Secrets To Be Discovered

Secrets To Be Discovered
A giant-wheel in the background of the picture on my desktop boosted its values. It reminded me of the day I a similar picture on her desktop. It was an image-file she had downloaded from an email. The image was going to mean a lot more to me than the entity it represented.

I looked closely at her picture for about the hundredth time. I might  be able to glean something about her nature and character from it. She was someone who was to handle the oars of my life for a long time, I wish I knew something more about her. we had met just once. This was when I saw the image on her desktop. There was a similar picture on my desktop today, and I had her image in my mind too.

Pictures never reveal an entire story, I know. There is always a lot of pathos and bathos buried deep beneath all the colours that bring life to it. I began to wonder if I really wanted to be a part of all that went into making the caricature come to life. I may not like all its different colours, but some of them were certainly going to collate with me. Different colours of life had been used to paint an entirely different portrait of life in our minds. There was certainly an element of commonality in the different images we held in our minds because the same brush had been dipped in all different colours again and again to produce the final contrast.

It was a beautiful final picture painted in our minds. All kinds of different shades had been used to produce the final effect. I myself had a lot of these emotions churning up quite a potent potion within me for quite a long time. I don’t know if I could do with some more of it. I have already had had enough of it, but there is always some more of it to be put up with. All contentions reach a zenith within me while some more dark shades are employed to produce a bright colour. It is certainly going to be a long time before the appropriate combination of colours required to produce the final beauty can be arrived at. Till then, there are going to be occasional splashes of different shades of colours, and I shall have to find a way of putting up with them in their original form.

I am not in a position to change the shades however much I want to. I shall have to adjust myself to suit the merits of their combination. I shall have to change my likes and dislikes. They will have to be tuned with the different shades of colours I find splashed on me from time to time. I wish there was a way possible to change at least some of the different shades of colours that find themselves on me at different intervals. It is quite exasperating, but I can do very little about it.

Practically, I can never do anything about the patches already on me. My past can never  be changed. Different shades of  colours that are being spilt on me now whether I like them or not and those that will find themselves on me in my future shall also not be volitional. I find myself at a dead-end where I want to walk out of this prism of colours I find myself trapped in.

There is another prism of colours life puts me through everyday. The variety has its own typical effect on me. I see so many colours around me everyday that I almost forget the dark alleys I have been walking through for a long time. The truth is I  want to forget all about the world around me when  I am with her. it is a bad-bad world around me, I know, and the only good about it is her being in it. Somehow I know there is a similar contention about life within her when she is with me.

She is going to change every bit of it, I feel sure. The change is going to be quite subtle and minute, and yet it is going to change my world to a format I always wanted it to be. I know all this is and my realisation is   strengthened when our eyes meet. We see a world with limitless possibilities in each other’s eyes. This is quite unlike the world around us where a whole lot of limitations are put on me by virtue of me being incomplete.

I often feel bad about it, but then I look into her eyes for a hint of my future for some relief. What I see in her eyes always rejuvenates me. This is  a secret to be discovered in her eyes, and I dig around in her eyes with all vigour and fervour possible. I feel sure she does her best to dig out all secrets buried in my eyes too.

I don’t know if I should reveal the results of my explorations to her. Here is a secret I should guard even from her, I know. I should keep them behind some impermeable barriers that can’t be penetrated even by her sharp and beautiful eyes. They are skilled enough to dig out the best kept secrets, but I shall do my very best to conceal them from her. Afterall, she doesn’t seem to be in a position to appreciate all that she finds in me. I wish there was a way to know what she discovers in me. I want to know what opinion she holds of me, but she is someone who keeps her eyes tightly closed throughout the day because even a solitary beam of light is sure to rob her of all her secrets.

On the other hand, I have been willing to share my secrets with her like a parched man pines for a glass of water. Sharing my secrets with her is going to bring in satisfaction greater than what the thirsty man is going to experience when he drinks the water. There are certainly a lot of secrets within me that are simply dying to come to the fore, but all of them shall remain behind barricaded walls and locked doors till she steps in to unravel them.

A Bird Flies Away

A Bird Flies Away
My phone began to ring loudly. There were quite a few messages from her waiting   to be read too.  It was the same ring-tone, the one I knew so well. My phone was tuned to ring out a particular jingle when she called. I jumped up into the air when I realised she was calling me; I felt honoured and glorified at the same time. I wondered if she experiences a similar excitement when I ring her up.

