“Damn it”, I had to utter when I entered my apartment. I felt that as an involuntary reaction to the unexpected happenings around you. With me, when I just opened the door, the electricity was cut out. It was like all were planned to happen.
Just an hour or so ago, when I started from office, there wasn’t any rain on the way. Then, the invisible doors of clouds opened up as if awaiting my arrival on road. Gosh!!!! And those water sprinkles that prick your face like tiny lil knives through the opening of the helmet. Pity me, for I could not wear the shutter as I was wearing glasses. Tolerating all the prickling sensation, I rode through the traffic as if a poor soul’s future rested on my reaching the apartment. Alas!!! Someone had other plans, I guess. When I was waiting for the green signal behind a lorry (yema’s specially designed vehicle for India), there was a yell behind me, “sir, aapka tyre puncture hain”. “Ahhhhh”, this was me, surprised and turned back to see the soul who took interest to warn me. With a tone of appreciation I asked for the nearest mechanic shed and I wasn’t disappointed as it was just across the road after I go past the signal.
I did find the mechanic shed with some difficulty and handed over the bike to him for I was no expert in bike mechanism. I just knew to accelerate, switch gears and apply brakes. His two young apprentices helped him get the punctured tube out for repair. It took almost three-quarters of an hour for him to mend it. With the amended bouncing tyre, bumping me off my seat when potholes or speed-breakers appear, I took off again to my destination.
I would like to dramatize that this is the plight of you-know-what (I hate to say the word) professional when odds go against him.
Anyway, back in the apartment with darkness greeting me, my mind bent to think if this was a metaphor of sorts to the sulking life. I dried myself and I had a funny feeling in my stomach. I just felt the insides doing a somersault with some ‘grrr’ing noise…that’s the call for dinner, I imagined. To my relief, the rain was suspended for a while and I satisfied my appetite at a nearby place.
I lit a candle and laid a mattress beside, took one of my books and started reading amidst the eerie silence in the room; I could hear my own breath.
Candlelight!!! That could have been anyone’s plan for first date (no surprises, I guess). And there I was lying alone engrossed (not totally) in the book. Often, there were barks and meows I could hear from the neighbourhood and I was unsure as to what triggered them, perhaps they were irritated as I was with the constant raining against the window shades.
I was annoyed a bit coz the electricity cut meant I could not watch the first day’s play of the final India-England test rubber and all I would get was the lonely cricket’s chirping noises. Sometimes, I just looked at the flame of the candle as it would dance to the tune of the air that escaped into the house through the leanest possible exit on the door. My fingers ran past the flame and I brought my index finger and my thumb together towards it as if I was pinching the flame. Aahaa!! It neither hurt nor burnt and the thought that I could cut and pinch through the flame made me feel invulnerable to the fire.
Amidst such brief domestic adventures, I again sank into my book, hoping to hear the starting noise of the tubelight and the fan as I could not sleep without the latter’s noise at the background.
Slowly, my mind seemed to settle and ears opened wide to listen to all the sound that seemed to arise from the darkness outside. It was really sweet and rhythmic. It was like music to the ears and I could feel my heart dance to the tune but at the same time annoyed that it could not keep pace with the music. Occasionally, there was thundering applause from heavens for the symphony created by the tiny rain droplets. And maybe the gods laughed at some amusement below on earth as there were streaks of light drawn over the sky and for a moment, everything around seemed to be dark. There was no candlelight but utter darkness looming over me. I sensed myself touching my arms and face. I was still there but why couldn’t I look at anything. It was then that frightening thought hit me. Am I blind? Am I to lose sight forever? I pulled myself up and walked along hitting the mattress and kicking the book somewhere around the corner. Then, I realized that the sudden streak of light was nothing but lightning and it might have stripped me off my sight.
I wanted to cry but there was hope still left in me and I closed my eyes and sat wherever I was. Then, something bizarre happened; there was a yellowish white glow that tore apart something soft and blue, like the sun. I went totally still for I could hear someone chanting something. I shrunk my eyes and concentrated on what was that and it dawned on me. ‘OMMMMMMM!!’ …. this was constantly going in loop as if someone had recorded.
