the price of being worthless.....is surprisingly high!

darkness ... the face....

A flash, murmurings, a scream, piercing noises the ones you usually hear when your neighbor's kids pretends to be a cop with a realistic toy gun.. how is it.. looking around in the dark hall seeing smoke and a masked joker face. How..? baam.. pain searing through his body.. groping in the dark to check for his friends.. feeling bodies some breathing some damp.. am i.. is this... end?.. slipping..slipping into darkness a much profound one than which he was leaving..

“mom can i get the batman balloon?!”  his mom smiling down on him “oh ok.. i will get you one!. C’mon we are getting late”. Mom and the kid hoped off hurriedly into the crowd as it swayed towards the hall doors and the face of the batman bubbling  up and down among the many heads... lights dimmed and the starting credits rolled into the movie..scared of the dark he holds his mom’s hands,she pats his head reassuringly... a flash,a smoke, murmurings, baam baam , screams , the kid clenches the hand, never came the pat, nor came the whispered reassurances.. through the smoke he saw a mask.. a joker...  he lay their shocked to silence clenching his perforated batman balloon and his mothers fingers in his two little fists...... 

tu bole glass adha khali... main bolu adha bhara...

some of the most simplest of the sentences conveys the most complex of the feelings..

Mr. Edward Magorium: [to Molly, about dying] When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior to the words.
[pause, walks over to Molly]
Mr. Edward Magorium: I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died."
Molly Mahoney: [starting to sob] I love you.
Mr. Edward Magorium: I love you, too.
[picks Molly up, sighs heavily]
Mr. Edward Magorium: Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.