Sunday, January 17, 2016

The Talking Puppets: Part 2

                                           The Talking Puppets: Part 2

But we are losing one of our members all the same" shouted the Rebel. The Puppeteer grunted in his sleep. "It's time we Our World too". He got all the Puppets in a huddle. 

A plan was hatched.


The Rebel and The Aide climbed out of the green bag and hid themselves in a corner of the Puppeteer's room. Their first tactic was to disrupt his storytelling. Without two critical characters, the Puppeteer would fumble. That would give them leverage to bring him to the table for negotiation.

The Puppeteer didn't look into his bag before starting off with the story that day. It was not something he did regularly. Once in 3 months, he would take the puppets out of the bag and give them a coat of raw paint, so that they didn't lose their lustre in the lights. The puppets sneezed continuously for a couple of nights after the painting ritual and cursed the Puppeteer for not exposing them to fresh air. But ofcourse, they didn't believe they could rebel. Not until the Rebel had given them direction - which was now.

The Puppeteer started off with the story. The audience waited with bated breath as each character took birth out of the green bag and engaged the audience. Soon enough, the Puppeteer had set stage for the Rebel to appear. The story was reaching a climax and the Rebel would change its course. Only, he was not there that day. The Puppeteer started fumbling. The Old Man winked at the Son. The Puppeteer almost noticed this. But attributed that to a trick of the light. The professional that he was, he quickly changed the course of the story and brought it to a close. In the end. only he knew that he was a little shaken by what had just happened. He looked into the green bag and searched for the Rebel. After the search, he came to know the Aide was also missing from the lot.

He hurried back home and looked for the missing puppets. He found them both hiding in the corner. There was an unmistakable smile on the Rebel's face. The Aide was standing a couple of paces behind. He gave them both a look of fury and thrust them into the bag.

"You should've seen the look on his face, when the Rebel wasn't appearing from the bag. It was priceless" The Old Man said, as all the Puppets burst out laughing.
"And when father winked at me, he was utterly confused....for the first time in his life" said the Son with the smugness of having achieved something.
"We can bend him to our wills and wishes, friends....we only need to stand united" the Rebel motivated. "I have decided I'm going to have this smile on my face more looking angry. If he wants to, let him call me the 'The Smiling Rebel'. But now, to the second part of the plan."
"Yes, I'll talk to the Puppeteer tonight. Given the way we have planned, it would seem to him that he's dreaming. Let him see the magic of his Magician today" said the Magician.

Only the Philosopher noticed that all of their colors had started fading, ever so slightly. They had started to become pale.


It was a couple of hours after midnight when the Magician climbed out of the green bag. The bag was left slightly open, for him to make the sudden escape into its depths in case anything went wrong in the operation. His black attire blended in a sinister way with the darkness of the night, making his red eyes all the more cruel and venomous.

He sat near the Puppeteer's head, and started the conversation.

The Puppeteer woke up with a start, when he heard the baritone. It was his voice. But strangely, he wasn't the one speaking. He clutched his throat in shock and turned to the direction from where the voice was coming. In the darkness, he could only make out those red eyes.

"Who are you? I know these eyes...but it just can't be" he stammered, disbelievingly.
"When Your world can exist...Ours can exist too" said the Magician. The Puppeteer moved closer to the voice, to see if the Magician's mouth was moving. But it wasn't. It startled him further.
Even in the state of shock  he was in, he managed to muster a forceful reply
"Your world!!?? It exists because I create it. You are the Magician, because I call you so!"
"But the fact remains that you've called me the Magician. And that I do have a few tricks up my sleeve". The Magician retorted. He gave a low whistle.

And the war cries started. And before the Puppeteer knew what was happening, there were pairs of eyes surrounding him from nowhere. There was no head, no torso. Pairs of eyes with menacing looks. Some of them angry, some of them smug. Some of them dancing with victory. Then came music. Music that rang out a warning. Music that breathed fire and commanded submission. The eyes encircled the Puppeteer and started dancing, even as the music blared on relentlessly. The Magician's red eyes smiled the look of satisfaction.

"What do you want? Whose eyes are all these? I remember having seen them, but I don't know who they belong to.." The Puppeteer said. He wasn't composed anymore.
"Those eyes you mean? Didn't you see the look of sorrow in those eyes, when you discarded one of us each year? Each of those pair of eyes wants revenge today. You have the right to give birth....but you can't take life out of us...unless we want to go ourselves..

The Puppeteer was now sitting scared. His legs were folded to his chin. He forehead showed perspiration. "What do you want me to do?" he whispered.

The Magician's eyes were now one nose distance from those of the Puppeteer.
"You won't be discarding any of us anymore. I don't know if you want to create more of us. But none of us....are going to die for your whims and fancies". Those red eyes lingered on the Puppeteer for a moment more. And before the Puppeteer could react, they disappeared. And so did all the other pairs of eyes surrounding the Puppeteer. The room was plunged in darkness. The silence was deafening.

                                                                                                                          - January 17th, 2016

                                                                                                                         (To be continued)

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