shades of shadows- first chapter

7/30/2019 Shades of Shadows- First Chapter

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Shades of Shadows

by Pushpam Singh


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Pushpam

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Contents

Chapter 1 White

Chapter 2- Red

Chapter 3- Grey

Chapter 4- Red


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Shades of Shadows

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Chapter 1

White


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Dark! was it?

Dark indeed it was when I had first opened my eyesIremember clearly.

Openedeyes..?

Yes, with the roll of curtains, my eyes from the comfortable corridors of my sockets, sighted an

ambience; a bit of ordinary and a little extra, an illimitable stretch of monotonousness and

homogenization. Silence was monotonized and darkness was homogenized. Black was artfully

crafted into the ambience of the place and the precision of every cut incorporated was worth

admiration and applause but I didnt know how to feel those feelings, back then.

First encounter with consciousness and I found myself standing in a vast dark hall, blindfolded,

with not even a ray of light ready to intervene between me and darkness. Silence, an excellent

alter ego, was acting as an abettor and an accomplice to darkness, in that vast hall, jettisoning

all the dots of encouragement. With cold eyes, I looked for them in that homogenized space

but couldnt spot a single dot; not a thing my eyes could climb up to or jump down from, not a

thing my eyes could swim in or walk on, not a thing my eyes could talk to or listen to.

That was the place of my birth. That was the moment of my birth. Though its been a long

journey, I can still breathe the first impression of that desolated place; shabbily treated

scratched wallpapers, holding loosely, onto the surrounding walls. Even now its details exist inmy heart, not as faint-line memory but as solid-bitter cubes, which, at the slightest of my poke,

will get dissolved and add bitterness to the sip of the sipper.

What could I say to add to the sweetness of the sip?

No matter what I said, sweetness would still be a distant dream.

It was an envelope of darkness surrounded by merciless cloud of surprise and chilled smoke of

unrest, I was born into. It was dead air, I was breathing. It was dead air, I was breeding. Standing

on the edge of my existence, holding onto weak balustrades, which could rip off any moment, I

was looking for a light. I was standing on the edge, knowing I could be tossed into deep-chilled-

merciless existence of ordinariness, where hope, also, was only a disguise.

When action stumbles hope sinks and when hope stumbles, everything sinks. Such was the

condition of my heart at that moment that I felt I would sink. I hardly knew how to proceed andwhere to proceed. But I knew where hope ends, wait begins.

And then, dots of encouragement appeared.

Dots of encouragement?

Yes, in that monotonousness of silence and darkness, my eyes spotted tiny white dots.

Mirage?

A dot, as pure as white, appeared in the middle of hemisphere. It was a treat to watch, a sudden

soundless blob in the black hemisphere. Invisible waves out of that creation touched my cheeks

like soft hands of a dark angel. It appeared tiny and unimpressive in the beginning but with lot

of focusing and refocusing, it became prominent and looked like white living sapling, planted

on the inner side of black bowl. Soon the black bowl sprouted with soundless blobs and filled

the whole hemisphere with white saplings. That was the first most beautiful sight I had seen. I

can still recall the freshness of that moment, when I had first spotted those tiny specks.

This perfect unison of two ordinary existences formed the most extraordinary blend in the heart

of dark sky. It was exhilarating to see white asterisks twinkling and murmuring in the backdrop

of black drape. The white saplings were so salient in their outlook that I felt like plucking few

and hiding them safe in my secret pockets, but I forgot that I was the Gardener of this lovely

Garden and those were my flowers.

Like any other mind, I was sure about few things and not so sure about few.


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Though I was sure it was dark, I wasnt quite sure why? Though I was sure I was awake, I wasnt

sure if I was lying down with bowl on my top or standing with bowl standing upright against my

face. Though I was sure I was breathing, I wasnt sure why? Though I was sure I was seeing, I

wasnt sure why?

In midst of all these, whats and whys, I didnt realize, I had embraced the black inverted bowl

sprouted with white saplings but again I wasnt sure, why?

Answer to these, I guess, lies in our limitation to decide upon all the choices we make.

Like a new born, I too had no choice about my place and timing of birth. Like a new born, I too

had no choice about my companions and benefactors.

But like a new born, I couldnt protest, I couldnt cry, I couldnt be angry and I couldnt seek

attention.

Why feel sad about something you dont control? Why feel proud about something you dont

control?

Having accepted the silent spell of dark sky and my limitations in that shade of existence, I

stood motionless and waited for the spell to end.

The spell was finally broken, when a lightning of curiosity struck me and I got curious. I got

curious about my existence. I got curious about the glitter of the extravagant union. I got

curious about the precision of black cut. But as I thrived to quench the thirst of my curiosity, thehackneyed pattern disappointed me again.

All, my eyes could see was tiny glitter on black canvas. Shades of feelings changed inside me

again and everything looked hollow and superficial. It was then that a sense of compunction hit

me and I closed my eyes with a very heavy heart. Such was the weight of that moment that I

was almost touching the floor of ordinariness, filled with chilly inimical fluid. Soon I found

myself wrapped in blanket of fear.

I got afraid. I got afraid of the situation, and I got afraid of the ticking moments which I assumed

would stop anytime, soon, to destroy my beingness.

Fear is a weak force. It reverses the ripening effect of any soul

Unfortunately at that moment, I was holding the finger of fear, trying to negotiate with the

wavy patch instead of enjoying the crests and troughs of the wave. Instead of enjoying thebeauty of black canvas and white glitter, I was looking for an escape route.

