3 Black keys
"Will the torment of my skin ever be blown away by he nearing payment that is due?"..
A girl wakes up from a thought that arose at the Mt. Salta lake sitting cross-legged, slightly slouched as if straining the lower back. The rain must have fallen in the morning, the wind was hard. Hard enough to wake up a person from dreamy dialogue in the mind, just like that one food item that wakes you up into savouring the true enjoyment of eating.
She was like Firefly in a dark jungle, a fairy with magic falling flat from wherever she went and carried with herself true human feelings right as they are ought to be. Vindhya; a regular, smile at everything, student of Biology. She studied in the great Oceanic school located in the midst of an Island called Salipin. It is located in the Southern Hemisphere, near the Auron Jungle famous for its Aligator sized Scorpions.. for vindhya it was as if she was swallowed by the sea even though she went inside the water barely. The place had a sort of determination beyond simplicity.
Passing through the grizzled electricity house on her right she held a green holy book in the dominant hand. She lifted her chin to the asphalt running direct towards her eye brows and thought again. "Will the torment of my skin ever be cleared by the deeds of my past years?" ..{sweet flute music played in the background dancing in tremolo on one single note}.
Where Vindhya belonged, people were called 'Islanders'. Having been born by a family that ate and spoke well praised themselves as "Quarter Religious", jokingly. You just couldnt hate that divine Island. Statisticians from the Americas Rated Salipin as being the safest place to live and die. Entering the austere green Island was hard and strict making this fact a sizeable ground why Salipin was so safe for the Islanders.
She Writes " While my friends, companions, classmates, siblings| were worrying about their Virginities, having practical conversations about career and future prospectus, i kept myself occupied by taking duty over two of my grandparents. One a poet at 78 who had taught Shakespeare and Dante in his long great European career and his broodless/thoughtless wife. A smart lady with a carefully placed loud mouth, however she could not remember very well what happened around her.-Alzheimer's. I knew her when she could remember things for a minute and as seasons went by words became concealed , She would feel her own death while discovering her husbands dead body lying by her side, go out to the balcony to sing a fabricless melody and clap her hands back in the room to see him dead for the 1st time, one more time. I saw her talk to an 80 year old 'self' while imagining her flesh to be of a teenager. She would talk to that old entity for hours everyday.... Losing memory didn't only mean mental degradation but loss of muscle memory... She forgot how to chew and swallow... Both my grandparents were in different land, hallucinating day and night. I felt that was important. The things that they said seemed like a flashback of their whole lives were projected on a slate on that dying mind, in their respective death beds-To numb them from the ageing pain. For 7 long years I cleaned crap, changed, helped them to sleep- cared for them constantly. My whole life was STORMED with PURPOSE and the rain always made me happy.
I answered all the questions endlessly, watched them roll into dying leaves. They got sick enough to make you go mad at sight. I was being the most sensible adult at operating such condition. I have already buried 2 bodies all by myself . Had requested my caregivers , the little ones of the people I took care of to let me clean the bodies and with the help of a few local men, lowered the body six feet underground. My emotions got week, countenances became small, lips felt heavy. Facial muscles became like still water And when time demanded me to become an adult, I had already retired from the responsibility of the World."
Vindhya Felt a Sad riff play in tune from the 'Ballad of the Island' and took out the book off solitude. Took out the green ganja and carefully rolled a brown thin joint & lit it up. She fell in love with Ganja the moment the 1st hit ever read her Psychedelic eyes. It mellowed her down, dissolved her anxieties, liberated herself from the conventional norms. The Smoke that she blew out of her silent mouth always spelled a name in the Air, " Atharv". A muse to Vindhya. The mey while she was travelling to the city, learning about the harmful effects of smoky air on the lungs and monkeyed her soul for a little while. They both had an understanding , called themselves "sexually useless" people. Both of them in their private grandiosity decided to dedicate their life to art. Not the traditional learn from your guru, Pseudo human kind of art. Both were inspired by the Rimbaud Mind. Crystal at approach & piercing to the state.
This could be done only by being outside the law where no humans lived.
