I disengage a portion of me and let her move towards the skies. I then lie there and watch her float. A journey much-awaited and there she smiles, I feel content.

I should have told, told her that she could fly as far as she wishes to go. She could even choose to stay and never return. Oh, dear portion, needn’t mark your way, needn’t leave tracks, needn’t feel obliged to come back to me. I shall live with a missing me. You may fly high and Fadeaway…

I watch her grow smaller. She is losing her shape and size to the smallest of dots and then the contours disappear as she mingles into the background. Applaud, rejoice, this is a ceremony, the moment just passed by. From now on, a portion of me shall be named ‘sky’’.

Hello madam sky, this is me, just another you. Go touch the ends of the beginning of time, see what happened at the very first minute. See what existed before that minute. I shall see it all through you. My indulgence in thoughts, makes me smile.

I am looking for a star, show me one. Show me, anyone, from any constellation but do show me one. Holding my breath, I wait for it, the sky is empty. I wait, my breath held. But for a star, I shall die… Moments click by, my eyes moving across the wide dark frame, show me one, just one… My lungs deprived but its an empty sky… I can’t believe… this can’t be true… My muscles tighten, all my organs pause for that one single glimpse.. and yes.. there it is.. the smallest I have ever seen. The sky grants me life. A deep chilling breath into every living cell… I am saved…

I raise one arm and make a slit through my fingers. The smallest of stars is inside my finger slit. I close the slit and light is gone… darkness is on… I open the slit and the tiny ray touches my and shut, on and gone…I twist my fingers and the tiny light dances with the rhythm. Like a couple, they move in style.

Slowly I see the fingers changing shape… My fingers have taken the shape of a Deer. A slender red Deer, sprinting with joy in the starlit sky. What a magnificent sight. I lie calmly watching the Deer; lively, vibrant and full with grace But the joy and the fun couldn’t last for long. My other hand has raised to the scene as if a beast from the graves of the dead. Its a Leopard; a wild cat walking with pride. His gaze hitting the pray with no obstruction.

Run my Dear, a Leopard is here. Runaway into the secrets of space. Run to life… Make your own space, run as fast as you can. A helpless me and a helpless sky, destined to watch a disaster tonight. The Deer is bleeding but not yet dead. It is trying hard to escape death and trying harder to die as soon as it could. Slowly a wild silence creeps in.. Rest in the skies with eternal peace. Memories of the Deer shall remain with us. A moment of silence…!

I stare at the place where the Deer was there and I see my lifeless fingers lying still. Then slowly something move. The spirit of the Deer is transforming into another form of life. What is it? I am eager to see… The moving fingers are nothing but wings taking shape. Tears of joy, it’s a beautiful butterfly.

One of my hand is now a butterfly, What would be the word to describe my delight? There to here and here to there, it’s flying like a curious newborn boy.

Like a mother, I enjoy the play. With every passing moment it is gaining pace; a growing child of mine. Changes are part of life I see. Change itself is life, I agree. The Deer hasn’t died, no one ever dies. The energy entered a metamorphic state to transform itself into a beautiful butterfly. The grace and the vibrancy have come to life.

The other hand of mine; the Leopard-hand, I shall call. Has now finished the meal and looks satisfied. Why are you here? What role do you have to play in the life of a butter-like fly? The Leopard stares as if I have spoken forbidden words. What is it? What have I done? I don’t understand. The Leopard doesn’t speak but continues to stare, a frightening stare.

The Leopard like fingers are now gaining wings. A Leopard with wings? no that can’t be fair. This is not written in the scripts of nature. I can deny this scene. But wait, the wild cat is transforming too. I wide-open my eyes to see things well. It has transformed into a Bird. Not any ordinary bird, its a mother bird getting ready to hunt for her newborns.

My brain thinking fast.. Where does the truth lie? Hurry.. tell me why are things blurred. The bird and the butterfly are now in the frame. Flying high and flying low. Think my brain, decide now.. my brain divided into two equal parts. One is right and the other is true. What shall I say.. what shall I do…Between my words, the butterfly gets a clear escape.. sigh! So that’s how it is.. the unpredictable form of life… What shall be my emotion? I am confused.

