Do you want to build?

“Tell me if you’re game”

His voice was serious , a husky tone mixed with absolute authority. He wasn’t a large man yet his presence was noticed , almost everywhere. He had the air of finality around his movements that miraculously materialized when he spoke. Especially at me.

“Yes , i am. I wanna play it hard.” I grinned , almost in agony. I wanted to make him less serious but not so funny.

“Then you will have to be near the land at 8.30 tomorrow.” He left. Without another word. As if my presence was not noticed , my reply meaningless. He knew i would be there ,if not for the deal , at least to see him.

“These Real Estate agents are just greedy and this one’s no better.” said my friend offering her opinion when it was least wanted. I was home but my thoughts were still with him. Rippling across each other , the thought to seduce was loud. I dismissed it more faster than it occurred. I wanted the game to be his. I wanted to be madly possesed.

The next morning i was there an hour early just to meet him or see him work. He was no where to be seen.

He arrived exactly at 8.30 , not a moment early. Punctual. Displinced. But definitely Sexy.

“This way , ma’am ” he said escorting me to the farmhouse.

There was some work that was stopped , a giant machine blocking my view of the garden like area behind. He paused for a minute looked scrupulously at the work stopped , as if making a mental note of the reason or the consequences.

We took an alternative route to the farmhouse and i was all the while admiring the beauty , both of the nature and him being a part of it.

*****

The farmhouse was large , i liked it. But even with the spectacular view of nature , the breathtaking furnitures , the air of freedom and beautiful hallway i didn’t want it. My eyes were fixed on a secluded spot at the farthest corner adjacent to the house.

There was no house just a small piece of land surrounded by smaller trees , it was so ordinary that it had the air of an extraordinary feel to it.

I was transfixed on it for a long time and then i noticed him staring at me. What i saw in his eyes was joy beyond explanation ,  a feeling beyond reach. His eyes were transfixed on me.

“I want to see that place.”  I told it in a whisper and as if nodding at me he took me there.

*****

“What is the rate for this place?”

“This ma’am is not for sale.” I could sense a faint glimmer of hesitation in his voice.

“But , i want this and only this.”

“I am afraid that’s not negotiable.”

I looked at him. I couldn’t understand why he was taking this personal.

“I want to talk to the owner.”

“I am afraid you are.” he said as if letting out a burden.

And in that moment it was all clear to me. The synchronicity of perfection . I knew what the land meant to him. We had seen such a beautiful place that we both wanted it badly.

*****

I paused. I could see my whole life in front of me that instant.

Tears rolled my eyes as i understood the beauty of fate.

“If you can’t sell it , share it with me.”

He smiled. A large smile that showed he had understood it all.

“I always wanted to meet the right person before i built something here and now it looks like destiny has willed it.”

I smiled. I smiled at him and the clarity of his explanation.

“Do you want to build it?” he whispered with the promise of love found.

“Tell me if you’re game.”

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A Life

Where hath thou vanished?

Drifting among the waves of callousness

Hiding behind the darkness of fear

Will you help us find your twin brother?

 

Oh Guilt! Eating mankind everyday

Plotting on the pyre of consciousness

Burning it bare , naked

Till the very last flame vanishes.

 

And then flooding the heart,

With cascades of memories

Bringing tears , every drop

More intense than the last.

 

Dark storm rising , rippling guilt

Tearing away shards of mistakes into one

Saving the consciousness

In a dire act of faith.

 

Oh! Mistake , why does thee torment?

Hiding crookedly in thoughts

Luring for a certain time

And then strike with your brother Guilt

 

You both have done enough damage

Wiping entire Kingdoms,

Threatening an entire civilization

Destroying love even in the time of cholera.

 

Light amidst the dark of darkness

Hope! Thee land among , light as a feather

Giving a strange feeling , 

A fleeting grace.

 

Lightning! Flood! Rampage!

All things being born new

The world looks different with love.

The Nature , Our mother , teaching us to love.

 

And then we learn to love

Mistakes doesn’t matter ,

Only the need to be felt alive , to love

Sweeping our very instincts.

 

Choose now! Mistake,guilt or love,hope?

The choice , the deepest desires not denied

Love? Love in mistakes done or mistakes in choosing love?

Hope? Hope in guilt being gone or guilt in hope staying?

 

Our life , orchestrated by Nature

A path , a faith renewed.

The ability to love , The rightness

Eclipsed every mistake made along the way.

 

 

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My Thanksgiving

“I was never born a Christian Father, but i am one in heart , Bless me” whispered Shisha with tears streaming down his cheeks.

It was only five days since he had arrived to New Jersey leaving everything behind in India. That everything included all the wonderful memories of being loved and cared by family. He had lost them all to an accident. Everyone except himself. Was it his will he survived or was it just because of pure luck he never knew. But he knew it was better if he had died with them. Thirty of them killed in the Landslide and he alive only because he got down in the previous stop to meet his friend and told them he would join them the next day.

The memories haunted him every single moment from then on ,he knew he would never live there. Packing his bag he had left to New Jersey with no one there he knew. He only had some money left to eat for a few months and then? He didn’t know.

He had been introduced to Christ by his Uncle when he was still a kid and had  fallen in love with him. He always knew that if there was someone looking after him it would be Christ.

He read the bible at night when his family was asleep, he felt baptised by his own tears when he read of how Christ died.

He bought a small silver Cross in the market with the little money he had saved. He wore it when he slept.

He believed and loved Christ.

As he stood in this Church he couldn’t complain. He just couldn’t complain that he lived. Gratitude overcame all his guilt as he saw a candle being lighted. Gratitude for living, for loving Christ.