Vindhya used to take her cycle by the wind to the nearest Cyber Cafe to check her emails. Atharv wrote every saturday and she would think of many Grand replies the night before she visited the place of global mechanics. He used to pour his heart out, writing 15-20 pages of feelings. About his new learnt skill. Sometime it was a skateboard trick and his mastery over Juggling, with prop balls, gardener knives and one time a light human. One phrase of the letter every week would be highlighted, that baffled Vindhyas mind and she would reply in a short story. She had a pattern . Intro with a story of 25-30 pages overflowing with analogies, metaphors and imagery. Followed by a poem and then a few closing lines that told the cold hard truth.
She stopped receiving routine emails from Atharv one summer. Nothing changed in Vindhyas life. She wasnt in love with him or anything. She was a Frozen 19 year old with no expressive emotions. She still smoked her pot in calm at the beautiful beaches of Salipin. She was completely Dwellved in literature. Either read or wrote. Classical music and the near percussive bars were her favourite. Wrote articles on Lizt and the Concertos by Mozart. She never explored the possibility of releasing her work , getting published as a writer. For her, it was more about the flow.
One evening she received an email from the Managing director of Sea Lions Publications.
A Long Email Followed by the
Subject: Inventor Of Atharv.
<< Miss Vindhya,
If it would have been anyone else I wouldn't have dared sent you this notification. No apology could alter what I did and how I manipulated you. However, it was truly lucid in my destiny driven office seat. I was the one that emailed you for all this time. Not 'Atharv'. The person that you met in the City was a Hired model. He told me whatever you spoke, was out of his comprehension. In 2003, you wrote an article in the Salipin Gazette, and it killed me. Everything you wrote changed my sight on writing and since that day I knew that you could change the Modern Literature drastically.
You are whom with I look forward to work with. If you sign with our publication, We shall make you..... "Vindhya Muzzle" world famous.
Hope to see you in person soon, We promise you wont be left unrecognized.
Sunny Garewal
CEO- SEA LION PUBLICATION
Vindhya, her blood shot eyes, calm countenances and a single drop of saltless perspire dripped from her forehead. She left that Email As Read. Gave herself strength. Placed her palms at the table facing the computer, giving herself muscle strength to lift her emotionless body. She walked slowly out of the Cyber cafe to her old archaic cosmic vehicle.
A girl wakes up from a thought that arose at the Mt. Salta lake sitting cross-legged, slightly slouched as if straining the lower back. The rain must have fallen in the morning, the wind was hard. Hard enough to wake up a person from dreamy dialogue in the mind, just like that one food item that wakes you up into savouring the true enjoyment of eating.
She was like Firefly in a dark jungle, a fairy with magic falling flat from wherever she went and carried with herself true human feelings right as they are ought to be. Vindhya; a regular, smile at everything, student of Biology. She studied in the great Oceanic school located in the midst of an Island called Salipin. It is located in the Southern Hemisphere, near the Auron Jungle famous for its Aligator sized Scorpions.. for vindhya it was as if she was swallowed by the sea even though she went inside the water barely. The place had a sort of determination beyond simplicity.
Passing through the grizzled electricity house on her right she held a green holy book in the dominant hand. She lifted her chin to the asphalt running direct towards her eye brows and thought again. "Will the torment of my skin ever be cleared by the deeds of my past years?" ..{sweet flute music played in the background dancing in tremolo on one single note}.
Where Vindhya belonged, people were called 'Islanders'. Having been born by a family that ate and spoke well praised themselves as "Quarter Religious", jokingly. You just couldnt hate that divine Island. Statisticians from the Americas Rated Salipin as being the safest place to live and die. Entering the austere green Island was hard and strict making this fact a sizeable ground why Salipin was so safe for the Islanders.
She Writes " While my friends, companions, classmates, siblings| were worrying about their Virginities, having practical conversations about career and future prospectus, i kept myself occupied by taking duty over two of my grandparents. One a poet at 78 who had taught Shakespeare and Dante in his long great European career and his broodless/thoughtless wife. A smart lady with a carefully placed loud mouth, however she could not remember very well what happened around her.-Alzheimer's. I knew her when she could remember things for a minute and as seasons went by words became concealed , She would feel her own death while discovering her husbands dead body lying by her side, go out to the balcony to sing a fabricless melody and clap her hands back in the room to see him dead for the 1st time, one more time. I saw her talk to an 80 year old 'self' while imagining her flesh to be of a teenager. She would talk to that old entity for hours everyday.... Losing memory didn't only mean mental degradation but loss of muscle memory... She forgot how to chew and swallow... Both my grandparents were in different land, hallucinating day and night. I felt that was important. The things that they said seemed like a flashback of their whole lives were projected on a slate on that dying mind, in their respective death beds-To numb them from the ageing pain. For 7 long years I cleaned crap, changed, helped them to sleep- cared for them constantly. My whole life was STORMED with PURPOSE and the rain always made me happy.