The story of the butterfly has left a gap. I feel low, I shall not proceed. When both are true, who shall win? Maybe I am too ordinary to understand the phenomenon nature, I take a bow.

But I see that my hands are now waiting for signals. They want to know who they depict next. Unnatural nature of all beings, why would I alone be spared. The mood is on, let’s move on.

Memories from past are attached to me like colourless threads. One hand of mine is now closed like a Bud. I wait to see the flower Bud bloom. I nurture it with such love but it doesn’t bloom. What is your pain? I asked the Bud. What is the melancholic song you haven’t sung? Open your eyes, see the new world. Smile my bud, I shall save you from all that’s sad.

Then she blossoms and a glimpse at me. I now understand that time does heal. Fingers of my other hand have also taken shape. It’s a Bee. A sweet Honeybee. The Bee gets its mighty share of honey and takes the oath to spread the pollen grains. No bleeding tracks and no scary cries. No debts to pay in heaven and earth. All things stay tranquil and pleased. No one died and none sacrificed and yet all satisfied.

I am confused? Let me take a pause.. but they don’t let me stop… cheers everywhere; more, more.. go on, go on…

A right-hand python and a left-hand python. No doubt, its time for war. All eyes are now on to the stage. Maddening cries of cheers everywhere. The pythons swinging from right to left and left to right. Any moment now, my brain is preparing for the move. Okay, let’s begin. Their eyes meet, they savour the taste of air. Ready…Set… Go..but nothing happens… Come on Go… I command… Go..but they aren’t moving, they aren’t fighting.. moments of elation pass by.. Slowly the energy drains off. I see my audience have lost hope. I see them mutter and leave. I said, Fight.. one bothers.

Whats it brain? What is that you have been thinking? Why didn’t you fight? What Damn thing is it? The brain doesn’t answer. Why should it answer? The thoughts are already mine, it was always mine, they are me myself. Indulgence in thoughts, make me smile.

The one last star within my finger slits. Open and shut, dim and bright. I gaze for long and it seems as if she is ascending towards me. Is that a star or a firefly flying high? One tiny light into my falling eyes. A portion of me has mingled with the sky, I shall be the sky, I shall be.

Non-verbal cues

What is it that you have been writing. Can I have a look.

No you needn’t.

Okay but why?

I dont want you to.

But I have always did.

Well, then not from this moment.

Okay shall we sit down to talk.

No not now.

Its okay, its just me.

Just you?

Yes can I just come closer. Closer to you.


Okay may I touch your finger tip.

You think this is funny. Don’t you?

No, I am just trying to help.

The best thing would be to just leave.


Yes, just go . Go away. Go far away.


I can’t bear you around.


Why are you still standing. Go away.

(Foot steps, door opens. Foot steps fading)

Wait ( with disgust)


Remember I dont want to see you anytime soon. Dont return.


Wait. Do you have a place to go? You are such a dependent creature, do you know that? Okay listen, don’t go too far, just stay away.

(Moments pass..)

I told you to stay away. Why are you here?

Listen, I have a suggestion.

Oh not anymore.

Just once. Please.

No. ( shaky)

Listen, can I just switch off the lights so that you needn’t see me and you can be sure I am not watching you. (Speaking swiftly)

(Moments pass)

Okay. All the better.

(Lights out)

(Silence but presence felt)

(moments passing in silence but presence felt)

Where ? Where are you?



Can you touch my fingers, here.

(Finger tips touch)

Can You come closer

Shall I


Here I am.



Even more

(Thick silence, where breathings and hearts could be heard)

(Moments passing by..)

Can I speak.


Would you like to lie-down.


(Sound of furniture)



You are weak I see. Would you sleep?

Yes but will you sleep too.

No I won’t.

Then what will you do?

I will watch you and caress you while you sleep.

Will you?

Shall I?


Let your eyelids fall, let all those thoughts out of your brain. Calm..


Can I touch your skin.


