On Seeing Death
Wealth is one important catalyst in survival of nations. Every inch of a nation's body is helplessly dependent on good economy, and good economy means wealth in simple tongue. You get businesses, high erected buildings and decorated offices- all for nothing? This is an outrageous run for money. The insanity is doubled, for each lusty and greedy soul out there. For money, you can take lives and deprive people from their fundamental rights. Professor Mark's economist mind has all the virtual, some real, images of his whole life. His hands are held firmly on his wounds, to stop bleeding. He appears motionless and waits for his death. No one is around at these early hours on a Friday morn; a sheep, an empty bus, a blood covered body, a hooker, and city vultures are all there. One cry of "Another victim of wealth" sweeps the air and flies.
"Switch on the TV."
"Why? What happened?"
"Another storm is heading our way. A category 5 hurricane, 50 feet high waves and it looks annoyed."
"Oh lord! What we gonna do now? "
"Nothing. Lets wait for the destiny written for us."
"Can't we run? There is still time."
"Humph- run? From what- There is no time mate. Evacuation paths are all closed, we are late."
"I am feeling scared, is this bad thing? I hate to die so young. No telephone, power will be out soon, what else my senses can bear. "
"Be calm and face the fate with chin up. Okay?"
"Okay- If I faint don't tell anyone that I was a coward. "
The approaching fate is minutes away, another weather tragedy.
The train moves like a snail and runs like a cheetah by picking pace. The passenger compartments are loaded with human flesh and inhuman things. The train driver looks at the horizon, his most favorite scenes. The yellowish sunlight is dipping in to sky blue color, making it reddish and ...
"Blood in the sky," he yelled. He looks embarrassed at his action, and cautiously observes his surroundings. The regular "Chhhh-pkkk, Chhhh-pkkkhhh" noises of friction between the train reels and iron can be heard. The air is disturbing his hairs.
"Why is it so peaceful today? A lonely cabin this is- wooden chalks, bugle button, old and rusty windows and complex sinusoidal curve meters and lights on dashboard; why is there no stirring outside? What a pity!"
A jerk in engine makes him stop the train. He applied full brakes. This was kind of a great push under the cabin. The train fights against inertia and stops, in a total barren land, sun setting and mystic presence in the air. He jumps put, and bends to see what happened. A headless body is thrashed right beneath his cabin, near the brakes. He looks frightened, his face turns pale with scare and he looks nervously here and there.
To his greatest surprise, he sees not one alive soul in the whole train. They are scattered in compartments like dead flies, lying in an abstract manner. He is unsure about his own existence; he recalls the normal ride today.
What the hell happened? I am driving a "train of dead people", such dumbness and stupidity. How did they die? He looks again at the sky, "Blood in the sky," he yelled. The supernatural Bermuda triangle theory worked on my train...
"Vultures- Vultures stop eating 'em. Your long necks that pierce into carcasses, cutting the slippery fats, eating the intestines and delicious meat, hovering eyes are your talent and you are nature's dustbin."
The vultures look at each other. Where did that voice come from? They look at each other.
"Vultures-Vultures stop eating 'em. They are laying in a harmless way, under the blazing sun, death smiles and they are eaten by you. This young girl, terry, what a beauty was she! All beauty must go to the one who sent it. The beauty is gone, soul is left the body is forlorn. Harm her no more, give her a proper burial. Can you?"
The vultures wink at each other and keep eating.
"Vultures-Vultures stop eating 'em. This professor Mark was the great economist of his country. A bone of wealth had him all along. Yay! This gray haired man was noble in character, evil in spirit. You know not of his genius mind, and look at the lust and wealth avarice, greed brought him here. Eaten by you, did he never fear?"
The vultures now fight over skull of Professor Mark. A Longest neck vulture, the biggest of them all, breaks the skull and jumps in joy.
"Vultures-Vultures stop eating 'em. Death is a strongest player in man's fate. The sun is a strong character in nature's trait. These two men, trapped by water, died in water are like a fearful mouse caught in trap. They heed no escape, have no guts to confront and were killed upfront. Look at this train driver! Your eyes are blurry with his blood; he was one thinker of unknown. What supernatural train did he drive and what a bloody ride did it become! You have no idea; this flesh is flesh of fair man- who had no sin to his credit, but the sin of "over reaching."
The vultures finish their job and quietness prevails again.
Death is a strong character in man's fate. The sun, the railway lines, barren lands are just building a scene of death. Mystery is another supernatural error.
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© 2017 Kashif Ali Abbas