Nov 18, 2018

I have been buying a lot of sugar candies lately- hoarding, in fact. Stacking them in air-tight containers and shelving them. Why? I had a dream, a nightmare actually. (Why a mare? Why not a night’s stallion?) Nevertheless, I cannot disclose the details here, although a few clues would not harm me and satiate your curiosity. It involved an apocalypse, a deep research on the Lincoln Library about foods to be eaten when you are stranded and a discount deal with the local store whose owner was almost rescued from a recession-hit by your’s truly.

Am I delusional? No. I am a visionary. Prepared for the future.

Let’s get back to the story. (I would prefer a little less distraction now!)

So, I was buying the candies, and thinking about how governments were spying on us, hearing our secrets from behind closed doors and monitoring us from the space. Old Tim tells me that they have built a new device called a ‘mobil-phone’. Apparently, these little devices are loaded with brain-spikes which when spoken into, gets into our ears and makes us like dead, walking creatures. I do not own a tee-vee either. I like to keep the rest of my old brain. I need to put it to use, thank you very much.

So, I was buying about these candies, and cursing the crony capitalists and communists alike. I was thanking the shopkeep’ and crossing the street when I saw a little girl, beckoning at me. At first, I looked around. The place was surprisingly empty. Hey, where was that old hag who crossed the street just now with her pomerian? I was not dreaming. And the newspaper kid who never forgot to thank me for my service in the ‘Nam? Just me and the red-headed little girl with braids. She had one bangle dangling from her left arm. I went after her. I crossed the road, and she now seemed to be standing further away. My brain would know if I had been dreaming. I tend to know things like that. But this girl seemed to move further away, like a mirage.

I had not realized where I had been following her. But when I looked around, I was standing on the same spot whence I had first clapped eyes on the little girl. And the girl was in the exact same spot where she was in the first place, and still beckoning at me. I sure had followed her, because I was short of breath. And then, something happened.

She looked at me, hard. As if she was trying to burn the skin between my eyebrows with her stare.( I have heard some people with such abilities, in the eastern countries like India) I stood there, looking back at her, apparently confused. And then, she snapped her fingers and said, in two very clear words-

‘ Whoosh away!’

What a funn…

…ny wor…Holy Mother of God! I was floating. In air. On space. I looked down. Miles. Miles down were the houses, the rivers. The mountains. It was nighttime already. No air blowing at gazillion miles per hour, no noise. I could breathe, though. (It would be ridiculously difficult to note anything otherwise).

There were the mountains, you see. And the rivers. Huge settlements.

Rivers cascading down. I have seen a lot of things in life, mind you. A career in force and sorts. But this was exotic. I was witnessing something pristine from above, above you all. It appeared like molten gold on plains of brown grass; like volcano breaking the earth and charting its course. I must have had my mouth open, for I felt something metal-ish on my tongue. I spit it out. The spit refused to fall down to earth. It remained afloat, like me.

The sun was coming up from the corner of earth. That was from the islands of the Japanese. I see now- the sobriquet. It makes sense. I felt like Copernicus. The moment he had discovered the magic, and revealed it to everyone in the world, ignorant, foolishly, sheepishly, looking. Never bothering to fly. I began to feel a little warm…

I was standing on the crossing again. The girl had vanished. My candies were all gone, except one red lolly I held in my hand.

I stopped buying candies thereafter. I gave away my stack at community gatherings and at Church fairs. The shopkeeper eventually sold out his departmental store to some Francis Grain and started selling Hot-dogs. Tim laughed about when I recounted what happened to me. He is dead now; peace be upon him. I have a grandchild now. For some reason, she looks much like the girl that day who took me to space. Her love for bangles is unparalleled.

I buy candies for kids who play in the park now. I sleep quietly. I think about my next trip to the top sometimes.

Disclaimer: I am not old, or American. I hail from the East. I have no grandchildren, or a penchant for buying candies. I have never dreamt of an apocalypse. I mostly dream about being in the movies I watch during the day. I love my ‘mobil-phone’ and I am sure I have not been spiked into a dead, walking creature. I have never known a person called Tim. And for sure (for I would have remembered), I have never been floating above in space. Most of these absurd thoughts come to me when I am drinking glucose-water.

P.S.: These photos are structures on marble-floors, subject to copyright, of course.

The Lyrictrotter

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