When Death Blows You a Kiss: Musings of a Car Crash

Encounters. How many times have they humbled you? Showed you without uttering a word how useless life is in the face of death? An ungainful fury.

On the faithless day, it starts off all plush and shine, nothing out of the ordinary. Lazy limbs are bundled into the bathroom then, later donned on with the comfortable and casual or the blinking and heavy depending on preference or situational demand.

Finding yourself outside, by the road side, you lunge into the taxi. That taxi. Le ill fated. Taking a deep breath, you relax at the space traffic offered you. A half hour’s ride; a little grace, a little window, a little opportunity to mind-prep for office work.

The mad world nabs at the driver and his vehicle as he snakes through trials and tribulations while “special” commuters who neglect trafficators for a living have a swell time giving you mini heart attacks. But you survive.

The one with no sign whatsoever eventually pops out. It is a tale told within a flash; a young boy of spoilt means with an SUV on full throttle towards the junction. There is so much the taxi man’s vision can do. The main road seemed free. The wind told him so. Except the curve held the spoilt kid out of eye-reach. By the time we learn that, it is already too late. The screech before the hit, its front with our back, and the supporting cast of trembling lips shouting “Jesus!” were all part of the orchestra conducted by the angel of death.

Many people converge towards the heart of the clash; A-grade poke-nosers strutting into the very circle, some God-sent report keepers perhaps. The benign ones hang from afar, lining up the sideways like a launder man’s clothesline. The sirens are what gets you off eventually. The police arrive at the heart of the car crash not minding a hospital bus is nowhere to be found.

No one is beat apparently. Minor scratches here and there. The unfortunate kid nevertheless is unconscious, haven had a moment of truth with his dashboard. You gripped your teeth at first, seeing his semi-lifeless frame however, dissolved your rage into pity. You make a short prayer for him instead.

It never leaves you though. The absolute stillness of time. Its breath, its moment, its truth. Even when the clock starts ticking again, you remain in the hangover. Too serious to jump back to normal life. Or too useless. I could have died. What then is the point?

The introspection pours forth. How did you process a billion thoughts in a second? Mama calling unto you to never sit at the front. Too easy to die from there she would say. The beaming face of the plush beauty you’ve been so stupid not to say your mind to comes next. Then, the litter of a thousand sins, forever awaiting a visit to the priest and an absolution from the cassock-man behind the drapes of a confessional.

With one passenger at a time strutting out like actors off a stage, their stage, the destination for the shock-held reads home. The office, the meet-up, the do or die deal to be signed all dissolve into strings of nonentities. Numb.

Pouring a warm bath at home, your pupils can’t seem to let go of the mirror. The water bath is running, it is okay dude, it beckons, everything is alright, it adds. The deafness to the running stream thickens. Your follies from past thoughts and actions keep circulating on endless miles round your mind. The cold liquid, in anger, after filling the bucket, find its way to your feet, past it, and heads for the lobby and its poor rug. Time to wake up. With the help of a rag, you besiege the shore of the flowing stream. But it does not subside. The tap is still on! Doing the needful with the silver torque finally halts the liquid chaos.

The comforting words of the water bath comes back to your ears, as you unleash liquid and soap on your body. Everything is fine. The only voice that makes sense till it turns into a chant trailing you to bed, dancing atop your ear while your eyelids get heavier, dancing still till it dissolves into a lost lullaby to the deaf ears of a child long fallen asleep.

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