Loves mountains, sea waves, old buildings, petrichor, sound of night crickets, haiku, kintsukuroi , books, dogs, silences and also cacophonies!
The violin, puppet, and firefly
The Old Man : Both of his wrinkled, veins laden hands helped in thrusting him forward as he tried to get up from his sofa, sending in the ages-old springs in it into action, followed by a twang sound and there he was, looking out to the horizon, where an orangish hue welcomed his tired eyes, as a slight commotion of light entered his dilapidated room, caressed by specks of dust spiraling the borders. His eyes circumnavigated the perimeter, starting from the gramophone, which played a melancholic tune since eternity, that clay puppet dressed as a ballet dancer, that piano, accumulating tons of cosmic dust and his violin perched over. There was this strange tune that kept playing on his mind, that tune which stayed buried, instead, kept buried by him, as it needed both the violin and the piano. That tune that was last played, ten years back! What is all this tomfoolery? Why is his mind playing tricks with him, convincing him to play that tune? This unsurmountable urge drove him mad as he stood his ground, fighting within himself, to prevent his soul from reaching for the violin, as he knew it won’t be possible to stop himself after that. As beads of sweat started to form on his forehead, he gave in! His hands reached for the gramophone, turning it off, and out went to the violin, and slowly picking it up, then tingling the strings, carefully, assuring himself that they are in tune, and after a moment or two, his eyes towards the horizon, now dotted with some migratory birds, waiting for the sun to set and the moon to take its place in the cyclic order of the day, he started to play. The first sounds of the bow touching the strings sent goosebumps all around his body, and as he kept getting engulfed in the melody, he entered a different universe. Their universe. That universe where the violin and the piano played together, happily, ever after. Ever afters are a farce! There’s nothing called Ever afters! It all ends and becomes a part of the cosmos from where it took birth! His half-closed eyes looked towards the piano stool, where she used to sit, and play along, her eyes on him, a smile laced across her face, throughout! How he missed that. How he missed her! His companion for fifty years. His hands trembled for a second, there was this ball of uneasiness spiraling near his throat, his vision blurred by those teardrops, eager to come out, and then he heard something. A sound on the piano. Is that really her? Or is he hallucinating? He didn’t want to know. He really never cared, as his hands, with this sudden energy, found a direction and continued with the tune. His ears seemed to not believe what it heard. The sounds of his violin punctuated, at correct notes, with the piano! It had to be her, it had to her, his heart danced with joy! His focus improved and improved as the tune reached that crescendo, and with a giant thud, he fell to the ground! The violin spiraled away, breaking into a few pieces, as the Kashmiri, dusty mattress sent out a couple of sleeping flies to the air, along with globules of dust, suddenly shocked with this event! The clay puppet kept looking on!
A Child And Her Fir Tree
There was a child. She loved trees. You may ask, why? Well, a reason may be because her parents were nature lovers themselves. They had this huge space in front of their countryside house, blooming with lovely flowers. A little farm overlooked them, where they grew their own vegetables. The boundary of their property overlooked a forest of fir trees, big and small.
The Starry Night
Antariksh's stare moved towards the sky. Bestowed with millions of shining stars, the sky seemed pretty, as if emitting small shining balls of light, in between the darkness. The darkness, which would have had otherwise engulfed the whole sky into a permanent state of nothingness, into some eerie sense of blankness, as if nothing else exists, ever. He noticed a star, twinkling. What was it, he wondered. Why did it twinkle? His six-year-old brain could not decipher the reason behind that. He kept staring into the vastness of the sky, as a gentle layer of breeze caressed his face, making the sweat beads that had formed on his foreheads disappear momentarily.
Adichi kept walking through the corridor, hearing the similar cacophony of students emanating from the classrooms that she crossed. She was sad! And she wanted Miss Atasi to know about it. She peeked into the teacher's room, but could not see her teacher. As she was about to turn around, she saw her coming from the teacher's room. She ran towards her.
What Is The Ship Of Theseus Philosophy?
Theseus, the legendary Greek hero owned a ship, which he kept in a harbour as a museum piece, and as years rolled by, the wooden parts began to rot and had to be replaced. Every time a piece of the ship needed replacing it was replaced with a metal part. This went on for a few years until eventually it was entirely made of metal.