Thursday, 18 February 2016

The Hanging Droplet

The grass is cold with the winter dew and the droplets are ‘dangerously’ hanging on the irregularities of the grass, engulfed in a battle between gravity and grass’s resistance to not let it go away from it. I focus my biological lenses into the inner chamber of one of the hanging droplets, desperate to study it as if it were a school project to be submitted within the boundaries of an unimaginable time period. 

The droplet has a world of its own: unexplored, least traveled, hideous and possessing crystalline qualities. But I am convincingly unsure of the kind of composition its air is made up of,"does it have oxygen or is it just layers of water one after the other." I introspect. I feel intrigued by the heaviness that this lightweight droplet carries because does it host any living soul or is it nothing but mirrors randomly reflecting unclear images of the environment. 

One gush of even the slightest of air particle will put an end to the life of this droplet forever. But no! What I feel is that it is immortal. Yes. Because maybe it gives up on the shape it has been holding itself on but at the touch of the wet soil it will regain and reform into a flatter and wider drop of water ready to mix with its uncountable peers. But this one is uniquely unique; giving up is not in its nature and hence it is suspended in mid-air like a valiant fighter not giving up on bowing down. 

The strength, the hold, is so attractive! Is it the surface tension as physics says or is there a soul underneath those reflecting layers, which is impervious to the superficial vision I possess. If there is this some kind of a magical assistance on offer then surely this is beyond the scope of science. It requires astounding amounts of purity to see-through the skin of the droplet. Naked eye shows a distorted version of the droplet but now I am starting to feel that what if our visions are only incapable to break the mysterious shackles. But I know science will disagree and so will the people. Newer outlooks, divine as this are hardly encouraged until ‘certified’ and I am no authority, unfortunately… But now I have the time, and I will scan it all over; I’ll delve into the unfathomable depths of its world to unravel what exactly it wants to show us but not what we see; I’ll unwind the distortion to sharpen the images it shows to us, because who knows, this hanging droplet might be asking for help!       

Saturday, 13 February 2016


In a crowded market place I saw a guy gazing at a mannequin. He stood still with both his hands hanging loosely on his sides; his face held high by a few centimeters, giving an impression that he was probably looking at the mannequin’s eyes. The mannequin wore a baby pink lingerie, posing in a sultry manner to lure in some ‘customers’. But he didn’t seem to fall for this marketing trap laid by the shopkeeper, instead he stood still for minutes without any sort of motion.  It was as if he was in the intense process of mindful meditation- where a person meditates being aware of his surroundings. The uninterested crowd passed behind him, pushing and shoving him away from their extremely tight schedules, schedules in which they couldn’t fit themselves but only the multinationals they slaved for. After a while, a brown pup came around him and started hovering near his feet. It was trying to catch his elusive attention in search of some food and enormous love but he was actually not there. Even the pup lost its will and sat beside his right foot, idly waiting for at least his minimal commotion.

Then, that moment of a spring morning arrived when the warmth in the atmosphere starts becoming harsh, leaving behind its freshness, but still he was stoned at the same place. And then the owner of the shop stepped-in in a casual manner to re-open his only source of income and found this person in his intriguing paralysis. He shooed away the innocent pup with a spark of dominance and without any sense of affection and called for this guy standing directly in front of him. He didn’t answer, so the shopkeeper pushed him aside by a little stroke of his palm only to disturb his body by a few millimeters but not his attention. Still, the guy stood firm where he were ever since like ages. The shopkeeper thought for a moment, considering all possibilities of him being blind and deaf both and started testing his assumptions. He waved his hands right in the front of the guy’s face but there wasn’t an iota of movement; continuing his battle, he shouted vehemently in both his ears but response was a blank audio-video from the guy. From behind a short heightened man in his forty’s came and patted on the shopkeeper’s back. Alarmed, he immediately looked back with an expression fluctuating between surprise, confusion, frustration and more confusion. The short man asked,”Did he move at all? Did he say anything?” baffled, the shopkeeper said “no” in a reflex reaction accompanied with questions. The short man replied with a satisfaction,”Oh that’s brilliant! I knew he was in love with her.” Outpouring with doubts, the shopkeeper gave a questioning look to this short man who possessed a caring happiness on his face, and he said,”Last night I saw this lady mannequin, I showed it to him and I could see the love he had for her; it was love at first sight. The very next moment I glued his feet here so that he could gaze at her beauty until he wanted and I am extremely delighted with the love they have generated since the last six-seven hours, I feel like letting him stay here for more. Let them know each other to their unexplored cores.” Stunned and astonished, the shopkeeper asked,”Are you out of your mind? And this is a mannequin! How come it is so real? His skin, his eyes, his lips, how come… and… if it is a mannequin then how come… he loves… what the hell is all this you are talking about!” he said all this while touching the male mannequin’s facial features. “I had a wife whom I loved so much that I used to get lost in her the most when she was in her pink lingerie, the moment just before we were about to make love. I loved resisting the temptation of what was forthcoming and what was right then. It was our kind of love: unusual and magical! So I didn’t want him to miss that kind of enchantment and ecstasy I experienced, after all he is my best friend now and our tastes are analogous.” said the short man with joyous tears trickling down his cheeks and instantly he walked away from there pecking his ‘friend’ at his neck and leaving the shopkeeper awestruck.