(Whispers.. soft smiles)

Will I see a dream?

Not tonight.


And I know you know the reason why?

Yea, because tonight we are together already.

That’s right.

(Humming a broken tune.. whispers.. Smiles in between.. silence)


Seven stars visible through the window. The darkness of the sky is one with the darkness in the room. A cloud covering them from the light of moon. As if the universe is made of cold darkness, seven dim stars, two humans and one divided soul. Sound of silence carrying waves of minds, one conscious and the other, mid way..


I am lying on a seashore. How do I know this is one? The sound of waves, the warm humid air, the salty breeze. I know it because the earth is loose and my skin feels the way it does on a shore and so I know this is a seashore.

What Am I looking at, this splendid red dot? Is it the sun? yes, it only could be the sun. This day is done, it is a setting sun. This part of the world is rotating to the dark side. Not to the west and not the east, nor is it rotating bottom to top. Let me call it the other side.

But what is this difference I sense? I am aware of everything but there is something away from my comprehension. No this is all my intuition. A game of the brain’s hemispheres. Just doing some housekeeping through the corpus callosum.

See.. look… oh don’t you see? This beautiful blue… blue.. blue something, flying towards me… see.. do you see..? But what is its name? What do they call it? I knew it. Tell me, give me a hint. What was it called or what would it call itself. Will this beautiful species have had its own name. What is her language? How can we converse?

So close we are, as close as it could fly. I hear the sounds of its fluttering featherlike wings.

Oh dear blue, I know I evolved from you.  But like a wasted gene, why have I lost the links of heredity? What is our tongue, so as to speak? What is the gesture, so as to greet? I do not know and why is that I do not know? Aren’t we both from the same earth?

The noise of the sea is now at a distance. I raise my finger to touch the blue beauty. Aw! but no. My fingers don’t move. My body doesn’t move. I knew this wasn’t real. ”Real”, can’t be this. Am I conscious?  Am I?

“Yes you are, but this consciousness is different. Different in degree, not in type. You aren’t awake. You aren’t asleep. You are in a dream.”

Yes! I get it, I truly understand. But who are you speaking? Are you a portion of my mind? See it is flying away from me. Towards the setting sun, it flew. Could you tell me what its name is?

“No, I am not the one.”

Why are you here? Tell me who are you speaking?

“I am the one watching the dream..”

If you are the dreaming one? Then who is the one asking you questions? What truth is this? I am confused. Tell me who is the one asking you questions?

“Truth, isn’t that a word from the human brain? Truth doesn’t exist anywhere else. What exists is what is already here; Some things sensible others not yet. Some things visible others moving faster than light.”

The blue is melting, melting into the darkness of the sky.

“The sky isn’t high or far away, Earth itself is a part of the sky. A rolling stone in wide space, a spherical form of condensed dust, a cosmic dance of sun and earth. You and I are celestial beings.”

Mayhem.. heart beats faster, muscles tighten, then time passes and passes until silence… Silence proceeds, breathing heavily then slowly then lightly, then time passes and passes again and again until peace… Peace.

With no sound waves produced, a voice is heard “ your eyes. You are awake. Awake into the other side of consciousness. Not to the east, not to the west. Let us call it the other side. Open your eyes, the blue is gone, there’s dawn.”

Beyond the umbra

സൂര്യോദയമോ അസ്തമയമോ ഇനിയും കാണണം എന്ന് ഇപ്പോള്‍ ഒരു കൌതുകം വീണ്ടും തോന്നിത്തുടങ്ങിയിരിക്കുന്നു. അതിനൊരു കാരണം ഉണ്ട്; ഒരു പുലരിയില്‍ രണ്ടു സൂര്യോദയങ്ങള്‍ അല്ലെങ്കില്‍ ഒരു സന്ധ്യയില്‍ രണ്ടു അസ്തമയം അങ്ങനെ ഇരട്ടിയായി കാണാന്‍ സാധിക്കുമത്രേ. കടല്‍ക്കരയില്‍ സൂര്യനെ തന്നെ നോക്കി കിടക്കുക, അസ്തമിച്ചു കഴിഞ്ഞു എന്ന് തോന്നുന്ന ക്ഷണത്തില്‍ പെട്ടെന്ന് എഴുന്നേറ്റു നില്‍ക്കുക. അപ്പോള്‍ അസ്തമിച്ച ഭാഗം വീണ്ടും അസ്തമിക്കുന്നതു കാണാം.

