8. The Violin Play

“Hey, Alex. I guess I am sick. It is time to wake up.” I could only feel the febrile decay of my strength. My body was warm to its core, the brittle memories from the weird dream added to the problem. ” I had a weird dream. Fever dream, I suppose..”.

“Good Morning, take an off today, Dr Atlas. You think so much.” she came closer to kiss, the touch of her lips was cold. ” It is bad. You should have a break. Stay at home, I will come early as well.” Her voice was comforting, yet my body felt as if it would melt from the shivers through my skin. I took out the medicine and swallowed it with the last sip of water left in the water bottle.

“Yes, I will text them that I cannot come. Have a good day. Make something delicious. I need some positive energy in my mind.” I smiled at her and kissed her for a brief moment. The moment was not enough, but my body was not normal. I smiled again and closed my eyes, afraid of the dream yet searching for the answer of the Vedas. Wisdom could not reach to me eventually, the dream made no sense.


The endless and immortal space, a dream again. A drop of sweat rolled down my face. Another dream with no wisdom of real context of my life.

It was the space this time, completely empty just a sort of a cluster of beautiful colours in front of me. I was not breathing, not moving, not listening, but I was there. Kept at the moment, waiting for something to wake me up. I placed my vision onto the bright colours in front of me, the cluster looked like a coloured river contained by the moment. I close my eyes, trying to wake myself. I was stuck again, sweating with the vision of a giant super nova. A dead star, ironically my mental status at the very moment; a mind incapable of allowing the wisdom of the experience, process through its core.

I helplessly stare at the blend of colours, a golden glow around the deep red and blue blend of its centre. To the little philosophy in my head, it reminded me for the colour of blood revamped with the blue of the sky. Symbolic of danger, life and peace. I was certainly lost. I kept looking till my mind could perceive an image of a women’s face in the dead star. A beautiful face, red on the inside and the blue slowly converted into the black like the rest of the space. A slow descent of the blue into the darkness. A sudden sound gave me chills, it was music. A violin, a sad-single instrument that seemed to be the void around me. The face had darkened on the edges of the colour. The eyes had the blue, rest everything was red. Red to the essence, I did not even try speaking. Waited for the silly dream to send more cues of my sub-conscious head.

The music slowed down with the image of the women blinking her eyes, the movement again went forth to disturb the darkness. Her lips appeared and slowly the space around me began to detonate with a powerful tone to go along with the violin.

Each word is supposed to uplift your existence from the hell,

Each phrase had to pull your essence to the blue,

But you desired the blood! The wars!

You belonged to the skies, But the hour is rather broken to fly,

The words were dead when the red had coloured the race,

Only a few remain in the isolated verse,

You sought wisdom and here you end,

Dying with the meaning of those words as the ornament,

Just keep your soul, listen till inferno,

Sophia from the Republic has died,

They never read Plato in the dim light,

I only exist in this lost cell of thoughts,

Inside the mind of a sick person, inside the blank pages that were lost.

My body was almost gone out in the darkness, absorbed and devoid of my sense to a greater extent. Her face, the face resembled Alex. Sophia, rather a philosophy from the book I am supposed to read.

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7. The Talking Vedas

The empty living room was a catalyst for my brain. I was working on a book, a story that would redefine the boundaries of religion. Every time I looked at the religious books resting on the table in the bright light from the windows, the voice of my father would resonate in my head.

I wonder what they all say. I do wonder what the authors wanted to tell the world. But what we need to know is that there is no hate, no critic to the foundation of the paths. You must be bored already. Sweet dreams, son.

I was never bored from his takes on life. I wondered the same, I taught the English translation of Mahabharata in the last semester, but nothing really made sense to me. Veda Vyasa, the immortal who cannot tell the world what his story tried to do. It seemed we puzzled up the inscriptions.

Everyday with Alex’s door bell my adventure to find meanings would come to an end.

“Hi there, how was the day?” Taking her bag from her hand followed by the hug was indeed a pleasant pause from the day.

“Lot of work. I can fall asleep any moment now. How was your class? The boy?” she walked into the room, took out the salads from the morning and sat down on the chair.

“I brought you fruits to add into the salad.” I smiled and took fresh berries out of the fridge. “It was really good, he told me things about his journey. Apparently, we have the same favourite poet.”

I joined Alex with the food, kissed her cheek to have a look at her smile. ” I am so tired today, Atlas. Let’s sleep early alright.”

