, at around 11, contemplating what had happened. I had school the next day, so had to wake up early.