And a voice spoke, ‘child, it makes me really sad that you have lost your sight. But I should remind you that you had already lost it, for all you would look at was the material things. All your thoughts were on how to earn money and keep yourself sophisticated. When tired by mind and body, you looked for recreation that you went in search for and that you could enjoy with all the money you have got. And in all this, you failed to notice the joy and happiness I try to bring to you. What of the rain, the thunder, lightning, the mountains, rivers, lakes and the snow? What about the birds, animals and other living beings on earth? What about the oceans, trees and blue sky? Don’t they mean anything to you? Don’t they provide enjoyment and recreation to you? Don’t they provide you with peace and serenity? It is all for you and only you to fully enjoy the creation of nature. Please do me a favour and help yourself to the treat I give you’.
Saying this, the voice went blank and the glow disappeared. For a moment, everything again seemed to dissolve in darkness and suddenly, I woke up with a gasp of horror. I noticed that I was still lying on the mattress and the book and the candle were around the corner of the room.
Outside, the symphony and the applause continued, nothing changed and inside I knew everything would not be as same as it was for I realized I need to change.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Monday, August 6, 2007
Deaf, Dumb and the Vacuum
Thoughts have the magnificent attribute to be both frightful and pleasant varying upon the mind that it evolves from. No, we are not to dwell on the debate if mind or heart or brain is the source and fulcrum of all thoughts, for the science is far from establishing the truth and human understanding is at its unfathomable depth.
Consider for the sake of imagination that the process of creation of the universe went haywire and uncontrollable and a huge blunder occurred which was irreparable.
‘What if the whole world is to be contained in a huge vacuum cell?’ supposed my mind.
Few escapists might shelve out this thought awaiting some master of physics to explain them the outcome. And others would brush away the question and continue with their way of life, while few eccentrics (not that I call myself one) would be inclined to ponder upon such so-called unrealistic phenomenon.
Recollecting the basic 9th grade physics, a vacuum contains no medium (air, for that matter) or more abstractly ‘vacuum is created by absence of matter’. The abstract definition will lead us to concluding that the world wouldn’t contain any being (matter). So, sticking to the idea from elementary physics, vacuum is a lack of ‘air’ medium.
A significant part of evolution (of universe and human) has been ‘communication’, without which nothing shall move even a bit further. Be it a moving train or a plane or an ever fluctuating stock market. Everything relies on communication, the genesis of which started when a man ‘talked to’ (or communicated) to another. No one would deny the power of basic communication (talking and hearing). If it were not for this, human ideas wouldn’t have prospered to such levels of modern sophistication.
Getting back to the question of vacuum; this ‘absence of air’ (or a carrier) could block the sound waves and impair our power to communicate, thus we shall no more have the luxury of a medium to project our sound and hence our thoughts or ideas. This shall make each and everyone of us deaf and dumb for we can neither produce meaningful words nor hear even a meaningless grunt.
If the blunder were supposed to happen during the creation of the universe, then we wouldn’t have reached the phase where we are now. Or maybe we would have reached indeed by other means of power (or communication). After all, that’s what evolution is all about; learning to adapt. If the supposed blunder were to occur in the midst of our evolution, I believe, still the humankind would have learnt to adapt and discovered different means to sophisticate itself.
Now, imagining at a lesser scale, what if this vacuum is placed upon an individual which renders him/her deaf and dumb to the society. In such case, there is no such process of evolution, because the individual’s development is governed by the society itself. Being in such a vacuum doesn’t make the individual dumb by mind for he is alive with thoughts and ideas (which, by matter of fact, could turn on a revolution).
Thanks to the society’s advancement and people’s increased openness and acceptability such vacuum is being filled in and doesn’t hinder the progress of the individual any more.
Thus, it really doesn’t matter if the blunder was on a larger scale affecting all the living beings or it was nature’s mal-creation (if I could say that) of an individual, ‘evolution’ has its own source of power to overcome the anomalies and serve a helping hand to the mankind, as a whole, to attain the ‘greater good’ (now, this is another topic open for a blog :-)).
