a missing page from Moth Smoke
Lost in trying to put the pieces back together, Daru zones out during the lecture, only to drowsily zone back in again. Turning on, tuning in, and dropping out. Turning on, tuning in, and dropping out. Its about Islam. Its about religion. Show some respect. You shouldn't squander your parents' money like so. Ozi can afford to, he's got a rich dad. He can afford to buy all those fancy gifts for Mumtaz, treat her to all the happening restaurants. You're just wasting yourself away, frying your brain, ignoring opportunity as it stares you in the face.
Sometimes you regret not doing what Murad did, don't you?
Doth ye not, oh ye of altered perceptions?
He was right there, on his motorbike, outside your house before he started it all. You could've been right there, at his side, playing in the millions. Knowing you, an important man, destined to the powers-that-be. Someone who could call the shots. Someone who with power and money..
Sometimes you regret not doing what Murad did, don't you?
Doth ye not, oh ye of altered perceptions?
He was right there, on his motorbike, outside your house before he started it all. You could've been right there, at his side, playing in the millions. Knowing you, an important man, destined to the powers-that-be. Someone who could call the shots. Someone who with power and money..
Like Ozi?
No, fool.
Like his father..
No, fool.
Like his father..
What do you do when you get back? Turn on, tune in, and drop out.
Is that why you're really here? Is that your reason?
Haven't there been enough close-callswhen're you going to start taking things seriouslyithought you were sick and tired of how things were always almost uncertain.
Is that why you're really here? Is that your reason?
Haven't there been enough close-callswhen're you going to start taking things seriouslyithought you were sick and tired of how things were always almost uncertain.
wait...
did the voices just overlap?
theyve started gettinglouder.
theyve started gettinglouder.
paranoia
Never see it walking in, can you? A lot of people are talking, but you can't make sense of anything they say. You know its kicking in. You tune in a smile on your face, your sickly eyes closing a little bit more, but a little bit less. The world is red, my friend. Whitelights and yellowlights, piercing shines and mellow shines. You're hooked on this. You'll give up everything for this one day...
What if i had taken the chance? Daru contemplates and procrastinates about an alternate modus operandi. Had he accepted Murad's offer, he would have been Badshah. Not Murad. Murad's not smart enough to end up anything more than a rickshaw driver. It could have been you..
It was the cold winter season. Lahore's weather could never be so unpleasant, but the mist was bordering on the thin precipice between beauty and bitter. Everyone had come home from abroad for the holiday season. Raider was back, and his party for new years' would be under preparation. All they have to worry about is having a good time.
When do you ever worry about that, Daru?
Ever? While sitting in the garden, watching the green grass, the blue roses and the haze?
Did you ever feel angry about throwing it all away?
Did you ever get angry about seeing the pieces fit...?
He takes the cigarette out from the pack, the action harmless. One may be concerned with how he's holding the cigarette; not the right way to initiate the smoking process. Probably trying to light it a different way, he proceeds to caress the paper encasing the tobacco with a lucid, soft flame. A while later, he licks the cigarette, and proceeds to peel off one side of the paper with quintessential skill. He empties the tobacco - still in a single file, just as if it were untouched and intact inside the cigarette. The paper is torn off the filter, which is put aside. Probably for further use, probably not. Daru, scrutinizing the tobacco with one hand, entails the use of a deformed paper clip to burn the hash, which he later inserts into the tobacco and mixes vigorously. Somewhere in the background, the a'zaan sounds.
Inbetween all of which, Daru turns on.
He tunes in.
And then, he drops out.
He covers a cylindrical portion of the cigarette filter with smoking paper, and fills it with the ingredients cooked earlier. Once the mixture has been fully inserted, Daru rolls a full circle round the paper, and licks the glued end of the smoking paper to ensure a tight fix. Tapping it on his nail once or twice, pressing its structure while sliding up his fingers, it was ready.
Pass the lighter, the actor yells from on stage. A diligent audience member rises to the ocassion. The muse of his addiction firmly in his hands, the music of his Gnostic contemplation now echoing the corridors of infamy. Once again, Daru will turn on.
He will tune in.
And drop out..
Never see it walking in, can you? A lot of people are talking, but you can't make sense of anything they say. You know its kicking in. You tune in a smile on your face, your sickly eyes closing a little bit more, but a little bit less. The world is red, my friend. Whitelights and yellowlights, piercing shines and mellow shines. You're hooked on this. You'll give up everything for this one day...
What if i had taken the chance? Daru contemplates and procrastinates about an alternate modus operandi. Had he accepted Murad's offer, he would have been Badshah. Not Murad. Murad's not smart enough to end up anything more than a rickshaw driver. It could have been you..
It was the cold winter season. Lahore's weather could never be so unpleasant, but the mist was bordering on the thin precipice between beauty and bitter. Everyone had come home from abroad for the holiday season. Raider was back, and his party for new years' would be under preparation. All they have to worry about is having a good time.
When do you ever worry about that, Daru?
Ever? While sitting in the garden, watching the green grass, the blue roses and the haze?
Did you ever feel angry about throwing it all away?
Did you ever get angry about seeing the pieces fit...?
He takes the cigarette out from the pack, the action harmless. One may be concerned with how he's holding the cigarette; not the right way to initiate the smoking process. Probably trying to light it a different way, he proceeds to caress the paper encasing the tobacco with a lucid, soft flame. A while later, he licks the cigarette, and proceeds to peel off one side of the paper with quintessential skill. He empties the tobacco - still in a single file, just as if it were untouched and intact inside the cigarette. The paper is torn off the filter, which is put aside. Probably for further use, probably not. Daru, scrutinizing the tobacco with one hand, entails the use of a deformed paper clip to burn the hash, which he later inserts into the tobacco and mixes vigorously. Somewhere in the background, the a'zaan sounds.
Inbetween all of which, Daru turns on.
He tunes in.
And then, he drops out.
He covers a cylindrical portion of the cigarette filter with smoking paper, and fills it with the ingredients cooked earlier. Once the mixture has been fully inserted, Daru rolls a full circle round the paper, and licks the glued end of the smoking paper to ensure a tight fix. Tapping it on his nail once or twice, pressing its structure while sliding up his fingers, it was ready.
Pass the lighter, the actor yells from on stage. A diligent audience member rises to the ocassion. The muse of his addiction firmly in his hands, the music of his Gnostic contemplation now echoing the corridors of infamy. Once again, Daru will turn on.
He will tune in.
And drop out..
All Rights Reserved - Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.
[Dysfunction Timestamp]
Shemrez had writer's block at 5:27 AM
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