Escape route?

I closed my eyes out of fear. I closed my eyes to escape the frisson of unfriendly fluid and to

escape the imaginary wrath of ticking moments, but opened it in a flash as soon as I sensed,

sound of another wave approaching me. I opened my eyes, as my heart experienced a change

in the shade of shadow.

Two waves, ordinary and extra, communed once again, to form a perfect union of colors. With

change in the shade of shadow my inner self cheered, applauded and exclaimed in joy.

Dark glass of night had broken. The shattered pieces collapsed then regrouped instantaneously

to form a new shade of glass. Transparent and vivid this time, with all the possible shades of a

lively spirit.

The new glass reflected a red-face, peeping out, from below the line of demarcation. He had a

beguiling gloriole around his face. It was that romantic aurora that gave me the first hazy

glimpse of my beautiful kingdom.

The moment froze in my heart as he extended his red hands to infinity and shook hands with

every soul looking in his direction. He animated every particle he touched. He injected a new

breath in every soul he kissed. His magnetic touch opened hearts of every soul like an unfolding

flower. Every animized soul stretched their arms to embrace the visitor cheerfully.


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Every soul smiled, to acknowledge his efforts. He was a magician, vivifying every soul

magically, painting every soul magically and giving a new shade to the kingdom.

The red-face, who was peeping till now, from behind the line of demarcation, started easing

himself, out of the azimuth glass. With a brush in his hand and smile on his face, he started

painting the dark bowl in benevolent shades of blue, green, yellow, orange, red, white and

purple, beginning from the eastern corridor.

A patch of white cloud, floating in the middle of sky, turned silvery. A pool of water, on the

floor, turned golden. All the souls gracefully welcomed the introduction of fresh colors into

their dark lives. His magical brush soon left its impactful taste all over the bowl and translated

my company from asterisk saplings to bluish curtains.

By now darkness was swept off the floor, silence was broken and red-face had taken a

comfortable position. A new humble life, ready to be introduced, waited at the door. I could

hear its desperate knock.

This transition from smoky black bowl to romantic aurora, melodious andante and satiny

whispers amazed me. I felt an adrenaline rush of excitement and curiosity within my boundary

and saw my cells peeping out of my secret windows with curious eyes, to explore the beautiful

beauty. Just like a baffled infant, surrounded by mysteries and trying hard to understand the

ongoing, I too was caught in that web trying hard to connect each thread to its origin but wasgetting entangled each time. I didnt want to give up so soon but I suppose the web just had too

many threads.

Journey from the deepest ridge to the highest cliff was so quick and prompt that it left me

speechless and spellbound. I had never expected such a turnaround in such short span. And I

had never witnessed anything so divinely pleasurable. Hence my heart decided to emboss it on

its papyrus background as I couldnt afford to lose such panoramic landscapes and beauteous

sceneries.

My beautiful beauty was a heavenly paradise, unparallel was her blessed contour and

incomparable was her attire. She was seated in the cradle of nature, surrounded by majestic

peaks sparkling at the onset of golden beams, tall trees whispering in each others ears and

colorful butterflies aromatizing the whole space with colorful source of sweetness.Heart of my beauty was occupied by a silent water body, beset on all sides by tall shrubs,

cheerful leaves and green grass. It was tranquil azure, and carried image of blue sky and was the

official broadcaster of all the grayish transitions moving in the sky. Cool breeze caused low

waves on the chest of Lake and aroused the hearts of tiny creatures floating inside.

Tree-of-Love stood confidently on the western edge of Lake. He was home to swarm of

dragonflies, horde of parrots, drove of sparrows, group of mynahs and flock of crown birds.

A band of oscines performed melodiously from their seats on top of these branches and

skipped down later on wet glittering green carpet. Their hopping on the wet floor left behind an

appreciable design, although complex in nature.

The lovely Garden, along the Lake, had exotic bouquets of flowers arranged benignantly in the

backdrop of green leaves. The reds of roses, whites of lilies, yellows of marigolds, violets of

tulips and pinks of dahlias had perfected the art of beautiful pattern. Stripped violet, twiny pink,

white missy, shady blue, dotted red heart, greeny bells and curvy yellow had formed a comely

garland of flowers around her neck.

Apart from comely flowers, she was also the nursery of rare trees. Yellow grooved tree,

mountain blue berry tree, tapering rose maple tree, white flossy tree, green bubbling tree,

rainbow tree, violet shower tree, orange cloak tree and butterfly wing tree had formed a perfect

mesh on the chest of her tapering hill.


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The band of colors, drawn out in the form of arcs, in the sky looked like bandanna bespangled in

belles hair. The glowing rainbow added glamour to the beauty of the place. A tiny stream took

an arterial route and trickled down to the heart. It was the life line for every soul there.

Air was rich in fragrance, ambience was romantic and red-face looked handsome.

Whole space looked benign; fresh and full of life. Every soul in that infinity looked extremely

happy. Shades of blue and green dominated the joyous canvas. Small birds fluttered their way

through Garden, Lake, stream, flowers and trees. Breeze found their way behind these small

birds. Overall she was a picturesque portray of a wonderland.

I named my beautiful beauty, Kausar. Such was the charm of Kausar that everyone including

me was completely absorbed in her. The air was blowing to attract her, the Sun was glowing to

charm her, birds were flying to capture her, flowers were blooming to ravish her and sky was

dressing to enchant her. Every animated soul was trying to please her, to find a place in her

heart and why not? After all she was truly a peach.

