Humpty sat in the refrigerator pondering and pondering, which is pretty much what eggs did. They were deep existential thinkers, contemplating on the nature of good and evil, and the nature of man and man’s relationship to them. He pondered on metaphysical things like the nature of the eternal yolk, the finitude of the shell and predestination. Why do some eggs hatch and become chickens when the rest are refrigerated? Why am I here? What is the meaning of all this? What does tomorrow bring? He thought. He never quite understood man.

He very carefully and gently caressed eggs and placed them in the refrigerator with utmost care, but he’d seen another side. Another vicious side that another poor egg who was now either in heaven, hell, purgatory or the void experienced. Man just picked him up and smashed him over a woman’s head in rage. He watched in horror as shell broke and yolk spilt. How could man who’s capable of such tenderness do something so vicious? Did man have two yolks, one good and another bad? Or did he only mask his depravity? Humpty thought and wished he could express these feelings, but he had no outlet and he felt uneasy and discomforted when the refrigerator door opened, and a child looked at him before picking him up.

Humpty remained mute but his yolk froze. Terror gripped him. It was time to finally experience things and face truth or judgement and he didn’t know what lay before him. He couldn’t express his sheer agony and inner torture. A whirlwind of emotion gripped his yolk. Help! Save! Redeem! He desperately thought when the child suddenly brought Humpty out of the house and he saw the light. The sun. Now, he had some innate knowledge of it but had never truly seen it. He felt warm, comforted and consoled when he was placed on a wall. He was ecstatic. He had inner peace. So, it’s redemption after all, he thought and lost himself to the moment when he felt a slight nudge.

He suddenly found himself losing consciousness and experienced severe nausea, and he felt the urge to vomit but couldn’t. He was falling. “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,” he heard the child sing. The agony was excruciating. And then he crashed against the cobbles and felt his shell cracking: a small crack before a split. His yolk oozed out. What did I ever do to you? Why do you hurt me? Aaargh! It stings! It burns! I can’t handle it! The pain! Please make it stop! He thought, still unable to express himself. And then he saw the murderous child wearing a crown and carrying a toy horse. He crushed Humpty some more with the horse. Oh God! No! Please! Don’t! He thought. The child then squashed Humpty into pulp, letting the yolk run on his hands. Make it stop! Make this murderous bastard quit! Humpty thought and then he heard a voice of a demon when the child shrieked with glee, saying, “All the King’s horses and the King’s men. Couldn’t put Humpty together again.” And everything faded to black just after Humpty realized that existence was meaningless.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2019)

8 thoughts on “ Humpty ”

    1. I loved the poem. It’s extremely introspective and deep. My post is simply a darkly humorous take on the nursery rhyme. I’m often bored and like adding my own twists on nursery rhymes lol. Existence is meaningless to a few, and meaningful to others. It depends on how you’re raised, what you’ve experienced and who you are today, I guess.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Your posts are hardly “simply” anything…they’re always clever and thought provoking…

        I guess, when I try to step away and outside, life still utterly amazes me…who can explain it? Its origins? The obvious and insanely unfathomable complexity of the human body scientifically speaking, but then that we are alive as well…it’s all so mind blowing. It just seems to me, that because of our outrageous uniqueness within our solar system and any system that we are aware of, it’s impossible for me to accept it is meaningless. 🤷

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you V! Looking at it from that point of view, yes, existence seems like a marvel. But then again, sentience might be a curse as self-awareness, consciousness and knowing often leads to deep sorrow. Life, to me, is meaningful in an ephemeral sense. For example, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book gives me pleasure. But in a larger, more meaningful sense, I think we’re simply instruments without freedom who carry out fate’s will.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Nitin, I am thinking I will email you my thoughts, as there are a number of things I am trying to pull together. Do you have the same email?

        In my experience and reading, humans need community, and hopefully that deep sorrow can move us to action, in even the smallest way, to improve the life of others…and we so often don’t even realise the effect we have had on another… I think it is so easy to be overwhelmed by the condition of the world, and forget how even the smallest gesture in a day can have a profound ripple effect.
        AS you know, (I think?) I don’t believe in fate…and rather than leave a really long comment here, I will email the rest 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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