4:50 AM
Nevin
The number of times I have stared at the airplanes flying over our tiny house is incredible. I look at them emerge out of the green eastern horizon (which has been quite mist-laden after you left the town) like a super fast sun and crash on the other side. In those moments I am filled with a feeling of hope. You do remember our sun right? Yes, yes the pun very much intended. The same sun which had invaded our little private moments on the terrace, like the security uncle downstairs, acted as if he had seen nothing. Well that sun has disappeared. Instead, there is grayness. Widespread and omnipresent. It is slowly devouring our small town.
Sometimes I am woken up by a dream. I hear screams and prayers. Is it a calling...
The tree folk seem to have stopped fighting. The other day I could hear loud whispers. The gray sky, or 'it who must not be named' had grown darker. His sidekicks were sending out waves after waves of cold winds. "The dark times are here," the trees had whispered. They have begun to fall apart. Some were badly uprooted. Some lost their limbs in protest. They seem to have given up. The leaves fall, as I speak...
In the dream, I hear a voice. It guides me through streets that I have never been to. Through valleys and mountains that I thought never existed. But I do not understand what I seek. Is it a vision of a journey I should undertake?
Gone are the sunny days of our town. There is no more joy. Instead it is filled with a sense of numbness; of the color gray. The 'inseparable mynas' of the North have parted ways. One can't see them together these days. The squirrels which used to roam on the land are hiding in the trees. The eagles of upper-world have taken to land. The monkeys have also begun to show the traits of its evolved kind. Pigeons, contrary to the times when they chewed olive branches, have pledged their alliance the Gray-lord and turned gray.
I must embark on this journey. These visions, these unconventional happenings, are all signs. I think Mr. Coelho is right. The story of Alchemist is true. I realize my moment has come. Dear Sheila, the time has come for me to get you. You, the light of our town, we need you back. Forces that bind me to the town are presently weak and I should make the move before another sunless day arrives. I shall cross barriers, both imaginary and geographical, I shall get to thee. "The time is ripe," as Upagupta once said. Vegetables I might have to eat, cough syrups I might have to drink but I will find a way to you my love.
I could see you. The fragrance, that you have left behind with me in the town, keeps our memories afresh. Each time I rub the face on the towel I feel you. I feel us. Our little moments. I feel you with me when I walk through the corridors. I see a vague image looking at me from behind the pillar. I need you back. Gotham needs its hero back. So today I sign off with love. Wait for me, pray for me. Have faith in me. I shall come to get you...
Sometimes I am woken up by a dream. I hear screams and prayers. Is it a calling...
The tree folk seem to have stopped fighting. The other day I could hear loud whispers. The gray sky, or 'it who must not be named' had grown darker. His sidekicks were sending out waves after waves of cold winds. "The dark times are here," the trees had whispered. They have begun to fall apart. Some were badly uprooted. Some lost their limbs in protest. They seem to have given up. The leaves fall, as I speak...
In the dream, I hear a voice. It guides me through streets that I have never been to. Through valleys and mountains that I thought never existed. But I do not understand what I seek. Is it a vision of a journey I should undertake?
Gone are the sunny days of our town. There is no more joy. Instead it is filled with a sense of numbness; of the color gray. The 'inseparable mynas' of the North have parted ways. One can't see them together these days. The squirrels which used to roam on the land are hiding in the trees. The eagles of upper-world have taken to land. The monkeys have also begun to show the traits of its evolved kind. Pigeons, contrary to the times when they chewed olive branches, have pledged their alliance the Gray-lord and turned gray.
I must embark on this journey. These visions, these unconventional happenings, are all signs. I think Mr. Coelho is right. The story of Alchemist is true. I realize my moment has come. Dear Sheila, the time has come for me to get you. You, the light of our town, we need you back. Forces that bind me to the town are presently weak and I should make the move before another sunless day arrives. I shall cross barriers, both imaginary and geographical, I shall get to thee. "The time is ripe," as Upagupta once said. Vegetables I might have to eat, cough syrups I might have to drink but I will find a way to you my love.
I could see you. The fragrance, that you have left behind with me in the town, keeps our memories afresh. Each time I rub the face on the towel I feel you. I feel us. Our little moments. I feel you with me when I walk through the corridors. I see a vague image looking at me from behind the pillar. I need you back. Gotham needs its hero back. So today I sign off with love. Wait for me, pray for me. Have faith in me. I shall come to get you...
PS: I have finally managed to get enough money to book a flight ticket honey. The boss gave me off for a month so I am coming. YAY.
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Check out this brilliant video from British Airways that will make you fall in love once again : Go further to get closer.
