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.”

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.

Pyre

He wandered right into the light that had burned his eyes. He’d never know the embers if he don’t touch ‘em.

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.

Give Me a Hand

A heart glowed on the road down his window. Its light hurt his eyes. Won’t let him sleep. Never let him sleep in the nights. Closing his eyes won’t help. The light made everything that came in its way transparent. He had to get up and go to the window. He found a boy coming down the street, his eyes lowered. He hung his head out and cried -

“Hey there, kid. Would you mind turning the heart off on your way?”

May I Borrow Your Lighter Please?

I carved shadows on the midnight rains. A whole lot of despondent footprints on the water. Somewhere, underneath the third layer of the waters, I left you back with oblivion. But your shadows were lighter than the water. They came up on the surface of the water and floated with the kerosene.

“I love the smell of kerosene”, you used to say.

Matchsticks. Drenched shadows in memories. Darkness. A drop of water from the tap, repetetive. Music on your bathroom floor. The intoxicating fragrance of kerosene. I saw you dancing with the flames inside your eyes. That night, you didn’t let me in.

Tonight, I walk through the infinite corridors of the burnt-out rain.