അയാളുടെ നീളവും, രണ്ട് അസ്തമയങ്ങള്‍ തമ്മിലെ ദൈര്‍ഘ്യവും കുറിച്ചെടുത്താല്‍ ഭൂമിയുടെ radius കണ്ടുപിടിക്കാമത്രേ. അത് എനിക്ക് രസിച്ചു. ഇനിയും കേള്‍ക്കണോ, space elevators ഭൂമിയുടെ ആകര്ഷണവലയത്തിന് അപ്പുറം നില്‍ക്കും. അങ്ങനെ അയാള്‍ elevator ന്‍റെ വാതിലുകള്‍ ശൂന്യാകാശത്തേക്ക് തുറക്കും, മുകളിലെ ഒരു മുറിയിലേക്ക് എന്നപോലെ. അന്ന് മനുഷ്യന് ചന്ദ്രനിലേക്ക് വെറുതെ നടന്നു ചെല്ലാം.

ചന്ദ്രന്‍റെ രൂപാന്തരങ്ങളില്‍ ഏതോ ഒന്നില്‍ അവിടുത്തെ പര്‍വതനിരകള്‍ നമുക്ക് ഇവിടെ നിന്നു കാണാന്‍ ആവും. നോക്കി ഇരിപ്പാണു ഞാന്‍, ഭൂമിയുടേതല്ലാത്ത പര്‍വതങ്ങള്‍ കാണുവാന്‍. അങ്ങനെ ഇരിക്കുമ്പോള്‍ ആശ്ചര്യപ്പെട്ടുപോവും. ദീപ്തി ഇല്ലാതെയും മേന്മയേറിയ വെള്ളി പോലെ തിളങ്ങുന്നു. എത്രയോ അകലത്തില്‍ ആണു ചന്ദ്രികേ നിന്‍റെ സൂര്യന്‍; എന്നിട്ടും? ഒരു കഥ ഞാന്‍ മെനയും.

സൂര്യ: ചന്ദ്രികയേ.. അക്ഷയപാത്തിരത്തില്‍ തതുമ്പും അമുതെന എന്‍ കാതല്‍ വഴിന്തു ഉന്‍ ഇദയം നോക്കി പായ്ക്കിറത്. ഉന്‍ മനക്കതവുകളൈ സട്ര് തിറപ്പായാ?

ചന്ദ്രിക: എന്ട്രാല്‍ ഇന്ത ഉലഹം തെരിന്തു കൊള്ളും.

സൂര്യ: ഉലഹൈ കണ്ട് ഉമക്ക് അയ്യം എതര്‍ക്ക്?

ചന്ദ്രിക മറയത്തേക്ക് നീങ്ങും.

സൂര്യ: കൂരായോ കോമളമേ? ഇന്ത ഉലഹൈ കണ്ട് ഉമക്ക് അയ്യം എതര്‍ക്ക്?

ചന്ദ്രിക മൌനിയാകും. അവള്‍ മറഞ്ഞു പോവും.

സൂര്യ: എന്‍ കനക കതിര്‍കള്ക്ക് കുമുദ ജറി നെയ്യും ദേവ വിത്തൈ എനക്ക് കട്ര്‌തര വാരായോ എന്‍ രജിത തൂരികയേ?

