Ants in my hair

If Eve doomed the human race for an apple, what would she do for a pair of Christian Louboutin? If someone made a movie about Morgan Freeman, who would narrate it? If Facebook banned photos, how many people would die?

(pic credits: wikipedia)

Alone and bored in an empty house in Kochi, I looked at the ceiling and pondered over what I thought were existential questions that bothered the fatigued and over thinking intellects of the cosmos.

I tried to detect if there were hidden patterns in the white paint that covered the ceiling. I imagined the ceiling in black and wondered if it would make a difference in the night. Before another thought could strike my brainwork, I felt a tingling behind my neck. It started at the base of my neck and worked it's way up, and paused at the beginning of my hairline. There, it got entangled in the short strands and seemed to move slowly. Did I awaken my chakras? Half bemused, my fingers sought out the tingling.

It fell out. An ant, its life squished out my my prying fingers.

A bunch of new thoughts pervaded my mind. Why did the ant get into my hair? Was it doomed to die like this, at the hands of a bored human in a lonely building? Is my hair sweet?

I put it down on the floor. In a few minutes, a few more ants gathered around, picked it up, and carried it away amongst a small, busy, mourning party.

I went back to the thoughts. Was it an important ant? Should I wash my hair, change my bed sheet or stop eating dinner in bed? Why is a dead ant part of my thoughts?

Dead ant dead ant dead ant.....