Wednesday, 21 December 2011

A BEAUTIFUL TALE ON THE PARCHMENT OF INSOMNIA

Once upon a time, the Creator needed a hand. After a thought, He conjured a man. He wove around him a weakness for writing, a longing for curing, an eye for the arts and an ear for music and poetry. Within him, He placed a deep, resilient soul. Around him, were simplicity, subtlety and flaw. He then let him out into the world and set him on the path of life. As time went by, the Creator noticed a vast and troubled emptiness within this man. This 'flaw' was taking its toll on the man. There was a need to make an antidote for this flaw lest the man veered off on his path of life. After thoughtful consideration, He decided to make a painting.

So on a designated day, He set out before sunrise to the windward of the heavenly hill side. This place had the most exquisite view in the entire universe. With Him was a priceless canvas, a unique set of brushes and a collection of the rarest of pigments. He found the ideal spot on the hill side, settled on a rostrum and waited. At the first ray of dawn, He struck his first mark on the canvas with his brush. And for twelve painstaking hours, he struck his brush gently and carefully umpteen more times until the last ray of the sun. For with the sunset came his completing stroke. He stood back and looked at the painting. It was ideal, so perfect was it to his eyes, it deserved to be brought to life He thought. This would be the best gift to the ailing man. So the Creator set back to his premises, this time satisfaction welling within him. He was eager to summon the man in the morrow.

The next day, the man found himself in the dark of the heavenly hill side, the creator astute by His side. A little puzzled, the man inquired why he had been brought back to heaven on such short notice. The Creator explained to him that he had a special gift, one that was intended to change his life for the better. Within that moment, the night gave in to dawn. The sun, with all its majesty, cut slowly through the morning chill. In its aura was the silhouette of stunning beauty. So unique was this astounding image that the plethora of God's creation paused momentarily in its recognition. The man's heart bubbled with bliss, as his emptiness faded. In that instant, he found his feet carrying him towards this sight-to-behold, his eager steps gradually transforming into flight. His hands reached out this newly found treasured gift. His speech failed him, but his eyes glowed in awe. She was the most exquisite thing he could never describe. Her gentle eyes, dainty nose, soft smooth skin, stunning smile, perfect curves and her breathtaking ambience amalgamated into pristine beauty. She was flagrantly fragrant. He embraced her warm frame; it was his first ever serendipity.

Having witnessed this magical moment, the creator wished them well, let them back into the world and retired to his premise; a satisfied being. Together, they were united in life. They walk the same path, but in different shoes. The man had never felt as complete before. She laughs at his stupidity; her giggle is magical, more so how she lifts her foot when laughing. He likes their random kisses; her petal soft lips, how they evoke a rush within him. He smiles at her naivety, her deep sense of keenness, her feminine strength and her prowess in culinary. She has a thing for music, often depicted in her graceful gyrations. She is a kindred spirit, one he admires in awe; a fragile heart he will ever hold so close.

She is his patient; contagiously love sick. He is her doctor, somewhat addicted to her contagion. Between them is a sense of uncanny ambivalence, a Utopian reality, joyful hurt, dry tears, a confusing epiphany and most importantly an everlasting moment: sweet and treasured. Emotional alteration is their subtle tuner, and life's turbulence serves as a constant polisher to what they have. The man embraces it all with thanksgiving, as a priceless present, which he strives to set on a pedestal despite his misgivings. And everyday, he sends a silent prayer to the Creator; that in her deepest insecurity, He may so often so softly remind her, that she was specially and specifically made for him, and he will always be there.

2 comments:

  1. Sighhh...I'd read it a hundred times,but still it would touch my heart in a hundred new ways...beautiful;)

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    1. Words from deep within. Glad you love it :-)

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