He whispered a silent Thanks to all the people who had loved him , to all people who believed in him. A silent Thanks for the water he drank, for the air he breathed and the place he stood. He surrendered his soul to Christ as he stood there.  He never asked for direction in his life , he knew Christ would point it to him.

A silent Thanks to him.

It wasn’t how he imagined a Thanksgiving could be, but for him standing there, he felt alive.

As he turned to leave he saw an old lady observing him from a corner, he smiled. He was about to call a taxi outside when someone caught his arm.

He turned to see the old lady standing there, smiling at him.

” You seem lost child”

“Yes , i ..i” stammered Shisha as he didn’t know what to tell.

” I saw you from the moment you entered the Cathedral , you have a sorrow surrounding you,  yet you seem to have surrendered yourself to him”

” I do have a sorrow inside of me but i know he will heal it”

She smiled. The smile spoke a million words she didn’t say. “Well i do know how you must have felt , for he healed me a long time in this very place. I have never looked back since then.”

He smiled. A million words seemed to have mixed with his smile as he looked above in hope and Gratitude.

“Where do you stay?” she asked in a curious manner.

“An apartment nearby.”

” Well, how about you come to my home for Thanksgiving. It’s just around the corner. My whole family is going to be home for the holidays.”

“I would love to..but” the word family had evoked the sorrow in him but he felt a small ray of hope cross over his face as he felt touched by her love.

“You will come , dear . By the way i am Mary” she offered her hand .

” I am Shisha” he whispered as he shook hers. He noticed the wrinkles surrounding her’s. Years of pain and hard work.

— ^^–^^– ^^–^^–^^–

It’s been five years since that day. I had gone to her home for Thanksgiving and had gone every year from then on. I  found a new family and i am a part of it now. I fell in love with her daughter Christie and married her a year later in the same Church i had met Christ and her mother.

I have found a purpose in life.

I  will contest for the Governor position next year.

And i always Thank Christ and my old lady.  From that day forward, every time I drove past that street corner, I thought of her.

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Written for Speakeasy #137

Although the story is fiction i do echo Shisha’s love for Christ. And i would love to attend a Thanksgiving someday.

How it happened

In response to Speakeasy #136

William Blake was an English poet and artist, who happened to be born in November. His painting, The Night of Enitharmon’s Joy, is considered to be one of his most brilliant works. You can find the details of the challenge here.

William_Blake

The smell of smoke lingered in the air.  Only for a while , but long enough to make the young man come back into this world. For a moment he was lost in the present and slowly he came to understand his surroundings, where he was. He was at his favourite inn and he remembered sitting at the corner a while back.

“The while back must have been five hours back” chuckled he to himself.

No one would disturb him at his thinking place , The Landlady would take care of that.

As he got up to stretch himself he was hit by the cold storm he called “inspiration “. It made his mind hungry, ravaged his thoughts and made his body uneasy. He looked around at the corner of the window , there must have been something that caught his attention , made his thought drift towards there.

She turned back to see. A Lady. He didn’t know her but he knew her beauty there. He had never seen anyone like her before. There was a magic around her soul that affected his. She was a commoner, but the beauty inside he knew, he always knew somehow.

His vision changed, he was in his world. His world he called mythology.

She was there guiding him towards the light. She would be his goddess , come to inspire mankind. He wouldn’t capture her beauty in one form , the magic would be spoilt.

He looked to her , as if understanding his plight she changed , there was now a boy and a girl behind her. He couldn’t see her face but he knew they were beautiful for they were her’s. She waved her left foot and as if by magic his book materialized there. She touched it with so much wisdom.

Wisdom.

The vision changed. Memories flooded , he saw  an owl staring at him in the woods. He looked at  it and suddenly he felt fear.

Fear.

His vision changed. He was in another part of his world.

Something moved in the shadows, a silent growl , a screeching echo. He saw a cat upside down , staring at him and suddenly it flew towards him. He adjusted his eyes and the cat now had the body of a bat . It was coming towards him blood- thirsty.  He ran.

Blood-thirsty.

His vision changed. He was by the river.

He was hungry and he went to eat the thistle instinctively. thistle? He looked around he felt different. He was now an ass. He felt oddly elated. No longer had he to toil hard , and suddenly he came back to his senses. He looked towards the river, there was this blood-thirsty crocodile coming towards him. He had to run , he had to save the ass. But he was the ass.

Thunders clashed.

He was again himself,  standing in front of her. She was smiling at him.

And then the understanding dawned. He was surprised at the clarity of it.

The owl, the bat-cat, the ass, the crocodile.

His foolish wisdom, his fear,his innocence,his blood-thirsty need for knowledge.

Magic.

He had been affected by it in ways he never dreamed of. And all because of her.

She would be his Goddess of Magic. She would be his  Enitharmon.

He started running towards her and then suddenly water. Water everywhere. He was drowning.

“Get up!” he heard the Landlady shouting.

“I have been trying to wake you up from the past hour, it’s already night”

“Night?” he thought.

He was lost in The Night of Enitharmon’s Joy.

He was back on earth. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at the Landlady in front of him. She was standing there holding a bucket ignorant of everything, Ignorant of his world.

And then he knew what he wanted to do, the cold storm “inspiration” hit him again. He wanted to freeze time on a canvas. He wanted to paint his visions.

Nothing, Nothing in the world would stop him from painting Enitharmon.

He ran towards the door, he wanted to paint as quickly as possible. He wanted to capture his vision and freeze it in a canvas for eternity.

As he ran he heard the distant voice of the Landlady ” You have left your paints , Mr.Blake”

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This is just my feeble attempt to capture the magic William Blake must have gone through.