Eyes

That Flower, Dark Coloured

Bloomed in darkness.
[Image by Michael Gaida from Pixabay]

The dark old lady walks like lightening devouring the night sky, she is swift, she is fast. Her dusty feet, darker than the broken black slippers, know exactly where it is to lead and where it is to stop. Draped in a saree lungi style, her slender figure boasts of agility and strength.  

Amma, it is a cold tonight, and she covers her head, her ears with a towel. Does she look funny? Not at all, she looks as beautiful as that flower kept in that book. That flower, dark coloured, tells a story, pressed and noted neatly in that book, stored for a chance meeting. 

*

Waiting for a chance meeting.
[Image by Petra Šolajová from Pixabay]

Amma what time is it, nine thirty she says and at ten she has to go to a flat and clean the dishes, clear the kitchen counter, set the culinary world in order; often Amma plays music and her dear plates, cups and spoons dance on her tune. Amma beams then like she is beaming now – Amma’s toothless smile.  

On her way back home, at night, embracing the darkness Amma moves briskly, but stops in front of a small house and asks Sunita bahin if she can get a water-can and take some fresh water; yes, at Amma’s place you won’t see a water-tap rather there are colourful canisters lined up – yellow, blue, faded red and dirty white.

*

Risen in style.
[Image by dendoktoor from Pixabay]

Amma is stylish, her dark self knows what colours to wear – white and orange and green, mixture of all these and add some flowery designs, this completes her look. Do you also wear the colours of the road, the trees, the dark sky Amma? For you look as quiet and great as them.

And your eyes, that glance, killer! Amma your eyes are sharp, your eyes smile – your eyes are familiar with Time and that’s why you don’t mind, you don’t curse it, you don’t cherish it; you know how to live it. Whatever it may be, a raging tempest or a happy carnival or a visit to the temple, you get up the next day and leave for work on time.  

I wonder if you have not spoken with everyone until now. Because you are alive, you know Time, you know the society, you know poverty and you smile with your eyes.  

Amma cheers to your journey. The dark old lady waved a goodbye.

*


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Trance

Eyes could see that the mind was dreaming, yet it stayed attuned. The soft, glowing place might be the reason. And colours, crayon colours, water colours flowing smoothly. Glory ruled the place.

Such were the wonderfully true sights that my eyes beamed with pleasure. I then was beyond time and space, happy in the present.

Breathing deeply, quietly, I knew it all and I knew nothing. Bliss!

*

I woke up and with a quick, strong rush, lively sounds reached me all at once. It was time to live another true dream… it was time to be.

Ah life!

The Unfinished Book

The unfinished book, a chapter in a story.
Image – Pixabay.

Biting her nails, Ruby thought about the unfinished book. Drops on the windowpane and the cold coffee agreed that it was late. The passing crowd in the cafe didn’t bother her, she was rather pleased. Ruby forgot about time.  

Sigh! Ruby looked outside the window and saw nothing, neither the woman with the red umbrella nor her brown guide dog. She was lost; god knows where her train of thought took her by then. Playing with her scarf, she picked her coffee and took a sip. Ugh! It was bad.  

Time and space hit Ruby once again, she checked her watch and decided to leave, just then her eyes fell on the woman with a red umbrella; she recognised her and her brown guide dog. Ruby’s eyes revealed something.  

As she watched that woman and her dog crossing the road, a part of her got up and left. Heavy eyed, Ruby saw herself through the window; she quickly crossed the road and stopped the woman. They talked animatedly for a while.

Ruby in the cafe looked longingly at the scene. The other Ruby started walking along with the woman and her guide dog. Shaking her head in disbelief, but still smiling, the Ruby in the cafe got up, paid the bill and went outside.  

There she waited for a few minutes and then walked in the direction where that woman and a part of herself went.

Another cup of coffee is ready, finish the unfinished book.
Image – Pixabay.

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