He is going. Going. Going. Dodging everyone on the road. He doesn’t care for the rain that is stinging his face like little devilish ants. It is relentless, yet he doesn’t care.

He breaks one signal after the other. He doesn’t care for the whistling policeman. He keeps going, as if being possessed by some evil spirit. He let’s his mind wander for a while. He thinks about what he will do once he reaches there. Suddenly, he hears an elephant, oh no wait, it was a truck honking from the opposite direction.

Immediately he realizes that he is on the wrong side of the road. What to do? What to do? There is nothing much he can do now. The truck driver is honking madly and shouting profanities at him. He tells him to stop but he can’t. He was too close. He BREAKS. And tries to dodge. His bike skids. He falls on the road and his body slides like a person skating on ice. Only painful. His clothing comes off his body one by one. It was as if he was stuck in a churning machine or something. Finally he hits a pole and stops. He felt a high, as if he just had booze. The white bare flesh started turning red, like the sky in twilight. He sees people surround him. The fact that they weren’t doing anything, but watching him go away was giving him pleasure.   

He slowly started moving. He was going where he wanted to. He thought of what he was going to say when he reached there. Finally reaching there, he said to God, ‘I want to sleep in my mother’s lap again. I want her to tell me that I am the nicest boy in the whole wide world again. I want her to put me to sleep again. I want to see her again’.