Do you remember? Somehow the background that filled in our favourite tree started singing when we forgot about the pain. We call that tree, Surreal. How he was breathing away the toxic silent despair that we let out to the world. Some leaves would drop down to us, in remains of our misery. We keep still, sometimes look into each other’s eyes. It took a few breaths for me to realize that I was. I was in need. I was in love. I was.
The music played till we gave up to the world. The beautiful kingdom we used to serve in our own ways. That place is like no other, in the middle of a menace but serene to synthesise love without the lows of the violin that I never learnt. No matter how much we loved the place, as soon as we used to leave to greet the rush, we were lost. The moment, I find the bricks smiling at me, and the people disguising themselves to stay away from the shame, I left the page and start to write a claim that makes no sense like this sentence. Yes, this is how my consciousness works when I think about the world, where you are lost laughing beautifully and sustain my self as this pseudo-personality.
You never used to speak a word that would sustain my self in the black spaces of write up. You never told me how you feel about the void we shared to feel our soul once in a bit of the menace. Surreal never used to speak either and at times, when I was not happy with my work, I used to enter the temple of silence with screaming thoughts and that’s when I felt the ambience hold me in peace.
We will leave this place alone, I know. But then there are ways, this universe compels you to smile and say, that it is alright. Listen to me, I would ask, tell me things. And no words would reverberate through surreal as the vibrations never left your beautiful lips.
Now, all of this would add on to my dilemma and leave me with the love I have, a little less lost, but never to be found.
One day, a day known for my arrival on this planet, I got a painting from you. And this is what it is all about. Now listen to what you said to me.
“Black bleeds reality and no reminiscence,
The dark comes from the heart,
That beats but only to feel,
The things I can say,
The red dips underneath the surreal surface,
Below the lies of all my mistakes,
From the secret of the smile,
That hides in the night,
The blue is by the seas of the sky,
Where only dreams survive,
Where you and I die,
Deceiving the lost,
The yellow is in your lost eyes,
When the sun denies,
To feed the flower,
The pink is dwelling in the dark bark,
The flower on the burnt tree,
You call us, destiny,
I barely know,
How I am,
The white is the witness of it all,
The divine that decides,
The structure of all,
I know you dipped the brush in the deepest streams of your consciousness, somehow you reached me. And therefore, I call it destiny.