Beach

A long drive
Windows down
Or maybe helmets off
Shoes in hands
Sand between toes
A walk
Breeze between the locks
The moon
The night
The quiet
And some solitude
With you.

Undefined minutes in heaven

Run. There’s a small “lake to cross”. Beyond that lake is a mountain. And that mountain is the entrance to heaven. But you’ve got to run. Because there’s lot of explore

But turn back and see. There is a huge wave building up. Time is relative. But see, it’s building up. Storing the energy. It’s higher than a tree. It looks humungous, like a mountain. Rich emerald blue. With white tip of foam. Tiny ripples all over. It’s just never crashing down.

It’s like either time is still or slow.

So she runs. She crossed the “lake”. She reaches the mountains. She keeps running. The twists and turns. The ups and downs. The green and brown. It never seemed to end. She stops to take breath. She sees a small cave ahead. She sees small groove which would have made a big water puddle ahead. She stops in her track. Goosebumps spread around her arms then her chest to inside her heart. “Is that fear?” She wondered.

She decides to run again. But back to the other side. But the wave had crashed down. The time wasn’t slow either. The speed with which it flowed was like a stream flowing, gently. Yet, it gushed away.

She looked for a tree to climb.

She caught one. She climbed. It had comfortable ‘Vs’ to put her leg on and boost herself up. She wanted to climb more, but there were red spiders. A scream was caught in her throat which rang loud in her head. She stopped climbing higher. The water was here. Filling up all the downs, all the groves…all the spaces. But slower. Yet she couldn’t make the dash, because if she got back on the ground, the water was too deep.

The wave was in, but yet wasnt near her. Or the tree she was perched on. Yet, it was there. She had to wait. How long, she couldn’t tell. Time was different here vs on the other side.

She tried to relax. The bark of the tree felt mushy. Soft. Like it had too much water inside it. Or like it had spent too much time inside the water.

She gulped.

My Midnight Story

The lights are out. It is almost pitch dark. The glow in the dark stars on my wall are throwing out their pent up energy from absorbing all the  fluorescent light.

I stare at the star studded wall and pretend that I’m under the starry skies. Skies full of beautiful green stars and green crescent moons. I stare at them waiting for my eyes to droop, and I slip in that beautiful state of sleep. Just when I am on the threshold of the beautiful sleep world, a thought creeps in. My beautiful, brilliant thoughts, that would seem weird to you and the whole world.

It will probably, like right now, start with me dwelling on the latest mistake that I made, and say things like, “I believed I had learned from it and moved on”. And then, out of the blue, I get a brainwave: What if I really were a time lord? I would then travel to that one particular moment, the first moment that would be the starting point of the “mistake journey “- I wouldn’t know then of course. And then think – “How cool it would be if I, the time lord, could go back in time, talk to the then me and stop the whole mistake journey. Go back at that exact moment, have a good look at my startled face and try and have the talk, and stop myself.”

Then I wonder, even after being a time lord and going back in time, “Would the past me listen to my future self? Would I really be able to stop myself from taking the step? Would I know what the past me is thinking at that moment?”

Slowly, another tiny thought creeps in – “Am I obsessed with being a time lord? Am I thinking too much about Doctor Who?!” In between my stomach will want to give its two cent worth of opinion and declare it is hungry with a slow rumble.

Something seems wrong with my eyelids. I am faintly aware of it. It feels heavy and itchy. The green stars and moon seem like they are losing its glow.

Before I know it, its a brand new day! All the late night thoughts are forgotten and buried, just like my dreams. Like it never ever happened.
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