To the moon and back
It was an old pier. Abandoned almost. But protected. Oh by abandoned I meant left alone except in wishes. So maybe that's the wrong word there... But a lonely pier it was.
Footfalls were but in the memory. The only sounds it now heard were the faint sounds from scattered beach cafes, the relentless waves that crashed around it, the sophisticated cry of urban seagulls and the distant cough of the caretaker.
So that's where we went. Without knowing it.
A pack o cigarettes always come in handy- dad was as convinced of it as... what's it with me today? Am fumbling for words like looking for lost stitches in sweaters. Hmmm...
So they both sat down and smoked halos that went beyond the hover around the head.
The gatekeeper had long forgotten how to say anything but 'Shoo...go away' and 'Not allowed'. The urchins didn't deserve even that- his scowls n the stones that he almost hurled were enough.
It was a moonlight night. Dark and dewey and faintly ghostly. That's what my mind of few years felt, faintly shivering.
Dad had a way with people I realized yet again When the caretaker searched upon his person for the key that wasn't used.
I hoped the gate wont creak. I don't remember if it did.
10 minutes, the caretaker said.
Waving to his companion of silence, dad nodded.
It was a road for robbers and highwaymen. The wood that shone a purple glow. I could see the blue waves through the cracks. The wind that blew the curls in all directions but forward and ahead of what you left behind.
And at the end of the pier was the moon. This was the way to get to the moon I was convinced. A giant teardrop of a moon, just formed.
I was sure that I could touch it at the end of the pier.
It was a yellow cheese moon. A Bollywood moon. A dream moon. A cheap theatre stage moon. It was a moon made of lover's imagination. It was a storybook moon.
The moon grew with each step towards it.
When we reached the end of the pier, the moon just shuffled a little back.
Unreachable as always. Temptation, just beyond easy reach.
Do you think a boat would get us there?
I like answers that come after a pause.
We could try.
Do you have a boat to the moon?
Not that I have heard.
I always was creative.
Maybe we can ride people to the moon for a fare.
I always was secretive.
Let it just be our secret, the way to the moon.
Footfalls were but in the memory. The only sounds it now heard were the faint sounds from scattered beach cafes, the relentless waves that crashed around it, the sophisticated cry of urban seagulls and the distant cough of the caretaker.
So that's where we went. Without knowing it.
A pack o cigarettes always come in handy- dad was as convinced of it as... what's it with me today? Am fumbling for words like looking for lost stitches in sweaters. Hmmm...
So they both sat down and smoked halos that went beyond the hover around the head.
The gatekeeper had long forgotten how to say anything but 'Shoo...go away' and 'Not allowed'. The urchins didn't deserve even that- his scowls n the stones that he almost hurled were enough.
It was a moonlight night. Dark and dewey and faintly ghostly. That's what my mind of few years felt, faintly shivering.
Dad had a way with people I realized yet again When the caretaker searched upon his person for the key that wasn't used.
I hoped the gate wont creak. I don't remember if it did.
10 minutes, the caretaker said.
Waving to his companion of silence, dad nodded.
It was a road for robbers and highwaymen. The wood that shone a purple glow. I could see the blue waves through the cracks. The wind that blew the curls in all directions but forward and ahead of what you left behind.
And at the end of the pier was the moon. This was the way to get to the moon I was convinced. A giant teardrop of a moon, just formed.
I was sure that I could touch it at the end of the pier.
It was a yellow cheese moon. A Bollywood moon. A dream moon. A cheap theatre stage moon. It was a moon made of lover's imagination. It was a storybook moon.
The moon grew with each step towards it.
When we reached the end of the pier, the moon just shuffled a little back.
Unreachable as always. Temptation, just beyond easy reach.
Do you think a boat would get us there?
I like answers that come after a pause.
We could try.
Do you have a boat to the moon?
Not that I have heard.
I always was creative.
Maybe we can ride people to the moon for a fare.
I always was secretive.
Let it just be our secret, the way to the moon.
13 Comments:
WOW! That was just so gr8! :-)
D
Surrounded by people the Moon still stands alone ...
Recognized by many still remains unknown .....
Am fumbling for words like looking for lost stitches in sweaters...
-Sparsh
my favorite part:
I like answers that come after a pause.
coz the silence after the answer, is worth the wait.
D: :) Ty!
Preetha: Nice...
Sparsh: How've you been?
Varun: Because it pretends of a thinking that perhaps never goes into it.
bows and gratitude is all I have to offer.
hi poornima,
the pregnant pause - touche -
a really nice one.
Unreachable as always. Temptation, just beyond easy reach.
good one..
hey sweetheart.....
a beautifully charted one....again...
For the last few months, I came here and went back wondering why I'm coming back again! This one gives me the answer.
awesome ....
Samyak: And comments!
OAC: Ty!
Pritika: :)
Aks: Ty again! :)
Jubin: That bad its been?
The rain tree: Thank you!
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