The within and the without

Lights. A lighted room. A lighted stage. A moonlit porch. She is on the porch…walks in. From a distance eyes the door, ajar. Hears music. Someone in the room? Walks cautiously towards the door. Peeps into the lighted room. Sees a lighted podium…and a shadow on the wall…playing. The shadow of the piano is on the wall…a shadow again…a shadow playing with a shadow; creating an illusion. A reality? She starts to dance …starts with a foot…and then another. And then stops. Places another hesitant step. Swirls. Slow. Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster……she dances….swirls…pauses…and swirls. She no longer exists…she is a shadow on the wall….part of the shadowy world. A shadow in the madness of the reality within her. Surrounding her. He peers in trying to understand the reality of the music, he hears the music in the hall…He sees it. He looks at the shadows. Playing. Being played on…and dancing beckoning him…and he is in the twilight… a part of the reality he know he comes from. Besotted with the reality in the shadowy world within the room. The within and the without loses distinction and he walks in.
Music stops. The swirls stop. The magic stops and he stops. Why did he come in?
For the reality? Imagined? Real?Imagined reality?
He turns back. And the only thing that walks away is his silhoute from the room.The shadows watch on… still … an intruder?

Photograph by Atreyee Bhattacharya

Life is beautiful?

Life is beautiful ...I have heard it..have even believed in it.For...A long time. A really long time.Never asked questions(?).Never stopped to ask(?) How many of us do?Things which give me pleasure ..is not be questioned.
I made the attempt to ask questions.It was a mistake?Not sure ..but things certainly dont ssem as beautiful anymore(?)so what was this.A faith in a few intelligently construed assemblage of letters(?).A philosophical questions peeps in and out..and gets pushed(?)to the edge of my existing reality.I have no answers(?).Or have I no questions."Life" is not just a word.Its not just a mush of everything (?).Or is it.Is it a mush of everything achived or is it a mush of desires of ahieving things yet not achieved.In either case,what is so beautiful about it(?)

Begining of an end

...Here I come..setting out to do what I had set out never to do.Amen.