Once there lived two characters who talked to each other. They were homogenous to each other but heterogeneous to themselves, though they thought the opposite was true. They have no gender, no race, no face. They talked from the pores of their asymmetrical body. The pores are few in number. They regenerate every time one of the pores shuts it’s vault. One of them is arrogantly self-less and the other lifelessly excited at all times.
They have no names for each other. They just think of each other in absolute form. Obviously, they are not human but because they are conscious, they talk about human related stuff. The age old questions they have for life. For simplicity’s sake, we will call them A and B.
- You well rested?
- Nah, couldn’t fall asleep again. So, I read and read that letter I wrote for my future self.
- Awful. I guess you will perish sooner than me.
- Why do you think so? I will perish sooner for more pressing reasons than that.
- Sleep is a reset. You should listen to your body.
- Right. What about your sleep?
- I sleep regularly and always at fixed times. For me it’s the only space to co-exist with my past, present and future.
- Why would you want that? There is no past or present or future. These are constructions of our mind to not think about the awful sameness of life.
- I agree with you.
At this point, they feel uncomfortable because they cannot explain further.
- Yep, me too.
- Let us see who can reach that gate faster. I am tired of talking. Let’s run.
They run as fast as they can. But they can’t see the gate. They run and run. Still can’t see the gate. They are panting under their breath.
- Where is the gate?
- I don’t know. I am sure I saw it from where we were standing.
- You were hallucinating!!!
- Nooooo…. I guess… Well, the gate existed only in my mind.
- The gate doesn’t even exist? You pathetic, sleepy …(inaudible)
- Alright, then. Let us retreat to our usual positions.
They keep on talking about the purpose of life, the pursuit of truth and more.
- It is abominable to think that they decapitated our heads back in the ancient times.
- Yeah, we were thinking too much and doing nothing.
- That cannot be the reason. We still think because of our pores. Imagine the hardships they had to born in, to convey, to share.
- I kinda regret that these pores had to go through so much to gain consciousness even though they are highly flawed. They shouldn’t have existed in the first place!
- Yeah, guess so. Then how would one share ideas and convey stuff?
- They wouldn’t share. They would wait in their cold dens to perish.
- Right. But I can’t accept it.
- Don’t accept it.
- I accept it. Alright let us go. I am aching all over.
- Yes.
- Do you remember where’s your den this time?
- Obviously, I haven’t forgotten. You think I would drift again?
- Yes.
The first one goes to its den safely but the second one can’t. It drifts and drifts until it finds a space where a rat family lives. The rat family accepts it and let it sleep in their den.
These two characters talk when they meet. They meet every time their porous consciousness alerts them to meet as they can’t be isolated for too long.
They talk for an indefinite amount of time. They never reach to any conclusion. The more they whittle their inaccuracies to get at the truth, the closer they get to nullity. But the cyclical nature of their talk aides their longevity even though they both don’t want to live long.
One day they talked too much than their porous bodies allowed. A forced B to think of ‘nothing’. It is not possible to think of ‘nothing’. They knew they felt uncomfortable staying on the path of the incomprehensible. They tried but it obviously escalated.
So, they dropped to the ground in unison and died. Their bodies turned into white slime and the rat family feasted on them.
- ফারিহা রহমানhttps://www.thepapyrus.org/author/%e0%a6%ab%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%bf%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%be-%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%ae%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%a8/বৃহস্পতিবার, সেপ্টেম্বর ১৪, ২০২৩
- ফারিহা রহমানhttps://www.thepapyrus.org/author/%e0%a6%ab%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%bf%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%be-%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%ae%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%a8/বৃহস্পতিবার, অক্টোবর ১২, ২০২৩
- ফারিহা রহমানhttps://www.thepapyrus.org/author/%e0%a6%ab%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%bf%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%be-%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%ae%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%a8/বৃহস্পতিবার, অক্টোবর ১২, ২০২৩
- ফারিহা রহমানhttps://www.thepapyrus.org/author/%e0%a6%ab%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%bf%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%be-%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%ae%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%a8/বৃহস্পতিবার, নভেম্বর ৯, ২০২৩
- ফারিহা রহমানhttps://www.thepapyrus.org/author/%e0%a6%ab%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%bf%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%be-%e0%a6%b0%e0%a6%b9%e0%a6%ae%e0%a6%be%e0%a6%a8/বৃহস্পতিবার, ডিসেম্বর ১৪, ২০২৩