I answered all the questions endlessly, watched them roll into dying leaves. They got sick enough to make you go mad at sight. I was being the most sensible adult at operating such condition. I have already buried 2 bodies all by myself . Had requested my caregivers , the little ones of the people I took care of to let me clean the bodies and with the help of a few local men, lowered the body six feet underground. My emotions got week, countenances became small, lips felt heavy. Facial muscles became like still water And when time demanded me to become an adult, I had already retired from the responsibility of the World."
Vindhya Felt a Sad riff play in tune from the 'Ballad of the Island' and took out the book off solitude. Took out the green ganja and carefully rolled a brown thin joint & lit it up. She fell in love with Ganja the moment the 1st hit ever read her Psychedelic eyes. It mellowed her down, dissolved her anxieties, liberated herself from the conventional norms. The Smoke that she blew out of her silent mouth always spelled a name in the Air, " Atharv". A muse to Vindhya. The mey while she was travelling to the city, learning about the harmful effects of smoky air on the lungs and monkeyed her soul for a little while. They both had an understanding , called themselves "sexually useless" people. Both of them in their private grandiosity decided to dedicate their life to art. Not the traditional learn from your guru, Pseudo human kind of art. Both were inspired by the Rimbaud Mind. Crystal at approach & piercing to the state.
This could be done only by being outside the law where no humans lived.
Vindhya used to take her cycle by the wind to the nearest Cyber Cafe to check her emails. Atharv wrote every saturday and she would think of many Grand replies the night before she visited the place of global mechanics. He used to pour his heart out, writing 15-20 pages of feelings. About his new learnt skill. Sometime it was a skateboard trick and his mastery over Juggling, with prop balls, gardener knives and one time a light human. One phrase of the letter every week would be highlighted, that baffled Vindhyas mind and she would reply in a short story. She had a pattern . Intro with a story of 25-30 pages overflowing with analogies, metaphors and imagery. Followed by a poem and then a few closing lines that told the cold hard truth.
She stopped receiving routine emails from Atharv one summer. Nothing changed in Vindhyas life. She wasnt in love with him or anything. She was a Frozen 19 year old with no expressive emotions. She still smoked her pot in calm at the beautiful beaches of Salipin. She was completely Dwellved in literature. Either read or wrote. Classical music and the near percussive bars were her favourite. Wrote articles on Lizt and the Concertos by Mozart. She never explored the possibility of releasing her work , getting published as a writer. For her, it was more about the flow.
One evening she received an email from the Managing director of Sea Lions Publications.
A Long Email Followed by the
Subject: Inventor Of Atharv.
<< Miss Vindhya,
If it would have been anyone else I wouldn't have dared sent you this notification. No apology could alter what I did and how I manipulated you. However, it was truly lucid in my destiny driven office seat. I was the one that emailed you for all this time. Not 'Atharv'. The person that you met in the City was a Hired model. He told me whatever you spoke, was out of his comprehension. In 2003, you wrote an article in the Salipin Gazette, and it killed me. Everything you wrote changed my sight on writing and since that day I knew that you could change the Modern Literature drastically.
You are whom with I look forward to work with. If you sign with our publication, We shall make you..... "Vindhya Muzzle" world famous.
Hope to see you in person soon, We promise you wont be left unrecognized.
Sunny Garewal
CEO- SEA LION PUBLICATION
Vindhya, her blood shot eyes, calm countenances and a single drop of saltless perspire dripped from her forehead. She left that Email As Read. Gave herself strength. Placed her palms at the table facing the computer, giving herself muscle strength to lift her emotionless body. She walked slowly out of the Cyber cafe to her old archaic cosmic vehicle.
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