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Tuesday, March 26, 2013

The Fortune of the Misfortune

If the grain of the misfortune is already sown in the field of our name, it is destined to grow one day with the click of the clock. Escapism is the rarest breed that one can afford to buy with the currency of our luck.
It was Sunday, seventh of October, twenty twelve. A piece of day in the calendar of my stay here that printed a seal of misfortune in the pages of my live, lived and to be lived.
The short circuiting melted my one year old LCD which till date fed me with the songs of the current global affairs. To my utter despair, half of the used-to-be magnificent screen mirrored to be the best worst electronics I have ever seen.
The cruel hands of the inferno had an extraordinary length of courage that it grabbed one of my friends scanning machine into a roasted ball of carbon. The flame had danced with the contemporary steps over the carpeted floor of my room, thereby ignoring the presence of few minute electronics. Their fate was ruined with the wind of its strength that it completely lost its genetic shape and size.
And fortunately, as its song of the smoke danced out of the door of my curtained window, it accidentally pulled the trigger of hairs inside the nasal chambers of the people around.
These pollens of smell ought to be the synonymy of pheromone that pushed the neighours into a single file to the direction of my house like a congress of ants. At that moment, the closeness of bunch of ladies became the furthest strength to strangulate the fuming flame inside my room, since their timid hearts were engulfed by the tentacles of fear and panic.
But with the life of their cry, it towed the crowd of archers who became the heroes in the fire battlefield. The fibre of their muscles were put into an acid test that they assassinated the flames like an infuriated Brutus killing Julie Caesar. Their might echoed the famous Marcus Brutus’s line: It is not that I “loved Caesar less,” but that I “loved Rome more” as in the process of putting the fire off, it involved making my windows nude, breaking door and soaking my entire bedroom. 
After I reached the scene, I lost some hours to knit the wool of my courage to believe what has really happened. Thank God, I gave a huge sigh of cry that it only injured me and saved the life and hard-earned property of fellow mates. Keep aside casting the casualties, the fire ignored to impair rest of anything other than mine. It sent me a thrill of message that fortune comes at the cost of misfortunes as well.
[Actually, the article was supposed to be posted on 7th October 2012 but failed. I was not able to log into my blog]

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