Written learning

Untwinned Juxtapose

There isn't any conclusion, of mine, based on substantial evidence. It is just a carefully thought, sanely momentary and possibly deceptive judgment. For me, it is a process of having two hands full and weighing one against the other; the weighing comprising an evaluation of the good against the bad, or the evolution of the good from the bad or vice-versa. Because I sometimes think of how this process has an impact on my life, be it about a person or a life('s) commodity.

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There is no age that can call itself 'refined' when it comes to solving a dilemma-puzzle or cracking a confusion-code. Age is that point where all the previous age-chapters have already been read. So, most of the times it is just a matter of revisiting a page and flip it only when the current code of confusion is cracked. When it comes to think about a phase that would qualify as crucial for the future, move on to the next chapter; only there we have no clue what the chapter is going to teach us.

Now, at a point, I have this duel to deal with. I have two weights to be weighed; one which is very familiar and that had already been dealt with in the past and two, which undoubtedly seems like one's twin but is an untested situation yet. With a very clear situation-sketch of one, I begin to think and weigh two against one but there is this nagging fear that I might not be able to go through with two. I decided to give it a miss. It was a clear case of that momentary judgment.

Moments hence, I begin to realize that no matter how strikingly similar two things might appear, I hate one and I miss two. Though I stand to fight the falsification of this juxtapose, I still believe that there indeed was something I learnt; something I unearthed from the past to present it to the future.

Now is the time for me to write why and what happened, to finish another chapter in life.

 

question mark

Parched Wish

The dew on the leaf seemed like tears. It was like the night that would bid the twenty-four hour cycle a permanent goodbye. It was only a matter of time before the Sun would shoot its blazing rays down on every dew drop on the Earth. Clean water felt like a salt-less dream. And we were just waiting for the Sun to pass, unarmed and hopeless, dripping down sweat-tears, letting out that heedless cry of welcoming the Sun. Parched throats let out voices of anguish, muttering hopes of spending those last few moments under the shadow of soon-to-fall trees.

That day, it felt like the clock began to count down from twenty-four. My tomorrow ceased to exist. Everybody's tomorrow was a dead dream. With one last wish in my mind, seeking a desperate tear of joy, I set out on a woebegone journey walking my freckled brown bike; its rusted frames begging for a paint-job, its temperature hotter than the Sun itself.

Tired legs with a premonition of the inevitable threatened to bring the body to a collapse. It was then the eye blinked to a darkened shadow of a dying leaf, hanging from a frail branch, its green turned to an irreversible brown. The leaf found itself in a classic web of life's questionable postulate - Can I survive? With its fall, it would deny itself of imbibing that unimaginable small amount of water. But what is survival against all odds when nature has no room for a breath?

That was when my woebegone journey hit a deadened hope. The words in my mind began to remain a question mark. And She was facing the doom, similar to mine and the world, elsewhere. The question mark over survival was long gone.

The leaf dropped. It let itself loose, losing every hope of green. But it still fluttered, as if to stay alive, to challenge that postulate of survival. Thus, giving me hope to take my wish with it and land in her lap conveying my message of existence.

The Sun beat down. And we were beaten with it.