The day when she first opened the letter that the Dreamer sent, she was pretty taken aback! No, no one has the right to know her so well. Warm tears started rolling from her eyes she looked here and there to save herself from such crime. She wasn't supposed to cry anymore. Nothing can affect her, not even the love sick Dreamer.
She read and un-read that frightful letter time and again, trying in vain to find some faults in it. She wanted to be angry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to rebel against the world which rejected her long time back. She is now - The Mortician, for whom the only celebration is DEATH. For awhile, she returned to the world of flesh and blood, where love reigns, happiness exist, there is joy and sorrow, there is leave-taking, there is sweet nothings. She lived the years which she every day wanted to relive. Every night she dies and become a bit more of what she has become. The Mortician only had one companion, the stupid Dreamer. Woof !! and he has been exiled to a hopeless land.
Maya calls, asks her to take care of herself though they both don't know the meaning of 'taking care' ! After few careless gab, they bid each other good-bye. Maya puts balm on her deep wounds but like every other day, the contusions come back, like the monster in the hell - feasting on a wounded creature with sheer joy. She rolls another joint, takes the first puff and fumes with anger. She wanted to be happy, once upon a time, though she knows the 3 of them can never be happy like happiness could be !
She talks to the man with ' hope tattoo' she fights, she screams, she bleeds once more and he remains calm. He doesn't know what her pain is ! She doesn't know how to talk about it. The monkey starts jumping and the Mortician looks for the Dreamer like a maniac. The society disowned her, the Illusionist dismayed her, the colors red, blue and pink made her blind.
After the 'trip' she comes back to her senses, the mobile blinks and she reads the text. It's the Dreamer saying, " Rest are fine. Just.Fine".
She calls the Moon man and smiles, he finds her insane, disgusting and dour. She laughs at herself and recalls, what once the Dreamer sent.
"Rest are fine. If only. They were fine."
She read and un-read that frightful letter time and again, trying in vain to find some faults in it. She wanted to be angry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to rebel against the world which rejected her long time back. She is now - The Mortician, for whom the only celebration is DEATH. For awhile, she returned to the world of flesh and blood, where love reigns, happiness exist, there is joy and sorrow, there is leave-taking, there is sweet nothings. She lived the years which she every day wanted to relive. Every night she dies and become a bit more of what she has become. The Mortician only had one companion, the stupid Dreamer. Woof !! and he has been exiled to a hopeless land.
Maya calls, asks her to take care of herself though they both don't know the meaning of 'taking care' ! After few careless gab, they bid each other good-bye. Maya puts balm on her deep wounds but like every other day, the contusions come back, like the monster in the hell - feasting on a wounded creature with sheer joy. She rolls another joint, takes the first puff and fumes with anger. She wanted to be happy, once upon a time, though she knows the 3 of them can never be happy like happiness could be !
She talks to the man with ' hope tattoo' she fights, she screams, she bleeds once more and he remains calm. He doesn't know what her pain is ! She doesn't know how to talk about it. The monkey starts jumping and the Mortician looks for the Dreamer like a maniac. The society disowned her, the Illusionist dismayed her, the colors red, blue and pink made her blind.
After the 'trip' she comes back to her senses, the mobile blinks and she reads the text. It's the Dreamer saying, " Rest are fine. Just.Fine".
She calls the Moon man and smiles, he finds her insane, disgusting and dour. She laughs at herself and recalls, what once the Dreamer sent.
 | ||
| "Two brunt neon night skies of the two far away cities…. The distance, the void between them is filled with songs; the notes float around in sepia undertones as they go back to the past again…." |
