la alba ..

It was 4.00 AM. My eyes were open. I was staring at the fan above my head. Although i wasnt able to figure out what they were, i was sure that the blades were taking something away from me. Something painfully beautiful. Something which i loved. As i wondered what they were, a single drop of tear escaped from my eye, running from my left eye to my left ear, saying or rather singing something. Something painfully beautiful, like the song of dying phoenix we keep on talking about, like a fire in the jungle, like a free kite in the sky. Something which was painful yet beautiful. Lost in thoughts i wondered what was this all about? Why these odd thoughts? What was the reason of the single drop of water, running from the left eye to the left ear, saying something? I tried to listen to the tears again, to my wonder they spoke again, they sang again, but i still wasnt able to interpret their signs, their language, their synchronization. It was perfect, was again painful yet beautiful. I tried hard to talk to them. I tried asking them who was mastering this synchronization, who was it? In reply, they sang in unison, they sang in painfully beautiful unison. I looked around for help, may be somebody could help me. The darkness stared back at me in reply. Then the singing stopped, the sound of music was gone. All i could hear now was the sound of blades taking away something, something painfully beautiful, something i loved.

Irritated by that something, i gave up. Closed my eyes again. Tried to block all those thoughts. Tried to empty the empty vessel full of air. Unable to do so, i started my day by emptying the bed. Put on my white serene t-shirt and opened the door. Painted in yellow and blue with a red knob, the door reminded me of the school uniform. Yellow signifying the shirt, Blue signifying the pant and the Red knob signifying the belt that was used to bond these two, small beautiful handsome things tightly. I shrugged the thought away and stepped into the dead deafening silence of the empty corridor. The corridor, so alive, so noisy, so lively during the day and the corridor, so dead, so silent, so peaceful at this hour of the day. Even the corridor had two dresses. One noisy, alive and lively dress which it uses during the day and One dead, silent, peaceful which is used at this hour of the day at which words are spoken and sung by the single drop of tear that escapes from people's eyes running from their left eye to their left ear. Pulling in the strings towards me, i tried to undress it, the corridor, wanting to see what was it, what was inside. All the corridor offered was its dead impenetrable silent darkness. May be there was never a dress for the corridor, may be it changed bodies like our hindu dead people do. Or may be it was again, two small beautiful handsome things held tightly by the red knob. The Yellow morning and the Blue night, held tightly by that tiny red knob, the Sun.

Painfully Smiling at the corridor, i made my way to the washroom. Performing the daily morning rituals, i still was thinking what was it. What was that something painfully beautiful? And so many thoughts, why? Wondering all this i came back to my room. Picked up my cell, found 2 new messages. Both from a friend of mine, one message saying Thanks, and the other one saying Gud nite. Now this brought me back to my previous stupid being. Could that person be so stupid, that she was saying a Thanks in one message, and Gud nite in another after 40 seconds. Or was it the aftermath. My conscious was racing, mind subtle, i was flying again, in the air, talking to the goddess of beauty, with searching eyes. Would it be so bad? I mean why was this going to be bad at all? She just kept on looking with those searching eyes somewhere. Searching for something. I realized, when they rested at me, the eyes, they surely found some serenity, but there still was this certain fear, this certain unknown fear, this certain unknown painfully beautiful fear. Looking deep into those searching, feared, painfully beautiful eyes, i raised the question again. Why not? She just smiled through her painfully beautiful eyes, being practical, she called this, being practical. She didnt say anything, she just kept looking at me, as if she was speaking with those painfully beautiful eyes, as if she was singing with those painfully beautiful eyes. It, the ambience, was painfully beautiful again. All of a sudden, i was falling, the goddess of beauty just kept looking at me, those painfully beautiful eyes getting more searching than beautiful, the colors in those beautiful eyes draining, a single drop of tear escaping from her left eye to left ear, saying or rather singing something. Something painfully beautiful. Something she loved.

It was then that i realised, it was her beautiful eyes, the blades were taking away. It was then that i realised, it was beauty, that the blades were taking away. It was memories, that the blades were taking away. It was the happy times, that the blades were taking away. All so painful, yet so beautiful. All so painfully beautiful. All something i loved.