Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Not an Insane Thought!

There is a thin line separating sanity from insanity, he thought. But the picture of saneness just appeared with two weights called "sane thoughts" and "insane thoughts" suspended by a pulley in his mind. He was on his way home and the train gave a perfect surrounding where he can calmly contemplate on his theory of insanity. Yet he knew, there was more that would drive a person on the paths to insanity. There was circumstance on which  many of the origins of insanity is attributed. However, he somehow could not include circumstances in his "Insanity Model" of saneness suspended by weights. Moreover, circumstances have limitations. Similar circumstances evoke different reactions in different people. So whether circumstances should be there in the model is a question in itself.

Jolted out of his reverie by the halting train, he realized he has reached his destination. He had just enough time to dump his open book into his bag and rush out before train started moving. Later he recalled, the only thing he remembered during this getting down was a smiling grey-haired gentleman with a baggage as big as his.

Once on the platform, a walk of 2 minutes he knew was where his home was and he had ennui for company. So he decided to go back to his thoughts but was interrupted by a hand asking for ticket. It was not in his pockets. His started looking into his bag which had remained open from the time he alighted. Fortunately he remembered his latest bookmark which was his ticket and proceeded to retrieve for it. A glint of metal caught his eye before falling in to his open bag. He jumped for it and before he knew in his hand he had a pistol . 

The metal was cold and it sat heavily in his hand. A feeling of being powerful swept through and he simply pointed the gun at the person who had dropped it. The ticket examiner (T.T.E) a portly fellow terrified, started screaming "Terrorists Terrorists". The gun owner was standing calmly. He now had both ennui and the gun for company. Still he wanted to explain, but the screaming remained unabated. A shot followed. Silence. A single hole in the middle of the forehead with blood trickling out and policemen running towards him was all he could remember. Probably boredom must be added as a factor to his pulley model, he thought sitting in the lonely cell. The only challenge now is how?

PS: Trying my hand at story-writing....hopefully it comes out sane :P