The clown and the cry!

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 34; the thirty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Of-Course, I'm insane"

Haahahhahahahahah....

The echo of his laughter was very ominous which must have threatened even the frightful ravens. The bats hovered above him with a gleam in their eyes. He felt that he should have been so close with the bats somehow for there were several similarities between them. Both the bats and he was nocturnal. They loved to come out at the dusk and finish their work off and leave before the dawn. But he had not had any relations with those bats in this birth. He thought that he might come across such a relation in future. He shooed the bats away. They hurried towards the opposite park with fear in their eyes. He again laughed out loud. Thankfully, no one else was there for they would not have left the place alive. That laughter was not a heroic or a comic one. It was a horrifying one projecting the nature of the person, his attitude and his current state of mind. He seemed so much pleased for what he had decided to do.

He wanted to admire his beauty, the way he had dressed and the way he had got ready for what he was about to do. He looked around the place he was standing. He could not find any piece of mirror to appreciate his beauty. He glared at the door which lay directly in front of him. Still, somewhere in the corner of his heart, there was a soft part. It urged him to leave the place. It persuaded him to drop the job he was about to do. But that small part of the heart could not compete with his remaining part which had become cold-blooded a few years ago.

A pup of that colony of bats which drifted away a few moments back entered the lawn again. It maneuvered back and forth in front of him blocking his view of the door. He suddenly leaped forward and grabbed the poor tiny being with his rough hands. He sat down on the dry grass and opened his hands carefully so that it couldn't escape.

He looked in the eyes of that mammal and asked, "Do you want to know what I am about to do? This will be the first one and there will be many more. I must leave my message to someone. I have an instinct; A feeling that there is a bond between us." 

He hesitated for a few seconds and later after a few deep breaths he told the creature, "Let me first tell you why I am about to do what I am about to! It must have been some fifteen years back. Wait first tell me! How do I look?"

The alarmed little bat tried to shake his hand off and dodge away. But he was far too strong for its body.

"Okay let me continue. Tell me about my looks later! Yes, fifteen years back, I was fifteen years old. And fifteen years back from then, I was born. I might sound crap or funny or even stupid. I was born in a big hospital with the tenderly care of my parents and the doctors around. My birth was celebrated in the entire city for my father was a hot-shot in the city."

There was a little hum coming from the far end of the lawn inside the door that lay opposite to him. His speech was hindered by that constant sound which left him a little peevish. He turned his gaze back to the struggling one in his rock hands.

"I too wish to brag about my birth that way but sadly that was not the way in which it happened. It was too far from the normal cry. My mother always used to tell me that I was a nocturnal being and sadly she isn't here on this holy earth to feed me. I put her out of her misery. With the very same hands I am holding you now; I injected her a high dosage of some kind of drug she gave me. And that was fifteen years ago. That was my first one but it was not something to be proud of because it was her request to do it for she had a disease. An incurable one. Don't know how she got it. Her last few words were, "You are crazy and remain crazy and persist your dream continuously till your end. You should never turn back from your path whoever it might be against." Coming to my birth, I was born in a truck I guess. Wait, it might be a lorry or a bus!? Okay, it's a heavy vehicle and let me leave that detail for now. There were some 15 people in the same truck and I was born in the corner of that bus with a long cloth hiding us from the rest. The men were giggling at me because it was not the right period for the blacks to arrive to this earth. Or they thought so. I don’t have a name and so I think I could name myself after you fellows, the Batter? We resemble a lot except for that echoing stuff and flying. I too am a mammal."

That constant hum rose to a distinct sound. It was a shrill voice making some sounds. For anyone outside would have recognized it as a cry from a human being. He listened keenly and he made out a few words from that sound. “Leave”, “Kill”, “Mercy”, “Black”, “Son” and a few more. He started laughing again now at the top of his voice. The intimidated creature startled and pushed against his hand flipping its wings. Its struggle to break out was so obvious and its teeth made a cut in his hands. The blood started oozing out at a slow pace for it was a minor cut. His laughter turned into enthusiasm. To tell perfectly; It was a beast's one when it sees its prey immobile and helpless.

