Moksha Terminal XIV (The Serpent)

‘Fuck!’

‘This hurts man!’

I sat with my friend in the tattoo parlor as the tatoo artist pierced his skin with different colors to create a serpent. He had paid him for doing it on his back and met him for an appointment. My friend had a sudden idea to sport a tattoo with some message on his body.

It was a huge serpent with a wide gaping mouth.. fangs which looked like medical syringes. The serpent was stuck inside a monstrous cage of thorns. The text LIBERTY was written in bold, below the serpent. ‘Hurt art’ I thought.. the artist had just started with his work. I admired his passion for the art.. the
artist continued piercing my friend’s skin with a sharp needle while a serpent slowly took form, midst much complaints from my friend.

‘watch out man.. I am alive! I know you have guys waiting outside..’

‘No man,’ said the tattoo artist, ‘I do not hurry man.. not me!’

The studio was small.. with vintage posters of Motely Crue and Cabaret Voltaire hanging on the walls.. on the walls and the ceiling was a big art of a marijuana leaf stretching from a corner to the other.

Looking around, I pick up the days newspaper lying open next to my seat. Not because I had been such a great reader of newspapers since my childhood or anything, though I knew that newspapers
were essential to build up a child’s IQ. This one I picked up to avoid myself the further torment of watching my friend writhe in pain from the art which was slowly progressing on his body. I had
somehow stayed with newspapers, but fully not for building an IQ.

Now that all newspapers follow the same format made them plain boring.They just had odd headlines and weird stories, which nobody cared about much, other than talk in an informed manner on the daily
hangups of the world. Truth be spoken.. we were incapable! We suffered silently!

I surfed the pages disinterestedly, with the prior assumption that everything is not right with the country I stayed in or in any land that calls itself a country. Had everything been perfect.. what would have people read as news??

I checked the ads of course, the discounts and the glamour pages. Man! they looked real perfect in their sections, secluded from the disturbing things that were written around on the other
sections. A real good contrast to the news being published of an other world.

The local news pages were abuzz with complaints, missing people, and sale adverts. Inside a tiny column was a news item which reported of terrorists being held captive from the very place
where we were living.

Hostiles nabbed by city police, it screamed inside a tiny box..

Hardcore militants who somehow sneaked from their camps into the busy city to cause mayhem and hold the country for ransom.. the gist of the news.

‘Police has nabbed three militants from our place who were connected to the bomb blasts and the attack on the PM’s convoy.’ I cut a dialogue after a short interval.

‘See man, I can’t say anything from here.’ my friend replies painfully disinterested from his position of sleep. The artist keeps slowly working on his back.

‘this is incredible.. I personally know two of them,’ I replied. ‘I meet them almost everyday.’

‘Shhh! why do you want to get involved in trouble brother? You better not know them now, when they are all in print as terrorists.. Ahh! watch out!’

An evident answer.. I thought.

‘I won’t be paying for the newspaper subscription anymore.. I am not buying this shit,’ I spoke after a momentous pause.

‘Why?’

‘This is actually.. incredible!’

‘Why bother? But then, we don’t fight for discount coupons any more bro.’

‘Cool! But.. millitants were planning to hold the country for ransom..isn’t that something monstrous? A nation? The guys were only students.’

‘Cool bro! You get so serious about these things! You are part of a nation, no matter how shitty it might be..it takes care of our security. I feel safer after reading that news man!’

The tattoo artist adds, ‘I pay taxes man. I need to be saved from from my enemies. We’re citizens!!’

‘I mean.. the nation is a spider’s web…’ ‘It works against interests to meet interests..’.

‘demarcation.. isn’t that what you mean? Its not quiet possible to rule the globe as a whole..’

‘isolation.. what else..?’

‘Hmm.. and once isolated, you can be colored anything they want you..’ the tattoo artist adds.

‘exactly!!.. ouch!!’.. the syringe pokes my friend who raised himself in excitement.

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