“Yes, sure. Calm down, I will get some time to research as well.”



I placed my hand on my head. The right side of my head, I must have slept in a wrong way, I thought. My eyes took some time to envelop a sight that could only be a dream. I dream in which I was conscious but not in the real world.

Water, everywhere, not to be felt in my arms but everywhere and apparently I was not drowning in the massive ocean. I took the time to assemble my neck to look around and I could only see another man sitting over the ocean with folded legs. His beard was long floating with the waves, his hair as well. A greyish boundary around him isolating him from the empty ocean.

I felt scared and shouted out to the man, ” Hey! Where are we?” I did not even know what to ask the silent creature. He was sitting in peace his eyes were closed, the face was void and expressionless. Wrinkles covered his face, the rest of the body was covered with a white cloth.

Veda Vyasa is always alive in the mind of seekers. After all, that is the purpose of immortality and literature.

“What? Is this you? What do you mean? Where are we? Can you hear me?” I was only afraid of the place, I could not move or think. Not a dream, for sure.

Hello, Atlas. You are falling sick. And believe me, nobody manifests their head to bring out Vyasa from my writings. People like to read and never think what I want to preach, they make the text their own. They take pride in reading and it makes my lesson brittle to its core. It has been Millenniums, the message is lost, why do you seek it? I am Vyasa, you made me come into your head. And believe me, child, you are sick.

“You are telling me, I am in my own head having a conversation with the immortal Veda Vyasa about my next project? Insane.”

Insane, indeed. I tell you, you are sick. Seek help to end the sickness forever. I suffer from the same, believing and deceiving myself to be free to think and act. Immortal? Yes, I am so sick. I am immortal in their heads, you know. The stupid beliefs, they make me suffer.They take the Vedas and curse another being. They read the scriptures and think the Kings are to be worshipped. Inferno. Inferno to my head, once in for all. Now you are driving in the scriptures to the morals. Inferno. Inferno to you too my friend. Let the ocean heal your burns.

The man vanished into the ocean that started to hurt. The pain kept increasing. increasing to another level. I kept screaming, to escape the pain. But there was no way to escape. I kept screaming.

Atlas once hold the heaven, now it is time to bring the hell. For the inferno seeks a purpose in life, my friend. Let the ocean guide. Seek the ocean and stop their lies.

Inferno. Inferno has haunted every child. Inferno. Inferno is the place where love from religion collide.

Incarnation of The Words

 A little dwell on the pen to enumerate an expression,

To let the ghost be aware of the dark,

Or the dark be afraid of my ghost,

To entangle a hopeless vision and adore,

A million feelings that knock my door.

A poet, they say need the cry of the muse,

But will they ever know the secret of the doom?

For every time, I lose myself into the room of words,

I call upon a thousand spirits,

To guide my hands and spell the right song.

Enumerating through my past,

The affair of the ink to last,

To repeat the same sentiment of my greed,

I befoul myself into a clown.

To paint me in the ink and enrol the aura of belief,

A poet, they say need the cry of the muse,

But who am I to lie?

I can only wonder and host a point of view.

A Date With Luna Lovegood

“Waiting for something to happen by the shore of The Great Lake? You must be a Hufflepuff.” It was a female, as the voice suggested; I was nerved and could not fathom the thought of anyone being near the lake at this hour, I turned and found Luna from Ravenclaw. She was there in a blue dress and with her wandering blue eyes, she seemed beautiful under the moonlight reflecting of the water.

“You scared me, I visit this place to meet a friend of mine and yes, Hufflepuff. How come a Ravenclaw wizard is roaming in the night without her books ?” I smiled and played a joke hoping to initiate a conversation, I had heard about Luna from a lot of people, they said she is insane and always lost within her thoughts, her blue dress made her look flawless and to follow my interests, insane is the essence of magic to me.

“I wonder around from books to imaginations, I don’t like being precise to a point, I am here to wonder and find a place to lose myself again.” her voice was a sweet rain of absurd thoughts, no wonder people call her insane. No matter how vague it all sounded, I was falling for her already, It seemed she was herself a magical illusion of the stars.

“You want to walk around the shore? If my friend is here soon, maybe you can meet him. And while we walk, maybe find a place for you to be lost in your imagination?” I had to make the invitation to know her more, Aeonian would wait for me or even catch up somewhere.