A meaningless conversation was being carried on at that time between us at a metaphysical level. It was a wordless conversation, and yet it rung some sweet chords within both of us. We were looking into air and yet we were smiling. Each of us had the other one in one’s thoughts. I’ve often wondered what lovers talk of while they hold hands, and I felt I was on the verge of discovering some beautiful secrets. We were not holding hands, we were miles apart from each other, and yet the contact was as good as if we held hands.

Eventually, I felt our grips loosening; there was a dark shadow on us. Its darkness covered up all the wonderful powers love had aroused within us over several years. It loosened our grip. We found ourselves drifting apart, and all the pathos and bathos lent by the dark clouds above us added to the misery of being apart. We simply went different ways.

There were ravines of doubt and mistrust around us and they had come up between us, and our car was running at a steady pace between them. A deep and dark shadow was cast on our car as a bird flew by, we did our best to avoid falling prey to these dark tips of nature, but none of us was strong enough to tackle nature in its purest form. A small amount of doubt and mistrust had already found its way within both of us.

It happened in a jiffy before any of us could realise what was happening. Our entire presence was drowned by a dark shadow. I was a bit surprised by the alacrity by which it covered us, but it did happen. It was to shower its wrath over us in a short while, and both of us were sure to be drenched in absolute misery if we didn’t rush for cover.

Love certainly has the powers to make life live, but it can also make life miserable too. We realised this now. We experienced the presence of boulders around us like one experiences  the presence of skyscrapers while going around a modern city. Once the novelty of looking at high-rising-buildings wears itself away, what remains is only the strain of looking up at the top floor. There is always a temptation to look up and be at the top. Everyone of us makes efforts to get to this top. Eventually, we realise the top is a dream that keeps shifting away from us. We only have to strain ourselves a bit more to look at a fresh new top every day.

These buildings were bent on squeezing every bit of happiness from our lives into a void even as we did our best to pass through them without making our presence felt. Practically, we were miles away from each other, but at a different level, we were travelling in the same car through tall skyscrapers.

There were dark and formidable curtains over all windows of these buildings. I wondered what purpose they served for no one was tall enough to be able to peep through any of these windows. It dawned on me they shielded the rooms from harsh sunlight that falls on these buildings every day. I wondered if all of them were good enough to guard all inhabitants.

One size never fits all, I know, not everyone finds solace from the harsh sunlight even behind such blinds. Everyone is exposed to different amounts of sunlight; there is a different size of curtain for all of us, I know. This is why each window of every room in these skyscrapers has a different kind of curtain over it. Each curtain does its job well, and yet all inhabitants look at each other with jealousy floating in their eyes. Everyone believes the other one has  a stronger curtain than what covers his or her window.

As I peered out of the car’s windows, I found all those on the streets or footpaths had straw-hats over their heads. They had broad rims to shield their users from the sunlight. I began to wonder why the sun sends so much evil in its incarnation every day. A solitary beam stole into the car: its message was clear: you are going to be found out one day wherever you may hide yourself. I was trying to hide from miseries life inflicts while in the  car.

Even the car we were in had curtains over its windows, but they let in the beam of light. A sinister aura appeared within the car. We were able to see some of the tall buildings through the windows in a while. The sight did intimidate us for a while, but we soon got used to it. For a change in perspective, I tried to look out of the car’s dashboard. I might get a clue of our destination. We didn’t know where the car was taking us to, we  were simply being carried by the car through a jungle of skyscrapers with blinds drowning their windows.

Quite soon, all of it was accompanied by a loud roar of a waterfall around us. I began to wonder what the source of the noise was. Its sound was loud enough to drown all signs of life the city made. I was a bit scared I held her hand a bit more tightly. She dug her nails into my hands. It did hurt a bit, and I began to wonder if it was her love or her animosity. I wanted to be loved, but not in the manner she loved me. I wanted some more of the elixir called love, but I began to doubt her intentions.

As I held her hand in the car, I felt like a cage in search of a bird called love. It insisted on flying further away from me despite all my efforts to placate it. Seeds of mistrust had been sown between us a long time back, and they were now growing into plants and      trees.

This bird will eventually find its perch on a different tree, while I may have to be content with another bird in my  cage.