Storms ruled the first thousand years of life.
By the time I claimed my room, I turned into a zombie...
Suspended somewhere between the worlds within and outside...
Vaguely aware of either...
But then, existence needs more meaning, and spectacles need a windowpane...
Right here, I found mine…

Who am I? An average woman - trying to work on my share of maze through layers of haze...

Thursday, October 05, 2017

Stealth, Death, Resurrection and the Garden of Eden

Source: Me!
Story 1: Stealth
It was one of those less sunny August afternoons when I escaped for a stroll. It wasn’t an item to be crossed off my to-do list. Neither was it an act of rebellion; although it was true that I had felt restless and repulsive for many days then. I hardly knew what my eyes wished to see, so I loitered along sleepy houses in narrow alleys with vehicles parked on both sides. My phone rang; a dear voice wanted to know what I was doing. I lied. Of course, I didn’t need to.
What was I stealing from him?
Time.
Story 2: Death and Resurrection
On a less sunny August afternoon, I escaped for a stroll. The world had been clanging all around me; my mind wanted to flee. I thought I wanted to go somewhere far. Far from whom? I wasn’t sure. I ambled along houses that held stories within, until braided women eyed me with suspicion. I tried to make myself smaller, inconspicuous, non-existent. My soul walked along to reach the Garden of Eden.
The garden had playful squirrels chasing each other. I sat on a bench quietly and called back my body. After ‘a hundred years of solitude’, I felt whole again.
Story 3: The Garden of Eden
It was on an August afternoon that I discovered the Garden of Eden. It was quite a chance discovery, not something meant to be. I was walking alone, partly disillusioned, partly distracted, when the broken concrete of the nameless alley gave way to scattered patches of un-manicured grass. I looked up, distinctly conscious, for the breeze here smelt different. And spread before my eyes was a solemn island of green, complete with unloved flowers, papery butterflies and playful squirrels chasing each other. Murmurs of leaves drowned distant car horns.
It was on an August afternoon that I hugged myself back.
Originally published in 'Lit Up'.

The Indian Blogger Awards 2017

2 comments:

  1. Each one is a gem. Each one starts alike but saunters down a different path only to converge towards the end. The discoveries at the end fill the jigsaw puzzle. They can stand alone and they can stand in unison.

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    1. 'They can stand alone and they can stand in unison.' - Yes, this is what I intended to achieve. Glad that you saw that and found this naive effort of mine worth commenting. Your words provide a lot of encouragement to folks like me who have just managed to push their other priorities aside and start their journey into the world of regular writing. Thank you.

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