-A window ajar is a prelude in building to the joy of being limitless! That uneasiness of being familiar somehow, sometime, somewhere.......

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Repertoire de vivre

Waiting for my regular chips and cheese burgers, I am writing this on a paper napkin in an outdoor café. Strange, it’s less hectic this evening.
A dull autumn sky slowly pulling a veil of darkness over herself; a silent farewell to light and colour. Scent of dead autumn leaves in the air.
I wet my lips with a sip of steaming coffee. A memory. Of a lingering taste.
As I bring down the cup, I catch a typical coffee cup circle on the tablecloth. Well, almost a circle. It should be termed something, they are so well-known now.
A middle aged English lady in the opposite table. Too much make-up but natural auburn hair. She smiles at me. I return the smile, more earnest than usual. I like auburn.

Salt and vinegar? Familiar voice.
Yes please.

I see the chips before me. Scent of heat, potato and oil. A causeless revolution. Then, the tongue takes over, politely sucking the purpose out of them. Cut.Grind.Chew.Savour.Masticate.Wetted and pushed through by more coffee, waiting to be burnt by acids of the belly. All in silence.

I gaze at the road beside. A silent aging testimonial. Grows steeper and hides into a mystery of a leftish curve.
Two males, well clothed for the impending subzero weather, walking on the pavement.
Something grasps my interest. Something else.
Two figures in front of them.Walking towards the cafe. A small girl, somewhere between six and eight; auburn tresses dangling out of a mauve scarf. Small tiny steps. A divine poetry in motion. A heavy-built man, middle aged. Saying something to her, perhaps a story? Warm tone, heavy accent. Can’t quite make out the words. No reason not to believe they are a daughter and a father. Yes! He is telling a story.
Both look ahead and never at each other. They walk.Telling and told.
Then suddenly, Duuud, she slips and falls, on her belly.
Oblivious, the father strides with his story. A moment is seized into vacancy. An uneducated freeze. The noise of the void in my awed mind.
Life otherwise is the same. The air. The sky. The road. Cars. People. Then the Dad realises her absence just turns back looking for her; she slowly gets up and joins him and he restarts the narration. Nothing. No expedite. No exasperation. No celebration. Not even regret.

Life, naked and virgin.

The mind is grappled in a struggle seeking meaning of the event. Heaven and Hell within the head. An answer no question? Only echoes of nothingness. Embarrassed, the mind turns to the heart for an answer. Heart curves the lips into a smile and conjures an image, a vindication, of the great wave of the ocean, the wave trying to define the accent of the ocean, the wave answering a moon’s prayer. A rise, A subsist and A graceful death. The passionate, sultry, an all knowing laugh of the ocean. A wave that knows the mind of the life.

Lost and found, I smile again, at the lady opposite and take another sip of the coffee, more educated!!
Heart, always is more intelligent than the mind.

19 comments:

Rohit said...

Poetry in motion endeed!

. : A : . said...

Very nice. Thanks for sharing. Have linked you up as well. Hope you don't mind.

Anonymous said...

Fantastically well written, ubermensch. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

kyramas said...

Just poped in to say thanks for looking at my photos.
But your writing is way better than my shooting.
I enjoyed it very much. Especially the use of short sentences. My favorite way of writting too !
I loved the narrative style of yours.
Keep it up !
Cheers

Kyramas
www.kyramarios.gr/diary

SEV said...

nice very nice..
deep.. and yet i could get what you are trying to say.
thanks for dropping by, and i think i will finish the archive...

cheerz
SEV
http://satish-ev.blogspot.com

Sreekesh Menon said...

wonderful post , delightful read!

Anonymous said...

wow!!one of the best ive read online.

josh said...

Uber, you write as the way Wachowskis think. Flake, keep floating.

josh said...

Uber, you write like the way Wachowskis think. Flake, keep floating..

Arunima said...

'heart, always is more intelligent than the mind'

good line.

ilaxi patel said...

A great story teller...wow, you could be a great writer! Are you writing a novel @ http://nanoblogmo.blogspot.com/ - you should!

btw, A biiiig Thanks for linking to m.j.akbar's Blog. I will link to readers' blogs soooon enough!

Ubermensch said...

wow, rohit,:A:,T O , kyramas, satish, sreekesh, hima, june , josh , aru, ilaxi,
thanks Ye all for visting and the comments.All for a mooch write,thanks again for all the appreciation.
Ilaxi,long way still....

Lg said...

A striking touch of imagery - I thoroughly enjoyed every line. My favorite from your piece, "A moment is seized into vacancy. An uneducated freeze. The noise of the void in my awed mind".

Also - thanks for stopping by and commenting. Words that appear uncompelled offer such warm encouragement.

Besto!

aa said...

This is my first visit and already I am held, captivated by your story.

I will surely be back for more.

Swapna Bolleboina said...

Humans are so versatile. We try to reason out everything and find meaning in whatever we come acros.Great observation!!. I can very well relate the way you think.

Ubermensch said...

echo,free spirit, sapna:
thanks for comments.

Ubermensch said...

havok - i liked it too. thanks.

Prat said...

Brilliant narration, a mini movie formed in front of my eyes as you went on, word by word.
Can add your page as a link on my blog?

Ubermensch said...

prat thanks....
as they say its not bthe words its the mind.
no problems with the linking sure go ahead.

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