Consider for the sake of imagination that the process of creation of the universe went haywire and uncontrollable and a huge blunder occurred which was irreparable.
‘What if the whole world is to be contained in a huge vacuum cell?’ supposed my mind.
Few escapists might shelve out this thought awaiting some master of physics to explain them the outcome. And others would brush away the question and continue with their way of life, while few eccentrics (not that I call myself one) would be inclined to ponder upon such so-called unrealistic phenomenon.
Recollecting the basic 9th grade physics, a vacuum contains no medium (air, for that matter) or more abstractly ‘vacuum is created by absence of matter’. The abstract definition will lead us to concluding that the world wouldn’t contain any being (matter). So, sticking to the idea from elementary physics, vacuum is a lack of ‘air’ medium.
A significant part of evolution (of universe and human) has been ‘communication’, without which nothing shall move even a bit further. Be it a moving train or a plane or an ever fluctuating stock market. Everything relies on communication, the genesis of which started when a man ‘talked to’ (or communicated) to another. No one would deny the power of basic communication (talking and hearing). If it were not for this, human ideas wouldn’t have prospered to such levels of modern sophistication.
Getting back to the question of vacuum; this ‘absence of air’ (or a carrier) could block the sound waves and impair our power to communicate, thus we shall no more have the luxury of a medium to project our sound and hence our thoughts or ideas. This shall make each and everyone of us deaf and dumb for we can neither produce meaningful words nor hear even a meaningless grunt.
If the blunder were supposed to happen during the creation of the universe, then we wouldn’t have reached the phase where we are now. Or maybe we would have reached indeed by other means of power (or communication). After all, that’s what evolution is all about; learning to adapt. If the supposed blunder were to occur in the midst of our evolution, I believe, still the humankind would have learnt to adapt and discovered different means to sophisticate itself.
Now, imagining at a lesser scale, what if this vacuum is placed upon an individual which renders him/her deaf and dumb to the society. In such case, there is no such process of evolution, because the individual’s development is governed by the society itself. Being in such a vacuum doesn’t make the individual dumb by mind for he is alive with thoughts and ideas (which, by matter of fact, could turn on a revolution).
Thanks to the society’s advancement and people’s increased openness and acceptability such vacuum is being filled in and doesn’t hinder the progress of the individual any more.
Thus, it really doesn’t matter if the blunder was on a larger scale affecting all the living beings or it was nature’s mal-creation (if I could say that) of an individual, ‘evolution’ has its own source of power to overcome the anomalies and serve a helping hand to the mankind, as a whole, to attain the ‘greater good’ (now, this is another topic open for a blog :-)).
Thursday, August 2, 2007
5 x 5 square feet
It is surprising how just a small area of 5x5 sq feet binds one human to stare at a 14” monitor and run his/her fingers over the keyboard to deliver few thousand lines of code and countless number of emails for over a period of time. And before even one realizes the span of time spent on this, one has grandchildren playing at home.
No marks for guessing the profession this blog would refer to. Let’s refer to our protagonist (a.k.a ‘sufferer’) as Theo.
Theo is on cloud nine when he gets a dedicated 5x5 sq feet of area designated as his ‘cubicle’, unaware of its analogy to a caged bird. He is on cloud ten (if there is any) when he receives the sophisticated equipment (lets christen it ‘dumbo’) that would help him connect to the vast pool of information into which he could dive, swim, drink and eat. All this is done with ignorance to the fact that this very object shall possess his life until his judgment day (am being careful not to use the‘d’ word here).
Very soon, Theo gets to share his room with a girl (its up to the reader’s freedom of thought to decide upon the relationship) and it all seemed rosy to start with. As days pass on, Theo cultivates an unusual inkling to stay put at office and enjoy his 5x5 space than the 1200 sq feet lavish apartment of his where someone awaits his arrival. The exciting thought of communicating with someone across countries and timezones distances our friend from his partner. Soon, this behaviour turned into a habit and flared into an obsession.
