Thursday, March 3, 2011

Strange Connection

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The evening dragged on and her head hurt. It might have been the pounding beats, or the empty banter of the assembled guests, or just the pretentious laughter all around mingled with the blur of indistinguishable faces... hazy, and covered with a layer of cigarette smoke. Like most parties, this party was no different. At least to her, it was a mere social event that she was obliged to attend.
Seeking some fresh air, she walked through the open French windows into the terrace, which was almost dark except for the light of a lamp which came from the lawn just below. Here at least she was peacefully lost and did not have to participate in meaningless conversations that just added to the throbbing in her temples.
She stood there losing track of time and breathing in the air that carried a faint hint of jasmines. From time to time, a fresh burst of shrill laughter from the party hall would pierce her solitude and shatter her reverie. She would wait for the noise to subside, then lose herself again to the night.
 After a while she became aware of a strange and hauntingly beautiful note that softly penetrated the silence, and floated to her ears from somewhere not very far. Completely and hopelessly enthralled, she listened, almost in a trance. Where were the notes coming from? Who was playing them? She shot a glance over her shoulders towards the French windows but all she got from there was a cacophony of mumbled voices blended with some pounding, which may have been rhythmic beats.
With a shudder, she walked away, as far as she could get from the party, to the furthest corner of the terrace. And as she did so, she must have reached closer and closer to the source of the strange music. The notes flowed through her, stunned her mind, captured her heart, and stirred her soul. She was sure that she was living in another time and someone very special to her was there, just a breath away. She could almost touch him. She knew that if she smiled, he would almost certainly recognize her. They had, after all, been together through many centuries.
And she felt the tears flow down as she wondered whether he was lonely just tonight or whether the loneliness spanned many lifetimes. She wanted to tell him that she still loved him as she always had and always would be but then, he already knew that, right?

Down below, in the deserted lawn, under the Hibiscus tree, the young guitarist played his instrument as if possessed, for he knew that he had touched a strange chord tonight. The music that had been unknown to his mind till then, was flowing with a spontaneity and life of its own. He was on a mission tonight and he could feel her softly treading into the recesses of his mind, walking slowly towards the source of his creativity.

Very deep, in the realms of his being, he knew he had somehow reached the sacred point where all things merge and lose themselves to finally emerge as a new identity.....the only one that matters.


  1. The fine line between prose and poetry is almost blurred in your writing as has been the confines of TIME.....

  2. OOOOooooo I so relate to the man and the lifetime of relation.
    I love it.
    love it.

    sorta made me feel like you already read my blog post.

  3. I do know that music, it soars through my life as well.

  4. Very well said for all the immortal souls my friend.
    You know this would move me, and it did.