I look at my left hand. I bring all my fingers tightly together. It looks like an asymmetric, wrongly indented ice sheet now. I look closely at the purple hue on the lower part of my nails. Then, I am intrigued by the folds of the skin and the little whiskers on my fingers. My eyes start following a green vein which starts midway from my hand, takes an unusual turn as it encounters a bone, and then moves straight ahead till it reaches my elbow. I am not able to follow it further. It suddenly hides deep beneath my dark skin just like the green leaves of that solitary green tree which lose color and significance as darkness approaches.
Tired of this exercise, I now part the fingers of both my hands a bit and run them through my hair. I can feel the scratch of my nails on my scalp as I do that. I pull my hair back with great force and consequently break some strands which wrap around frenziedly in my fingers. With disgust, I shirk those slimy strands on the ground. They lie there on the white marble floor, like dead terrestrial snails which died when an obstinate man put his orthodox foot on them. The white marble is their open grave, my gaze being their shroud.
I look closely at this white marble grave. It looks so hard, just like your white heart. I look at these lifeless strands now. They are coal black in color. Then, abruptly taking my relaxed state of mind to a perplexed cliff, I witness these strands leaking color. It appears as if a worker splashes hot liquid tar on a big white canvas, and then slowly the tar starts dripping and spreading. The whiteness of the marble disappears, just like your white heart disappeared from my life. All I can feel is blackness now. All I can see is blackness now. This coal blackness keeps on expanding till I fail to differentiate the wall from the floor. Your white was never that strong. How did you manage to take away all light and leave behind this intense darkness? I shut my eyes in hope to see some orange and some grey. But no, it remains pitch black. I sense myself falling down in a large pit. I shout but can anyone ever hear silent shouts? I extend my hands to hold on to something but I fail. There is nothing and there is no one to guide me. I have fallen down.
I blink and as my upper eyelash meets the lower one, it is suddenly all white. It feels as if I suddenly pulled off the dark robe from my body to reveal the whiteness inside. I never knew Hades’s1 underground is white. It looks more like the world of Zeus2. I find myself on white crystalline glass. The soft skin on my lower legs feels the hard thigh bone as I sit with folded knees on this grass. I wonder why there was no sound of my landing. I am not a feather. Or has your white heart engulfed my speech and sound too? I put my right hand on this white grass. My skin looks dull and diseased. I feel hideous. I want to hide but can a person ever truly hide?
I blink again and there you are, right in front of me. You are like a glass of white wine. I can never have enough of you. The body and the senses will always crave for more. You are so close to me. I’ll be forever breathless to breathe the besotted blitzed breeze you breathe out. This is the ecstasy I want in every wine glass I drink. You are so near to me. I can almost feel my arm’s little hair standing up as I extend my right hand to touch your left shoulder. You are like a fresh green drew drop on white lucid grass. Your eyes are clear and tearless but your gaze is teasing and concupiscent. I have so many questions. But they can wait. They can even wait forever. I want you to say something. But why do you stay still? I am longing to be drenched in your heaven-sent brook of words.
My wish comes true. I can see you slightly parting your lovesome lips to speak to me. There is a black light in your eyes which is as miraculous as you are. I can almost feel that white blush on your beautiful skin as you try to bring forth your serenade of words set up in perfect cadence. But suddenly the beautiful sound of the devil is interrupted by wicked angels. They come up and make a lot of noise. They ruin the crystal clear grass and shatter the moments with their racket. All I can hear now is piercing noise, a noise that is continuously trying to drill into my mind through the sides of my forehead! I try to shout but no voice comes out. I want this to end. I suddenly spot a grey pathway to get out of this mess. I take hold of your hand and try to run away with you. But you jerk off my hand. Your merciless eyes ask me to go alone. I turn away from you with tears in my eyes and run for the pathway. I run. I run. And I run.
I run through that grey weeping pathway. It is dusty. The dust enters my eyes as I run. I rigorously rub the back of my veined right hand on my eyes to clear away the teary dust, dirtying the venose beauty as I do so. I blink endlessly to remove the irritant. After the last blink, I find myself perched on a couch in my room. As the heroine of this lifeless drama, I am loudly lighted by the light tube overhead and dull light lights the rest of the space. I try to figure out my journey with you.
All of a sudden there is a faint knock on the door. I know it is you. It cannot be anybody else. I get up in a maddened excitement and rush for the door. But as I do so, I step on something lying on the floor which I had never noticed before. My heart shatters as I witness the thing I ruined with my evil foot. It was my fragile dream. I feel a glass piece slowly penetrating inside my skin at the base of my right foot. The shattered pieces of my dream have ragged bloodied edges. I leave little red footmarks on the white marble floor as I walk ahead to answer the door.
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1. Hades is believed to be the God of Death in Greek Mythology. He is the Lord of Hell.
2. Zeus is believed to be the ultimate father God in Greek Mythology. He is supposed to live on Mount Olympus which is considered to be the heaven.
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