A Dirty Story
A Dirty Story
Did you notice that contaminated water lying at the bottom?
Oh! you must be wondering where?
In a yellow plastic bucket with jet black spots and jade black indistinguishable patterns – patterns made by continuous and careless throwing of garbage.
And those tiny hydrophobic molecules of oil floating on the transparent plastic bag,
In that blue plastic bucket with broken handle and cracks on few of its two dimensional surfaces – surfaces whose walls had oil droplets dripping.
Over colored and discolored food particles – probably the leftovers of some delicious delicacies – some mouth watering munchies – whose remains may no longer help you identify the original preparation.
Color takes me to the bright colored but brutally torn sachets of various chewing tobacco preparations with sweet or savory flavorings – whose one end might be having a burning affair with the filter of a used cigarette.
The brand of the pseudo tranquilizer and slow toxin is half visible and half burnt, surrounded by eco-friendly walls of tea cups with a portion of the same having a color one shade darker – probably the tea touched the surface with affection.
Did you miss the bright yellow banana peel, pathetically peeled – look pale?
Look next to the blue plastic bucket.
Can you not see the multi dirt colored white bucket, half broken and half filled; a part of which is peel frilled?
Someone was weeping.
Who could it be?
Look around and you will see an empty packet, gaping.
Empty packet of a contraceptive pill.
Shouting. The very next moment.
Or may be expressing disgust?
Or may be anguish?
You did not care to interpret and turned around to walk. Walk away from the garbage.
You take one step only to step on something red. Freshly red. Liquid red.
You lift your right leg to take a look at the sole of the wrong shoe. Shoe which painted its sole red.
Fresh spit of a chewed betel leaf.
Oh wait! Did you miss the blushing pink color that is produced when saliva spit and betel spit is mixed?
You enjoy such sights right?
Imagine walking on a scarlet spit carpet with cigarette leftovers enhancing the aesthetic aspect of the whole environment.
Someone is heavily breathing.
You are in jitters now. Completely unsure of who else is there?
Someone shouts. Words unclear. Pain clear.
With a voice so shrill, and a tone so rude. So unkind.
You throw the packet in your hand.
Empty, oily and green in color – adding to the greenery around you.
You suddenly spot a distorted and used sanitary napkin.
Semi-blooded. Cotton costumed.
You recognize the voice.
The same empty pill packet was crying. Shouting. Crying. And the cycle goes on.
The charred memories of a night in its heart.
But that was not the worst part.
The paper with letters printed on it – inked on it – was lying on the foot pedal of a dustbin.
The same paper which has enlightened your general knowledge is now thrown away, generally.
May be one of your acquaintances tried to aim and throw the crumbled paper.
Failed. Failed because the dustbin had foot pedals. Throwing from a distance won't help. Right?
The empty glass bottle of soft drinks were the silent witness to these happenings.
The smelly organic cakes will help you learn the techniques of walking down a busy road.
A road that is dirtier. Smelliest.
Things are getting out of hand.
Tiny warriors are swooping on you.
Colourful polymers and dead tissues making a move.
Pouncing on you is wasted waste.
Twisted and tangled hair strands strangling you.
You are frozen. Unable to move. Unable to act.
Cold. Numb. Shocked.
Choking your breath.
Transparent plastic bags on your mouth.
Blocking your nostrils.
Breathe. You try to breathe.
Dirt causes death. Unwanted.
Take a breath. You are still breathing.
A dreadful dream.
Before you die a dirty and horrifying death,
Get up and choose cleanliness.
Get up and choose healthiness.