Taste

It had begun.

And it was here to stay. At least I am not letting it go.
Silence. Silence of a storm brings more violence to the act itself. This, I thought, is the point when the fears depart only to let the void of a lifetime to set in. A vacuuming act.

A ray passes through it occasionally. It reminds me the taste of the coldness in a frozen strawberry. Ripe. Luscious.

It reminds me of my first-ever flight. Adrenaline. The thrill of being alive, and not being seen.

A golden field with the orange sun teaching me the meaning of freedom.
The vertical horizon that I discovered aboard a Kolkata-bound flight.
The first kiss and the joy of knowing how insatiable "insatiable" can really be.
It reminds me of a beautiful thorn on a Black Rose.
Promises beautifully kept and more beautifully broken.
It reminds me the silent answers of the Hunter pointing towards a more silent horizon in a faded blue sky, telling me that I wasn’t a hopeless case.

A funeral wherein I laughed and laughed. The birth of someone wherein I cried and cried.

Was there anything in this world that defined happiness and sadness? Events were events. How you faced them was entirely up to you. If you cried, or if you smiled.
Happiness, like life and death, is so relative.
The softest zephyr and an evening song of the most melodious symphony.
The most grateful blink.

The most shiny glitter in my eye. The loudest clap of red thunder on the black horizon. And how fast I ran, as I saw the rain approaching. I knew I would be wet, but I wanted the thrill of escape. A battle I wanted to fight for its thrill though I knew I'd submit blissfully.
Snap shots of life.

A ray fills the void and brings back a slide show of events.
Fears evaporated and only detachment settled in. On the greenest leaves of my eyes. Dew Drops. A sunrise would make them evaporate. Evanesce. Detachment. Indifference. Loss of sense. There was no sense of loss. Or gains, for that matter. Let the judge decide. My defense rests. The verdict of silence was accepted by me. The judge's pronunciation would not matter anymore. Noise.
And the silence was taking unbelievable forms now. I was amazed at this faceless entity. May be I was seeing myself. Bare. The tattoo was engraved. Happy Birthday to me.

A new beginning. A subsiding twilight, and the dawn of a starry night. The skies cleared. The hunter was there to welcome me. My sole companion in the midst of the most important journey of my life. I'd found this night in the treasure vaults of my dreams. I'd resurrected it. I shot up, and I felt the speed. I had begun. I was flying at the speed of thought. Airborne. And I beckoned the life to catch up with me. I teased the meteorites and the comets to catch me if they could. But the meteorites swung in between heavenly bodies and comets were married to the sun. A dimple surfaced on my cheeks. It felt so warm here.
I understood gravity now: I was defying it.

One day I looked back and I saw the metamorphosis in the world: as per the seasons- rain, winter, and summer. I was above this now.
I was flying, teasing the heavenly bodies, and the gods (whom the people never resurrected anymore). I blew up stardust in my wake as I covered my dangerous descent. I was lost forever.

I had to keep this secret. Was I ever coming back again?
And if, at this point, you could taste me, you'd know what rapture tastes like.