In The Dark Alley

'This city is afraid of me. I have seen it's true face. The streets are extended gutters. And the gutters are full of blood. When the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all  their dirt will foam up around their waists. And all the whores and the politicians will look up and shout "Save Us!"… and I will whisper "No."'

 

Rorschach's words from 'Watchmen' keep playing in my head as I lie in this dark alley-unguarded, unclothed and indignant. Ingratitude has crossed limits of my patience and now boils up anger in my head and I survive by downplaying others in my head to glorify myself-A fake existence. I have been stripped of my beliefs and my emotions and thrown to be laughed at, to be constantly judged upon and to be preserved as an instance. There is no humanity. There is only a crowd, walking with their eyes closed, unable to see beyond itself.

 

I have seen people change around me. I have felt time flow through my thoughts, my actions, my laughter and my denials. They say I am stuck in time. They say that they haven't changed. But I see change. I see selective honesty. I see superficial decency, apparent sophistication and narrower spans of human concern. I feel woken up to this truth. And raindrops fall slowly to my skin I look up to the sky to see dark clouds, tall buildings and even taller shadows. Shadows of people moving about outside the alley heavily ignorant of each other, ignorant of me. And I feel that deep sense of longing again, to get back a small portion of what I gave, what I sacrificed. I feel cheated. The foundations of my life shaken and a devotion of my life stands futile in the rains of deceit, double faces and mistrust. Rain drops fall on every inch of my skin as if exploiting the dryness of it. I have been crippled and I stand naked , my mind forcing me to accept the truth-the truth of real power which nests in it's craving. I am being linearised into the crowd by those which first made me stand out. I smile. Hypocrisy. But then man is not a hypocrite. Hypocrisy is us.

 

Déjà vu.

 

This has happened before. I have been here before.  I know what to do. And I suddenly stand, the rain forcing me down. I have to do what I did last time-find another one. I start scourging the alley but its too dark.  I am on all fours and scanning the wet earth with my hands. And then…I find it-The Mask. But I don't know what it looks like. I am apprehensive but I look at the rambling crowd outside and I pick it up. I find an overcoat and a hat in as trash bin. I put them on and dreading what I am going to become I put on the mask. It was cold and wet from the rain. I  put my hands in the pockets and start walking towards the street, my bare feet dripping water every time they rose. I reach the end of the alley and step into the moving crowd. Time slows down. 

 

People stop to see my emergence, bumping into each other, their bodies swaying, but their eyes fixed. On me. It takes a moment for them to stand still and the hitherto ignorant crowd, now cranes it's neck, first left, then right and then left again just to have a glimpse. They watch me with their ever-critical eyes roving up and down my body, judging everything from my bare feet to the ragged hat on my head, trying to see how I am different and how I am  a fool. Seconds are moving with the pace of a tortoise and the crowd constantly swells with people joining it in semicircles and I…am waiting.