Sunday, December 11, 2005

Midnight Epiphany

It is past midnight on Saturday when she rises from her bed to stand in the middle of the room, seeking purpose. It is a beautiful room, painted with colours chosen when she was sixteen. A tangerine wall looks sideways at bottle green curtains that move gently with the muttering undertones of night. At the head of a pile of mattresses, amber and gold blend intimately to slither off a clay jar and illuminate the ruins of settling into a new home.

There is no one here with her - but there should be. The overwhelming thought of the day.

Abruptly and silently, the weight of living alone in the big city bears down. She walks to the front door to slide heavy locks into place. Melancholia undulates in those twilight spaces as she makes her way back and settles into her bed and her book. Eighteen minutes later, the letters begin to lose meaning as her eyes lift into the corner cradled by the window sill and curtains.

Tonight, winter has come calling. Lying in bed, listening to the wind saying "rush, rush... but wait" and watching the street lights dancing their way into mosaics on the window pane. My tongue slides out a little. This moment tastes different. Not the vanilla of monotony but salty - like anticipation.

This moment smells of moonlight and peaches, taking birth into the sepia of this midnight.

This moment feels like blue ink drawn slowly... labouriously... beautifully... over scarlet paper into lines of wisdom and emptiness.

Like the underbelly of a fuzzy fruit. Grotesque and tantalizing.

Strange. To be brought, unawares and extempore, to the cusp of something big. Or something small. To feel the blue air and myself intermingling and coalescing to send something bursting forth into sudden, delightful... but hestitant animation.

How I ache this night. Simply living this moment. An eternity in this ephemeral epiphany. A riot of blue and scarlet, brown and copper, and green and tangerine.

For this night, dreamscapes of warmth and a whisper of peace. For this night, a journey to be begun... a road not yet taken. For this night, strength and fragility, forgiveness and surrender. For this night, memories. Old and worn, lovely and cherished.

For this night... may your rest be joyous.

She closes her book and switches off the light. Her smile warms the darkness and the street lights dance steadily on. In a heartbeat, she is asleep.

20 comments:

SaidBack said...

*standing ovation*

rqiqbjbs

Manan said...

The doubts be banished, I take it?

Parth said...

Excellent, excellent stuff!

wanderer said...

Oh, may you have many such emancipating epiphanies. :)

./w

madhavan said...

there's much colour (tangerine copper...) in your words and yet you write about the night

you write about stillness, sleep and yet the alphabets join as if they wish to burst into life

lakesidey said...

Nicely!

See ya in a fortnight....

livinghigh said...

mmm... the sleeping pills didn;t help? ;-)

nice piece, and thanks for dropping by.

the cowlick said...

that was beautiful.. so much imagery!

Geetanjali said...

A story after my own heart - countless times have I sought refuge in books! Enjoyed the rich textures in this story - the smells, colours and most importantly tastes lingered on in my mnd after I finished reading it....not so much the content, as the feel...hope that makes some sense! :-)

K said...

Thanks for dropping by, lovely piece! Liked Eco's article about technology also. I would still rate 'The Name of the Rose' as one of the best novels (as well as Thrillers) ever. I'm currently going to start 'Ka'.

Blue Athena said...

I reaally loved reading this. The images that form are delicate and fragile. Beautiful! :)

Aditya Barve said...

Melancholy at its best, a beautiful moment, that! Thank you for the read...

Ash said...

Wonderful :)

And to answer your question, I passed out in 2004, and was in the same class as Adrian Dias(Brian's bro) na dknew him very well :)

Sunanya's name doesn't ring a bell but my memory sucks, so I can't really say !:)

Unfortunately, I was never involve din Malhar - my one lasting regret ...

Manish Bhatt said...

Hye, congratulations on being featured on Desipundit.

Casablanca said...

This is just beautiful! I dont have words... and in many ways I identify with the living-alone-in-a-big-city character.

Prerona said...

beautiful!

came over from ash's blog for a peek. very nice stuff here! will come back for more reading :)

>|' ; '| said...

wow...thats beautifully phrased.

lakesidey said...

> In a heartbeat, she is asleep.

And has remained so since.

Come on my dear, it's been ten days. Wake up and write something :)

finnegan said...

This reads sort of like a dream within a lucid dream, as though you had dreamt yourself awake. Or somethig...

Love the sensuous, symbolist lair of a room you describe. It's very subtly erotic.

Extempore said...

@Pepper: *bows* - thank you!

@Manan: I think so... :-)

@Parth: Thank you!

@Wanderer: Thank you! Am so glad this one elicited a response!

@Madhavan: Am glad you saw it as I did. :-)

@Lakesidey: See you this evening!

@Living High: Ah yes, too many sleeping pills, I think! :-) Thanks for dropping by.

@The Cowlick: Thanks!

@Geets: Am so glad... was hoping you would see it too! *hug*

@K: Thanks! Ka, eh? Let me know how it was because I'd like to read it but have very conflicting reviews! Am reading In Xanadu right now. Thanks for dropping by!

@Blue Athena: Thanks! :-)

@Aditya: Thank you for both your kind words and for dropping by! Do come by again!

@Ash: Thank you, my dear! I met Andy recently and spoke to him about our "meeting"! :-)

@M: Thanks for the tip! Do come by again. :)

@Casablanca: Thanks, my dear! You're back, eh?

@Prerona: Thanks! :)

@Poison: Thanks!

@Finnegan: Well, it sort of was. I was reading at about 01:00 am and suddenly put my book down to go and write this. What I finally posted is perhaps 2% changed from the original. :-)

Am glad you liked it!