The red-glory celebration which transformed the mood of shadow, in Kausar, was a real delight

to watch. Midway through the celebration, all the souls could be seen dancing to the tunes of

songs of nature.

Song of Nature, a beautifully rhymed tune, was entrapping the attention of all the Souls of

Nature.Everyone got deeply involved in the red-glory celebration. For every tune, there was a tap,

there was a clap and there was a rap. Each rap was followed by an explosion of red color

infusing millions of pigments of enjoyment into atmosphere, further deepening the color of

rabidness between the Souls of Nature.

I too enjoyed that flavor of rabidity in the company of jovial Sun, lofty peaks, tall trees, green

leaves, lush grass, exotic flowers, still water, bubbly stream, sweet birds, rich air and lovely

rainbow. I was grateful for the company of such benign friends. They all looked mad in the red-

glory celebration. They all looked happy in each others company. It certainly was a wondrous

existence.

Then must have been mysterious?

I know every wondrous existence automatically assumes a mysterious tag and every mysterioustag is misunderstood for its complexity, when as a matter of fact it could be the simplest form

of existence. All it takes is diligent reading and patient listening to understand the thought

process behind that simple-looking, complex arrangement. Such was the case when I began my

journey sometime back in the lap of black bowl.

After the grand conclusion of red-glory celebration, things looked bright and promising. I found

myself in the company of a comfortable red boat, sailing smoothly and assured of no other

surprises. But just when things looked sunny, I sensed the presence of an alien wave. The alien

wave, along with it, carried an image. The solidified image looked different from everyone I had

seen till now.

While every soul in Kausar looked red, he was colorless.

Air was red so was mountain, Lake was red so was earth, birds were red so were butterflies,

trees were red so were rays. While everyone was rejoicing the germination of life after the

divine shower, he stood upstage. There was something unusual about him, which kept him

distant from everyone; I named him human.

I am an excellent teller but poor helper, excellent observer but poor influencer, excellent

recorder but poor decoder, excellent thinker but poor interferer. Like everyone else I am also an

excellent poor.

I know. I know


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picturesque scenery and mashed pride of Kausar under the heavily priced ego of silence, yet I

opened my eyes.

But the picture, my eyes saw, surprised me. My negative feelings disappeared as soon as I

found my wonderland basking in white light. The black bowl, the magical black bowl had

hoisted a charming white-face exactly in the place of red-face. She was showering white light

on Kausar. My heart cheered at yet another change in shade flavor.

Stage was set once again, around calm waters of Lake this time, for the white-glory

celebration. Flickering candles were suspended in air, new set of larks joined in a new

formation, slight breeze tickled every participant and white-face glowed, along with her other

couturiers in the waters of Lake. The celebration which began with dawn had morphed a little

but was still on.

While my heart was glued to the grand stage, where celebration was on, my eyes were

constantly watching human. My eyes were closely watching his moves. I was following him

from the time he sat beside Lake, gazed at calm waters, threw pebbles to bestir and walked

into his emptiness. That was at the time, when, Sun was setting and the whole nature was

bidding him farewell. Even at that moment he was not moved by the sound of jubilation of

Souls of Nature; instead he preferred to overhear his sounds of silence.

This time again, when the whole world had regrouped to rejoice and celebrate white-glory, hedidnt, at all, express his willingness to participate in white-glory celebration and instead sat

mum, close to the centre stage with his eyes closed in serenity. He tried to look as calm and

serene as he could but beneath he was deeply agitated, beneath he was looking for something,

something which would find him peace. At that moment, even I couldnt guess what could that

be?

White-glory celebration continued for a long time and dipped Souls of Nature in red ink like the

red-glory celebration. During this celebration, whole sphere mystified and coated itself in

cherubic taste of love. It was impossible for anyone to distant herself from this intensified aura.

Every soul was hanging onto a part of this cloud, in hope of a shower, of love.

When it was over and things settled down in Kausar, a mysterious silence gripped souls of

Kausar. Dark sky, in the company of charming Moon and twinkling stars, looked pleasing.Surely must have been

Although I cant draw a clear line of division to separate the timings of red and white glory

celebration, a slight discoloration in east can be assumed for that.

Shade changed once again, this time on eastern horizon. It was time for dawns red-glory

celebration. Red-face reappeared from behind the line of demarcation and what followed that,

was a maddening and thundery brouhaha, in a rhythmic style.

Life in Kausar was all about red and white glory celebration, rejoicing the gift of benediction,

associating closely with Souls of Nature, understanding the language of nature, enjoying the

music of nature and singing and dancing to its tunes. I was proud owner of that wonderful

kingdom.

In days to come, life in the kingdom of Kausar aggrandized itself and adorned itself with

innumerable feats of rarest combination. Everyone was in love with everyone. Sun was in love

with earth, stars were in love with Moon, Moon was in love with darkness, air was in love with

trees, trees were in love with clouds, birds were in love with sky, sky was in love with Lake, Lake

was in love with stream and stream was in love with mountains. Love had stitched them all in

such a benign thread that they all loved the flavor of their soused bespoke linen.

But love had not yet been able to impregnate the heart of human. Although he was present all

the time, in the arena, at the time of celebrations, it never had an effect on his heart. Possibly,


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due to his unwillingness, to mingle with Souls of Nature. Possibly, due to his unwillingness, to

allow cool breeze inside. Possibly, due to his unwillingness, to breathe fresh smell.

