Chutzpah of a blue gazelle

It was yet another starry night, when the stars had glowed bright in an entrapment of a resplendent moonlight. Mileu was restless, her mind bubbling with effervescence of yearnings in the wild blue yonder. Meandering formations of Orion Stars, flight of the Grey Falcons and taciturnity of the Astral Elephants fortified her belief against all frivolity of common sense. The Astral Elephants supreme in their art of prophecy; had been there for millions of years, always overwhelmed in a state of trance, meditating ceaselessly on the Orions. The Orion Stars controlled the eminence of time, place and action in the trilogy of thought, light and formation. Mesamosus, one of the Astral Elephants meditating on the tender plains of Neverland, had foretold that little Mileu had been entrusted with a mission by the Orions themselves. There had never been an antelope so blue in color, with eyes of such boundless innocence and with a pair so majestic, those horns of exemplified glory. Mileu had been watching the waxing and waning of the moon for quite sometime now. And today the moon glowed with an abundance of both fullness and radiance. She did realize the impermanence of both time and vision, analogous to enshrouding of the moon. Teramosus the fairest disciple of the great Mesamosus, had unveiled Mileu’s purpose in a dream and had foretold her connection to the faraway bluish planet named Magasheka, to which her ancestors belonged and to which she had to reconnect when the stars were ready and when the new Orions struck a full eighteen faced diamond. Just before birth, a cosmic event had trapped her in time-space warp and she was born in a planet ever unknown, never seen or never heard of. 

The eighteenth face of the diamond was developing tonight across the new Orions and it was time. The grayest of the Grey Falcons, Jahrena, flew across the full moon in an instant and then he was nowhere to be seen by a seemingly engrossed Mileu. It was said that the Grey Falcons impervious to space-time phenomenon traversed the dimensions of an entire galaxy in no time, swifter than light itself. They had been born of pure energy with a subtlety encompassing all the eight elements of light. Boundless, formless and ageless they were, and with a benediction of mystic powers had they been honored. Jahrena was standing beside Mileu, watching her with an intent yet expectant vision. Astonishing Mileu with a chuckle, by the duality of presence and pedagogical precedence, made little Mileu was stunned for a while. Never having seen a Grey Falcon from such close distance, she was stunned to speechlessness for a few moments. Jahrena continued, “Thou shalt jump across the Macedoza sea, from the highest rocks of Eon facing the first moonlight, when the eighteenth face of the diamond completes itself. For thou has been long entrusted with thee connection to be established from thine’s gift of light”. Mileu quite surprisingly could understand every bit of what Jahrena’s had said. 

Thus began her journey towards the far eastern cliffs of Eon. Though impossible for even a grown up antelope to climb beyond the rough moors, surrounding the snowcapped mountains of Eon, she had already beemn bestowed with limitless strength of purpose with an audacity of hope. The eighteenth face of the diamond of the new Orions consummated which eventually outshone even astral systems of faraway galaxies. By the grace of Orions, she reached the mighty cliff of the mountains of Eon, the point where the moon shed it’s first light, the point which attributed diminution to everything and anything living or non-living. And then, little Mileu leaped across the cliff towards the bluish rays of horizon and the connection was made within moments. Eighteen dazzling rays coming our of the celestial diamond refracted the whole space-time continuum and these rays created multitudes of cosmic bridges of time, across the skies. Mileu found herself in the bluest planet of the galaxy, which was all encompassing those dreams of yonder. It was the place she had dreamt about all along, a place of utopian wonder and poetic surrender, the fairest and bluest one in the entire cosmos. It was home.

Evanescence Eloquence and Dreams

A knight’s dream is an ensemble of glory, love, pain and death. The eloquence of victory, the fear of loss and a seeming hushed hope for adoration, quite intrinsically imbibes the genes of mortality itself. At their own assorted levels, each idiosyncrasy manifests with a vigor of its own, waning away progressively with time, making way for another. Dissociation of imagination with a significant level of persistence in ephemerality though seemingly subservient to an unknown plane of consciousness, impregnates the three layers of impermanence which is better carved up by the contours of time as the past, the present and the future. Transience of being makes them real, while somewhere deep inside one’s consciousness, inside the veils of thoughtlessness, exists a thought of eternality. The feeling of permanence in an endless stream of bliss, wisdom, splendor, strength, wealth, fame and renunciation. 

‘So near yet so far’, perhaps is quite a familiar thought in it’s own scheme of things. Quite implicitly, the essence of true wisdom perhaps subject to self-realization, seems to have established its own order of precedence. Frailty of mortal vision makes one perceive a snake even when a piece of rope is lying around. Does that imply, that one has experienced a snake before, most probably in a similar situation or are the wavelengths of wisdom shared across immortality ? It could be neither too, as ignorance limits thoughts and curbed thoughts limit mortal vision. The myth of self-fulfilling prophecies power the vanity of existential being. With unrealized dimensions and non-existent assumptions they appear to be true and necessitate exceptions to espouse the theorized advocacy.

An unrealized dream in which mortality takes birth, lives, dies and replenishes must have an innate aim. The goals of duality opposes the very laws of nature in the ascribed absence of boundlessness. The goal of a seeker is to seek and in this case wisdom of being and non-being seems paramount to satiate the quest of life.

An Evangelist's Epilogue

Glow of a resplendent fragrance of a bliss ever known,

A parlance innate, perpetual, too special in its own,  

Beyond invisible realms of the metaphysical and the ethereal,

Each step closer dispelling the eternity of any periphery,

Makes eons mingle, stalling every moment passing by.

A charm of romanticism with that effervescent love, cannot adorn the inherently yet a bit toothy smile of anyone but her. With skin flowing like silk with such pearly glow, and a sculpted face with eyes beholding a fleeting glory of innocence; moments of idiocy and the then terms of endearment, makes my mind traverse the outgrown wanderlust of sanity itself. 

Sense of humor could very well entertain itself, but the effect of her insanity seems just  unprecedented. Everything and anything have been adopted with "u"s and they sound real phunee. Even a puppy would be henceforth known as a 'powpee'. Her silence seems minimal with disturbance being phenomenal. 

A rare occurrence, but terms of endearment call for a hurt ego, to be calmed with some real poor jokes; which could be at anyone's cost. 

Frugality sustains itself by saving ten from a taxi yet spending two thousand on some new shiny idiotic fabric which could be very well used to clean a wet table, even rub a dirty floor. Culinary skills do not need any introduction, mostly they are bragged long before the food can honor your plate. With hands carved out of a poetic finesse, it would be a treat to watch her cook. Most of the times a measured sense of impatience exists in her mind, trying to finish the most nonsensical things quickly.

Quite satirically to my forgetfulness, God has endowed her with a mighty sense of remembrance, more powerful than any organizer on this planet. Rest assured the date, time and place of any and every event will be there in her head. More than often it's a welcome trouble, when you are reminded of forgetting a few fake birthdays. I am even sometimes confused with the real ones.

An embarrassing set of nicknames other than the primary ones, can make even a corpse laugh. Perhaps that's a part theory and a part practice. Understanding each other is never a primary, having a highly correlated sense of humor, however is. Most of the times her eyes are moonstruck with love, however a bit of my impatience relieves them of any cosmic delusion for long. 

Perhaps it's just a dream, perhaps it's material under the semblance of another dream, but it still goes on and on, impulsively. The morning star shines bright, leaving behind a silent conundrum of wakefulness, forgetfulness and pure bliss.