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.

6. Rumi and Numbness

I had visited the library for the first time. I thought, I had found a place to live during the day. I never wanted to return to the refuge camp. I felt alienated with the people, books are comforting. I could just close my eyes and teleport to my place. Feeling the texture of pages and I was in the little remembrance of the past.

The chair felt better, the silence was a delight. The walls were somehow elusive to my situation.I could just close my eyes and teleport to my place. Feeling the texture of pages and I was in the little remembrance of the past.

I could hear the silence, the place where I imagined my mother to read me the lines of the Quran. Such peaceful verses, each word was her presence in the room. With my eyes closed, I could only wait for a strange voice to wake me up. Any word to strike my senses to realise that I was no more home.

But I had found the place to stay, I suppose. Not aware about how long, but I will cherish this moment. Professor Atlas, one of the many unique people here. I am stable in my mind because I talked to him. Every conversation led to a discovery about myself.

I could see him entering the Library, He came and sat on the chair right next to mine.

“This is a great place to be on the campus.” He said it in a low tone.

“Reminds me of my room. Sir, can we visit your place later some day. I suppose I should be in the camp, I am not aware of the consequences of being late. Is it possible to talk here?” I was not sure about things, things were taking place in no sequence. To faith, I had surrendered, but I feared further extension.

It seemed Atlas had a naturally smiling face or something, he rested his books on the desk and look at me. “How? Your mail. You talked about the boat. I had shivers reading it. I know I should not remind you of the terrible scenarios that you went through. But for an eighteen-year-old, you look a lot more content after what you faced.”

I could not help but smile to the question he asked, “There is a poem, written by Rumi, the famous poet. I don’t remember the pain, I suppose I was numb. But once I left my senses.

“There is a poem, written by Rumi, the famous poet. I don’t remember the pain, I suppose I was numb. But once I left my senses… You may think what came to be mind was just some dreams but they made a lot of sense. The poem, I remember…

What is that jug? Our confined body, within it, is the briny water of our senses….This is a jug with five spouts, the five senses: Keep this water pure from every filth, that there may be from this jug a passage to the sea; so that when ou carry it as a gift to the king The king may find it pure, and be its purchaser; After that, its water will become without end, a hundred worlds  will be filled from my jug.

That is all I remember. An old man, reciting this poem in my visions” The smile had left shivers to my senses.

” It goes on… Stop up its spouts, and keep it filled from the jar of Reality: God said, ‘ Close your eyes to vain desire.’ A vision? The subconscious mind is a wonder. Rumi is one of my favourites, This poem is powerful but I wonder if true. It is time for me to leave. You, young man, revive more such verses.” Atlas got up, gave a big smile and left.

Nobody would know how powerful the visions were, I could never explain how real they were. I only hope to know the meaning. I ran my hand on the desk and closed my eyes to visit the scattered head of mine.

 

Un Voyage

From this word, I breathe to lie,

To the world an illusion and to me, myself.

A world that appears to live with your mind,

With each word that you read,

My lie elaborates a reason to live.

Now that we are together,

You and me, lets embrace my visions though your eyes,

I will write about the sunset,

And you cry out for the moon,

I will incarnate a feeling,

And you colour it within.

But, before we leave to this empty page,

You should know that I am here for the play,

I run away from my own desires,

and leave such thoughts to rust in deny,

And do we really need to rhyme our journey ?

And I should warn you again, my friend,

Dante never burned in hell.

It was the man who wanted the travel,

Lost and never to be found again.

If you are willing to come,

Let me tell you, the river often flies with the dead of love.

And now you are my creation, a song,

We can fly like a bird,

Die in another word,

Live like the Bhrama’s call,

Deceive the stars of destiny above.

A poet’s point being a puzzle,

What difference resides between a human and a word,

A word and a belief,

A lie and a truth,

Rather all began and die out lose?

I believe I am a word of my poet,

I will end within the verse of life,

Yes, with a meaning that only he will decide,

A lie, A thought, Just an inspiration to write.

A Dream to Die 

Epigraph :

And if I were dead tonight,

where would be your first cry?

Would it be on the phone?
Or while scrambling a piece of note?

Would it be on your way to home?
Or after I am buried?

Would it be in your dreams?
Or would you drink all that pain,

and not cry a tear?

And if I made through tonight,
where would you want to kiss me

one more time?

Would it on my eyes?
Or would you just blink your eyes?

Would you peck my cheeks?
Or pull them softly?

Would you kiss my lips?
Or mouth a ‘Thank you, God’

on my behalf?

And if I faded away,
would you come to take me away?

Would you make through
the limbo?

Or would you just

bid me a final goodbye?

What will I leave behind? I ask.
And I look back in the past,

and I see nothing good,

but pain and suffering.

• Poem by Omair | Instagram: @thescribbledstories

—————————————————————
My friend, do you know the realm of life ?

The realm holds the universe in the darkest nights,

Is it love or is it death ?

Is it the sky or the inmate jest ?

You are the feather to the realm,

More pleasing then death,

But illusive in strength,

I would cry for the only thing that rotates our life,

The very moment I get to know,

And maybe they don’t even have to tell,

Because my wings will be cut short,

I wont fly anymore, for my feather will morn,

And if it stay, why will I just kiss ?

I will fly with it to the heights in our cliche .

You may not understand my inmate partner,

But we hold a fiction note to write the realm of life,

In that fictional song, I hold a feather to write ,

The story true to the lie,

A lullaby, it will make us sleep in no time,

But when we wake up from the beautiful dream I draw,

We will be no more the same ,

We will be the realm of the game,

We will be with the one who designed the play,

So you know who we are ?

A portal to another star !

Not kiss, but fly to the place far away in our dreams,

Not waiting for death, but expecting it to wake us from our sleep,

To rejoice, my love , rejoice the need.

Link & Credits for Epigraph :https://www.facebook.com/TheScribbledStories/?fref=nf

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.

An Ocean of love 

Million things I say to the world,

But to you only one,

Million things I feel for you,

But for the world, I am numb. 

How do I bring this verse on surface,

A surface where we live far away,

Maybe thats why I swim underneath,

Deep within my feels and needs. 

And often you and me, we both are there,

We swim togther in our hidden air,

We love, we cherish, we dance and care.

But the deep vision is a temporary rain,

And then we wake up in despair..

I say things that are deep within those visions,

But you dont know their essence,

You get tired of my deep illusions,

And on the surface there is a fire,

A fire that burns all our desire,

I wish we could hide in our illusions,

And ignore what the people say on the surface,

Burning every single way to meet our ends,

But we will be in the cool water,

Feeling each other without the world,

But then to breathe, we seek out to the hallow air,

Where you and me, find despair,

We fight, we cry, we lie and care,

We think reality is our naked fear,

But let me tell you one thing my love,

I dont believe in people and the hallow air,

I would rather find solace in our ocean,

And live with you forever there,

The ocean of trust and love,

Where we love , we dance, we fear and care,

Let the fire burn, and let us love.. 

And if we wake up… 

My dear, lets burn togther and never forget,

Our ocean of love and trust. 

This is a rhyme that surfaced from our reality,

Like a huge wave, rather a tsunami,

That will take away the burns,

And freeze the people who talk about us,

It will freeze the flames that burned our nerves,

The tsunami will drown me and take me to the end of our country,

I will wake up in your arms,

Far from dispair and their believes. 

Let me tell you my love, the tsunami is on its way,

Till then, lets be partial to reality,

And smile like a wave that will take away the fire form the space. 

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.