The Glass Pane

She sat on a rock at the edge of the running stream, her legs in the water. She was thinking serious thoughts, making up her mind about life and other very serious things. A giant square glass pane materialized in front of her. Across the stream. She sat looking at it. It was entirely transparent and she could see the trees on the other side of the glass.

Yet she knew the glass was there, a huge square pane of freshly cut glass in the middle of nowhere. A window to nothing. It was strange in the midst of the woods but strange never bothered her. She was used to strange things that her mind made for her. Strange and beautiful things.

She stared fascinated as the moonlight and the running water made a very faint rainbow with the glass. The rainbow was the point at which reality and madness met. Her still functional logic told her the glass window was clearly madness, and the brook and the moonbeams were clearly real.

As she took in the almost rainbow, a faint thrill ran through her. It was exciting to be a part of something fantastic, that was also a little real. To be touched by the insane and know it. To feel it.

Pure insanity is such a waste. People don’t know they are mad, they just accept madness as sanity. But the rainbow phase, it made her want to sing a little. An involuntary smile was upon her lips and her eyes stopped blinking for fear the rainbow would disappear and turf her back into the dull monochrome world.

She transferred her gaze back to the glass pane after a while. Everything that is fixed becomes a little dull. Her eyes bored at the glass as she tried to reach her serious decision. It shattered without warning. Into many hundred pieces as if someone had thrown a rock at it. Not a bullet, a bullet would produce only a neat hole, her logic reminded her.

She stared at the glistening fragments of dying glass that lay on the grass. It was her, lying there, shattered into multicolor shards of glass and painted that way. As a bright jagged collage of pain. It was breathtaking. Her heart caught in the beauty of it all.

She reached into the pocket of her sweatshirt and pulled out a tiny red shellphone. She dialed a number and listened for him

"Hello"

"I think we should break up"

His voice did a double take "What? What? Why?"

"Because it will be beautiful"

There was dead silence at the other end for a long long time. She didn’t interrupt it. Then he spoke

"Okay" The phone went dead in her ear

She put the phone back inside her pocket and looked across the stream. The glass pane was intact again. She stared and stared at it but it wouldn’t shatter. Silently she started crying.

Lies lies lies

wielders of myth wands inside the mind
not magic mongers, they're the sleep deprived
prodding green sneaks into private lives
no convictions, just the will to thrive
nothing needs proven in sordid kind

schools of small pale colourless lies
pilot bloods of big brave guiltless lies
half-off, half-wit, habit, similies

watch those enigmatic eyes
batting barbecued cinematic lines
orgiastic thrusts and mournful cries
the ugly, the real, beautifully entwined
like fledgling jerks poised for flight

d.i.s.t.o.r.t
d.e.l.a.y
d.i.v.e.r.s.i.f.y

when the truth went out of style
where the hell was I

Exhale

I believe that the spiritual and instinctive in each of us is unleashed when we undergo something life altering. As someone said, anything that doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, I believe in karma, that the good or bad you do in one lifetime, accumulates and passes on in your genes to future generations.

Last week, I had a near death experience. Nothing dramatic happened, I wasn't in any danger, just, someone walked on my grave. No other way to say it. The feeling lasted for a good 10 minutes. In the beginning I was terrified. Of how painful death might be and of all the things I still had to do in life and how I might never get a chance to do them.

Then after the initial panic attack subsided, I started itemising my future plans and I realized there is not one single thing that I would put under "must do" with my life. There were lots of "good-to-haves", but on the whole the world would get along just fine without me. It was an incredibly liberating realization. I was never so sure of myself, never so sure I was ready for death.

Well obviously, the bad news is I lived. The good news is my life flashed before my eyes. Its not a feeling I have ever had before, and quite frankly, I enjoyed it. Frozen frames of happy remembrance and blurring sadnesses.

I am an original, positive and life affirming person. I believe in people, even when they fail to believe in me, I don't hate anyone, I don't lie or cheat, I give credit where its due, I go miles out of my way to be helpful and nice, I try to never hurt anyone innocent, I also get angry very quickly, I am monogamous by conviction, I have zero tolerance for emotional blackmail, injustice and foolishness, I have an ego the size of a small planet, I can sink to any level my opponent sinks just to win a battle...

