Friday, July 14, 2006

If I turn blind tonight


Poring over a yellow carton, you entered into my stream of consciousness like a ray. Your eyes were fixed upon your fingers trying to open that carton. But somehow I felt that you had included me in the array of your sight. As if to confirm my view, a smile played on your lips like a flute. It seemed to play a song, the words of which could have been: Hey, do not hide there, for I know you are here...

We never met, we never spoke, but we acted as confession boxes for each other. I could share those really lunatic thoughts with you. So could you and I nearly transformed into a father, a friendly one, while seeking answers to questions you almost asked.

I discovered very early, within you, the same wheel of restlesness which I had driven with the wooden stick of my being when I was of your age and younger. Half hidden behind the red, yellow and blue fibres of Dharamshala blankets, you asked me riddles the answers to which I sought in your eyes and ultimately found them in your smile. How I wish we could lay together, our heads supported by our elbows and, while you shared the secrets of your friends with me, I would remove your yellow hair band and play with it!

We could also wear those masks - I choose the red one with demon's face - and dance stupidly in the wilderness, pretending to frighten each other. We could also talk endlessly with that old Tibetan woman. I could also tell you that the paper machie boxes made in Kashmir are the best.

I am a dreamer, excuse me, and I dream about the most stupid and flimsy and childish dreams ever known to mankind. Consider this - You have put my picture up on your blog and then your statement has changed to this: All photographs published on this website and the man featuring in the topmost photograph are the property of PPK.

And yes, PPK, if I were to turn blind tonight, you would remain dear to me.

(Pic by PPK, taken at Dharamshala)

2 comments:

m said...

oh man, can you write

PPK said...

Thanks a lot R... Needless to say that you have made me feel like a princess!
Dreamers, we all are.
Lying on stone-cold tiled floors, listening to music in the darkness.
Dreamers, we all are.
Jolted back to reality when our silent tears trickle to the floor.
Dreamers, we all are.
Tiny little islands, floating in an ocean of muse...