Such is his obsession that Theo now prefers his dumbo to his partner on his bed. Fortunately or unfortunately, the machine that seems to be a doorstep into a virtual world of reality cannot breed or reproduce (no, this not turning vulgar). Otherwise imagine the possibility of few lil dumbos buzzing around at home calling Theo ‘papa’ in its machinical (I coined it again…hehe) noise.
Days pass and months pass into years, Theo now has to grudgingly leave home everyday not coz he is frustrated with the dumbo but his ill-health needs some repair and home is where it could happen. He has no one but a doctor who visits him daily for his partner had left him (again left to reader’s imagination on her destiny).
The day is not far off when Theo will stop working on the dumbo and has to rest in peace within another cubicle but this time it would be 6x3 sq feet and not his favourite 5x5, where he has ‘lived’ most of his life as compared to his home or his mother’s womb.
It is enthralling to understand how this small piece of space binds a human mind (not to mention the body) and disconnects his relation with the ‘real’ world.
I am quite sure Theo will feel unhappy about the size of the earth where his body would lie for it cannot accommodate his dumbo.
No marks for guessing the profession this blog would refer to. Let’s refer to our protagonist (a.k.a ‘sufferer’) as Theo.
Theo is on cloud nine when he gets a dedicated 5x5 sq feet of area designated as his ‘cubicle’, unaware of its analogy to a caged bird. He is on cloud ten (if there is any) when he receives the sophisticated equipment (lets christen it ‘dumbo’) that would help him connect to the vast pool of information into which he could dive, swim, drink and eat. All this is done with ignorance to the fact that this very object shall possess his life until his judgment day (am being careful not to use the‘d’ word here).
Very soon, Theo gets to share his room with a girl (its up to the reader’s freedom of thought to decide upon the relationship) and it all seemed rosy to start with. As days pass on, Theo cultivates an unusual inkling to stay put at office and enjoy his 5x5 space than the 1200 sq feet lavish apartment of his where someone awaits his arrival. The exciting thought of communicating with someone across countries and timezones distances our friend from his partner. Soon, this behaviour turned into a habit and flared into an obsession.
Such is his obsession that Theo now prefers his dumbo to his partner on his bed. Fortunately or unfortunately, the machine that seems to be a doorstep into a virtual world of reality cannot breed or reproduce (no, this not turning vulgar). Otherwise imagine the possibility of few lil dumbos buzzing around at home calling Theo ‘papa’ in its machinical (I coined it again…hehe) noise.
Days pass and months pass into years, Theo now has to grudgingly leave home everyday not coz he is frustrated with the dumbo but his ill-health needs some repair and home is where it could happen. He has no one but a doctor who visits him daily for his partner had left him (again left to reader’s imagination on her destiny).
The day is not far off when Theo will stop working on the dumbo and has to rest in peace within another cubicle but this time it would be 6x3 sq feet and not his favourite 5x5, where he has ‘lived’ most of his life as compared to his home or his mother’s womb.
It is enthralling to understand how this small piece of space binds a human mind (not to mention the body) and disconnects his relation with the ‘real’ world.
I am quite sure Theo will feel unhappy about the size of the earth where his body would lie for it cannot accommodate his dumbo.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Of bikes and gears
For long, I have wanted to ride a bike (motorcycle for westerners) through the city roads and past the hills and into some distant lands where we (me and my bike; not romantic, aint it?) are totally isolated from the busy noise of the 'madding' (that's Thomas Hardy's) crowd. I used to feel that it is altogether a divine experience to ride on a bike through the pristine nature, getting lost to the sound of leaves floating in a breeze, chirping of birds and the sweet music of the flowing water.
Reality beckoning, I have to get myself out of the Wordsworth’s world for it (riding a bike) is not as poetic as it is imagined above. A bike is, as I realized, a complex collaboration of mechanical and electrical parts that is fuelled to run faster and turn on your adrenaline whenever you see a deserted road.
Having bought a bike recently and riding one for the first time, I should say it (riding) is not a simple task for a beginner, what with changing gears to attain speed, slamming brakes which couples with reducing the gear, managing hand-eye-ear-leg coordination on road…uffff. It is somehow an experience that helps you realize all your senses.