“Let’s walk. The lake ? Who are you waiting for over here? I come here to see those beautiful creatures sometimes. Have you even been inside? ” This could barely make sense to me, I flexed my hand to feel my senses, but the cold had slowed  my blood flow and I was numb. All I could do is look at her.

“Inside the lake ? No! Of course not, I love animals but there are some, who are very dangerous inside, I have read about them. My favorite are the Merpeople, I have heard their noise can make one intoxicated into obliviation. It will like listening to a song and then resting all our thoughts into the lake.”

She giggled and came close to me, ” You know who I am right ?”

I drove my numb hands to hold her, I had an urge to hug her at once. I went for it, but could not grab her, she had no body. I was numb to my heart then. She came closer passing through my skin and pressed her lips against mine. “You know who I am right, Sagar?”

The blue dress turned into a lake, the lake was screaming out loud and the taste was still of her lips. I escaped my sight from the scary transition and felt her lips. The colour red flashed onto my imagination and when I opened my eyes, the lake was all red, I close my eyes again and lost the essence of her lips. I could feel a warm sense and my throbbing heart, this must be Aeonian, the phoenix. My friend Aeonian, I could feel his fire burning my illusions away. A phoenix who had saved me even before from the blue of my fears. I opened my eyes and saw Aeonion burning the great ocean and luna mending into his fire wings. I close my eyes, I could not see my friend mending with the cold of a ghost that possessed me in the wild.

I decided not to open my eyes again, till the flash of colours disappear from my senses.

Overtime, I knew where I was. I was laying in my room. I had slept with a blank page resting on my chest and the blue pen by my side, uncovered to its tip. As if the blue ink kissed the empty space of my dreams and gave another idea to write. I was lost into a vision, but my blood took me back to my senses. The blue of the moon made me dream, but the red of the sun had arrived in the sky and I was late for my morning class.

Symphony of Symbols: Linkin Park-Heavy Music Video Interpretation

Music brings arenas of life that cannot be surrounded by the social walls and with a suplement of a music video, the story can renovate or evolve revolutions to the man kind. The development of music has witnessed how the impact of arts can be traced down through the society; every movement in the history associate them-self with an anthem that propagate their agenda, a simple example can be the origin of the Sufi movement and the musical contemporary to the divine belief set.

The contemporary might be the place of peace and an elaborate sense of customs that can make lives fairly productive, but the medical advancement stands weak in front of a plague that is hunting down a major population on the globe.

The mental distress has provoked a sense of agony in the different age groups and lifestyle, escapism has found another avocation of healing with the outspread of this tendency. Linkin Park, a band that screen out symbolism of the contemporary at its best always finds an important issue to rhyme for the world stage.

The latest song, Heavy is captured in a direction frame where a girl is left unrecognized in the video and the man who is associated with it, cant seem to fathom himself and therefore his relationship with the female.

The lyrics produce a strong command over the relationship with metaphor that brings the intensity of the importance. The female brings out a lost entity that general aggression of life dissolves into an invisible power.

The reference can stand on a mystical ground defining the female to represent a soul, or even a simple structure of the lost sense of satisfaction in the modern world. The music video is wrapped under a dull vision, enumerating the amount of confusion and agony that a contemporary man holds against life.

Simple references of the universe and the weight holds significance to bring out the symphony that is set as a target.

The modern escapism theories are integrated with this need to find the lost conscious entity and explore the power of the union that can provoke the sense of satisfaction and understanding in the complex puzzle of the social structure.

Linkin Park- Heavy

 

A Lullaby from the Stars

I will keep this simple, like our stars,

And I will provide you the scope to the horror,

Maybe the scope to our heart,

My constellation shaped up an ocean for me to breathe,

Deep, blue as if the sky was my land,

And the world was left with an infinite depth,

I was left alone to swim, seek and find.

I was blinded by my thoughts that resonated in my mind,

Hoping they will recon an idea in the space,

Hoping that the stars will recover the creation of my faith.

And then, after sixteen years of wondering in the ocean,

The space revolved around as music creating magic,

The magic that shaped you through the notes,

A fairy that could oscillated with me in the empty space,

I remained my blue after your wings,

The wings that could take me to the real sky,

You were the creation that helped me realize,

The vivid sense of magic hidden beneath the eye.

I hope you know my name, I am the marine of the night,

That called out for the day,

The stars, they planned our scars,

The formations that lead to rain,

And when the time comes,

The lullaby shall renovate showering a vision of reality from the opaque,

With the onset of another day,

We will fly away.