Guest Post - Two of a Kind by Pranju Chakrapani



A stroll I was taking. A thought I was thinking. Suddenly an eye got blinking. And it got me thinking. The boy that passed by me. My mind made a ringing. I have seen him before. A fear rushed from my core. A dress similar to mine that he wore. A walk like me, a perfect score. My mouth felt a little soar. okay. better call this guy, a thought I couldn't ignore.




Hi, Have I seen you before?


A smile to his lips, Oh! Yes


Do I know you?


Ha! How can you not, I am none but you!


What! Don't play games! Gonna kill you!!


Oh come on, to kill the already dead? Can it be true?


Hey. who are you? Now tell me the truth.


Come with me and I will show you the truth


Went beside him. A fear up to my brim. A panic! should I scream? Okay! must be my dream. I stopped sunddenly where he asked me to, He pointed a finger to my black shoe, to his black shoe and to the dead man's shoe. All tattered. All dusted. All faded. He pointed me to my scar, to his scar, to the dead man's scar. All tarnished. All burnished. And he laughed with the faded smile. laughed till he vanished a mile. laughed till I was left with my body on the aisle.

And he laughed with the faded smile. laughed till he vanished a mile. laughed till I was left with my body on the aisle.

Okay so lemme think of it for a moment. My body had done an atonement, for all the sins that my evil had done in the heat of the moment. I am dead and that's confirmed. But who is this rascal, my doppelgänger? Now that's a concern. A light weight that I feel. Where are my evil thoughts that earlier I had to deal. A desire to do good. To never to harm others and not to be rude.

My doppelgänger, I will think of him later. I have this body of my own to dump in the crater.

My doppelgänger! I will then deal with that filth of an imitator!

An intuition that something's going to be wrong. And then I saw him and his frown. On seeing me he ran and I felt a little pang. What's he going to do this time. He is an evil and can do anything for a dime. I followed him to stop an obvious crime. A dead following a dead. A thread following a line. Where the heck is he going, a question came to my mind.A familiar road that I see. Although the darkness came suddenly. My old man's house after a mile. And I saw his silhouette and caught a smile.I ran up to him. dragged him, punched him hoping that it is just a dream.

"I know who you are this time, my evil!""thank the devil, that you realised this thrill.""I have had enough of you, because of you is why I am dead"

"Hey! blaming me? Ask your old man who created me in your head""What's my pa gotta do with you ?" "Forgotten the years of pain, trauma, agony and blood you bleeded and gagged? that old man who treated you like his punching bag? Do a li'l mistake and sooner than late he punched you into a rag. A childhood gone wild. How can he treat you that way when you were a 10 year old child. Time to change the game. Here is the knife to kill him and put him onto a frame. Go ahead and have your revenge. A lighter and a spark! I will make sure he burns in a flame."

Dare to say that again! I will slit you apart. part by part. You say he treated me like a punching bag! When it was you who made me sniff that adhesive plastic bag. It was you who stole those money bags. Of course he punished me. God only knows how much he , afterwards, did lamenting. My evil, of course you wouldn' t understand it, but it's called parenting.
All of a sudden, in a blinking he snatched the knife and straight he drived to the door of my pa's hive and he shouted " now see the blood and gore live!"
Ran towards him. No I cannot let him kill him. My old man, good or bad, is everything to me. He punched me but gave me those hard lessons. Taught me to read and write and gave me the best education. My pa, substituted for the absence of my ma. I will kill myself than to kill him with this evil's karma.

And so dragged him back again to the ground. Took the knife but whilst injured a wound. Blood trickled down my arm. Blood trickled down his arm. Blood trickled down our arm.
And then I knew what to do to stop him. Still hoping it is a dream. still hoping it is a dream...hoping it is just a dream.

It was getting difficult to control my evil. An urgency! No time to think how a ghost can get cut, feel the pain, a shrill. A cut on me happens to be a cut on him. The pain and palpation, definitely not a dream. An anger rose within my whims. Oh, so much now I detest his face, my face, our face. The years of misery, trouble and defeats! Now it's time to tie down the lace. A final show of my grimace. A final punch at his face.

My pa used to tell me. Kill an animal at his heart. Trust me it won't hurt. A tear rolled down my eyes as I tossed my life's final dice. Took the knife and shoved it at my heart. Blood thus oozed out from that slice.


My evil thus collapsed in the dust. A whirlpool of ashes blew in that burst. A morning ray did shine on the knife's rust. To have a last look at my pa, I must.

But like my evil, which defeated me for life long, this ghost couldn't hold my body for that long and as I tried to open my pa's door I drifted as ash on his floor. A rush of morning rays came knocking from the door. From the web of cob, a last glimpse of my old man hanging on the robe.

The end

Author Bio:- Pranju Chakrapani is an avid reader, an amateur writer, a passionate blogger and a researcher. He pours his soul in the beautiful words captured on his blog Musings of an Atheist.



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