The Clock

The clock in my room had stopped ticking sometime back. Two weeks after everyone stopped bothering me to change the batteries, I bought one and brought the clock down to replace the old one.

It was a sad affair. I hadn’t realised how much the water-soaked wall behind it had eaten it up. It has fungi all over its back. The old battery had junk on it spreading around it. Even the expensive piece of wreck around it had decayed. It would stop ticking forever one of these days.

I am like that old decayed clock. Everyone looks at the nice front that hasn’t changed in years and thinks that everything is the same as ever. So much has changed with me in the last four years, neither for better nor worse, and nobody perceives. I drag myself through these days pretending to be my old self so that I do not have to deal with anyone.

The fundamental change is this – I don’t care about anyone any more. Perhaps I do, but I don’t feel it anyway. Long time since I have stopped being appalled by my apathy.

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Incorrigible Introvert

I wouldn't pretend I have a worthy tale to tell, I have only the ramifications of a twisted mind to sell.
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3 Responses to The Clock

  1. Preyas says:

    Change is inevitable. Everything that lives, decays and dies. A man is a fool who doesn’t go up Mt. Fuji or goes up twice.

  2. achal says:

    lol…are there fungi growing in you posterior?

  3. @preyas
    darn man, I like the Mt. Fuji bit so well! Did you come up with it all by yourself?!

    though I guess there are things that you would want to happen to you more than once. but anyway the piece was about the contrast between the self and its projection! :)

    @achal
    :D

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