The Stunned Queer Moment

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"And there was someone invisible who just pushed, and the girl fell into a large pit so deep that she waited ages to hit the bottom. When she did, she felt she had forgotten things. She didn't know who she was. She now had a quest ahead, a quest for two things. First one being to reach up to the ground from where she'd been pushed by nobody; and the second one being to find out who the hell she was exactly."

I seemed to hear that from a woman. Her voice was croaky, and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. I opened my eyes to nothing. It was dark. I could smell something so rotten, I blanched. Phew! I was suffocating. What a bad smell! Where was I? Why couldn't I see things? I had a bitter taste in my mouth from something liquid, maybe liquor or some medicine. I'd had this taste so long, I couldn't remember for how long. I felt I was going crazy.

I shut my eyes. A lot of people were talking, some even laughing. Someone was commenting badly about me. I couldn't see them. My eyes were shut, and I couldn't open them because someone was telling me, "Keep them shut, keep them shut, keep them shut." It became a sort of an order that I not open my eyes.

I didn't know if someone was splashing water on to my face or not. I felt like I was floating all this while. Then my face was dry and I felt it was covered by something granular, like mud. I just lay there listening to people talking about me. It felt like I was paralyzed and that I had stayed there for months. Then I had a tingling feeling that someone was coming my way to help me, for this person so strongly had that desire to help me. After that, I felt light.

"Eww! She's done it!" someone said. "Stinking puke!"

With my blurred vision, I couldn't see much. I fell asleep.

When I woke from this possible hangover — I didn't know if that was what this was or I was just claiming that it was; nothing made sense whatsoever, so it did not matter — I found myself on a rather large stone. A good portion of it was covered with mud and dry leaves, and it was uncomfortable with all those broken twigs and crunchy leaves poking my butt. I sat up, remaining there as dead as the dead leaves and as dead as the cold stone and as dead as the dead can be ... freak! I was scared now. How many times had I used the word dead? I reckoned I must have been paranoid about such stuff. There I was, quiet, the leaves rustling in the dry, cold wind of a lonely night. Then something happened. It took me some time to realize the feeling. It was pain. A sickening pain had shot up into my head. I clutched it as I felt the world spinning around me, even though I sat stationary in the same spot for what felt like ages now. There was something really wrong happening in my head. It was hurting so badly, hammering me to death!

Slowly, the spinning stopped, and I was okay, but then it started. There was a marathon of questions I could not help asking myself. What in this damn world was I doing here in the middle of the night? Why was I here? Where was my home? Where was I? Worst yet, who was I? I had to control my thoughts. I breathed in, one lengthy inhale, and then I was at it again. Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? What is my name? My name ... What is it? I was blank and I was scared and I was worried. How could I not remember me, my own self? How was it that I could make all these sentences in my mind and yet not remember a simple thing such as my name? It was the basic identity of everybody. There, I knew that, so why not my name? Incredible! I hit my head, taunting it and urging it to remember things about me. It simply did not respond.

I almost screamed when I felt someone touch me, but when I turned around, there was no one. What had just happened? And then I felt something crawling on my neck. I dusted it off, shook my head, and had gooseflesh pimples all over me. A little distance away a creeping bug fell onto the stone, hairy and filthy-looking creature. It crawled away into the darkness.

I looked around me slowly. My heart gave a thud, even though I knew very well that I was just looking at a tree in the night. Familiar things look scary at night. Strange ... so now my mind was being my own enemy. I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was being watched. I did not like it. My mind let me understand things around me, but it refused to let me know about myself. But why? I couldn't answer that, so why strain my already goofed-up brain? But still, knowing was necessary, and yet there was no one to let me know. I chucked that line of thought and continued observing the area around me. The place where I sat was not well-lit. There was a streetlight emitting orange light on the other side of the road, and that gave me enough light to identify things around me. The next streetlight was far, far away. There was a thick growth of trees behind my back. Damn! Now the chills ran down my spine. I did not want to look back again. One quick view was dark and ghoulish enough for me!

I turned to face the road, which was empty. There wasn't any tar put on it, just the plain muddy road. I tried to recall ever seeing before a place such as this one. I tried to imagine it when there was sunlight. It was a tough thing to do. I could not imagine it that well. In fact, I couldn't imagine it even a bit, in a proper manner. Hate you, mind!

I turned my head to my left and now noticed a line of benches placed far from each other until the end of the road ... which was all dark. I couldn't figure out where the road began or ended. I felt like the darkness was going to swallow me. I did not want to look there anymore. I turned my head to my right, and I almost screamed. A body lay on the bench closest to me. I calmed myself down and looked again. There was someone there, sleeping.

