Psychedelia – The Leaves

Every key of this keyboard feels like a petal – crisp and old. I can even feel a color, cool it is, how u can feel a color, and see it with your fingers. It’s yellow, and some of them with a hint of orange. The sun is shining bright, and closer to the horizon; it will start to go orange in sometime. It’s yellow for now, but not scorching hot. It’s slightly warm, but soothing warmth it is. Not the one which makes you acknowledge the heat that comes with it, but the one which soothes you nicely from the chill that you would have felt, were the sun absent. The leaves lie everywhere, I stand cautiously to not step on them, and I type this on the leaves. With every press on a key I make sure I retract soon enough to not break the crisp and inflexible dried leaves.

But the monitor, bright, with the letters, letters of this post, shining black; this monitor reminds me that I am still in the office with the walls of my cube that comes along with it. I can see no leaves, only buttons; the tube lights not the sun, is bright, and the air? There is no air, only a cold aura; stagnant, like the minds that surround me.

I should be somewhere better. Open airs, that sun, that leaves, and an alley on the road, bounded by a wall on one side, old wall with fungal growth, covered by creepers – many of them.  The other side of the boundary, the side opposite to the rustic wall – there are trees. Long wood, some short; the ones nearer to the alley road, are shorter than the long, stubborn trees far away. And these leaves, overlapping the street like a torn canopy; torn, for it leaves those small gaps, where if I am careful enough, can walk, without blowing off or crushing these leaves, which rest so gracefully, scantly bathing in the sun, which now is hidden by the green wall to the side. Only some light escape and fall on the leaves, as the sun still peeps from over the wall. It is getting orange now. The far areas of the forest, with those big trees, they are disappearing. Their wood growing darker, their leaves turning black, and slowly it morphs to a big subsuming darkness, now ravenously approaching the shorter trees, for there are no big trees, which stood protecting it. The sun which kept the darkness in check now leaves; it might be angry on the leaves, on the trees, for using it so much but not giving anything back and instead helping and sharing the gifts with others all the time. The sun leaves, as darkness consumes them all, all the trees, and now it is coming for the leaves.

Light! Light is what they need. I run as far as I could to find light, the only way to protect these delicate leaves. I ran, to get light, which went with the sun. I can still bring light; I said with some hope; when I saw this creature indifferent to my desperation, indifferent to the terrible fate that approaches the dear leaves. This stone is it smiling at me? Is it teasing me, standing so boastfully? Why does it stand still when the dear, sweet leaves are in danger? Get up. I should throw a stone at it, to galvanize it, I thought. So adamant, it is still silent. More stones, big strokes, all with persistence. Somehow, I want more for him to show support than attending to the leaves. Get up, I shouted, the sound paralleled with another stone I threw, and a spark I saw. A bright one, it blazed and followed some more. Light! There is light. I hit him more, I might murder it I doubted, but I did not care. I hit more, and there were more sparks. Light! I shouted jubilantly, and the light settled on some leaves. I smiled. I saved them, and I let go a sigh of relief which added up to the breeze and amplified the light. A breeze of sun! I announced, as the breeze carried with it the flame to all the leaves. And it takes me with it, to a world of light, for my efforts I took to save them from dark. I am in the sun, with my leaves. They still grow dark, but it’s not that darkness that ate the trees, I saved them from it.  The leaves dance, they must be so happy. Closed my eyes are, as I feel the sun over my body, hot it was, not soothing like that sun, but I like the heat.

Am I on the sun that was behind the wall? Am I that one that was far away? How did I arrive here? Magic Stone! I acclaimed, as the heat became a part of me. I realized I was becoming the sun. Powerful! I claimed. I was ready to see it, and I shouted before my voice dissolves with the sun and my vision becomes part of the light.

Let me see my world from here.