And for those who haven’t tried their hands yet on a bike, a grave mistake done by the International Body of Bike Sciences (not sure if such a thing exists) is that it hasn’t produced a single gearing mechanism that all bike producers can follow. So it will not be your fault if you are to confuse with the order in which the gears appear (some bikes have decreasing order for gears neutral, 1, 2, 3 & 4 and some have it the other way and some have neutrals appearing in between all numeric gears). Here you go; when your bike stops midway on road, you have an excuse (only if you manage to survive).
Add to this complexity, the people and other vehiclers (now, I coined that word…hehe) on road who have no sense of the traffic and seem to wander in their own world. It is as if you are destined to hit atleast one and it is just a matter of time. Here’s where the horn comes into play. As much as I hate someone blowing horn for seeking a way through, I love honking at others to let me through (this is one of the pleasures in a beginner’s learning experienceJ). And there are few people, who honk away to glory, getting carried away with the feeling that honking elevates them to the status of king, signaling their arrival on road.
Painful as though it may seem, I have found a liking to trot a bike in the lowest of gears in a heavy traffic. Now and then, I would want to challenge myself expecting not to ground my leg(s) for support and in the process (it is a nice trick to learn coz this is how one might have to travel in almost all places in our country) looking for gaps to squeeze through the LMVs and HMVs. It’s a pity that no one gets a degree for this new found knowledge.
Finally, after a couple of weeks or so of probation on road, I believe I have mastered the art of riding a bike without having hit any of my fellow road-mates (so far).
After all, the Wordsworth’s world is not far away from reach. :-)
Reality beckoning, I have to get myself out of the Wordsworth’s world for it (riding a bike) is not as poetic as it is imagined above. A bike is, as I realized, a complex collaboration of mechanical and electrical parts that is fuelled to run faster and turn on your adrenaline whenever you see a deserted road.
Having bought a bike recently and riding one for the first time, I should say it (riding) is not a simple task for a beginner, what with changing gears to attain speed, slamming brakes which couples with reducing the gear, managing hand-eye-ear-leg coordination on road…uffff. It is somehow an experience that helps you realize all your senses.
And for those who haven’t tried their hands yet on a bike, a grave mistake done by the International Body of Bike Sciences (not sure if such a thing exists) is that it hasn’t produced a single gearing mechanism that all bike producers can follow. So it will not be your fault if you are to confuse with the order in which the gears appear (some bikes have decreasing order for gears neutral, 1, 2, 3 & 4 and some have it the other way and some have neutrals appearing in between all numeric gears). Here you go; when your bike stops midway on road, you have an excuse (only if you manage to survive).
Add to this complexity, the people and other vehiclers (now, I coined that word…hehe) on road who have no sense of the traffic and seem to wander in their own world. It is as if you are destined to hit atleast one and it is just a matter of time. Here’s where the horn comes into play. As much as I hate someone blowing horn for seeking a way through, I love honking at others to let me through (this is one of the pleasures in a beginner’s learning experienceJ). And there are few people, who honk away to glory, getting carried away with the feeling that honking elevates them to the status of king, signaling their arrival on road.
Painful as though it may seem, I have found a liking to trot a bike in the lowest of gears in a heavy traffic. Now and then, I would want to challenge myself expecting not to ground my leg(s) for support and in the process (it is a nice trick to learn coz this is how one might have to travel in almost all places in our country) looking for gaps to squeeze through the LMVs and HMVs. It’s a pity that no one gets a degree for this new found knowledge.
Finally, after a couple of weeks or so of probation on road, I believe I have mastered the art of riding a bike without having hit any of my fellow road-mates (so far).
After all, the Wordsworth’s world is not far away from reach. :-)
On a trapped soul
This fine morning, I woke up with an odd feeling that I don’t need to go to work anymore. Then, I felt asking my-self ‘am I retired?’ and the answer was a firm ‘No’, for I have not been married yet (as if that’s a criteria for retirement) nor do I have any kids. I had to look at the mirror once to confirm that am old neither (it is amusing how your mind works when there is a sudden splash of curiosity). Not sure why the funny thought arose within me, but I was clearly no more interested to be heading off to work (for sure, I didn’t gulp liquor last night). I looked at my watch and it was just 6AM.
