A tale of light
Poland is a beautiful country. ‘Snow and green and churches’, a drone would comment on taking statistically average photographs. But the streets are beautiful too. And the summer specifically too horny.The tomatoes get redder. The grasses watery and fleshy. A slight brush of the electronic air over the old amphi-theatre makes some of the accumulated brick dust fall from the top dancing wiggling its way out to cheer up the beggar sitting under the green leaved tree with dark chocolaty brown bark. The green a bit strong lights up the eyes almost automatically without a time lag.
The painter runs up and down the ladder coloring the dull ceiling bright. The motorcyclist kicks the thing. The fisherman adjusts his saggy pants to sit. The light falls over the umbrella. The frog jumps from beneath to make the air watery. The sandal makes a gushy sound. The tar melts. The distillery boils. The ocean froths. The red plastic bag flaps. The dog excretes.
And slowly the sleepy molecules get active. It gives the sensation of something very light. The state still wavy. The stomach excavates out some sort of dense-ness piping out pain. The ears get active spilling out toxins accumulated from nowhere. The nose breathes the smell of fermentation. Blue dots in black screen appear. The nerves inside the fore-head pump a fluid whose viscosity seems to increase locally till it solidifies with sharp corners which twist centrifuging itself out. She opened her bleary eyes when the cat, all seven pounds of squirming flesh, climbed onto her belly. Squinting into the sunlight streaming in from the open window, she discovered that she was now the weary possessor of a pounding headache, and at some point, had managed to lose both a tooth and a spouse. Yet again back with physicality. The characteristic mole, on the left arm overlooking the tennis elbow on the rarer side over the patch of some coarse brown color, looked straight and looking richly dark. It was trying to mix with the surrounding like the green bright leaves with the drier red and brownish and a bit curly. Although discreteness was a special part of existence. To test the discreteness she touched her finger over the gummy emptiness a bit hardily. She got response back giving her a tingling sensation which made her mouth watery with saliva.
The cat in the meantime was looking straight keeping a track of all her activities. She was waiting for the right moment to intervene. She was as if trying to be a transducer which converts sadness to anti-sadness if not happiness which once initiated gets forcefully chained to form a huge polymer of bulky happiness which we term blisstomer. It looks polytheny. And like a plastic bag always stretches the arm towards the infinity.
She tried to pick herself up. The swinging action at the pelvic set her middle back portions active. The cat hissed a sound which was phonetically similar to Mmmaaaa…..oooooooo with a tinge of superficiality at the nasal cavities. That hit her ears. The world’s greatest microphone picked up every bit of that amidst the sense of unfocuss-ness that was prevalent in her wherever. She wanted to know where did it prevail so that she could carefully take it out without dispersing it and give off the strongest blow to be destroyed in the light of the burning sun to be converted to light.
The wind took another fleck in a dazzling fluffy light journey. The bus stopped at the bus-stop to carry away the old guy to the sea shore to make him drenched and bright. The tree shrugged off the cousin black birds to give them the training of flight.
She was half seated now. Her feet touched the warm floor and made it watery. The cat changed her position to the oscillating chair. She was as if crying and murmuring, ‘Look into my eyes I have something for you.’ She again laughed mmmeeeaaooooo. Her eyes fixed.
There was an artist who studied strangeness in vision – he called it the theory of afterimage. The transition from airiness to concrete blackness is amazing. Simple and robust. At times the black structures to a river lit blue at regions.
A bee came spiraling around scattering off the sound of electricity. It landed on her face and inducted electricity inside her. The heart pumped. The nose breathed. She rose. The local winds tried to wave her out too. The smell of ripe mangoes tried to excite her. She touched the water bottle light. She opened its cap and drank all of the thing. She burped out some of the remnants that she wanted to throw away spreading her hands to the infinity. She was looking at it physically now. It was easy to physically throw out something than working it out in the brain. She felt the coldness of the smooth water in her belly. It was slowly exciting her. Simple. Actually the sensation of losing her husband did not come but she wanted to get away with the sensation of her being lost away. She wanted to be self-less. That is perhaps the best spiritual theory one could lay down.
The outside world was covering up everything. The train ran. The picker picked a tomato. The conservationist touched the bush she had managed to protect. The hunter shot his arrow. The ice-cream seller sold one of his hand-made beauties. The moon rose an inch up the curvy path. The sun spilled out light. The young school girl sneezed. The gymnast made her hands powdery. The monk closed her eyes atop the mountain to feel the mystery laughing away. The Fata morgana got encountered once again but interpreted differently.
She filled up her bottle once again and drank it at once. She could now feel it getting distributed into the expanse. She concentrated her vision to the innermost. She realized that it was easy and that this thing called unfocusness was a lump of dust around the innermost. She located the spot. She blew it away physically carefully till the last. She closed her eyes to feel the blackness ensembling into two arms extended towards the infinity.
She felt like urinating. She wanted to confirm herself that no dust was left even by the principle of uncertainty. She closed her eyes and dropped off every bit of urine. It made her happy. She realized that her theory of physical removal of untouchables worked. She felt like a scientist. A naturalist. An innovator. She felt as if she was the real and the rest a shield unbreakable un-destroyable and always guiding. The shield was saying her to laugh to get drenched in this dance in this celebration. She was reaching the height of meditation which made her the tiniest black and the surrounding a deep red hue. She was surrounded by fire throughout and the fire called her out to dance. She has seen the dancing of fire and the fire whispered her with the utmost coherence to dance unbreakably fearless getting drenched. She felt a vision that realization of something which we call the infinity can be done in exactness just by being a bit self-less. And the rest would not matter much. The fire calls her to live richly and dance in richness showing away every movement gracefully to the infinity. It made her spill out in ecstatic madness. She felt so hue-ish. She felt so beautiful. So simple. So extra-ordinary. Alive. She waved and waved around extending her hands away to infinity. Laughing.
She dropped down at the floor. The white cat jumped from the oscillating chair across the airiness. It turned away the last moment. She looked at her. She looked at her. They smiled in unison.
Poland is a beautiful country. India is beautiful. Globally Poland and India is beautiful.