Cynicism zindabad

Cynicism is so common place these days that I have begun to believe it is being overrated. I’m a cynic, but it disturbs me when I see a host of people like me. I’d like some exclusivity, at the risk of asking for too much. So, it really annoys me when I keep bumping into people who sound like me, make the same remarks and pick on the same things. What are we being cynical about? Are we sceptical about our jobs, our relationships, our neighbours or our dear politicians? In short, about life itself. I’d hate to take away the charm it holds by dissecting the term, but I was just idly wondering where the hell we are headed. Seems like dissatisfaction is the latest among the most sought-after destinations. Makes me feel great on good old Independence Day.

Alive

A drool here and some dabbing, and then some more. A fleeting moment of consciousness. He registered his surroundings and switched off the moment he saw everything was just the same.

"Are you alright?" "Do you know where you are?" He had never been able to understand why most of humanity was so stupid. Stupid enough to ask "in-your-face" obvious questions. "Are you in too much pain?" Now that is something....is it possible to quantify pain? "I am in pain...there's enough pain for...well....there is more than I need at the moment, glad to pass it along." All along, the masochist in him defiant-screaming, smirking and almost enjoying the moment.

The anaesthesia. The dilemma was killing him. Anaesthesia seemed like an inviting and logical option, but he froze the moment he thought of a life without pain. Heck, might as well get one of those beastly lethal injections. The pain was the only anaesthetic...he could feel it settling in that slow way a chill sets in. It was a comfortable blanket, the one you can't do without when you are at home. Another rendezvous with consciousness. That little tryst with sanity.

And then the ever punctual alarm shrieked away....it was time for him to switch off and get past the day.