I wanted to die that night. I usually don't have a high zeal to live on other days too but the thought of dying as a possibility never entered my mind. When I look at the city below me, it all appears so quiet and organized. Little cars moving, always in sync with the others so that they never collide. Little people walking on the footpath. The chaiwala(tea-seller) humming a song while pouring the tea from the kettle to one giant cup, increasing the height of fall as the cup fills till both his arms are extended. Everything works like clockwork, perfect pieces moving precisely. Then, there is me.
Having been kicked out of the job on the same day your dog dies doesn't really put you in a great state of mind. I don't know how to feel about shouting at my dead Bailey. I don't know how I feel about cleaning his mess for the last time while leaving his dead body on the couch. You can only hold your breath for so long till the stench of a decaying body starts decaying your soul. You have to bury them. I buried him. I buried my tears.
Being alone and making a living in this fast-paced city has taught me many things, but how to wake up without knowing what to do in the morning wasn't one of them. A salesman who could not sell himself in an interview is not who I aspired to become. The door bangs every evening, louder every second than the last. Sushma, the landlady stands there till she gets exhausted of beating the door and her tongue runs out of abuses to hurl at the unemployed weirdo who is late on his rent.
Amidst the hustle-bustle of the city, I always longed for some quiet. I really believed that I liked solitude. That changed when I met loneliness. Like the darkness, it engulfed me inside it and I went on spiralling into the never-ending pit of silence. Lost in despair, I was hoping for a change, looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. I crawled through the muddy surface of my flat. With every step I tried to take my feet sank deeper and deeper until I was clenched at my ankles with the shackles I created for myself. In the past couple of weeks, I travelled from the merry land to the city of indifference to the street corner named self-loathing. That night, I was in the territory of fear.
When the last rupee was spent and Sushma found me loitering on the roadside, in the blink of an eye I was homeless. You always know that you're good enough to survive, you always know that there is something for everyone out there. Until there isn't. Until you're forced to swallow your last piece of pride and beg for mercy in order to get food down your throat. The fear of being attacked by every staring pair of eyes turning in your direction makes you walk really fast; faster than everyone with a purpose walks in the city. The bone-chilling noise the pack of dogs make when you walk into a corner to lie down is enough to freeze your blood, but your back aches so much that the bite from dogs doesn't seem like a big risk. When you are homeless you are afraid of everyone and everything, from the other homeless who are strong enough to break your bones for whatever you have left on you, to the police who uses you to demonstrate their ordinance, to the watchmen who are there to protect strays from entering the premises.
"I don't deserve to be like this ... please give me work."
Are you still a human when your tears stop meaning anything to everyone?
That night after the city slept, I dressed up one last time. Rags do not give justice to the last journey of a man. From the thirteenth floor, the city did not look like the usual clockwork, but the deserted night street cried of loneliness. For the first time in so many days, the city's sound resonated with my heartbeats. A parting gift. For a man who was afraid of everything, death did not frighten me one bit. With a smile on my face, I jumped.
Hello Rohan!
This is probably the best piece I have ever stumbled upon since I started writing on yws.
I have been following your pieces for a long time. I have been reading them on avenues like Fb , blogspot, ismdiaries etc. Consider this review to be a review from a follower of yours.
I thoroughly love the first paragraph. The poetic scanning of the nearby trivialities with beautiful intricacy, all leading up to the last personal punch is put so magically that it comes as a beautiful surprise for the readers.
" Then, there is me."
The narrative slithers its way through the piece ( I'd rather not say gently, instead too sharply) , with every bend , evoking a comprehensive, deep and esoteric pensive state that penetrates through the depths of heart.
One point that I really loved was the fact that the narrator doesn't express his plight or rants as a sickly, fragile and frail creature instead I imagine him to be contemplating these thoughts with a straight face, with winds blowing gently over his body, while he stands firmly on the rooftop with his arms loose and sleeves hanging, as the death opens her arms to embrace him.
A favourite part of mine that inspired me ( I would love to incorporate them in my writings as well), is the assigning of places a spectrum of human emotions. Basically assigning lifeless entities an essence of life to express emotions more vividly.
", I travelled from the merry land to the city of indifference to the street corner named self-loathing. That night, I was in the territory of fear."
"From the thirteenth floor, the city did not look like the usual clockwork, but the deserted night street cried of loneliness."
This question looked straight through my heart.
"Are you still a human when your tears stop meaning anything to everyone?"
It gave a momentary yet beautiful chills down through my body.
Overall, I'll repeat again this is probably the best piece I have ever stumbled upon since I started writing on yws.
At last I say, and it's just me saying, the title isn't too apt for the narration. Maybe, it doesn't do justice to it. Maybe.
Keep writing and inspiring little peeps like us!!
Hello Rohan!
This is probably the best piece I have ever stumbled upon since I started writing on yws.
I have been following your pieces for a long time. I have been reading them on avenues like Fb , blogspot, ismdiaries etc. Consider this review to be a review from a follower of yours.
I thoroughly love the first paragraph. The poetic scanning of the nearby trivialities with beautiful intricacy, all leading up to the last personal punch is put so magically that it comes as a beautiful surprise for the readers.
" Then, there is me."
The narrative slithers its way through the piece ( I'd rather not say gently, instead too sharply) , with every bend , evoking a comprehensive, deep and esoteric pensive state that penetrates through the depths of heart.
One point that I really loved was the fact that the narrator doesn't express his plight or rants as a sickly, fragile and frail creature instead I imagine him to be contemplating these thoughts with a straight face, with winds blowing gently over his body, while he stands firmly on the rooftop with his arms loose and sleeves hanging, as the death opens her arms to embrace him.
