Perfect World

Arvind was sick of the world which he lived in. And for a reason too. There was just far too much sadness for one planet to handle. Terrorism had made everyone paranoid. Global Warming had everyone sweating in pools. Corruption no longer affected the system, it WAS the system. Commercialization and consumerism had molested the romance in every little thing. As Arvind oft used to say, “ It’s all too fucked up!”

So one fine grossly insignificant afternoon, this boy, nay man, decided to hitch a ride out of this world. He drank a hot cup of black coffee (1 cube of sugar), played Lennon’s Imagine on his music player. Then he took consumed a dozen sleeping pills. Calmly then he took a blade and slit his wrists, and ankles for good measure. Then hanging off a noose, he shot himself in the head. It didn’t hurt that much. He left behind a suicide note:

“I hate the world.” Nice and short, innit?

Arvind woke up on a park bench. A clean white park bench; no pan spittle or crowshit or footmarks on it. Around was a strange land. It was all green, with rolling meadows and lush green trees. Little pink and yellow butterflies fluttered around. There were a dozen odd people around him, pretty people at that. Extremely pretty. Everyone looked like a million bucks. No pimples, scars, bruises, crow feet, wrinkles or anything. All the men were tall, well built and agile. All the women had dark long lustrous hair, curvaceous bodies, full lips, twinkling eyes …what not! The men and women wore the same loose semi transparent white robes. They all were laughing and running about like little kids. In fact some of them were acting pretty strange. There was a woman who kept pulling out a man’s heart. She’d do that, he’d fall on the floor apparently dead only to stand up again and give out a hearty laugh. Then the woman would do it again. There was a man who kept falling from the sky. He’d fall, then jump back up to the moon and then fall again. Most people though just sat around in the shades of the trees singing, dancing or looking at pretty pictures on a big TV screen.

“ Hello there, we’ve been expecting you…”, Arvind looked up to see a large black man towering over him. The man strangely resembled Morpheus from the Matrix. “ I see you’re taking a look around”, said the man as he seated himself beside Arvind.

“ Huh, what where am I , who are you?”

“Ah!”,exclaimed the black man, “ I though you’d have figured that out already! You are in Perfectland. We are all people who left earth behind to reach this place. You will find that this is the world you’ve dreamt about…”

“Huh?Wha?” Arvind replied like a retard.

“You’ll figure everything out very soon. I will take your leave now.”, the man said as he got up to leave.

“Wait.. what do I do here”

“Nothing. No one does anything here in Perfectland.You want anything, just think about it…it’ll appear before you.”

Saying that the man left leaving Arvind alone to figure the world out.

…………………….

Arvind was tired of perfect land!!!

It’s too perfect. He is just fucking sick of the place. True, there was no hate but then there was no love either. No sadness but then no one was happy. No fear, but then all excitement and adventure is lost. No pain, no sorrow. No one dies, no one lives. He had to get outta here …

There must be another place around that was normal, he had to find the way out. He thought of a car, soon a shiny red SUV presented itself before him. He jumped in and d away.

Arvind had been driving for hours now, in no particular direction. He is determined to find an exit. He steers as his mind asks him to…intuition will find him a way…or so he hopes. Eventually he dozes off at the wheel.

Arvind woke up to a deafening crash. The car had stopped. He got out to examine the damage. Surprisingly he’s unscathed…not even a scratch on his body . The car though was heavily damaged. It’s piled up against a score of other cars which seem to have crashed in to a wall. It’s a long wall…a long endless wall. No way over it, no way under it, no way around it.

Arvind sighed and noticed a sign board by the road.

“Welcome to Perfectland”, it read.

The sign was battered and was peeling off the board. Having nothing else to do, Arvind walked over to it and peeled the sign off.

Then he laughed like a madman.

“Welcome to Hell.”, it read, underneath.