Just Like That...

So it’s that point in my life when I feel scared again. The last time I was scared I began the blog, purged my thoughts and made my blog a mirror to my life, wherein things which impacted my life a great deal got reflected. Perhaps, some melancholic vein in my body has twitched today so much so that I am driven to put my thoughts down in a sheet again (Ms Word doc to be precise). Melancholy, right. What is it? A certain state of being that means different to different people. For some, insufficient grades translate into melancholy, while for some dysfunctional relationships. And for some weird fanatics like me, absolutely nothing leads to melancholy. You know, you just get it out of the blue. And when it strikes, it strikes hard. Some eat a lot more, some eat a lot less, some (with insufficient means) go window-shopping while some (with even more insufficient means) write blogs and kill time. So basically, everybody has his/her own way of expressing melancholy. But what if we neve...

Precariously written, precariously hidden… her words lay beneath the labyrinth of all that was ‘normal’. Coloured in the shades of all that was grey, they never saw the light of the day… Her moves mirrored stealth, her eyes emitted Athenian wealth. She bore in herself a vessel so vast, only infinity could fit the cast. Beware! For ferocious are her ways. She can set the ice ablaze. For her vessel might drown you and her light blind you; her words baffle you and her thoughts scar you…  There she is! Dressed in purple and neon, and colours astounding, lost in a wonderous oblivion, our harmless little literary wildling. Image:  Saint Catherine’s Labyrinth   © Jan L. Richardson