Wish he had allowed it all.

One evening while the red-glory celebration was on, he ignored its presence and instead sat on

the rock, watched Sun lay back in his bed and heard giggling waters of Lake.

Bestow him with a gift I whispered

Later on, he lied down beside the Lake and looked up with befuddled eyes, like I did on my first

day. He looked at tempting Moon and murmuring stars but couldnt much appreciate their

presence. After awhile I saw him ambling down his valley of dreams.

Dream valley is a wonderful place for a pleasure trip. It gives, a heart, the freedom to fabricate

and consider any combination of colours. It evenly spreads out papyrus surface to paint, with

umpteen numbers of colours to choose from. It is a place for fearless expression of desires and

often acts as secretive meeting ground. Dream valley is a beauteous place, and most of the

time, synonym for love.

His subconscious decision was aimed at ploughing unploughed pages of Kausar in hope of

finding sparkling stones of memorable memories.

Considering his lonely days, so far, it was a good choice.But even in that mighty land it was all going quiet and silent for him. He looked troubled even in

arms of night seraph.

Was that his singularity or forced exhibition of a borrowed character under immense pressure?

I couldnt know. I decided to follow him silently instead.

Knock, Knock, Knock, a sudden knock and auricular whisper on his door woke him up. He

abandoned his moseying and came out of his dream valley at once. He looked bemused. The

whisper he heard was unique in its own sense.

Whisper?

The rich secrets of dream valley opened limitless doors for him with that knock. Key was to

build a palace of dreams upon that faint whisper. It cheered him but only for a moment. He

turned restless after that short cheer and looked for the origin of that whisper in order to solvehis mystery.

Excited and confused after the incident, he searched the sky, the Lake, the Moon and the stars.

He even looked into his own heart for a clue but couldnt find a thing. He couldnt solve the

mystery of stray whisper. Disappointed he sat down and allowed his heart to think


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In the middle of night

when I was busy painting stars

a silent knock on my door woke me up

Tick Tick Tick

the hands were ticking

when a seraph snuggled into my dream valley

I woke up moments later

with my eyes wide open

but could only feel warm presence of her fragrance

I looked around for her

but could only find her comforting reverberations

I set myself up moments later

to find that mysterious tickle

in the darkness of night

I asked the charming moon and the crawling wind

I asked the twinkling stars and the carting lakebut could only find ignorant faces

I closed my eyes moments later

travelled back in time

waited for her to walk into my dreams again

waited for her to knock again

and say 'Hi this time

I opened my doors moments later

laid down red-carpet

lighted candles alongfor her to seek my abode

and walk through that

But moments later

I am still waiting

for that one glimpse once again

for that one moment once again

seek me, bless me

seek me, bless me


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Seek me, Bless meSeek me, Bless me these words kept echoing in the acoustical walls of his

wishful heart, without a sign of dampness. The sonority in its vibration didnt allow his anxious

heart to settle down. Each sigh preceding his request, clearly expressed the meltdown in his

heart. Each word he uttered was inked in his sadness and expressed his humble call for a

shower.

He wished for a shower of love, where he could just wet himself, where he could enjoy himself

and cut away his chains of loneliness. He wasnt too expressive but his heart bespoke of it all.

While the whole nature was doused and soused in love, he stood uncared and unattended.

Although he had never cared for a romantic cloud ride in the vastness of open playground, far

away from everything or for a pleasant cool breeze flight through huge corridors of ballrooms

or for a pleasurable river cruise on the tingling warm waters or for an astonishing aesthetic

show in the company of amorously tempting Moon; he now wished for another whisper so he

could also feel accompanied.

The red carpet which he had laid down in his green lawn saw only one frequent visitor and it

was Disappointment. He became restless and tossed sides in faintest hope of yet another

knock, yet another whisper but the flame died down quickly.

He was determined to find out that spark which lighted his dead flame.

How?He kept asking, eliminating and hoping.

Then a sudden bubble burst of anxiety in his mind challenged all the floodgates of his fort

What if all this is just an illusion? What if all this is just a self knitted tale? What if all this is just a

mirage? What if all this is just an impossible coincidence? What if.?

Was that really an illusion?

Stop he shouted and caught his head with his hands. He tightly held his head in an attempt

to cage all his unnecessary thoughts. He held his head to arrest the outflow of all his unneeded

sentiments. He held his head until there was silence.

Once in the company of silence, he wished for the focus of a focalized flame and not the

misguidance of a diffused flame. So he allied with his optimistic heart and ignored his

pessimistic mind.Next morning, he got up early, even before Sun took out his magical brush, and walked towards

Lake, with hope that dawn would be promising, although he didnt know which path to rely on.

He stood near Lake and with keen eyes surveyed his surroundings. He stood there with his

aerial instincts at alert, in the hope of catching some relevant airy apparitions.

Unable to catch any signal he decided to walk eastwards where dynamics were changing.

He walked around the Lake, up the hill, besides lovely trickling stream and through the Garden,

in hope of catching some trail, in continuation to his last night dream. But again luck shied away

from him.

By now Sun had started working with his magical brush and his heart shifted his focus to that.

His heart, for the first time, glued to the fantastic work of adept painter. For the first time he

noticed the tickling air, becalmed waters, fragrant flowers, wet grass, chirping birds and

princely nature. He admired and acknowledged their beauty.