A favourite part of mine that inspired me ( I would love to incorporate them in my writings as well), is the assigning of places a spectrum of human emotions. Basically assigning lifeless entities an essence of life to express emotions more vividly.
", I travelled from the merry land to the city of indifference to the street corner named self-loathing. That night, I was in the territory of fear."
"From the thirteenth floor, the city did not look like the usual clockwork, but the deserted night street cried of loneliness."
This question looked straight through my heart.
"Are you still a human when your tears stop meaning anything to everyone?"
It gave a momentary yet beautiful chills down through my body.
Overall, I'll repeat again this is probably the best piece I have ever stumbled upon since I started writing on yws.
At last I say, and it's just me saying, the title isn't too apt for the narration. Maybe, it doesn't do justice to it. Maybe.
Keep writing and inspiring little peeps like us!!
This gave me chills. I love the way you convey the author's emotions, especially the line "Everything works like clockwork, perfect pieces moving precisely. Then there is me. The first paragraph changed tenses many times which made it a little difficult for me to read, because the first line is written in past tense, but then the author begins speaking as if it is the present. Aside from that, everything was great. I love the way the story progresses, showing how the speaker got to that point, and the ending was beautifully written and it made me incredibly sad to think that that is really a solution for some people. Amazing job!
Thanks for the comment. I'm glad you liked it. Yeah, the tenses fluctuate a lot in this piece. Perhaps because in my head it was playing as sort of flashback and so the tenses change depending on which world is going on in my head. If that makes any sense
-rohan
That makes sense, thanks for clarifying.
This gave me chills. I love the way you convey the author's emotions, especially the line "Everything works like clockwork, perfect pieces moving precisely. Then there is me." The first paragraph changed tenses many times which made it a little difficult for me to read, because the first line is written in past tense, but then the author begins speaking as if it is the present. Aside from that, everything was great. I love the way the story progresses, showing how the speaker got to that point, and the ending was beautifully written and it made me incredibly sad to think that that is really a solution for some people. Amazing job!
This gave me chills. I love the way you convey the author's emotions, especially the line "Everything works like clockwork, perfect pieces moving precisely. Then there is me. The first paragraph changed tenses many times which made it a little difficult for me to read, because the first line is written in past tense, but then the author begins speaking as if it is the present. Aside from that, everything was great. I love the way the story progresses, showing how the speaker got to that point, and the ending was beautifully written and it made me incredibly sad to think that that is really a solution for some people. Amazing job!
Hello, shaniac here to review your piece!
I really like how you started this piece out -- because you get to the narrator's point as well as the small descriptions that happen from day to day. You give the reader a sense of understanding that this guy feels as though he is just another piece in the puzzle and I think you've expressed that really well. One minor suggestion that I have is the ending with 'then, there is me' (which I think would sound better as 'then, there's me). I think with this small bit, it could be its own sentence and that could be a segway into the next paragraph where the narrator talks about why he thinks he doesn't matter and all that jazz.
This sentence feels a bit awkward. What I think needs to fix these sentence is a comma because usually, they help with spacing for both the reader and yourself. Also, why was he kicked out of his job? You do give a slight interest that since his dog died, the narrator was late to work, but I think you should give a bit of insight into that as well as how his dog died -- you don't have to go into the details, just a peek into how it happened. As well as how long the dog was dead for.
You kind of switch POV in this line (and the one before it), which could break the consistency for some readers. Usually, you should stick with one POV (and tense) throughout writing so it is easier to the readers when they read. Also, I kind of think you could've worded this sentence a bit better -- such as, 'I had to bury him, but instead I buried my tears'.
I think this sentence is awkward sounding and it just might be the beginning part of 'being along making a living in this fast-paced city'. What I suggest is adding a 'and' between 'being alone' and 'making a living' because those are two different things and it would sound a bit better if you separated them.
I would like some more description of what Sushma may look like, as well as the narrator. I think if you give some more background with the narrator, you'd be able to paint a picture for the reader when they read this. I also noticed while I was reading that the overall message of this short story is that you lose hope only when there's nothing around you to pick you back up. I think a lot of people have felt that probably sometime in their life (including myself).
In the fifth paragraph, you switch into that different POV. I think the main problem here is you do it quite a bit (which is fine considering that this could be a first draft or whatever and you are trying to find your footing), but I would suggest sticking to what you have in the beginning with the narrator speaking to the readers because that has more of grasp than you putting the reader into the narrator's shoes. I also really like the ending. It is kind of a 'bid farewell to the world and don't look back' kind of vibe.
To cap, I think you have a nice short story here. There is a great character who is going through a lot and a nice message. I do think you should work on figuring out your POV and describing more of the characters/setting. Have a good day/night and if you have any questions, let me know!
Hi Shaniac!
Thanks for the review. I appreciate the stuff that you picked out and have made a few changes here and there based on that.
I left some (in fact many) details undescribed in the piece because I generally tend to keep a lot of things in my short writings open to interpretation and so stuff are hinted here and there with details to be filled by the reader's imagination; hopefully making the story a personal read for everyone.
Hope that clarifies why I didn't take on all of your well-put suggestions. Also, can you please describe a bit about changing POVs as you mention it? I am an amateur writer at best and usually do not care about technicalities while writing but it's good to know stuff so that I can edit it later.
Thanks for the review again!
-rohan
Hello @rohan
This is a very beautiful story, and your use of language is excellent. You don't write extravagant words(if you did, I am sorry I didn't see them) but instead the words shape the story like sculptures. There was no need for dialogue, seeing as the monologue is perfect without it. The tone is very sad, and it doesn't change until the very end when it becomes dark happy.
And the ending is chilling. But I understand why the speaker did it. He/she wants to end his\her suffering.
As I said, this is a beautiful story of reality. Great job!