Blessings. The fading, familiar sound of the white pearls kissing the tin roof. With intervals in between, the early night sky roars in anger, the lightening accompanying the angst. My watch says its 30 minutes past 10. Under the cozy blanket, a peace-less me rests – reminiscing the memories of an assamese monsoon of july 2010. That fear says hello again. there, she bellows again. as if with a jerk, my whole being surfaces on my conscious self. She flows right beside me. She who travelled away with so many breaths beneath her. I tell myself, assuring, this too shall pass.
That 3-fold dream lies orphaned within her. Its all about this moment, this one single moment. When tomorrow’s dawn smiles me goodmorning, here I shall go, with the white& the blue as escorts. Walking amidst yearning, beseeching faces, escaping hopeful eyes, crafting my way clean through shaken, shadowless dreams. She who veils her voice behind her beauty shall scream at me claiming my aiding attention. I shall pause; look back and then continue my steps ahead. They bathe and quench their thirst through her, managing to still carry their cosmic smiles; oblivious of the crippled world they are growing up to. ‘I wish’, I whisper to my heart & push ahead. They say beasts are more loyal than nature’s highest creature. How credible! Wiggling its bushy tail, it makes those expressions; the ones which are made when strangers walk into our homes. It’s masters have been gushed away and so have their sweat. Yet it continues to wait. Helpless yet hopeful because that is it’s only home, nevermind the sky for the roof. Far ahead, the mustard shines under the midday sun. a hug is gifted. I discover a surge of emotions embedded somewhere deeper than my reach. She smiles with twinkling eyes, filled with incessant dua. The vocalized language stands elusive in the profoundness of the language of hearts. The tin thumbs against my roof again. the fear continues. The fingers sweat as I struggle to hold the ink. I kiss her palm top and step ahead.
Perceived as my life, lived as my fear. But then again, a familiar moment approaches. Déjà vu with the golden, about-to ripe paddy greens, intoxicating vastness of the blues and fresh breath through the dust of the soil happens. I tell myself, I am home. One of my careless days. Just like my pristine country, this canvas too is splashed with that only shade of green, which is unpleasant to the sight. The green that shines with grey realities speaking of possession – of heartbeats, of homes, of happiness. The only hue remaining to complete the canvas was the blue-turned-brown one - brushing the image of an expecting mother. The piercing wails of her children that fill the ear’s farthest escape. They have been promised; metals and pearls shall give each other company this time around. The windows bang against their panes, the fear grows.
I halt again, its all a dream; one of gays and greys. My feet perspire as I pinch my skin. its all a dream and this fear shall pass too. After all, aren’t our rosy cheeks innately defined as bloody too? I murmur to her and saunter ahead, with a tight grip on my blank white and empty blue.
11:15pm, Autumn 2014
A lonely hotel room in a
A place called jannat