Kopachchan ***

A vehement objection. Now he knew what it meant. Always the altruist, he stooped to pick it up. Under the sole, the insect struggled to break free. It was alive and kicking. They always are. Especially in the autumn – the falling leaves have something to do with it. But what a spectacle? One could watch the scene for hours. And be fascinated by the intrigue. Drop by drop, inch by inch. It was relentless.

Kopachchan adjusted the goggles. It was almost dusk. But he could not chance it. He had to take the decision mow. An inexplicable tap on his shoulder startled him. Who could it be? At this hour? And at this God forsaken place? He dared not turn. So he let out the blood curdling scream. At the end of it he felt better. His hair stood on end. But he felt better. Eyes closed, he sat in the lotus position.

The insect struggled to break free. It was much more alive now. But the objection was even more vehement. Suddenly he went blank. Nothing. Just a blank whiteness. An endless beep. Was he dead? He could see vivid shapes. The light appeared blinding. The insect was miniscule, yet its every feature was clearly silhouetted. Kopachchan knew it. It was over. He sighed. And relaxed his grip. As he fell, time stood still. And at that very moment, the insect broke free. It fell too. Kopachchan could see the insect falling. It was just above him. Almost within reach. But he just watched. They fell in slow motion. It was a graceful dance. Almost gravity defying. And as the light dimmed, the water fell away. Clouds of cool moisture enveloped them. They were suspended in mid-air. Time and space stood still. Kopachchan's mind was a blank. He had no thought. He had ceased to exist.