First thing I would want now is an ‘A one’ filter coffee, I thought. Then I realized I would have to walk a kilometer and a half if I have to taste one. With a huge sigh, I had to satisfy myself with a glass of cold water. I thought I had to get an answer for the question (or was that an intuition, ‘I don’t know’), hence I sat on the bed starting to recollect the funny thought that hit me during this early an hour.
An array of queries (like ‘are you bored at work?’, ‘missing home? ‘, ‘did a girl just say no to your proposal?’) dove deep inward and all were denied by the internal self. With the stirring noise of the fan at the backdrop, my thoughts wandered across various possibilities of my sudden resentment to work. Having tried to resolve this sudden wave of doubt in vain, I then unhappily got ready to attend office. My hopes of finding a good reason for ditching work were dithered.
On the way to the office, in the bus, with all unknown faces either dozing off by the rhythmic motion of the bus or hooked to their mini audio devices, my mind wondered if anyone else was as confused as I am. Having arrived at no conclusion yet, I pulled out my FM device (aah, that’s my mobile) in an attempt to evade from those gripping thoughts. The Rjockey played ‘jhoom barabar jhoom’ for which I was feeling my hips moving but minding the other guy next to me, I had to control my desire to shake my legs for the dance number. It was followed by ‘bring it on, bring it on’ and my legs were tapping involuntarily. ‘heyy babyy’, ‘crazy kiya re’…..and suddenly all these seemed to be left behind in to the obilivion and I saw myself sitting at my desk staring at the computer with a word document (to be precise, an artifact that explains the architecture of an application, as if I give a damn) in front of me and getting orders from my senior (for some reasons, I could not hear what he muttered) on what to do next. The next moment I am looking at myself reading a book, curious to know what am reading, I peeped into the book and it was blank; had nothing written on it. But I was reading with such deep intensity and I was taken aback. I felt a pinch over my shoulder and I was pulled backwards by some force and felt like floating now. There again, from above, I could see myself writing or drawing something. With the same curiosity as before, I peeped into the chart and found nothing. To my horror, my hand was at work on something invisible and though my grip suggested I was holding some instrument, I could see nothing between my fingers.
Before I could let out a shriek on what I was seeing, the force, that initially pulled me up, had me hung upside down and now with fright written all over my face, I was looking at me in a mirror. The reflection was pretending to hold something in its hand and mimicking as if it was playing a violin. But for reasons unknown, the face in the reflection was pale devoid of any colour. I realized the music from that instrument reached nowhere. Then the mirror impersonated itself to a jail and there was a figure trying to free itself from within. On shrinking my eyes to focus, I left a huge gasp having found it was me who’s behind the bars. But there was an odd difference to the figure, it was bright and beautiful (I am a normal person tanned naturally by the friendly climate in my country). I thought it (me, the figure behind the bar) had eyes that had the power to observe things and I was surprised to see a pen in his (my) hand. Beside him there was a book that had letters and meaning in it and a violin that was missing the previous avatar of mine (the reflection in the mirror).
Creeeeeeeeechhhhhhhh…I felt a hard pain surge through my forehead. I opened my eyes and wondered what I was doing in this bus. Just seconds ago, I hung (upside down) looking at my own reflection playing an instrument producing no music. Then it clicked me that it was all a dream and the truth was that I had to head to my cubicle to continue on my pending work. I had dozed off in the bus. Switching my FM device off, I walked past the security gate through to my cabin, to the place which made me aloof from the real world outside.
However, I did not have any doubt whatsoever on the intriguing thoughts that stuck me in the morning. I know that somehow I had the answers for my mind’s unexplainable action early this day. With a smile on my face, I started scripting this blog of mine which I was hoping to since ages.
Atleast, I have tried to satisfy one dream of my inner self and I know, the next time I dream, I wouldn’t see myself sketching anything invisible .
Note: This blog is dedicated to all those creative souls trapped within and eager to take on their rightful place in one’s self.
