The World behind Your Eyes

By Sahana Vamsee

It had been 7 hours.

The hospital was ghost quiet. The windows were screeching, the trees outside were sighing. Most hope was lost that Ms Pasapugazh would ever open her eyes. But behind her eyes, hope wasn’t lost. It couldn't be if the residents wanted to live to see the next page.

“Push harder!” shouted a shrill bossy voice. She was the supervisor of fictional functions of the mind of Pasapugazh. You see, fiction doesn't pop out of thin air. It comes from billions of nerve interactions that are coordinated by the department of fictional functions of the inner mind.

“I am. No centaur can do anything better than this” , shouted Pholus. He was, in fact, the only centaur in Pasapugazh’s stories. The characters in her mind were literally employees of the department. The department of critical functions let the central motor heat up too much and now near permanent sleep was induced. All departments were called but Department FF was by far the most versatile diverse group of weirdos ever. With literal superpowers. They all struggled to literally make a new motor from the vault of imagination, but the door was smashed shut after the motor failure.

“ Ok everyone, ummm, and things, let's think smartsy. Alien villain 2 and 3 work on cutting the-”

“ We are not 2 and 3 , my name is gnbfsdafhgjvj and he is ynnbefyhnjdnj. Tell it right, detective”

“hmm whatever, and all background staff work on crude pushing and on the edge please, basic physics.” The detective was the most fully formed character with a proper arc and character development. Pasapugazh had crafted her with at most perfection. She was the untold mind in this mind job.

“ and giant guys 1, 2, 3 and 4 go and put the wizard's staff in the hinges and push. I was supposed to get you to break that in the plot anyways. All dragons, get your hides here. Melt out the second doors hinges”

The orders were followed with utmost perfection and with no taking back. They either feared her or were in awe at her character sketch.

All the dance groups and the lovers were asked to jump like mad on the membrane, the only tangible and accessible connection between inner and outer minds. This banging of rampant lovers was enough to keep Pasapugazh’s brain at least producing basic waves.

All the family members of the author were one the verge of giving up when a mountain of hope appeared on the ECG. It was like magic. An angel had saved her life. But as the workers and characters sighed with utmost satisfaction, staring at the humming motor, they knew the saviours weren’t angels, but dragons and giant guys.

By Sahana Vamsee