He was amazed to see the scenic modulation going on all around him. Everything appeared to

his miniature eyes as allegorical illumination of live wallpapers on huge screens, hanging down

from the balconies of sky. Such a speedy transition placed him in front of a globule, of moment.

Standing in front of that moment he thought Is this the spark, I was looking for? Is this the

whisper, which called me? Is this the knock, which woke me? Is this the moment, which visited

me?


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While his logical mind was willing to accept this fantastic fantasy, to be the origin of last nights

knock and whisper, his emotional heart was playing a different motion picture. While his mind

wanted to agree to the terms of this cerebration, his heart refused to nod in acceptance.

Though he was convinced of undisputed marvel of nature, he was more convinced that there

were some more dimensions attached to this spectacular shell, some more hidden wings yet to

pop out and fly him away, to altogether a new another world, where he would possibly meet his

last nights shadow.

He wanted to realize his dream. Hence while his mind enjoyed the scenic beauty, he closed the

eyes of his heart and travelled back in time. With his closed eyes he tried to enact last nights

experience.

White light, silent water, poised breeze, dark figures and in middle of all that, he saw himself

lying down, listening to the coils of creatures, murmuring of leaves, and then he experienced,

fall of sudden darkness with culmination of his eye lids; saturating thoughts, inquiring

emotions, agitating cells, retaliating moments..and.and then he paused.

While scrutinizing his reel of last night, he paused at a point and rewound it again and again,

but the hazy figure still stood adamantly blemished. After concentrating hard and directing all

his mentations to that, he could finally adjudicate the figure a little.

The figure looked likely similar to him barring few differences. It had little longer hair, delicatebody, beautiful carved out hands, legs, glowing face and sparkling mouth. With this faint

outline image he inferred that last night he had a close encounter with an angel. His heart

cheered this favorable outcome, of lengthy cumbersome exercise and then remembered her in

his own style by portraying her beauty and by talking to her..


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Mysterious girl of my dream

you endeared me last night

walked into my abode

woke me up and left me restless


where do you belong?

do you belong to stars?

or moon's your heart

do you belong to clouds?

or spring's your soul

do you belong to heaven?

or you from world down below


you endeared me last night

I couldn't see you

but I know you're angelI couldn't see your face

but I know it's graceful

I couldn't hear you

but I know it's sweet

I couldn't see your eyes

but I know it's torrid

I couldn't see your smile

but I know it's lovely


meet me in this world tooI am eager

reveal me your hiding

bless me with blissful blessings

I am waiting

I am waiting


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I am waitingI am waiting these words kept reverberating in his hearts hallway, long after

sunrise was over. The plangency of his heart expressed his desperation to beckon his dreams

angel. He looked like sending airy requests in all visible directions for someone to interrupt and

respond. This sky rocketing fireworks showed his state of gloominess in which he was

breathing. He was eager and nothing would have made it clearer.

The Garden had evident presence of positive vibes, which comforted his heart. So he sat in the

Garden in middle of colourful juvenile flowers, lively trees and lazy breeze, and tried to

remember her face. He rewound that paused moment again and again, in desperation, to get a

clearer view of her but unfortunately that reel refused to get clearer than that.

He looked at flowers, they responded, by smiling at him. He looked at trees, they responded, by

smiling at him. But he couldnt smile back at them.

Why?

Isnt it inherent nature of few souls, not to interact with others in first instant and instead wait

for others to make the first move? Isnt it general tendency of few souls to cast a hollow wall of

ego around them and feel excessive pride in that? Isnt it common among few souls to mould

their temperament in such peculiar ways, that it suits only them?

I know

He was ailing from same syndrome, even without him knowing about it.He didnt know the antic of opening up a conversation with such friendly souls. He didnt the

caper of interacting with such jubilant souls. He had been detaining his desires since beginning.

He had been limiting his wishes since beginning. This act of confinement had made him

helpless, in front of Souls of Nature. He stood at a distance from them. Even though he was

sitting amongst the richest, I would consider him the poorest.

Towards evening he returned to his temporary dwelling, beside Lake and rested his back

against a rock. On his way back, he paid visit to warm stream gurgling down the hill, rocks

arranged in an irregular pattern and animals racing on green bed-sheets. He enjoyed the sunset

celebration but with his disheartened heart.

Next day east discolored before usual and by the time he returned from his early morning

leisure trip, birds were out of their nests, hopping on wet grass and picking up their fortunes. Airhad slugged through natures soul and Lake had captured the chefs masterpiece on her canvas.

Trees nodded and leaves cheered this insight.

Although he sat there in the middle of treat, he couldnt really appreciate the chefs plan behind

preparation of such a recipe. He couldnt elevate himself to a state from where he could

appreciate, all that was happening around him, in a better way.

At that point he only cared about his nights dream. His soul only wanted to meet his angel. So

he closed his eyes again, to bring her out of his dream valley. He closed his eyes again, to

imagine her in reality.

He began sailing in her thoughts, in a barque, even unknown to him and began swimming in her

thoughts, in waters, even unknown to him. It was all happening to him. His imaginary island,

from where he began sailing, had a place, only for him and his angel, and he had comfortably

placed himself there, with her. Once on the island, with closed eyes, he played with waves of his

imagination. Once off the island, with open eyes, he decided to walk towards the Garden.

As he walked towards the Garden with a heavy heart, he left a dreadful trail on wet grass. Air

bemoaned his state as he swept the floor and dead leaves fell in despair. He seemed to be

entering into his dead quarters of quietness.