Since I had just woken, I did not know how long the person had been there. What was the last thing I did before I ended up here? Error in image formation, my brain responded. No data found. Darn! All right, I knew I had to give myself some time, a minute or two to suppress my worries and fear and all those sounds and noises from the thoughts in my head. Then all the things I had to know would come to me.

Curse that pain! It had shot up again. I clutched my head like I was holding someone who was falling off a cliff. Wow, I could make up analogies, but not remember my name. How screwed up was that? When I tried hard to think about me, the pain in my head got nasty. I did not know when I started crying, but within seconds I was wailing. Nothing else made sense. It was out of my control. I was crying so loudly, I knew I was really helpless and I felt bad for myself. And still there were these noises in my head, questioning and taunting me because I could not answer.

"Help me!" I muttered as the drops of tears creased my cheeks. Whom was I asking for help? I felt the spinning in my head, and then it occurred to me: God. But which god did I pray to? I cried even more loudly. This was pathetic.

Temple ... I saw in my imagination a blurry image of a temple. So many deities in India. Thank you, mind, for tipping in this fact, but no thanks for getting me nowhere. I had this filmy feeling that it had been ages since I had been to any temple at all. And the last time I had been there, I had fought with the god. Which god was that?

I strained my mind to recollect. Don't act silly, you silly mind! You can't act as if you've forgotten the god I used to pray to. I felt so hopeless and frustrated. Bloody, I did not know my own name. I hit my head twice. Remember, remember. Nothing occurred. I cried more, almost pulling my hair out. I must have been as drunk as a crackpot ... but I did not even remember if I had had anything to drink. I knew that people acted crazy when their conscious minds were out of their control.

Hmmm. I knew facts. In fact, it occurred to me that I seemed to know a lot of things that I ought to know, except the things like my name, the place I belonged, what I did for a living, what was my past? It all fell out of place. Why was I in this situation? Why me of all people? Whom do I ask for help now, because I knew that when you asked a god for help, you didn't get it instantaneously. At least, that was what I felt. Perhaps this applied to me. If I could think about and remember all these things, why wasn't I able to recollect the host of other things I desperately wanted to know? I felt like I was up to something big, like unraveling a mystery, finding out something that was hidden ... What was that? The more I forced my mind to remember things, the more things went blank. I buried my face in my hands and began crying my heart out.

"What should one do in life to sleep without hearing this annoying, out-of-rhythm sobbing out here?"

I panicked. I lifted my head up and saw this — this ... was this a human or an abominable caveman? I had to think for a while before I could describe him. He looked alien-like. He had messed-up springy hair. As this happened to not be a sunny day, I couldn't see his features clearly. All that kept me from looking anywhere else was that huge mass of unkempt hair on his head. It looked like a lot of twigs and springs had been stuck together in a clumsy manner, and gave him the appearance of an abnormally large head of random shape. I wiped my eyes to get a better look at him, in case I knew him. Or perhaps he knew me. That would end my confusion. He yawned and looked ugly, wiped his eyes, and yawned again. Did I know a fellow who happened to be a descendent of bears, with thick eyebrows of some nondescript shade that I couldn't be sure of in this poor lighting? All the hair on his head and face was of that same shade; this I could make out. Did I know anybody who had a mustache and beard growing hand-in-hand like this, with the beard almost reaching his chest? Someone who wore ... a robe? Perhaps it was black or some other color in a deep shade. And ... sneakers? He looked so odd! A long robe and sneakers. And that beard. Did I know anybody who was a weirdo having a bad-hair day?

I was blank. He went back to his bench and adjusted a large, shapeless something.

So he did not know me; otherwise, he would have spoken to me and said my name. He was such a heartless guy. Here I was crying out loud, and he came over just to ask me to shut up so that he could sleep. He didn't even ask what was wrong or if I needed help. Darn! What sorts of people existed in this world? What sort of person was I? I could bet I was not so careless about people in distress! I could hear him snoring already. By the look of him, he certainly was a weirdo, and now he had proved it. I was feeling so bad, helpless, and I was not even allowed to cry the way I wanted. What sort of a punishment was this?

