கடற்கரையில் பட்டாம்பூச்சிக்கு என்ன வேலை
தேன் வார்க்கும் பூக்களுமில்லை
உடன் பறக்க நட்புக்களுமில்லை
கரை நோக்கி வீசும் எதிர்காற்றில்
தன் சிறகுகளை கூர் தீட்ட
மனல்மோதும் அலைகள் மேலே பயணிக்கறதா
இல்லை சிறகடிப்பால் காற்றை செதுக்கி
நாளை என்றோ எங்கோ வரவிருக்கும்
ஒரு சூறாவளியை மெல்ல வடிக்கிறதோ
As he drowned in the sea, the memories left him slowly, like the little pockets of air that escaped his body and popped as they hit the air.
He could now understand the beaching of the whales. Why would an intelligent being of the seas would seek land and crash ashore, claiming the only possibility of death? Even though he doesn’t have an answer, he could understand the pain that would cause it. Same as he has this urge to drown in this sea.
As he discovered the depths of the ocean, the cloak of the water above blocked even the little ray of hope from getting to him, plunging him slowly into darkness. The salty water rushed into his lungs and started engulfing the life from within. He just wanted to feel something. The numbness of the real world had overtook his senses and transformed him into one in the flock, putting him in a queue to slow death. He couldn’t take it anymore, he just wanted to feel a little bit of anything, to feel alive. Even if it was pain, he was fine with it. But this amount of pain, he was not ready for it. There were no regrets though, it was his decision.
It got too dark to see himself as he sank into the bottom. He needed to see himself to make sure he’s still there and not dissolved into the darkness around. He wasn’t even quite sure of his physical presence and wondered if he was dead already in the waters. Just to make sure he took the only source of light he had, his burning heart, in his own hands, carving his body. He held his fiery red heart out in his hands with the remote hope of dispersing the darkness around. But the water seeped into it, putting the flame out tardily. He watched his heart slowly pump in and pump out the saline water through the arteries and veins. As the water consumed every space within him the last pocket of air left his body and along with it escaped a bit of his burning heart, like a red spark. The tiny bubble traveled up and surfaced and popped as it saw the sky. And at that instant, a moment between life and death, he disappeared without a trace.
The ocean was left unperturbed.
Do any of you feel like screaming,
at a random place, better if it’s an open area, just shout the life out of you, empty your lungs through your vocal chord and test its limit? But you don’t want anyone to notice you. Everybody just go about their business like it was nothing notable. In a little while, just when you’re about to turn around, at a distance, you hear someone screaming the living shit out of them, just because you gave them the courage. And you feel content in that as you know you are not alone.
And the scream goes around the globe, like the echoes of the wolves on a full moon day.
“What do you see in her?”
“I don’t see her. I literally haven’t. At least in a while. But even metaphorically I don’t see her. I listen to her. I close my eyes and read through her. I imagine her voice with a million possibilities and when it didn’t synch with what I heard, I cursed myself for not listening properly.”
“But what does the voice got to do with you listening, what crap are you talking about?”
“See, you walk through the forest..”
“You mean you walk through the forest!?”
“No, I mean you. You embody yourself and put yourself in person on some setting such as a forest”
“OK”
“Now what do you see?”
“A way”
“It’s a fucking forest, how do you see a way?”
“But you asked me what I saw, and that’s what i see.. if I should see something in particular tell me then, I’ll go with it”
“Fuck that!”
“No, go on. I’m in the forest”
“You know what, it was much easier when we didn’t know each other that much”
Thought may be I should write. Or may be I shouldn’t. The thoughts were haunting me as memories now, taking up ploys and plots to crumble me to bits with the gloom reality of the ordeals to follow this. This here, me dragging my body to the grave pit a day after another in no hurry. May be I’m in a hurry or I tell myself otherwise. I look around, not just me. Everybody’s dragging their baggage, themselves, along the edge of the world. Why is the world spinning? Who spun it atop this space hanging in silk spun off gravity? Among the myriad possibilities of the lifeless stardust, you end up knocking on her doorstep. She refuses to answer to the stranger that comes knocking that day. She enquired though and spoke momentarily to know what I was selling. I lied I wasn’t selling anything while I was almost begging for her to take my soul in return for nothing. Nothing was the payment I expected. Acceptance is much more enjoyable than trade. Only I had to leave with nothing, for she had nothing to give me nor did have nothing reasonable to take up on my offer to take up my soul. So I left with nothing, nothing on my soul. No returns. Just the burden I drag to my pit. Doors I do not seek any. For the sweat broke on knocking will soften the journey as I plough for the seeds to break through. Point is not to be meaningful. Point is to be.