The threads of web tightened their grip around his hand and forced him to surrender.

Exhausted from his unproductive indulgence and unable to connect each thread of the web to

its origin, he surrendered.


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Surrender..?

Yes

Surrender signifies no further attachment to the pursuit and no further hope, of a gain, out of

pursuance but sometimes surrender secretly leads to a flash of light in perfect harmony with

blink of eyes. When these two harmonize in perfect accord, soul shines.

He decided to close his windows, bolt his doors and retire to serenity. After such an exhaustive

search he had convinced himself that the angel, he met in his dream, was just an illusionary

cloud which wasnt going to precipitate and there was no point in playing this game of mirror

maze. But just when he was about to bolt his door, a flash of light blinked in perfect harmony

with his eyes.

He saw a silhouette likely similar to him. The shadow looked likely similar to his angel. Although

his mind wasnt sure of its authenticity, his heart testified its genuineness.

At this he hid behind a tree and watched the figure, moseying in Garden.

He saw her picking up flowers from ground and also humming a tune. Though unknown to him,

his heart smiled at the tune. She had adorned herself with flower laces on her head, around her

neck, around her waist, in her hands and in her legs. Her skin was glowing and her eyes were

flowing.

At this he seemed to have found his island to land and known waters to sail.As the golden beam was catalyzing his thoughts he closed his eyes and navigated in her

thoughts. He sailed and sailed till he reached the farthest point along the horizon of her

thoughts. From there he returned back but when he returned back, his angel was gone from the

scene. He got so involved with his angel, that he didnt anticipate that she could move. His

heart, sad and hurt, then confronted his mistake and repented.


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Shades of Shadows

17


caught my eyes at dawn

picking up flowers in the lawn

spreading her scent all around

She had a graceful face of an angel

wore a lovely smile

and had her long black hair tied back

Her lips were trembling in the early hours of dawn

and her dress was getting wet in dew

Her eyes were sparkling with emotions

and her satiny white skin was glowing


caught my eyes at dawn

walking tall in the misty lawn

humming a melodious tune

She was as beautiful as I had imagined

She was as gorgeous as I had thought

She was infront of me

picking up flowers

I wanted to talk to her

but she kept moving

I wanted to talk to her

but she didn't hear my susurrations


caught my eyes at dawncaressing green leaves

talking to birds

I was lost in mooning

regained myself awhile later

but, she was gone

she was gone

afar from the misty lawn

Now I wish I had another chance


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Pushpam

18

Having said this, he crumbled. His heart, under great distress, looked up to the sky. His eyes,

under great woe, looked down to the ground. And, unable to bear the load of his agonistic face

and numb hands, he went down on his knees. He covered his face, to give his sadness some

space to cry.

While his sorrowfulness cried in his lonely quarters, a sudden transformation in the mood of

passing moment turned everything, black and white. All his imaginary sketches on the glorious

canvas sweated into rare solid droplets, and were flown away, by heavy storm of the moment

passing through him, to a place far away from his island. The violent storm had no mercy on

him and it brutally uprooted all his healthy vegetation, which he had been nurturing. The storm

completely vandalized his salubrious nursery and there was nothing much he could do about

that, except wait.

Earth below his feet suddenly appeared swampy and he felt like losing ground. Such was the

weight of that moment that he felt like being pushed into a marsh of dead hope. He covered his

face not to hide his face from Souls of Nature but to hide his tears from everyone.

The soot of distress amassed on his inner walls, condensed and precipitated in the form of

tears. Every drop of tear cried for his misfortune. Every drop of tear wept for his situation. She

was his angel and only she could complete him but he had just missed his only chance to realize

his dream.What could he possibly do now?

He ran amok in her search; looked behind every tree in the Garden, with a hope, that she might

be hiding behind some tree, asked every flower, with a hope, that she might have hinted them

her next halt, inquired with every butterfly, with a hope, that she might have told them about

her residence and shook every soul, with a hope, that she might have talked to someone about

her plans. But that entire struggle resulted into nothing but another disappointment.

This soundless sound of desolation landed him back to the place, from where he began his air

travel. Only after he collected the wreckage of his glass house he realized, he was standing

alone in cold and mist. It was only after he saw deep undercuts in his memory book, by sharp

edges of remains of glass house, he realized that his dream had vanished and his angel had

disappeared.He screamed at the injustice and with a very heavy heart looked up to the sky and squalled. He

shouted at the Sun, sky, trees, flowers, leaves, butterflies, grass, air and everything around him.

Addled about the expression of crushed dry leaves on wet floor and aromatic hangover of air

around branches, he started banging his head on grass.

I couldnt be sure if he was punishing himself or bargaining with Souls of Nature about her

whereabouts. Whatever be the motto, he tried to revive himself, sitting in the middle of that

black and white reel. He stopped after awhile and looked all around. He looked sad to me. He

really was sad.

His heart had spotted a green oasis in morning but he couldnt capitalize on that. Having lost

the green image, he felt defeated. Defeated, he chose to walk down his dusty memory lanes

once again, in hope of another green oasis.

With lot of efforts he dragged his heavy heart out of that scene towards Lake. He placed

himself on the grass bassinet and lied down. He kept rewinding the Garden encounter; her face,

her voice, her eyes, and her skin. It boosted his ink of fascinated imagination for a moment.