സ്വര്‍ണനൂലുകളെ വെള്ളികെട്ടുന്ന കലാവൈഭവം സിദ്ധിയായി വരിച്ച്, ചന്ദ്രക്കല മെല്ലെ തെളിയും. ഒരു പ്രണയകാവ്യം അവിടെ തുടങ്ങും. ഗ്രഹണങ്ങള്‍ക്കായി അവര്‍ കാത്തിരിക്കുന്നു. സൂര്യഗ്രഹണത്തിലെ വിനാഴികകള്‍ അവരുടേതു മാത്രം ആവുന്നു, അവരുടെ സ്നേഹം ആവുന്നു. ഇനിയെന്ന് കാണുമെന്നോ, കാത്തിരിക്കുമെന്നോ വാഗ്ദാനങ്ങള്‍ ഇല്ലാതെ പിരിഞ്ഞു പോവും.

അത്രയും ആവുമ്പോളേക്കും ഞാന്‍ പുഞ്ചിരിയെ ഒരു വശത്തേക്ക് അടക്കിനിര്‍ത്തും. നിശബ്ദമായ ആകാശത്തിനു ശാന്തതയുടെ ഭാവമാണ് എന്‍റെ മനസ്സില്‍. ആയിരംകോടി സൂര്യനുകളെ പേറിയും ആകാശം അതാ കറുത്തു തണുത്തു വിശാലമായി, വെറുതെ അങ്ങനെ അലസമായി. മാസ്മരികത കണ്ണു നനയിക്കും, കൊതിപ്പിക്കും.

സംസ്കൃത വാക്കുകള്‍ ഉള്‍പ്പെട്ടിരിക്കുന്ന പ്രാചീനമായ സെന്തമിഴ് ആണ് സൂര്യന്‍റെയും ചന്ദ്രന്‍റെയും സംഭാഷണത്തിനായി ഉപയോഗിച്ചിരിക്കുന്നത്. ഇന്നത്തെ കാലഘട്ടത്തില്‍ സംസാരിച്ചുപോരുന്ന തമിഴ്, സെന്തമിഴില്‍ നിന്നു വ്യത്യസ്തമാണ്.


ഉമക്ക് – ഉനക്ക് (present tamil) / നിനക്ക് (malayalam) / you (English)
അയ്യം – ഭയം (present tamil) / ഭയം (malayalam) / fear (English)
കൂരായോ – സൊല്ലായോ (present tamil) / പറയുകില്ലേ (malayalam) / won’t you speak (English)

സംസ്കൃതം ഉച്ചാരണത്തില്‍ ഏര്‍പ്പെടുത്തുന്ന പ്രാധാന്യം മനസ്സിലാക്കുന്നു. മലയാളത്തിലെ അക്ഷരങ്ങള്‍ കൊണ്ട്‌ അവയോടു നീതി പുലര്‍ത്താന്‍ ശ്രമിക്കുകയാണ്.

സംഭാഷണത്തിന്‍റെ അകപ്പൊരുള്‍:

അക്ഷയപാത്രത്തില്‍ തുളുമ്പി നില്‍ക്കും അമൃതുപോലെ സൂര്യന്‍റെ സ്നേഹം ചന്ദ്രികതന്‍ ഹൃദയത്തിലേക്ക് ഒഴുകുവാന്‍ കൊതിക്കുന്നു. അവളുടെ മറുപടിയ്ക്കായി സൂര്യന്‍ കാത്തുകിടക്കുന്നു. എന്നാല്‍ ചന്ദ്രികയ്ക്ക് ഭയമാണ്, ലോകം അറിയുമോ എന്ന് അവള്‍ ചിന്തിച്ചുകൊണ്ടേ ഇരിക്കുന്നു. ലോകത്തിനു വെളിച്ചം ആവുന്ന സൂര്യന്‍ ചന്ദ്രികയ്ക്കു ധൈര്യം പകര്‍ന്നുകൊടുക്കുവാന്‍ ശ്രമിക്കുന്നുവെങ്കിലും ചന്ദ്രിക ഭയന്ന് മറയത്തേക്ക് ഒതുങ്ങിനില്‍ക്കുന്നു. സ്വര്‍ണകിരണങ്ങളെ വെള്ളികെട്ടുന്ന ദൈവവിദ്യ കൈവശമാക്കിയ കലാകാരി എന്നാണു സൂര്യന്‍ ചന്ദ്രികയെ വിശേഷിപ്പിക്കുന്നത്. അവളുടെ ദിവ്യതൂലിക കാണുവാന്‍ സൂര്യന്‍ ആഗ്രഹം പ്രകടിപ്പിക്കുന്നു.