"Oh you struggle against me! You hapless tiny one! Wait let me show you something." 

He took a small blade from his pocket in his pants.

"No, I want someone to listen to my story. So this would wait. I have no name and so I have random names. They call me the name whichever strikes their mind at that moment. Freak, Stupid, Useless, Cold-blooded and many more. But the most common term was the uncommon word ‘Bastard’ for I was one. My mother used to be the black servant of a famous white guy of the town. That famous guy had a famous lady as her wife and a famous boy as their son. He wasn't the Indian epic Rama guy and so he fooled around his wife but he took safety measures every time. But my mother was unlucky and she had me because of him. The whole family came to know the matter and they made her leave the city after a few months of incessant threats. And on the way out, I was born. Hurray! Hurray! Shit! Shit! Hurray! Hurray! I went with her to a new city and we started living. She fed me by enacting funny things on the road side. Our home was an unused water tank. As I grew up, she taught me to beg for food. Act like a freak and they will give you money. This was all she told. I did, I begged, I did, I begged. There were cops and they always shooed us away. Our fellow street people gave them money and continued to stay. But we didn't have money for we didn't even have enough food for the day. I always wondered how my mother persuaded them to allow us to stay. The policemen used to go inside the tank and I was pushed away and after an hour they would leave. Each time they left, my mother would become sick. I just knew they had hurt my mother and I had to take revenge on all those authorities."

Silence…

"This was happening till my mom’s request to kill her. I killed her. Ooohahaha Ooohahhahahah! I went to her husband’s place and asked for a livelihood. Hmmm, he is my father too! My dad told me that I did not resemble him a bit and I was ugly with a black face and a face full of scars. My brother told me that there was no use of me as I was a boy and he chuckled. I told them that I can make pranks and entertain them. I can do any sort of work they would assign me. I begged them and I fell at their feet. They accepted me as their servant. I silently grew there for fifteen more years till I was strong enough for this."

The words grouped to make sentence and they always do. He could hear complete sentences. He stood, walked slowly and busted the door open. The room was dimly lit by a small lamp at the far corner on the top of a shelf. It was empty except for a few rodents and cockroaches. He watched at a rodent but decided against it seeing the bat in his hands. And slowly he walked towards the only other door present there. He knocked the door. 

"Gentlemen, May I come in?" 

Saying this, he opened the door slowly and peeked in as if he were a cop searching for a terrorist. There lay a man with his hands tied to his back and a cloth stuffed in his mouth. Wait! No there was one more at his back. Two people were tied to each other. The front one was not making any sound and he lied there with his head hung down as if he were in a shame. He didn't make any struggle and he was immobile. It must be the back one. He went around the figure and saw the other one with a grin on his face. The man tied down at the back was struggling.

"So, is your son dead sir? Let me check." He turned around to the front and checked him.

"Yes, he is dead sir. Your son is dead. Excellent!"

"He is your brother, you freak!" the man bawled. 

"Haha! No! Not brother but Step brother!"

"But I am your father. Please have mercy!" 

"Oh! Yeah! You are my father! A father who abhorred his son!" 

He went near him and whispered in his ears. "An Illegal Son! A harami! A bastard!" 

He moved towards the bed next to them. 

"But you are my father. What could I do possibly? Okay! well! yeah! Have this as my present first and then let me finish you!" 

Telling this, he cut the bat’s throat and gave it to him. He shuddered.

"Have you lost your nerves?"

"Of Course, I am insane!"

He looked at his figure in a mirror above those figures. He had painted his face so that his ugliness isn't visible and extended his lips on both sides which he tried to make like he was smiling always. But it was not looking like a smile. It wasn't anymore than a scar. A colorful green coat over a full hand shirt! He took out a small blade from his pocket.

"You Joker, freak, disgusting fellow with scars!!"

"Joker! That is a good suggestion. I might consider it. Scars? Speaking of which, do you know how I got these scars?" 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: Muthu Kumar, Participation Count: 01