I thought things would be as it were. Nothing much would change in this world of mine. But on a dull misty morning I sensed the changes had already set in action a while ago and I’m just catching up with the after effects. The sun was red as it were in the sky last week I saw. But the sky had lost its lustre. The blue of it kind of seemed faded away like it somehow escaped at a different angle from the prism than it naturally does and escaped. It was all grey today, a graduating grey between the pits of the moon to the one in our neighbours cat. I didn’t let it bother me though. Things seem out of place sometimes. The butterflies that migrate this season, traveling south for warmer places felt normal. Until this one which broke the flow by flying north. Must be a lonely anarchist I thought. Then there were few more. An awful lot of dragonflies today. That’s quite natural this season you might say. May be. But the point is, if you listen to their wings flutter long enough, their uneasiness creep in like the shadow that follows in day light. Sticking to soul darkness lurches. Never pay attention to them, I tell myself. But I think you can already sense the anxiety set in. The crabs took too much time to peek out today. I didn’t wait up for them. This isn’t my setting, I need to get away, I thought. Then I see the waning moon still lingering on the sky. I couldn’t find a reason for the moon to lurk around that long, like it had no where else to be. I know it has been that way, but not today in my thoughts. Even the pigeons flew in a fashion unfathomable to this simple mind this morning. Their flow has been obstructed and they landed like an orchestra out tune. Whom to blame here, the conductor or the musician. An unnecessary chaos had set the whole wind loopy and it seemed to have affected the pigeons as well. I couldn’t bear. Everything’s is set loose. Like the chain that bound my heart, together. No, it wasn’t bound to the chains but only bound by it. You’ll understand when I state how it grew in size once it was set loose. Cramped all these days, it inflates and intumesce into all the spaces it could find in the cavity. It kept growing, crushing my lungs now, squeezing the air out. I’m unable to catch this breath, this air doesn’t seem to pass down this track. I crumble in these sands with this step I take. Please touch the wind and cure it off the illness it carries and set this world in order. It’s been a little chaotic.
