Monday, January 26, 2009

The One of Turquoise Eyes (2)

Far away in the distance, where the mountain took a dip in the blues, he sits staring at the cave. His eyes burned ember. He hasn’t slept for a while. Nights don’t remember if they have seen him sleeping. What is he doing there?
From inside the cave, he could hear the voices patting the corridors of his mind. His head is heavy with the lightness of these sounds. How many? He looks endlessly, his infinite gaze fixed on the cave. Perhaps he is waiting patiently for someone, that’s what this night sang. This night, tonight, dark, dim and lazy, like every night, a messenger of the day, a careless, casual messenger of the day.
There’s a cloud floating by. It stops as its drowsy eyes catch a glimpse of him. Who sent this cloud? A grey cloud, whose grey is prominent against the blue of the heavens. There have been no clouds since, no one knows since when. There have been no tears either. But this cloud saw him and stopped, and for a while everything stopped, everything. His eyes were still active though in their never ending, relentless gaze. They realized that there were no voices anymore and yet they didn’t bat the eyelids. They continued like before, persistent as always and still active in those moments of eternal inactivity. How much was eternal? For how long did the cloud stopped?
Inside of the cave burned bright, as if that yellow moon had taken refuge there. His eyes had noticed this change, for they now reflected the yellow. And as yellow started filling the spaces of his eyes, out came the ember that has been gracing them all this while. Ember flowed out of yellow eyes and the cave burned yellow without those voices that existed till that moment when everything stood still.
The cloud was no where to be seen, it had disappeared. Nights continued with their boring routine, passing without any cause or concern. They bothered for neither his eyes emptied of ember nor for the bright yellow that now occupied the same. But his eyes remained intent on gazing through the cave. They didn’t knew the reasons, they weren’t aware of the purposes, his purposes that is. Someone had asked, some time, “What’s your purpose”? “Seeing”.

How much?
How long?

He got up and walked, away from the cave; Eyes closed, Yellow enslaved, Ember abandoned.

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