” Triumph of Good over Devil shall rule for the unbounded decades to come “
Taking a brief leap from the usual catalog to walking through the volumes of an admirable journey is a gratification to be a part of but on a sad note, less do some know that fortunate are those who get to taste all the flavours.
It’s never about a desired scene, a well organised series or the hour hand taking hold; It simply creates its very own section wherever and whenever.
How authentic and adequate It shall sound If I ask you to imagine what kind of a satisfying display a set of flashy and florid cushions give away to the accustomed ambience to your house? Or how about a rough and dingy path welcomed with lilies and orchids? Doesn’t it convey a better version of high spirit, delight and solace in you? Soon enough you shall find yourself in the square of my conclusion…
Second thoughts bear no scope in its dictionary of myth and artistry. A book that embraces volumes of tales and unending phrases; characters bearing souls of faith and trust yet no specified criterion to fit in one of its pages.
It isn’t just a street of squashy petals and creamy walls;
The feet might get blisters,
The toes might drape itself with scars of deadly thorns,
The blush of the petals might change into blood red
And even the clouds might not respond to your thirst.
But once you realise you know ins and outs of how to wend one’s way entirely till the end,
Once you know the answers to the questions that haunts you, then you’re almost there.
What is love to you? Is it just as similar as the way you love to roll your fingers over the strings that creates your favourite tunes? Or would you say it is just like the unbending bond between you and your love for your art of dance may be? Or is just like the way you love your plate of favoured cupcakes? You might be having something beyond this to conclude as well, but I repeat, What is love to you? A painted canvas looks even more tempting than an empty one; well, but have you ever made it an effort to look into the undefined relationship between an empty canvas and the love I’m putting a question on ? An empty canvas on point reveals what love rightly means, without any use of out of the mind words or phrases…
Just like one of the empty canvas that craves for the gentle strokes of the brushes to drape itself with colours of life, frolic, colours of amour and hope
Regardless of the texture of the colour, the fibre of the canvas, the whiskers of the brush, It simply welcomes its heart out to every splash to give it a bright touch
It openly and truly demonstrates, that just as the way a blend of colors can compose a blaze of art, on a similar notation, the combine of two different worlds, two different persons in like manner compose the art of alliance. Both hold distinctive brushes in their hands and slowly when they splash it on the white board, there arises a new story to depict.
It is definite to fade, but the gesture of fading, the extent of dullness is entirely on your finger tips. Even if it fades yet it blooms, then honey, this is where you realise that what I’m indicating to is special, is eternal and you exactly know that you want it bad and you can’t allow yourself to lose it. Residing on the faded side or coming up with a brighter version is your choice of idealizing your canvas. May be, the brighter side might secretly reveal the alight sketch of yours? Won’t you love it?
All this while I believe you’ve been trying to connect the dots ; A treasured journey, we all have somehow or some way, this way or that way, have been a part of. Even if the mind constantly denies, the heart shall put forth the gospel truth, a secret wrapped with unuttered confession stories in one of the adored corners in ourselves. The corner whose owner is solely you and you do not prefer to let anyone else in as the memoirs, the scenic beauty, the fictional moments wrapped in, deserves dignity and protection. It doesn’t really matter if it survives on the same page or not, because even if it doesn’t exist any longer, it leaves such marks of remembrance, that is certainly severe to just let go of. Believe me or not, I know you hold a similar secret as well and I shall be charmed to know that you accept it wholeheartedly, keeping aside the immortal rivalry and two ways of the heart and mind for a while. No grudges, no scratch marks, no harsh titles just a flash of no wonder how many hours…
This era has been getting a load of the distance between love and hatred getting briefer with every passing day;
Where beginnings are mild and endings are twilight.
It is at that peak of logics and theories where hearts have begun finding peace in allowing their ears to mournful tunes
The strings of the guitar no longer responds to the creations of the inner voice
The lavish lenses seem to have set for a clash or contest of capturing the time
Freezing the particular periods and trying to hold every second and living in it is entirely an art. But since the flashes are always in a hurry, thus memories have been replaced with moments and compliments have renewed with captions and instant quotes. Beloveds are falling out of track for they cannot afford to spare minutes in penning down their heart out; thereby, having a pocket of package with built brainwork that unknowingly holds a temporary age. We certainly are not willing for this isn’t it? Then how come even we couldn’t stop ourselves from being one of its preys?
Hey open your eyes, get your vision widened, look out for yourself. It isn’t any theory, It isn’t any reasoning, It isn’t any practical experiment that shall bear you scores. It isn’t any calculative series guiding you steps to lead, It is a part of you. A part of you who needs to breathe who needs to live as well, who wants you to reach out to what it’s trying to convey. Can’t you hear it?
It is that part of you that wants you to recognise the trapped side of yours that needs an open door to walk out and discover yourself. It is not always about loving yourself it is not always about creating a separate place for yourself. Don’t you agree with me that sharing the best of you, sharing the wholehearted love you have flowing in your nerves, flourishes you as a whole? Yeah?
A hundred beginnings may have a hundred different angles isn’t so? Builds a shape over an unexpected conversation or unlikely over a fight or connecting through common circle or ending up crossing by each other in the most awkward periods no? You are expected to carry forward the way you feel like either on a casual note or on an ever and ever edition.
On a slow pace, you start learning connecting the dots and some way you even carry off well. The dictionary neither holds extentions nor limitations, It simply guides you the way you wish to be guided. You see you could only add the prominent filters in your snapshots and add a tablespoon of perfection to it to make it look presentable but on an unfortunate note, such filters haven’t been introduced or discovered yet rather, by any artist to make your tales add spotlight to highlight. What do you want to lay your eyes on?
Who are you? The ones who effortlessly try breaking the ice in the original picture itself or the ones experimenting with uncounted filters just to add sprinkles of spark as if just to wave around in a museum – smiles with no reasons, no depth.
………………………….
Shrestha .S. Purkayastha
Because its never about a perfect match its about
P E T R I C H O R 
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