Eyes

         Peering within my own tumultuous mind, a simpleton maze, perhaps a child’s play, I find pastures of myriad colours.  The hues that look monotonous and monolithic are coloured in mysterious ways, of love, of hatred, of dismay, of solidarity, of such thoughts that reflect my benevolence and promiscuity in the same tone…

I look back to those tones and think, like others, like inordinate selves around me, those colours reflect something grotesque, but art is grotesque. Yes! I am art, a work of a divine construct but of infinitesimally less abilities. I spurt from the underbelly of a struggle to shine bright, to feel ecstasy, yet crash in the abyss of conventions and contemporaries. I am different; I am the hackneyed difference that you will never perceive. Yes! I am lecherous, I am respectable, I am egoistic and proud, I am forgiving and humble. Can you see the shades? No! You can’t. I can’t find the shades myself.

I stare down my throat and I see something torn, something vitiated and undulated. Not my soul, could be my resolve, could be what you call as loyalty. My heart, as they call it, goes many ways, trapped in an abstruse maelstrom, it remains in flux, falling prey to follies. It beats for you, but it beats when you are not there, it beats when I do not want you, it even beats when you walk away. So is it loyal? I don’t know, I cannot say. I don’t utter the words of love, I don’t sing them well, but my heart beats rhythmically, in strange ways it beats, mostly for you, but yes, it always beats for me. Your eyes do not arouse me, your voice does. Sometimes your eyes do too. But when you touch me, I see reality, my heart beat screams, and it arouses me, always. But my heart beats without you too. I am not loyal, but my heart beats for you a lot.

Last night, when you touched me softly, I could not feel your finger. I felt something press against my skin, like a gale blowing violently into my face. I could not understand that touch. Did I want someone else to touch me? But my heart did beat aloud once. It settled down when I spoke to you, in my thoughts, as always. Do you think it beat for you? All the selves floating around me, in my sky, that blue, blue sky, seem so faceless. Which one are you? I know I am not the same as you touched last night, may be slightly different, may be a bit stronger, a bit more loyal. Yes, that is I, another me residing in your mind, you touched that me last night, but my heart beat when you touched that me. Perhaps, I am that me in your mind, and this me too, who woke up here. But then, my heart beats otherwise too. I choose not the think, those floating eyes in my sky, like two terns flying south, make my heart beat. I call out one by your name, both look back. But both are not you! Did I call out the right name? I do not know what is that named I called out, but they both looked at me, with a smile. Yes! Two pairs of smiling eyes, different, yet they answer to the same name. May be, my heart beats for that name, a name I do not remember, yet I call out whenever I see those eyes flying south. But my heart beats for a voice too, not the voice that touched my last night, yet it replies to me when I call out your name. Who are you, whose name I always call out?

The sun has set in my sky. It is still bright outside, bright enough to find minute thoughts streaming down to the tip of my fingers while I write your name on a dusty, parched mind. I saw another pair of eyes, bright glassy eyes in my sky irradiated by a dusky moon. They did not answer to your name, but kept smiling at me, kept pushing at my systolic heart. They left awhile later, smiling as ever, a heart not beating that hard, but I felt it was not meant to beat, because it would beat only for you, yet those eyes felt warm.

I stared down my throat again; there were remnants of unknown eyes, and echoes of strange voices. My heart is loyal, it beats for vestiges I cannot remember, eyes I cannot see flying south in my blue sky. There is a new tern flying in my sky, it also smiles back when I call out your name. I do not know whose name is that. My heart is pounding today. I will always remember your name, under blue skies, under orange ones, sometimes under starry ones too. There is a new tern flying south, a happy tern. I do not know if the other terns are still happy. Are you happy?