A dark wooden room. Two black mahogany chairs, both easy ones, facing each other. A small dark round table in between them. With one decrepit ash tray. One solitary window facing the west. A square window with a broken pane. A thin shaft of light piercing the darkness of the room. But not rudely. An atmosphere of stillness. Of misguided peace.
The warm orange shaft of light. Falling on the floor to reveal the dusty wooden floor. With cracks in it. That creak when stepped on. The dust motes swaying in the light. The only evidence that time isn't standing still.
The smell of smoke and age. And dust and wood.
A man sitting on one of the chairs. A man with half closed eyes, blowing soft smoke rings. And waiting. Or, is he dreading? Or, maybe hoping? But not moving except, except the periodic smoke rings. Distorted smoke rings.
A deathly silence. No, not deathly yet. A silence broken only by the sound of a deep muffled breathing. Only if one listens hard enough. Very hard.
Something stops. A soul passes from the house of silence to the land of silence. But nothing changes. Or everything does. For different people. For him? Nope.
4 comments:
Miracles don't happen everyday. Thats why such blogs don't arrive everyday. Just the rarity makes them live. One of the best blogs I ever read. No, wait, i didn't read this. I breathed it.
Me and Roro were just discussing how you've evolved as a blogger, and maybe as a person as well.
You said,just now, "you cant deny me comments! comments are precious"..
But what do I say, about a blog of this kind? I second Rohitashwa when he says "Miracles don't happen everyday. Thats why such blogs don't arrive everyday. Just the rarity makes them live. One of the best blogs I ever read. No, wait, i didn't read this. I breathed it.."
This was.. not your usual sort of post. What DO i comment? This.. is.. far too superior for things like comments, you know
And did I just now catch a hint of the Arundhuti Roy effect..?
i echo roro...
man, u do have hidden depths! er.. i dont know what else to write, its not something i can express, just feel!
For instance, you might have written,
"One solitary window, stained glass, an imitation of Chagall's work, faces the west, the etched lines in between the glass figures cutting contrasting shades against any light".
What you wrote is pretty amazing, however.
Smoke rings, I wonder what the rings are like, convex, concave, hemispherical, pyramidal, inimical?
A house to silence to a land of silence- that's an extraordinarily beautiful metaphor you invented there.
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