Lady of his dreams was angelic and beatific. She had worn glowing satiny attire both in his

dream and in Garden. She had put flower laces on her head, around her neck, around her waist,

in her hands and in her legs, both in his dream and in Garden. She had left him speechless both

in his dream and in Garden.


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Shades of Shadows

19

With nothing left on the cards to play for, he decided to wait for the night to fall.

Wait?

When we set out to achieve something and fail in between, we must always return back to the

origin and try again. It helps in adding an extra momentum to the push and reaching the target.

He too decided to return to the origin and restart his search.

But night wasnt as optimistic as he had imagined. Night failed to illuminate her, on huge

screens of his dream. Night failed to induce the magic of anointing dream. It left him even more

restless. He got up and tried talking to the Moon, stars, Lake, flora, fauna and even dreadful

silence, but that didnt help either.

He gazed at the Moon, and tried to extract her angel out of abstract but forgot the very nature

of extraction. A drop of hope can only be expected out of a wet abstract. A shower of divinity

was needed, as everything had dried up there, to bless the succus of his dreams.

Next day he got up early and walked towards Garden. Sun was still dressing up for the day and

shadows were still sleeping. As he descended down the hill, he paused. He paused as he again

spotted her. I paused to listen to the whispers of his feelings, emotions and actions as he

approached her


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Pushpam

20

Walking through the woods, down the hill

a unique scent of woman attracted me, pulled me

As I approached the tree, I saw a serene beauty

Her face was glowing

like on full Moon

looked distinctly innocent

like of a new born

that divine face enchanted me

wish I could hide it forever

in deepest safe

far away from any ray

But I feared

Her eyes were sparkling

shelling out love at zero

looked bottomless to depth unknown

jovial at the surfacethose jolly eyes enchanted me

wish I could cuddle in there

and be there forever

like a happy lost soul

But I feared

Her hairs were long

woven from satiny black silk

opportunist wind flirting with them

and kissing her innocent image

those silky black hair enchanted mewish I was wind

with licence to play with her

and blow over curvy topography

But I feared

Her lips were soft

as petals of rose

worked on explicitly last minute

adding glitter to glittering

those moist lips enchanted me

wish I could taste the moitness

enjoy the softness

of pinkish embroidery

But I feared


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Shades of Shadows

21

Her body was delicate

as a lily flower

gently placed, delicately appliqued

acceding her to apotheosis

that body enchanted me

wish I could hold her in my arms

feel the warmthness

of leisurely baroqueness

But I feared

As I approached her

she started fading away

I tried to stop her, but failed

I tried to tell her, but failed

I cried, I cried out loud

wish I had control over time

but I failed again

I lookedas she disappeared into antiquity


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Pushpam

22

The toast which was raised to celebrate his momentarily elation, tumbled down, and the

remains of it lied crushed under the heavy weight of his inflated heart. He stood over those

flattened pieces of emotions and moaned. The terrible pain, flickered the flame, lighted up only

few moments ago by the momentarily flash of light.

Every time he saw her, he felt a sudden burst of emotions within himself. That sudden burst of

emotions opened flood gates of eternal love but only to wash him away. It was unfortunate to

see him drown in that congenial overflow. This was his third failed encounter with her.

On every occasion, in an effort to quell his juggling attributes, he allowed his heart to ramble in

her thoughts. But unable to control his extent of drift, he ended up every time, overdoing her

angelic portrayal. Although every encounter boosted his confidence about her existence, at the

same time he felt disappointed that he wasnt able to capture the real rainbow in front of his

eyes, and was instead chasing its reflection.

How sad to be deceived by the reflections of moments?

The reflections always cheered him up but eventually he would fall down hurting himself.

This time too, when he saw her, he just air-lifted himself in the balloon of her thoughts and

sailed over her topography; glowing face, sparkling eyes, long hair, soft lips and delicate body.

He got so carried away in her wind current that he didnt realize the moment, the thread was

snapped. He came down and fell on his face. The impact shattered the skeleton house of hisarchitectural fancy and he looked at the wreckage with a sorry heart.

After he realized his loss, he sat dejected on the slopes of hill and looked around. At a distance

he saw a stream flowing towards the foot of mountain to meet the river. He was moved by the

joy, he observed, in the mood of each and every droplet rushing down the rock, battering,

fighting, resisting, tossing, twisting, turning, whirling, twiddling, knocking, negotiating with

million obstructions in their path. They never looked dejected even if they were knocked off

sometimes by a heavy objection; instead they regained themselves together and attacked

again. They always reached their destination and only then celebrated their triumph.

Those tiny flocks of droplets shooed away the dejection, which his heart had been carrying all

along. They provided him with that extra reinforcement, required to push his cart of hope, over

the bridge. He promised never to regret her loss. He vowed never to repent her departure.You can never trust those human promises and vows

Agreed but he promised and vowed.

Nothing worth achievable has ever been achieved without passion, persistence and patience.

He and his heart smiled at this optimistic thought and he rolled down the hill. He hopped on the

stones, played with the birds, talked to the wind, caressed the leaves, smelled the fragrance of

flowers, touched the water of the river, imitated tall trees, kissed the water of Lake, hugged the

setting Sun, welcomed the Moon, wondered at the stars, looked at his own image and smiled

again.

It pumped fresh blood into his heart and his mind. He looked young and handsome again. She

had become the illation of all his mentations and actions.