But on the whole, I am a good person. I am as good as it gets. Oh yeah baby, I said it! I am on the side of the angels, although, as Alistair MacLean said, I don't see the angels being too thrilled about it. I have no use for false modesty or oblique self-congratulation. I have no time for needy. I know who I am and its as simple as that.

Often in my past, I have chosen logic over instinct, and just as often, I have regretted it. But now slowly I am beginning to trust my instincts more often, if not blindly, and more importantly, I have stopped questioning them. With time, I have also stopped with explanations to everyone. My life is really nobody else's business, and from now on, it stays that way.

Right now I believe my slate is clean. I believe I have paid dearly for the sins of my ancestors. I haven't enjoyed it, but I have no gripe with the world or its citizens for what they owe me nor do I feel persecuted or "why me" or whatever. After all, it had to be somebody. Why not me? However as of this day, I am free. Today I am a fully grown adult, a female of the species, and I love it. From now on, I start writing out my own karma for future generations, if ever any. I intend any legacy I leave for the future to be either happy or non-existant.

A day of reckoning

Today, I look back at my past till birth, and I wonder...

Who do I want to be?

The kite, soaring high
with a guiding tail of hangers-on
anchored to a playful hand
on the ground holding steel string


Or a rolling stone,
at intermittent strife with the ground,
facing destruction any second,
yet unfettered, hardly used


Not an easy choice, no...

For Macadamia The Nut – With Love and Thanks

I am not very good at compliments (Insults are more my specialty :), so bear with my rather naïve attempt to thank a comrade for all I owe her,

Macadamia is one of the few complete strangers I know who invests time to willingly read all my blogs (NO coercion whatsoever, I swear :) and leave her feedback.

She has encouraged me through many times when I barely believed in myself, and I cannot begin to tell her how much that means to me! I might probably have given up and stopped writing a long time ago if it weren’t for her and a few others, whose opinions I trust with my eyes closed,

I think of Macadamia in my head as a beautiful person with talent, sensitivity, impeccable taste, surging positivity and indomitable spirit,

Keep flying, girl and don’t look back!

Monster Ahoy

I turn around. A flash pirouette to judge how far behind you are. Close, too close, you loom large, until I see double, or perhaps a trillion. I run on. A roaring floods me. Fear in my heart and blood in my head. Adrenaline in my feet.

“SET ME FREE” I scream, for me, more than you. I need to hear myself in my head and on the outside. To know that I’m still alive. God knows for how much longer. Blood breaks out from my nose and ears as the pressure in my head escalates.

I swerve as I almost hit a tree. Precious seconds as I skid, pick myself up and try to stop breathing, straining my ears and every other nerve I have on the job. You’re too close. I can hear you pant now. It spurs me on, I pound furiously on the uneven ground. Destination nowhere. Away from here.

A dead run away from death. Dead leaves crunch underfoot and the landscape blurs in my eyes, darkened masses of shadows looming everywhere at dusk. Death is everywhere around me.

You are more an imagined predator than real. Imagined enough to frighten the living daylights out of me. Almost. Real enough to get me screaming for help. To set me screaming for life. Screaming to be allowed to exist.

Then I stop. I am all out of everything. I’m ready. You no longer pound after me. You stalk me with lascivious anticipation in the darkness.

You execute a slow sweep up an invisible red carpet. A red carpet I have laid myself for you. How do I know it’s red when I cannot see it? Because it sounds red as you creep up on it. Do you know what red sounds like? Like screaming metal at the end of civilization.

Chaos was already all around me, but there was silence and state inside my head. Till now. Till I see you creep up in apparent covert strike. Then you’re in my face, screaming and shaking, pointing fingers to intimidate. About as subtle as an elephant in a tree. Where, if at all, DID you learn dissembling honey? I coulda taught you for free, if it weren’t too late for you and me.

I wait for you, sweat blinding my sane vision, red creeping up in my head in tongues of flame, a slow burn to chaos. My brows are gathering with thunder more than usual, a throwback to my cro-magnon ancestor, who would be proud to see me now. A red vein pounds in my temple as I create wrinkles for posterity. It ain’t a sign of age, its a sign of rage.

A monster’s a monster only if there is a victim to appreciate it.

Don’t cry at night darling, I will be with you here
Extinguish the light darling, the shadows will disappear…