Freaky Valentine!

I am apprehensive about writing this piece because, for the first time, I feel I will not be able to give that night its full due. What started, as a dismal commemoration of being single one valentines’ eve, soon turned out to be the wildest night of my life!

We weren’t drunk, nor stoned. We were just wallowing… An hour passed with depressing songs of love. Love lost, lost love found, love lost and found and lost and never found…

It started out slow, a move here a movement there. Shoulder shrugging dance soon gave way to heavy head banging. No external intoxication, pure adrenalin! Suddenly, a pillow came flying my way, before I knew it, the four pillows on my bed were being ripped apart in the process of a pillow fight. There was screaming, it seemed in tune with Papa Roach (Last Resort). We wrestled with intentions of murder! There was sweat and hair all over our faces. We were hyperventilating…. almost asthmatic. Nothing deterred us. We were rolling on the cold floor, unable to breathe with laughter dominating each bronchiole. My body gave up; I now suffered from chronic hilarity! We were epileptically seizing in post traumatic laughter. It looked nothing like the pillow fight-ic arousal bits on American television. It was ugly.

Then it stopped… Time out… One could feel the tension. Though breathing, each knew that the other, silently prepared for the next attack. Eyes alert, were now Hi Tech cameras, programmed to spot and process movements in the split existence of a second….. Someone slightly shifted…. That was enough…. And the pillows rained, they thundered! Covers were torn, ripped into tatters; they were just slowing us down….props of nameless shapes were now used to smother faces and bodies alike. Each oppressor; overwhelmed and unrestrained.

In lieu of the chaotic, barbaric brutality, strategic symphony soon set in. Each doe-eyed the other. Innocent nonchalance could barely sustain to cover the exuberance boiling within….
They cornered me. I never knew where the first blow came from as I hit the cold ground, half struggling to get off my bean bag. The bag seemed to participate too. It was a wormhole, quick sand, one could never get out! The blows never stopped! I gathered all my strength and sat up. I snatched someone’s pillow. She was defenseless now! The others noticed that too…we were vultures, loyal to none but the meat of helpless prey. And we rained again, this time we were hailing! Pecking of the flesh till her skin turned red!

It had been hours, or so it seemed. After a point, our hands shivering with fatigue, just threw misdirected aims into thin air. At times, our own pillows would hit us, tiring mid way an attack. The laughter though, never ceased. It never ceased.

I will never know how it ended. How I closed the door and got on my bed. How the discarded cigarette butts reached the trash can or how a torn pillow cover ended up pasted to the wall. I will never know why my floor is sticky or how my beanbag is covered in icing! I will never know! And it’s beautiful to know that I will never know!