Fate lines

For a long time, with a sharp blade in his right hand, Arun wanted to change his fate.

His past was an uninvited guest, in his sleep, every night. He hadn’t slept for the last three nights. His eyes refused to stay closed. They wanted to stare into space, looking for a solution to everything. He could see the shadows of his memories looming over him.

He knew what the solution was. He just had to use the sharp edge of the silvery blade, against the softness of his skin. It was easy, and relief was just centimeters away. Without giving it a second thought, he used the blade mercilessly against his palm.

He didn’t want to die. He knew his destiny was in his hands, so he used the blade to make his palms smooth, free of any ‘fate-lines’. He took the pain as a blessing, because he knew, at the end of suffering, there was relief. He managed to scrape off the upper layer of the hard skin on his palm. With blood, all over, he smiled. He knew he had achieved it. He had changed his fate.

But, as usual, the reality was something else. He was holding the blade I his right hand, and suddenly he remembered that a man’s fate-lines are on his right hand. Without any further repentance, he took the blade in his blood-stained left hand and repeated the same act on his right hand.

Now, he was happy. Now, he knew that everything in his life will happen according to his plans, his hard work and his deeds. He will prove everyone in this world, wrong.

Fate, he muttered to himself. The immediate gesture that came to his mind was – his own hand tracing the forehead. Some people say your fate lies on your forehead, in its wrinkles and in the incomplete lines formed over it, by time.

Arun was not in the mood to take any chances. He immediately took the blade and this time it was his forehead. 10 minutes later, Arun managed to get on his feet and walk. He felt free, unburdened… he knew; now everything was really in his hands. He had managed to control his destiny. His decisions were final.

He felt like God.