Saturday, 1 February 2014

The Desert

It was just another fine morning, and she had woken up to the sunshine across the glass door and the smell of warm tea, just as she did every day. But soon as she stepped out of her bed, something strange happened. Things around her started disappearing one by one. The glass doors darkened, the walls silently crumbled down, the smell and sounds were all gone, and the floor below her feet suddenly turned coarse. She looked around, and the world around her seemed to slowly dissolve and evaporate right in front of her own eyes. It seemed that what she saw just minutes earlier, and every day before that, were all a mirage. Is this some sort of a temporary insanity? Is this what they call hallucination? Or is this, she thought helplessly, what it is going to be, always?

She looked around herself in disbelief yet again. This second time, it realised that she was standing in the middle of a desert. There was sand all around her, and the thick, yellow grains below her feet now felt real and gripping. Oh, where would she go from here - she gasped.

Moments passed. She realized that she had to eventually come to terms with it. The reality, that, she had indeed lost her way in this world. It could be an accident. Or it could be a punishment, an exile; for all the times that she took her surroundings for granted, for all the times that she had let them down. Or, was it that what she thought existed before was just a myth? That this is, what this was meant to be, always.

The surprise was yet not over. As she stood there, still coping with what she saw around her, she realised the grains below her feet were moving, swiftly and steadily. To her horror, she realised what she stood upon was quick-sand, and it was a matter of minutes before it would drown her beneath it's surface.

She ran for her life. She had to. If she stopped, it pulled her down. If she gave up, it will kill.

She possibly could not stop and ask what she did to deserve this, to ask if there was still time that she could make up. She could do all they'd want of her. She'd make up for every thing she ever did wrong. She will take it all back. She will ask for mercy. She will, all what they ask.

But no, there was no one.

She could only run for my life.

She has only been running for my life, ever since.