- Penned by
A trapped soul eagerly awaiting its release
First thing I would want now is an ‘A one’ filter coffee, I thought. Then I realized I would have to walk a kilometer and a half if I have to taste one. With a huge sigh, I had to satisfy myself with a glass of cold water. I thought I had to get an answer for the question (or was that an intuition, ‘I don’t know’), hence I sat on the bed starting to recollect the funny thought that hit me during this early an hour.
An array of queries (like ‘are you bored at work?’, ‘missing home? ‘, ‘did a girl just say no to your proposal?’) dove deep inward and all were denied by the internal self. With the stirring noise of the fan at the backdrop, my thoughts wandered across various possibilities of my sudden resentment to work. Having tried to resolve this sudden wave of doubt in vain, I then unhappily got ready to attend office. My hopes of finding a good reason for ditching work were dithered.
On the way to the office, in the bus, with all unknown faces either dozing off by the rhythmic motion of the bus or hooked to their mini audio devices, my mind wondered if anyone else was as confused as I am. Having arrived at no conclusion yet, I pulled out my FM device (aah, that’s my mobile) in an attempt to evade from those gripping thoughts. The Rjockey played ‘jhoom barabar jhoom’ for which I was feeling my hips moving but minding the other guy next to me, I had to control my desire to shake my legs for the dance number. It was followed by ‘bring it on, bring it on’ and my legs were tapping involuntarily. ‘heyy babyy’, ‘crazy kiya re’…..and suddenly all these seemed to be left behind in to the obilivion and I saw myself sitting at my desk staring at the computer with a word document (to be precise, an artifact that explains the architecture of an application, as if I give a damn) in front of me and getting orders from my senior (for some reasons, I could not hear what he muttered) on what to do next. The next moment I am looking at myself reading a book, curious to know what am reading, I peeped into the book and it was blank; had nothing written on it. But I was reading with such deep intensity and I was taken aback. I felt a pinch over my shoulder and I was pulled backwards by some force and felt like floating now. There again, from above, I could see myself writing or drawing something. With the same curiosity as before, I peeped into the chart and found nothing. To my horror, my hand was at work on something invisible and though my grip suggested I was holding some instrument, I could see nothing between my fingers.
Before I could let out a shriek on what I was seeing, the force, that initially pulled me up, had me hung upside down and now with fright written all over my face, I was looking at me in a mirror. The reflection was pretending to hold something in its hand and mimicking as if it was playing a violin. But for reasons unknown, the face in the reflection was pale devoid of any colour. I realized the music from that instrument reached nowhere. Then the mirror impersonated itself to a jail and there was a figure trying to free itself from within. On shrinking my eyes to focus, I left a huge gasp having found it was me who’s behind the bars. But there was an odd difference to the figure, it was bright and beautiful (I am a normal person tanned naturally by the friendly climate in my country). I thought it (me, the figure behind the bar) had eyes that had the power to observe things and I was surprised to see a pen in his (my) hand. Beside him there was a book that had letters and meaning in it and a violin that was missing the previous avatar of mine (the reflection in the mirror).
Creeeeeeeeechhhhhhhh…I felt a hard pain surge through my forehead. I opened my eyes and wondered what I was doing in this bus. Just seconds ago, I hung (upside down) looking at my own reflection playing an instrument producing no music. Then it clicked me that it was all a dream and the truth was that I had to head to my cubicle to continue on my pending work. I had dozed off in the bus. Switching my FM device off, I walked past the security gate through to my cabin, to the place which made me aloof from the real world outside.
However, I did not have any doubt whatsoever on the intriguing thoughts that stuck me in the morning. I know that somehow I had the answers for my mind’s unexplainable action early this day. With a smile on my face, I started scripting this blog of mine which I was hoping to since ages.
Atleast, I have tried to satisfy one dream of my inner self and I know, the next time I dream, I wouldn’t see myself sketching anything invisible .
Note: This blog is dedicated to all those creative souls trapped within and eager to take on their rightful place in one’s self.
- Penned by
A trapped soul eagerly awaiting its release
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