Thanks to the magnanimous hearts – Libin Benedict and Maneesha SaRa

Wipe off that smile

Oh thats a nice career option you have in mind ! But have you imagined all its facets. To be an airhostess is not only about being beautiful; well you are beautiful without doubt, you are tall, fair, your body satisfies a seeker and is maintained. you are best to be in the position of an airhostess.

I felt shy in the way he was describing me. But I was curious to uncover secrets to an air hostess’s dream. The way he gazed, I felt the air around me has diluted itself into an unbreathable form and I struggled to breath.

You know what dear, have you ever thought about real situations you might need to handle as a hostess out there. Now looking straight into my eyes and now to my folded fingers and to my bare foot. What if one of the passengers liked you too much that he kisses you on your lips.

The words kissing on my lips went straight piercing into my heart and it ached. In my country those words are ugly and dirty till you cross an obscure limit. I was embarrassed and wished to get off from this man’s sight. That was how I wanted to answer his question; by running away. But he insisted to think. The air around me had now turned thinner or thick like brick and I wished to faint.

But I did not faint and had to find an answer ; to set my body and mind free. But even if I managed to faint, I knew it was momentary. I was sure that this moment was going to leave its marks. It was going to be a scar on the line of life.

The position he was in, I thought it was awful to express my emotion and to look dull. I forced a smile and tried to mutter some words. But all I could produce was that awkward curves upon my lips. How often do beings fall into the constraint of curving their bodily parts unwillingly. I believe and strongly feel that these situations in its full manifest could have been felt by all human beings. But is it so; I am skeptic. Pardon me; how often do men pass gender embarrassments in true width and depth.

Listen to a story: A girl didn’t speak but grieved it all; she was weak. A lady did shout; she was celebrated and tagged. A prostitute denied her rewards because he wasn’t of her quality. She didn’t speak the story because she didn’t bother. That feminine style is your story of crisis. I wouldn’t call her bold but woman.

Why are you silent. I see that you are confused. Maybe you wish to have the details. Walk with me into my house I can kiss you on your lips and you would naturally find an answer, your emotions would flow out at once. He tabbed on my frock and his fingers did touch my garment where it covered one of my thigh. His eyes wandered my face looking for a consent to escort me into the anglo indian house.

I was confused if I had to go in with him or had to reject. Firstly I was confused because I thought that he was so keen to help me discover myself; how sensitive I would or wouldn’t be to a kiss on my lips from an acquaintance. Secondly I felt as if standing on dirt and my whole body would immerse into it soon. Thirdly I was confused about how to reject politely and show my genuine regret to his keenness. But I was faking it all. None was true and I knew that too.Run away, run away now, your legs are strong. I could hear my heart.

If I could traverse time to meet me in past, on this particular time of the day, and granted a wish to alter only one thing about it. I would wipe off that smile for the adolescent me. Let her be genuine, no scars to remain.

His stupendous picture

He ran into his one room home, very much happy for the broken bits and pieces of colour chalks he got. He wanted to paint, paint something at once.

He paused a moment in front of his wall as if imagining the picture to be drawn. Then he started drawing, his hands moving at a high pace. His Fingers twisting and turning, he was using all the energy he had. Eyes focused on his new canvas, mind calculating the measurements.

He drew a tree, precisely at the central position on the wall. What else could be drawn, he imagined. Then he started again, the sky, then the flying birds, then the shining sun. That was it, his portrayal looked content. He has drawn his mind.

He took out all those pieces of chalks he had. The picture was ready to be coloured. Apparently he noticed that the chalks were all blue, shades of blue; Dark blue, light blue, darkest blues and so on.

With no confusion, he started painting the picture. Light blue sky, dark blue sun shine, darker blue birds flying and another blue tree. He was colouring them all with what ever he had, no limitation obscuring his thoughts. He knew his picture; the mindfulness of a child.

