Wednesday, 29 November 2017

Water Bodies (Part 1)

It is that time of the day again- night. The security guard's whistling sessions are creeping me out more than I already am; the dogs are howling in chorus, allowing my heartbeat to synchronise with it; and finally, there is the ticking of the clock that is growing more and more prominent with each passing second.
I have come off to a place where no one can question me, no one can judge me and no one can dictate me. If being alone is what everyone else wants, so be it. And as I say this, I pull out all the elements from my body, one by one. My shadow is the first one to leave, and honestly, this action doesn't even surprise me. I then lay my mind and heart on the ground, and they begin quarrelling while walking hand in hand. Now, it is my soul's turn. It acts a bit reluctant at first, but it gives up as I apply more force. It stretches out of my body and wanders around the stars, not knowing what to do next. My conscience tries to talk some sense into me, but I shush it and let it dissolve in the atmosphere.
The street lights conk off, foreshadowing a series of events. A few bubbles appear and dance around me as if I am the supreme light, but in reality, I am just a target of their crystal ball like properties. I know they are teasers for my upcoming plight or rather additions to the current one.
I try and prick the first bubble- the texture of which feels gooey- with my index finger, but it pulls me into a different world; one with an ideal starry night at a seaside, bearing just the right amount of darkness and the right amount of sparkle. But then again I know, this scenery isn't as pristine as it looks. 
A quarter part of my body watches over the gentle sea that balanced both its soothing self and its rage admirably, while my soles attempt to prove their obstinacy by halting their movement. They start longing for an outrageous wish, of transforming the ever beautiful sand dunes into quicksand. And this desire, to my astonishment, crawls into my nerves like an epidemic. I witness it come alive as the perfect blend of oatmeal and gold vanishes and a swamp comes into existence.
The adamant marshland tries to swallow me up, but a sudden downpour lends me assistance in standing back up. It transports me to a distant place and it occurs to me that the conniving droplets were saving me for themselves. Luckily, I am able to locate a safe spot, just enough to protect me from the merciless raindrops. I wait for the shower to subside and so it does. I extend my hand out in the form of a cup to be sure of its departure and subsequently pull my limbs out of the shade and start walking towards nowhere. However, the coast remains clear only for a while as I meet the torrent of water halfway with no place to run or to hide. I decide that I am not up for a battle and flee from the scene, letting the raindrops smack me as they please. Maybe giving in will show cowardice on my part, but I do not feel like I am in a position to justify my actions, even to myself. And I do not need to either, with my conscience being gone.
I run and run only to be drenched by another water body again- my sweat. The muggy atmosphere causes it to stick to my skin. I pause for a moment to regain my breath, but all the sweat seems to drain me. My mouth feels dry. I do not feel thirsty in particular, yet...

To be continued...

Washing emotions away
(Picture credits: Sara Herranz)