Nth day

In a night, we fix a meet up the coming day. Next day, we warn each other mysteriously about the untold things that can scare us both, but we know nothing, we just imagine the worst maybe and try to make it on time. In hours we meet up and set up our speed and balance. In minutes we reach Lotus temple, in the hope to checkout the 3pm prayer session that lasts for about 10 minutes. “Timings are changed; see it’s written over there”, says a guy and we’re left to think of everywhere and nowhere to go. In seconds, we‘re soaked in water inside out, with absolutely no transitions to tell dry from wet!

“If this is a nightmare, this part, is the good part of a nightmare”, agree both of us. College, career, degrees, life, happiness- everything’s a nightmare, we suppose but neither do we hope to wake up and find ourselves somewhere totally else nor we try to avoid the nightmare. It is a nightmare for sure. But, in a nightmare, how things can get that delightful and full of special effects, I wonder. It’s something surreal for sure, even if it’s not a dream. Wind, slight dust storm, all variations of rain, colder wind, heavier rain- if it was real, could it be so happening, minute after minute, moment after moment, we wonder.

We get done with an event we were supposed to attend and come back to Lotus temple. Everybody’s either below something or rushing out. We go in. We submit our footwear while people do the opposite. Changed timings of the temple luckily match with our roughly timed steps of a dramatically happening day. We see the prayer and hear the ultimate reverb. Silently. Patiently. The waves that keep colliding right after you slide your wet foot against the floor kind of signify themselves in their own surroundings, encircling the realness of the slightest of events that occur inside the temple. Changing your posture costs a rich sustaining sound. We stay peaceful- the best way we know it. We don’t talk. Its like everything outside is cut off and we’re in a bubble, listening to what’s inside, and nothing else. We speak, to no one. We don’t know what each other of us is connecting to or thinking about. Maybe someone. Maybe no one. Or maybe everyone.

Nothing is exaggerated. Nothing is outlined or encircled. The fact is, everything still exists as nice as it could ever be, even if you don’t look at the facts. The fact is, we go through clean air, dust, water, noise, traffic, peace, talking wind, whistling ears - and we keep on going like the facts and depths don’t matter at all. Everybody has their own doubts. Everyone has their own clarity. More or less, puzzle solving isn’t required all the time maybe; maybe not. Everything else, no matter how rigid, is as fading away as a thin moving cloud, until the day stays overcast and water drops keep glaring our eyes with traffic lights. I decide, being in my full senses, not to wear glasses, as I in no circumstances accept to convince myself to risk my vision of nearer things for a possible clearness of things much farther. I make us on the verge of slipping off our shorter part of a road that I see, forgetting friction, taking friction and torque to a whole new level. We can slip off to stop, harmless, and talk a little more, or just sit around and say nothing, or we can slip off to broken bones or leaking blood, washing away with the same water that ha been washing away our depression, or misery, or the vaguest realization of us being in the middle of a nightmare- our common one. The best thing about the nightmare is that if we weren’t in the nightmare, we wouldn’t have any of the good times at all. Our good times owe a lot to our never ending, witty, wicked and wild nightmare. Tomorrow we’ll wake up and the day after we might forget our heartless struggle to attain a future by mark sheets as people suggest. People are wise. We feel wise too, once in a while. People are fools. We are too. We don’t care. We don't need to. Life's not about visions. Today- we live in today!

It takes a lot more time to feel dry than to feel wet. Sad thing is, you cant enjoy drying up much as much as you can relish getting wet. We don’t talk about how good the day goes. Though we compare the time with the best times of our friends. Perhaps we simply avoid pointing at something directly most of the times. Engaging into anything else right now, is the tiniest of attraction. What else can be compared to a day like this, I wonder. Life is today. Tomorrow, it would turn out to be a nice photograph but today is what can actually make us shiver in cold, in July, on a regular day, in which everything simply happens, one after another.

Nothing is magical. Grey sky isn’t special.
Grey is the prettiest colour. Because gray makes everything magical.

If we don’t see off the day, the day wont see us off. Whose mood is this? Why is the day rapidly too well painted? We don’t care unless we don't stay lucky! We stay lucky until we don't care! ;)