His eyes stoped its motion, his lips widened. He has finished painting. His picture is ready to be showcased. Two steps backward and he marvelled the artistry. The blueness becoming his favourite fragment.


I am seeing a dream. A vast stage is being set for a play. The play was to begin now. I kept my eyes closed. The characters came in one by one. Their thick maquillage showed out. Each character has chosen a colour. One was red, the other one black, then blue and white and so on and so forth.

Their play was a mime. Each one trying hard to play their roles well. The red one was in the mood for love, the white one was about to commit a suicide, the green one was just born, the black one welcomed the green and wished the white a farewell. The blue one ran to everyone and begged for forgiveness.

I kept my eyes closed. The play continues. Characters of mine are competing each other. I was their God, they are all my imagination. I know this play. My fingers fidgeting the threads and springs. I pulled one of them off the stage. I changed his colour and pushed him to return to the stage. I laugh and laugh.

They are starting a dance. A percussion instrument is played and they dance to its rhythm. Their shoes striking hard on the floor of the stage. They are all dancing well, I see. The music growing to full allegro and there I chose a moment, I open my eyes. They vanish into the thin air. All of them are gone. Their dance has gone. I laugh and laugh.

Then I play a game. I close my eyes and I see the stage again. They are dancing again. I feel Godly or I feel Devilish. I open my eyes again and they vanish again. I close and open and open and close. They dance and stop and stop and dance. Dance and dance and stop and stop. I laugh and laugh.

But then they stop, they stop the dance. My eyes are still closed but they have stoped their dance. One by one they descended the stage. I open my eyes and they are still there. The black, the white, the red, the blue…around me. I close my eyes and they are still there.. They laugh and laugh.

Voices Choices

I see the unseen shadows. Shadows of darknesses wings, fluttering at the window. They are here to gift me those wings. Silver lined, white feathered wings. The miracle is happening, right in front of my eyes. Blessed are my eyes. My dream to fly is a touchable distance away.
I hear voices, voices from the darkness, getting closer as it could. They whisper in my ears. What is this language, what are they saying. I try to listen but I can only hear those voices with no comprehension made. Why do I bother, the wings are already here. As close as it could be.

The voices getting louder now. As if they shout, They are shouting a word. A word, a single word…Less? Legs.? Yes I hear it now, they say Legs. I get it now. Chill run through my spine. To have the wings, My legs would be taken.

Wings are my dream but my legs would be taken. Wings are marvellous but my legs are precious. It would cause me great pain.I see the beauty of the wings but I am standing on my legs, mine alone, till this moment. I raise a hand towards the sky, to run my fingers through the whiteness of the feathers. My legs getting thinner and I stop at once.

I recognise those voices now. They are the voices of those who have already left, I have known them for long but now they can only be heard. Voices without their bodies are here to help me. They have done their part, but they are still here. Waiting to hear my choice.

Choice, the choice is all mine. All things wait, for one word of mine. I stand still, like the water without a ripple or a wave. Wings are marvellous, legs are precious. Each moment pass, lessening my life, bit by bit. This wait is not true, this is a temporary delusion. When the wrong moment comes, the wait chain would break.

My mind splits; my body needs those wings and my body needs my legs. I stand still.. Dead still.

Vanished window

I noticed that the window on my wall has vanished. I do not remember when I saw it last but I am sure the window was there. I hadn’t opened it for a while but I remember the sights It held, they weren’t those ravishing panorama of nature, they were ordinary sights from daily life; original life.

I walked up to the wall, it is rigid and rough. The window has left no mark, no sings of it stayed. I leaned onto the wall and pressed my ears upon, I could hear those noises from the other side, noises from those ordinary lives; original lives.

I desire a glimpse for one last time. I would observe it all, I would enjoy every detail; I promise. I imagined those sights. Prosaic it was, sunshine carried humid hot air. Dusty winds and rustling leaves, crossroads to choose your journey but people sat on the pathway facing eviction and destitution.

