I saw a full moon tonight, shining with all the might and pride, looking down upon my state. In all my virtue, with all the reverence, here I am , seeking reasonings for all that I am, for all that I want.
I must sing, I say myself, I shall sing. But the voice wont come, the truthfulness within me has died. I search for it, ah yes, met it yesterday and meet it occasionally time and again. We pretend to oversee things the way they are, we pretend everything is still fine. I try to remind myself of all the beautiful songs I had sung, the lyrics I had woven for you, the melody created by us… this non-hearing seems a long phenomenon, is it something I knew would be coming…had I been waiting for this? Waiting for the time I go deaf, and senseless and immune to all the attacks ?
The songs have lost their charm, is there another piper?
But I cannot hear any flutes…? No one is playing them? Or some one is?
The dove is killed, the canals have dried, the canals have dried…and the rivers wait for the rains , wait for the force to direct them to the sea…How does it gratify a river to lose herself in a sea…to lose all she has ever had..?I ponder!
Days go by and night passes too. The remnants remain. Like the pebbles – broken and crushed on the river beds. What does the river do? Wait for the rain to wash it away?
The trepidations remain. Solitude creeps into the creaked doors like a ray of light. Only the difference is that the door leads to darkness, so engulfing.
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