Frictionless

                    "Whenever you feel like the crackly white walls and the crazy weird trees by the side of the road have gained a feasible personage and that they are prying at you with their cranky wonky eyes, that is the time you should realize that your life, for long, was a mere hallucination - where the plot had lost its priority, to a surreal hope of an alien presence, and now that it is gone, you are back in the real world where loss is the truth and gain is a myth."

                She was unassailable to local lovers. He was no local lover, not even a lover for that matter. A loser may be- nothing lost and nothing to be lost. Ha! That might be an understatement- a misleading understatement- one that might sound convincing enough, for you to stack your cards against the loser. As an act of mercy or say, common courtesy, let’s call it ‘him’. He welcomes us to a world of lost love.

                The two of them were friends. If two people talk to each other, they are by default and by general definition, friends. The two friends talked about the leaves and the twigs, the fresh sprouts, yellow flowers and the fruits, and at times about the wind. The dew, the sky and the crimson sunshine was left untouched to everyone’s surprise. Time was poignant, swift and slow. Lusty seasons blew past them once each time, poking the cobweb of informal dormancy with splendid sparks at times...

                Moths and beetles grew old and died but hopes will live forever. With smiley faces and profound tweets, it’s time to say goodbye. The wind blew at once, for one last time, this time hard, with all its might. Fellow wing-mates took off to be back, to buy some time from timeless stands. It’s true in fact that excess is bad- it masks the self with a condensed self. The breeze set in, disguised as hale, hysteric leaves shivered and swayed, rusty foliage rose with dust and clogged the silence with obscure frost. But once again they talked of nothing but the leaves and sprouts and fruits.

                With pain in the heart and smile in the eyes, they parted in snow, in style. With pointy beak, streamline and wings, she blew beyond his influence lines. Unspoken words waited to die, and so they did in recent past. But hopes, my friends, are made forever, and forever they last regardless of whatever. Favourites of dusk are spoilers of night; think for instance a cloud at night. Pearl and jade priced at par, shines and glows in respective clans. Keep them close and view from far- the white queen stands as the merchant’s pride!!

TRUE STORY

300 metres of road extending in front of you.
frilled by trees golden and brown..
textured asphalt marking its presence from beneath the rusty foliage
its been a while since black rubber last kissed his feet
not even the commonest barking animal is seen around anywhere

you, are standing there, pointlessly gazing at the whole beauty that nature has painted over there, on that dirty piece of canvas, over all that had once existed there, including the textured artificiality. you are not a poet, just a typical human, lets say man, marking his presence through his physical existance at present, for ur thoughts have let left you times ago, in the meadows unseen and pleasures forbidden.

the point is, somehow, man has lost one of his intrinsic properties. explore the wilds and u will find it, the thing tht was irradicated from human civilisation, in its deadliest best, in the animal kingdom - the ultimate factor that decides the leader or the head of the clan- its nothing but Individuality.

the present situation is that man owes his existance to friend circle and groupism. his world is surrounded by friends who guage him by the gang he belongs to. and he himself marks his presence as the representative of a group of men, to whom he owes years of branded slavery, and to whom he lost his brain, thought and nature permanently in the bargain he fought for - the mazy bargain where they throw you with Golden Peanuts on your eye, each time you care to get a better view.

by the way, mutation is real, moreover, its been claimed as one of the laws of nature. there's no reason to disbelieve it. or if u do, I invite you for a face off with me. back to the 300 m road- considering my natural instincts, i would have walked alone right through the middle of it, observing each and every single detail of it- through all the intricarte microfibrils of tenderness within which beauty found for herself a place to condense into a honeydew sleep; and would preserve them in memory with the same care and tenderness with which they were created.

trust me, loneliness is bliss- you just dont know it, or you dont care to.
but did u notice what the man did? his real self centrifuged out of him and started floating.

even while being in the midst of what could be possibly the star-studded centrestage of the paradise conferred to loneliness-personified, by mother nature herself, he is craving for a companion, a friend or his love. and that exactly is what I would define as insecurity. loneliness is a conservative girl, so reserved in her feelings that you just can't know her unless you deleberately want her.

involuntarily, the man desires a feel of having somebody with him anytime -even for an act of joy or smile, he needs company. I would like to ask the man one question- how much can he imbibe into him from the impressively infinite world around him, when he is so absorbed into the bubble which he is in, never out of and never been out of before, in his lifetime??

man was pre-assumed as a social being, and soon later, misinterpreted as the one who he lives in a cloud- a cloud that he carries with him, a cloud that houses several other components of a complete man- a cloud of mass action or literally, an assembly; which unfortunately volatilizes his individuality part by part by channelising himself into a form that is generally accepted. more wield is the part where the third person from the society actually accepts him, whereas stamps the mark of a rebel or a lone-wolf on an independent man. they just dont know the difference. they dont care to.

mutation has lead man to the brink of an optical illusion of stairs leading into nowhere.the man will still continue to laugh and make merry as he has always done, because he doesn't see the outsides, he just sees the insides of the bubble that he is in. and he thinks thats what the world means.

man by definition has become so shallow and subtle. isn't he!