I heard a howling, and God, that was scary! I straightened up and looked around. The howling was followed by a bark that was followed by another howl, and the intensity of the sound started to increase. I got up and walked toward the weirdo. I didn't know what else I should be doing. I knew that the barking and howling was coming from my left, somewhere along the inner turns of the many roads that connected to the road I was on. Should I just climb up a tree and sit in it without making any noise? I was really freaked out! I seemed not to like dogs in the first place, and a barking and howling dog was scaring me silly. What would happen now? I wondered as I stood quite close to the fellow sleeping his heart out, who probably didn't even hear the barking and the howling. I stood like a statue as I saw four dogs approaching. They were all barking and howling and running about ferociously, like they owned the road. They were now sniffing around and — Holy cow, they seemed to pick up my scent. One dog looked at me, right into my eyes. Freak! I didn't even blink; I was really scared. It growled and seemed to signal to the other three dogs. This was it, I thought. The end.

Just then I heard some coughing. It wasn't the caveman I had just met, but an old man on the road. The dogs all went to him, surrounding him in a friendly manner, and then they resumed looking at me and growling in that warning you sort of tone.

"Shit!" I muttered, though I was sure I squeaked.

The old man apparently was smoking. He puffed in and coughed again. He had wrapped himself in a worn-out blanket that fell to his knees, which were a part of a pair of thin, shaky legs that seemed unfamiliar with footwear. The skin was so roughened, I could see that even from this distance. In profile he looked like a distorted hook, as he had a hunchback. He puffed away and coughed again.

Please, old man, take your dogs away. Please! I prayed.

The dog that was ahead of the lot was now in a position to jump on me. Everything after this happened like a sneeze, quick and done before I could realize. I got off the ground, saying no to the help the caveman offered. I reckoned him to be a sadhu baba, walking the streets, preaching things he did not know. He had opened his holy eyes just in time when the dog had leapt up. As I stared in sheer fright, he took his bag — the huge, shapeless one he was using as a pillow — and hit the dog with it at the right time, so that the dog fell back and ran back to its mates and the owner, whining. Taken by surprise by his sudden actions, I lost my balance and fell. The old man gave my savior a grim look. The dogs began to bark at us both, brave with their master beside them and at a safe distance from us and the man's heavy bag. Carrying his bag, the caveman took a few steps toward the old man and his dogs in a I'm-challenging-you manner. The old man muttered something foul, puffed in and coughed out, and began walking away, calling out for his dogs to follow him. The man in a bear's form came back. He looked at me and I looked at him, and then I looked at the old man. He was a decent distance from us, and he had stopped and was looking at us. No, he was looking at me. He appeared as if he was looking through me! And his dogs were all looking at us too. Following my line of sight, the man who saved me turned back and gave a nasty look at the dogs and their master. After that, the vagabonds went on, leaving us both wondering about things we did not know.

"Thank you," I said after we had passed that brief moment of awkwardness when we did not know what to do or say.

He just nodded and looked at me as if he wanted to ask me something, but then he changed his mind and readjusted his bag again as his pillow. He lay down and made a gesture that meant I should be leaving him to his solitude. What a weird guy! He cut my image out of his eyes by shutting them and turning away from me.

"Loser!" I muttered, despite the fact that he had saved me from the ferocious dog attack.

I guess I did not like being treated like this. Basically, it seemed to me that I did not like being ignored. So what if he had knocked that dog away at the right time? He was not being nice to me now. Anyway, what would I gain from this hairy being? He certainly was not someone who could sit around and listen to my story and help me out. My story would be, I am somebody I do not know. I do not know how I ended up here. I don't even know which place this is. I don't know these vital things about me, but outlandishly I know many other things. When I try to remember anything about me, I get this sickening headache and nothing out of my mind. So, where do I begin?

I sat where I had found myself sitting when I came to. Did I just see the bush across the road move? Maybe it was due to the wind. Yeah, it must have been that sort of swirly wind that passes by, concentrating only on one particular area.

Now to get back to thinking. What was my name? I hit my head hard for the nth time. Ouch! That hurt me, but it did not get me any information. How was I supposed to know my own self now? What was a way out? Did I carry with me anything at all that could help me remember? Had I been robbed? I did not see anything around me like a bag or a book. Okay, this was a good thinking. Go ahead, brain. Think more. I searched the pocket of the coat I was wearing. There was nothing in there, but somehow the coat seemed heavy on me. I ran my hand across the coat itself. There was something on the inside of the coat that wasn't a part of my body. I put my hand into the inner part of the coat and found an opening. I was now excited. I would soon solve this mystery about me. As I dug in, I thought of what name I could have. What names could I remember If not mine, at least anybody's? Did I remember anyone I knew?

Hollow. I felt cold, and then I felt something crawling on my hand when I was trying to get that something out of the coat. I immediately withdrew my hand; there was nothing on it.