As the silent night presides over the meetings of the stars and watched the moon perform, the heavens lit up in celebration for an evening given away to the request made by one of its fans from the planet down below. The noise of the impatient ocean takes but a while to fade itself out as the guests of the ‘fan’ arrive to greet the night with ‘spirits’ most called for.
Humor takes turns to bless the spoken words of each individual and the laughs adorn the mouths of the rest that hear the one speaking. Jokes fly around and giggles and chuckles transform themselves into mind-numbing laugh riots as a bolt of spirit trickles down the throats of them that were present there. From the closed room to the open balcony. The crowd of few (six or so), moves in and out frequenting the high of the spirits consumed (inside the closed room) and interwoven with an admiration for nature’s ultimate creations (in the balcony). The night still feels no older than it was two hours ago. The ignorant owl and a bat or two fly past not understanding why the good humor is fading and bouts of emotional anguish are taking over. Some moved to tears and others to empathy and all moved from mood ‘happy’ to mood ‘what the fuck, am I here for?’ An arrival much less expected but still well made sends all of the (moods) above in a tizzy. Otherwise an acquaintance of the host, she meets all and normality makes its way back into the wary interiors of the flat. But little did the ‘fan’ of the heavens know that his little dream had been granted and even as he downed another glass, he grew on to the night and the guests.
As a voyeur cloud floats past, it smiles at the couple locked in an unbreakable bond of facial expressions. The heat of two bodies coming closer, raise the temperature of their thoughts and feelings. The first sensation of a tender peck on the mouth and the desire to feel it again takes over. The desire manifests itself in actions now no more governed by the conscious mind. The spirits or the desire itself, one may blame it on either, but the fact remains, that what followed was unprecedented. The fingers on the sides of the waist crept behind the body as the arms took their place. They gently smiled as the noses rubbed and the breath of one intoxicated that of the other. The lips were sealed, mutually, but once again and no room was left for questioning this numbness. The time flew past and yet stood still as the embrace loosened for a while, only to be a little tighter the next time around. The fluid still flowed, the smoke still continued to blur the images of the mind and reality itself was no less of an illusion.
The night stretched like a tired housewife who has just about finished her chores and is craving to lie down and yawn as she delves into the deepest slumber. The moon, sets in the sky after wishing a magnificent good night to the two who lay on the bed and even as they watched it cross behind the great coconut palm, they thanked the stars for being around, while they held each other. The world could possibly come to an end but the two lay in no regret even if it did. The sense of living was complete. The pride in dying would be a bonus but the musing soon faded out as the day faded in. The reality of the world beckoned them to rise, and follow the day as it progressed. The only hope one had was not to let this night be just a page in the enormous history of eventful logs. One hoped in hell as one would soon find out, it was a night only to be written and forgotten about… forever.
A dream is not to be lived; the beauty of a dream lies in the fact that it is not reality. For the one time that it did change forms, it now remains as a memory of the dream, which is even more beautiful.
Humor takes turns to bless the spoken words of each individual and the laughs adorn the mouths of the rest that hear the one speaking. Jokes fly around and giggles and chuckles transform themselves into mind-numbing laugh riots as a bolt of spirit trickles down the throats of them that were present there. From the closed room to the open balcony. The crowd of few (six or so), moves in and out frequenting the high of the spirits consumed (inside the closed room) and interwoven with an admiration for nature’s ultimate creations (in the balcony). The night still feels no older than it was two hours ago. The ignorant owl and a bat or two fly past not understanding why the good humor is fading and bouts of emotional anguish are taking over. Some moved to tears and others to empathy and all moved from mood ‘happy’ to mood ‘what the fuck, am I here for?’ An arrival much less expected but still well made sends all of the (moods) above in a tizzy. Otherwise an acquaintance of the host, she meets all and normality makes its way back into the wary interiors of the flat. But little did the ‘fan’ of the heavens know that his little dream had been granted and even as he downed another glass, he grew on to the night and the guests.
As a voyeur cloud floats past, it smiles at the couple locked in an unbreakable bond of facial expressions. The heat of two bodies coming closer, raise the temperature of their thoughts and feelings. The first sensation of a tender peck on the mouth and the desire to feel it again takes over. The desire manifests itself in actions now no more governed by the conscious mind. The spirits or the desire itself, one may blame it on either, but the fact remains, that what followed was unprecedented. The fingers on the sides of the waist crept behind the body as the arms took their place. They gently smiled as the noses rubbed and the breath of one intoxicated that of the other. The lips were sealed, mutually, but once again and no room was left for questioning this numbness. The time flew past and yet stood still as the embrace loosened for a while, only to be a little tighter the next time around. The fluid still flowed, the smoke still continued to blur the images of the mind and reality itself was no less of an illusion.
The night stretched like a tired housewife who has just about finished her chores and is craving to lie down and yawn as she delves into the deepest slumber. The moon, sets in the sky after wishing a magnificent good night to the two who lay on the bed and even as they watched it cross behind the great coconut palm, they thanked the stars for being around, while they held each other. The world could possibly come to an end but the two lay in no regret even if it did. The sense of living was complete. The pride in dying would be a bonus but the musing soon faded out as the day faded in. The reality of the world beckoned them to rise, and follow the day as it progressed. The only hope one had was not to let this night be just a page in the enormous history of eventful logs. One hoped in hell as one would soon find out, it was a night only to be written and forgotten about… forever.
A dream is not to be lived; the beauty of a dream lies in the fact that it is not reality. For the one time that it did change forms, it now remains as a memory of the dream, which is even more beautiful.
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