It was morning when he woke up. Lazy eyes, swollen and red due to lack of sleep and tired of holding eternity, caught the first glimpse of the rainbow bridge. The wind was soft and soothing, bit cold but that was due to the night which never left before leaving its mark on the morn of the following day(s). There was light mist around and the bridge hung in the thin veil of the fog. He could see the peak, way beyond the green valley on the other side of the bridge. The rainbow bridge would soon be without its colors, all draining one after another as Sun would raise high up in the azure. The skies were already reddish orange, and the Sun, a baby pink reminiscent of glories, whose presence had become so commonplace now.
‘Now’. What was now? Not the bridge, not its colors; not even its name. It faded slowly, from the view, from the landscape, from his eyes. The day was clear and sun no longer pink. The bridge was away from its colors and what remained of it was what always existed, carefully placed stones, tied and hung in that space by who knew whom. Chiseled stones welcomed his slow and unsure steps. “Are you comfortable”, they asked. He should have replied but he didn’t. No one knew the significance of these steps of his, not the stones, not the bridge or the peak. The sun and the faded colors didn’t knew it either.
He continued his slow walk, seldom looking around or paying attention to the talks of the stones who continued with their questions; “Are you comfortable”, “What took it so long for you to come”, “Are you heading to the valley and the peak beyond”.
The sun was now on the other side of the bridge, watching him as patiently as ever. He had passed the middle of the bridge when he noticed that nothing existed beneath the bridge. This was a bridge over nothingness; dark, ever growing and encompassing nothingness. A nothingness way beyond the Sun and its golden hue, nothingness where even night was afraid to go. Where did then the Night slept?
Was it this vast nothingness in which melted the colors of the rainbow bridge?
As his turquoise eyes met the nothingness from far above the bridge, the air became melancholic. The stone voices grew thin and then finally died down on their own, assimilating perhaps in the nothing. Sun once again shifted it stance and now hung close to his head, right above him.
His turquoise eyes saw his shadows cast over the surface of the nothingness, some even piercing deep inside it. His eyes had seen a lot and held even more. All that; the cave, those yellows, that ember and all else was a part of him, his eyes and this nothingness.
He lifted his eyes, away from his shadows, away from the nothingness beneath him. Over his shoulder hung the sun, who was to die soon one more of his eternal silent deaths. Far away in the distance was the peak and in between lay the valley. All of them were silent, listening to the melancholy which was his, looking at his somber turquoise eyes and his face on which had arrived the shades of rainbow,
An Indigo sad in the company of a Violet
A Yellow and A Red, part of his nothingness, adopted and parted with
An Orange of the dying evening Sun
A Green of that jungle, that lied buried in the Blue
A Blue that was eternal.
His turquoise eyes looked around, casting themselves on the Sun, the valley and the peak beyond, the bridge; his eyes looked at them all. And then they looked down again at the nothingness smeared with his shadows.
From above the rainbow bridge, he opened his arms and jumped to the embrace of nothingness.
‘Now’. What was now? Not the bridge, not its colors; not even its name. It faded slowly, from the view, from the landscape, from his eyes. The day was clear and sun no longer pink. The bridge was away from its colors and what remained of it was what always existed, carefully placed stones, tied and hung in that space by who knew whom. Chiseled stones welcomed his slow and unsure steps. “Are you comfortable”, they asked. He should have replied but he didn’t. No one knew the significance of these steps of his, not the stones, not the bridge or the peak. The sun and the faded colors didn’t knew it either.
He continued his slow walk, seldom looking around or paying attention to the talks of the stones who continued with their questions; “Are you comfortable”, “What took it so long for you to come”, “Are you heading to the valley and the peak beyond”.
The sun was now on the other side of the bridge, watching him as patiently as ever. He had passed the middle of the bridge when he noticed that nothing existed beneath the bridge. This was a bridge over nothingness; dark, ever growing and encompassing nothingness. A nothingness way beyond the Sun and its golden hue, nothingness where even night was afraid to go. Where did then the Night slept?
Was it this vast nothingness in which melted the colors of the rainbow bridge?
As his turquoise eyes met the nothingness from far above the bridge, the air became melancholic. The stone voices grew thin and then finally died down on their own, assimilating perhaps in the nothing. Sun once again shifted it stance and now hung close to his head, right above him.
His turquoise eyes saw his shadows cast over the surface of the nothingness, some even piercing deep inside it. His eyes had seen a lot and held even more. All that; the cave, those yellows, that ember and all else was a part of him, his eyes and this nothingness.
He lifted his eyes, away from his shadows, away from the nothingness beneath him. Over his shoulder hung the sun, who was to die soon one more of his eternal silent deaths. Far away in the distance was the peak and in between lay the valley. All of them were silent, listening to the melancholy which was his, looking at his somber turquoise eyes and his face on which had arrived the shades of rainbow,
An Indigo sad in the company of a Violet
A Yellow and A Red, part of his nothingness, adopted and parted with
An Orange of the dying evening Sun
A Green of that jungle, that lied buried in the Blue
A Blue that was eternal.
His turquoise eyes looked around, casting themselves on the Sun, the valley and the peak beyond, the bridge; his eyes looked at them all. And then they looked down again at the nothingness smeared with his shadows.
From above the rainbow bridge, he opened his arms and jumped to the embrace of nothingness.
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