Just another day. Another ordinary day where you rip off the yesterday out of your head and walk into today’s shoes. Where were you headed yesterday? Are you in the same path as you were when you left it? Did you had to start from the same point or the earth has moved it a tiny bit for you? How do you know where you left the way last night in the dark? When is where in this neverwhere? Do you have to start from the same time as well? Then does it make yesterday today? Or does it make today yesterday?? Or do we have to wait till tomorrow??? Are you still walking the walk? Could you trace back the way? Not in your memories, in real? Walk back few steps before you took a turn and then would you take the same turn? Or out of curiosity, would you take the other? What mind numbing possibilities could all the turns could have lead us into? It’s not a choice you see, taking that turn. May be it appears to be so, bit it ain’t. Choice is when you know what the other outcomes might be. And there’s are no two goats and a car to choose from. You open the door and walk through it. The other doors might even be walled out or a door way to another life. But you’ll never know. And it’s not a choice for you to make. Cause no one ever tells you that the doors are even there. You just walk through endless doors, turn at every turn, every step of the way. There’s nothing more to that. It doesn’t add up to shit. Every turn you meet someone new, you shake hands and part. May be someone you know, if you’re lucky. But you part ways. And step ahead on that wire. The door. The path. It’s not a choice, it’s just your absurd life.
“What is bothering you so much?”
“You. Your mere existence. The fact that you exist like this shining bright orb in the sky but only a billion miles away. Light years ahead of me and away from me. Eternally moving. Forever graciously. And the only way I could reach you is to lose all that matters and move ahead in light speed. But that won’t be enough. May be I should move faster than light and turn around time and find a better spot in the time-space where we would at least be in proximity of physical reach within our lifetime. Else I could also look for leakage in the continuum and try and slip into some dark spot to find you in some other plane of existence beyond our own.”
“But why!?”
“How would I know? It’s gravity. Maybe. Mere laws of attraction, trying to pull the whole world together. An invisible cloak stitching us into this fabric of existence. Keeping us together and yet far apart. Why would the apple fall from the tree? And not drift and fall far away? I’m no Newton but I’ll like to find out why. Just so that I could sleep in peace and for the love of humanity and bitter curiosity.”
“What’s in it for me then?”
“Pain. As a reminder of your mortal existence. The type you get used to and miss it when it’s gone. The type that seems tough at first and turns pleasurable. Pleasure. If you let it in. And more of it, if you let it devour you. May be a mix of both. But that’s life isn’t it. May be we can experience it in a larger scale. If at all I survive your scorching temperatures and manage to revolve around you, so I could sustain. Else I’m gonna crash and sink and dissolve into the ether.”
What is that you seek, is beyond reach. And the why is that you seek, is within you. A bridge between these two is the how is that you seek and that makes all the difference.
Writing slowly faded away from the stage. The flashing neons burned the synapses that lit the words into visions. Words were now a reminiscent of a lost era. A monochromatic melody that plays only for the auteuristic pleasure. Less was appreciated more than more as they might overheat the overclocked brain. The span has to be minimal to gain attention. The letters were merely tapped. No shapes to them anymore. They are just a string that only serves the purpose. And then dies. A blink was enough to lose track of a molding metaphor. The meanings were lost in the makeup and the madness were lost in the performances. They were mere voices. Echoing in the empty wells. The ink, has it dried? The strokes were made now only for signatures, the abomination of alphabets. Other times to answer the unlearnt questions that you vehemently hate. No, now they are just blobbed. Even love doesn’t need the ethereal scripture that could be burnt. They were all now stored forever in the clouds along with the nudes. Even the blackboards turned white to screen the images that sliced into the matters. Everything were made easy. And all the curves became corners. But people kept jutting into each other more than often. The horizons slowly disappeared. And then the earth became flat.
Be a teacher. Handle the chaos of the classroom and bring order to the world for a moment. Learn the beauty in chaos as well. Inspire the living and instill will upon the weak. Enjoy the toll it takes on your personal life. Be a shadow behind the screen at least in a single soul. Do not invoke fear. Evoke freethoughts. Stand by the example you are worshipped for. Don’t shun curiosity. Put the cat in Schrödinger’s box. Let it decide what to do with the poison.