That night he tried to please her in his dream with a brush of his imagination. In his dream, he

plucked aromatic flowers from plants and wore them on his head, around his neck, around his

waist, in his hands, in his legs, in an effort to please her existence. Since he had no way of

seeing himself, he closed his eyes and imagined himself, adorned with flowers, walking

rhythmically around Lake, ensuring soft landing of his legs, humming a tune, in order to please

her assumed presence under white light, maintaining a constant smile on his face and from

time to time, hiding his face with his own hands.


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Shades of Shadows

23

He felt shy, from time to time, as if she was present in the breeze blowing past his face kissing

him and watching him, as if she was present in the white light showering him and soaking him.

He was a changed person; he cheered, smiled, laughed, enjoyed, appreciated and participated

in the joyous celebration of nature. He no longer ignored them, instead blended his

cerebrations with their taste.

Souls of Nature welcomed his transformation. This change in his behavior infused a new life

and further intensified the celebration. It picked up a new velocity and it got bigger and

grander, brighter and heavier.

But with each passing day, this new charge became weaker and weaker and the source became

dimmer and dimmer. Every morning, after that day, he walked through the soul of Garden,

Lake and hills, in hope of meeting her but he never got lucky after that. Although he was

consciously consistent with his timings of visits to the Garden, Lake and hills, still he was tested.

His patience was tested, his persistence was tested and above all his passion was tested.

Everydays disappointment pushed him one step deeper into the swamp of his own fortress.

Swamp of fortress..?

Yes swamp of fortress, which he had built around his heart, and in which he was still living.

Nevertheless, his new relations with Souls of Nature helped him. They prayed for him. They

searched for him. Their belief in deep promises and deep connections helped him.To help him Sun would arrive early if night failed him, Moon would arrive early if morning failed

him, Garden was ready to atomize air in case she comes, trees were ready to call if she passes

by, Lake was ready to cheer if she caresses, sky was ready to roar if she is spotted, clouds were

ready to burst if she is seen, birds were ready to signal if she is pictured and animals were ready

to point if she is heard. But she didnt appear.

She wasnt descried on any sieve. She wasnt discerned on any projection.

It came as a surprise to him but with this his hope sank too.

All this failed attempts, transformed him into an effigy of emotions. It was apparent that

another emotional cloud burst was on its way, if she was not spotted soon.

One fine evening when the nature was at her adolescent, he sat there surrounded by sad souls.

Souls were sad because he was sad, souls were unhappy because he was unhappy. The dancingtrees looked jeering to him, Moons white light looked frightening to him and Lakes water

looked taunting to him. And his own heart looked settling to him.

At that moment his mind critically examined the whole episode again; he quickly turned pages

of his past and asked her, if she was really an illusion, cultivated by his heart..


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Pushpam

24

Are you just the illusion of my life?

Or a thing I desire

I see you with a blue umbrella

not a hint of who you are

I see you with a black umbrella

not a hint of where you from

but you are most beautiful illusion I have had


Or a thing I desire

I find your sculpture attractive

with ardent goblets on top

I find your parting seductive

with romantic silver-lining

I find your shady shoots appealing

when it waves past your goblets

Come free me O! illusionist


Or a thing I desire

Your melodious contour

urges me

Your sweet rose redolence

draws me

Your twilight charm

pulls me

Come visit my heart O! illusionist

Are you just the illusion of my life?Or a thing I desire

Your soft whispers

peps me up

Your secret visits

wakes me up

Your imaginary touch

excites me up

Come embrace my heart O! illusionist

O! pearl of my eye

O! sweetheart of my dream

part the clouds, and shine light upon me


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Shades of Shadows

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Every soul has a heart and a mind; to think, to question, to analyze, to derive and to conclude.

But their coexistence isnt much of a comfort for the soul as both operate on different line of

sentiments. Both articulate a subject in different ways and most of the times contradict each

other. Their vibrational pattern follows different thought processes, mostly cutting across each

other.

While a mind always trusts a logically arranged precision, a heart trusts an emotionally

arranged precision. Logical derivation doesnt attract a heart as it likes to be blown away,

carried away, flown away and swept away. While a mind always sticks to the basics of gain and

loss, heart likes to stretch its imagination to the farthest point on illimitable horizon.

The soul of a heart is similar to an infant; curious, eager, keen, puzzled, amazed and baffled. It

toddles with a sweet smile on its gentle face, shakes hands with every passerby, responds to

every wavelength, appreciates the colourful presence of guests and acknowledges the

continuous changing blueprints around itself.

Unlike a mind which entertains music only because of its logical characteristic, a heart treats

every piece of music unbiased, only based on its emotional merit.

A heart smiles, sings, dances, plays, claps, paints, sketches and composes, but never thinks and

talks like a mind.

In a soul, heart and mind dwell at right angle to each other, though coexisting and chording, butalways interfering and influencing each others circle of influence.

His heart got into an altercation with his mind over the issue of her being called an illusion. His

ungratified mind had taken a deep dive into the notion pond and with every passing moment

was settling below marshy layers of doubts. His mind had begun influencing, his vulnerable

heart.

Even with the help of Souls of Nature, his heart found thick illusionary clouds, too thick to

influence, easily. For a moment even I got convinced that she didnt exist but then, when I

looked at his hopeless soul, I wished I was wrong. I prayed for him, I prayed for his soul.

But when my prayers returned unanswered, he surrendered. He convinced his heart eventually

that he was an unlucky soul, and not blessed enough to receive the blessings of sky.


26/26

Pushpam

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shades of shadows- first chapter

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