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Saturday, April 30, 2016

Intensity Tumbling Down

From higher up there,yes,things certainly are different.The extent of Ada's vision was now rolling over amidst waves,roaring in simultaneous outbursts.Where,indeed did extent reach,at last?The pathway must have been beyond strolls we are capable of unfurling ourselves in.Where did the highways go now? The city tried to cover her little body in the enthrallment of depth as the breeze swayed and huffed.Uh,if only she could fly.If only she could swim.If only she knew the resonance in the rhythmic touch that her skin responded to,every now and then,when they tore off pages to prove that the spree of events only favoured and didn't even feel like not coming back to shore.The buildings whispered to each other in a language of old walls and broken windows the tale of being,wavering the soul of their heavy masses as they secretly were delighted of their holding on to the roads.
And the clouds tremblingly balked over their own shadows,unwilling to accept that there had always been a wire inbetween. And they couldn't term it a war,they couldn't call it a conflict.So,they surmised their existence and kept walking.In between and further. 

Each footprint now was a pattern.Each piece of glass the core of a symmetry that was perfectly asymmetrical. It would have happened,sooner or later.Happen was what existed,it rounded up to something called "is" and all that there is is what really counts.What if she just rushed down in her short dress now,without caring to see where was the fabric flowing and where it wasn't,which weren't sole antonyms,at all and call out each of the doppelgangers in her reflection and touch them thrice every second as if saying,"I know you were there,since before,since time was born.I know...I know."

The cabs went on,passing off their noise to an invisible silence who was modestly standing there in order to accept the will.Just stand there and accept whatever verdict the judge gave.
What would happen if the dress flew off in the wind,right now? What would they see except for skin and muscles and bones and carbohydrates and protein? They could rather go and touch fleshy leaves of a tree,or mineraled stones,or jewels or the sand and there they difference at all.
Bejewelled wounds bled as the necklaces lit up in ecstasy.The flash rummaged through the dark walls and amicable tendencies.What stood there,right there,was an oyster that flickered its shell every now and then and filled the arena with unabridged anecdotes of calls and denials.
The walk changed direction towards the district library as the fabrics on the mannequins tumbled down to defy clinging in conglomerates of consumeristic pleasure,to flee the greed in their eyes in a gush of rebellion.
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