Love: An Introduction

Her skin was aglow when she was excited. One evening, in her excitement she slit her skin somehow. Light particles poured all over the street. They gushed towards a direction the slope went.

People who slept in their bedrooms became conscious of this light. It was as if a million light bulbs rolled through the streets. They stepped out of their houses and danced in that light. Bathed in it. And they all gushed along with the light.

There was a blind man in the town, however, who unperturbed by the light went in the opposite direction, against the slope. He discovered the girl.

And as he waltzed with her in silence, he exclaimed – “I’ve seen many darknesses, none as colorful as yours.”

Death: An Introduction

He dismissed her memories as dark thoughts because she disappeared with the night.

He dismissed himself too, as dark thoughts because he disappeared within her.

Light: An Introduction

He cracked one of his eyes in the most recent of the accidents. Some light escaped right inside his head through the chasms. It illumined some of his darker thoughts.

He learnt to smile.

People learnt to find assurance in his most casual of smiles.

… Until he blinked his eyes.

A Journal on Time & Space

Yesterday, for the first time the night was dark. You were right! It really is beautiful. And very well designed too.

I remember the times you wanted to teach me the handicraft. Said I could too weave a blanket out of darkness. And I had kept stumbling in the blinding whiteness.

But it shan’t be wrong ever again. Yesterday I fixed your left eye to synchronize with the right. At last I can breathe in your darkness.

Yesterday, for the first time again the night is dark.

Songs of Exhaustion

She transposed herself into darkness, every night.

Hid behind it, somewhere.

Behind the shadow of something.

The trees, the houses, the earths.

I went out with a torch.

Illumined every part of those.

Hunting the haunted.

I came back, exhausted.

Every night.

Within the night.

Without her.

With a realization.

She had deep, dark eyes.

Animals – 1: Rabbit

Evenings have turned to their strands. Leaving my hands wet of the manifold orgasms. I kept kicking the pebble and went where it went. Inside you. The clumsy face of our dead children. Careless kids. They’d always keep coming to us. Breaking into sobs as they spoke -

“Dad, Alice just killed me.”

“Johnny, you should be more careful. It’s a tough time we’re living through and we don’t have enough money for a brand new coffin.”

“But she told nothing’d happen. In the end you never fall.”

“What fall are you talking about?”, we would ask, concerned that he might have hurt himself. “Where have you been?”

“I jumped with her into the rabbit hole.”

Meta-

I’ve been singing into the depths of the night. Seeing them banging their heads into the blue. Until drops of blood would splash onto the bluish blue – making it turn purple. Purple. Perplexing. Dissimilar selves walking in and out of themselves. Trying to catch hold of the tears flowing from their bosoms. An investigation called past clinging onto the back of their tongue. Resisting their flow into the lungs and kidneys of being. The eternal darkness of metabolisms and metamorphosis.

I’ve been singing the songs of light into the depths of the knight.

Light

A few colorful lights were stuck in his eyes. He splashes a few wet tears in there. Lights linger. Their color disseminate from the edges. A transmutation of the glowing haze. But the sun never set on the electric light.

He walks in through the snowballs, the sledges and the dances. Walks on to the corner where she sat. Blind as ever, beautiful evermore. She smiles. She knows his presence. And as they waltz through a frenzied crowd she whispers in his ears -

“You know, last night, in one of my dreams, the darkness blinked.”

She was expecting.

The Theory of Magnetism

Dusts fell on my tears. Accumulated. Till your window was darkened by wetness. And suddenly, you remembered the light-bulb I had gifted you long, long back, wrapped in a rose-bud.

“Chase your inner darkness away”, I had said.

Now you knew what I meant. There were rooms in either side of your skin, where you lived, twice. Duplicated in every unfragmented moment. The shadows overlapped.

You decided to swallow the light-bulb after you had carefully peeled off each of the rose petals.

The Week Spent Inside A Palm

“I’m back”, he said. And yet, none answered.

The darkness knocked on her cheekbones. But the door was locked. She slept stagnant on her mute heart. She recognized none anymore.

He pressed his ears on her heart for the last time and whispered, “I’m back”.