I am sad. I am missing those sights and missing my window. My window was old, with perishing woods and rusted panes. Jammed to itself, abandoned and wrecked. Just like those sights it shown, the frame to it was mundane too. My window was my chance to see the world.

As I could remember, those sights were monotonous. Life when original is always so, on a canvas it would look beautiful though. Art was the fine line between the ugly and fancy. My window has vanished and the sights are blinded. In my imagination, remains a fantastic poetry.

Those ordinary sights are becoming my precious. The void wall, proved the power of something and nothing. One more chance, one last view. I am deprived, But the window has vanished and sights are afar. The original shrinks and imagination the widens.

Don’t waste time

That evening was going to be special, not for me alone, it is special for Vivek too. Vivek and me are married for an year now and tonight we are taking a decision to part our ways. Nothing less or nothing more, Vivek is just a perfect man to my eyes. This decision is not an act of atonement. Both of us have decided to live independently for the rest of our lives.

A bottle of Hennessy Bras occupied our table, he has chosen my choice. Vivek was a man with cleanliness. More than hygienic, I would rather wish to call him an artist of life. He was a man with the idea of space. As he says, around every thing, living or non living, their needed space. Nothing was to be stuffed, as if it where ready to accept more. Our house could be one of the example of spacing idea; the wall was decorated with one single portrait leaving immense space around, this drew attention to the picture and calmness to the viewer. Mimesis doesn’t interest me but you do fall into the loop by a silent pull. Needless to say that I practise the space idea and I like it too.

Legally falling apart was going to be a procedure but it seems it is easier when it is mutually agreed. There were other matters on which agreement wasn’t needed. We did share a healthy friendship and that was going to stand. It was like any other evening; easy and calm. As we wished each other a good night sleep, my mind was full with the thoughts about my parents. Convincing them was going to be a tedious job but I will achieve it finally.

I was at my office desk as I thought about the new ways of life I was going to practice. Plenty of personal time, going back to those half read books, random journeys and most of all immense of solitude. A new joy was born in my mind. I rearranged the desk to remove the unwanted. As Vivek says, adding was easy but removing was art. Desk looked beautiful.

A split second was an ample portion of time for life to change. To me it was a phone call. As I disconnected the line, I was in front of those swaying doors of Intensive care unit. A road accident and Vivek is at emergency care. Vivek will not leave his bed anymore, the God doctor has written his fate. We had a discussion to be made with our parents today evening and they were all here already, way before time and we had nothing to converse. I could hear voices, voices of minds standing around me. There was enough space but none of those faces expressed calmness.

I walked to his bed side, he was conscious. Our eyes locked more than usual. I was happy to see him alive. This man was special to me, the moment was Devine, the realisation was new. We felt intense love, we smiled. Out of his room, I sat relaxed. Life was changing and I was at the accepting end. All I wanted was to spend more time with Vivek. I wished we were at home. I waited till the last person left us. We felt like newly wed. Eagerly I started my new life with Vivek. Such a romantic couple we were.

I used to dream about a simple life but the one offered to me is much simpler. Books became our visitors. He read for me and I read for him. Together we travelled the globe through our discussions, fell with ease into the bottomless pit of love, raised high to the limitless sky, sang songs, conversed on philosophy of mind and body. Enjoyed nature and its colours; rain, river, mountains and mists. Day, night and early sunshines. God, religion and devilish angels. Being with him became my only desire. He was mine and I am an obsessed lady in love.

How would our kids look?  What will their character be like? Will they become readers, writers, philosophers or just another human being? As per Vivek, they could be a barber, a milk man or a delivery boy; Three people who used to visit our house. We were excited at this idea. We made love, this time with a wish. We had three children and a crowded house. We did not spend time to teach them life, instead we showed them our own lives. I liked my family but I liked Vivek more. We had our small world getting more closer each day, each night. If I would have ever divorced, I would have such a boring life to deal with. Thanks to the accident, I have one fine reason to exist.

Vivek died yesterday. Like a bird who has travelled the world, I am content. Life was worth living. We weren’t the best match but to find a better match would have been a waste of time.