Pen it – The Art of The Hand

Life and Laces

I want to take a read. A read where someone has been shot and he’s clutching the wound on his stomach while driving, and it’s raining and he’s groaning but you know he isn’t going to die just yet because he’s Russian. He’s the bad guy and he will only die if he’s looking into the eye of an American superhero; the American who will grin at him while he bleeds and he will hiss something defiant in Russian before he dies with a Cold War reminiscent sneer. A book that is simply a dark, wicked, twisted iceberg.

I am ready for the book where when there is a sudden knock at the door you look up and listen if the knock came from your door. Or a book with a woman who peels apples with a penknife wearing only blue underwear. And have pink nipples. She wears the…

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I go back into my yesterdays, at times and bathe my mind in beautiful memories of your past love. It softens the influences of present worries and annoyances. It gives a source of escape from the unpleasant harsh realities of life and maybe – who knows? – My mind will yield to me, during a temporary delusion into the world of fantasy.

They say memories of love never pass. They linger, guide and influence long after the source of stimulation has faded. Well, I recall the first time we met back in 2017. The day started with morning sun reflecting on the window pane and contrasting few colors while some were too faint to be observed. The colors formed an apparition of a blossoming flower rich in colors, which spread its petals in every direction. Back then, I was kind of a loner. I didn’t talk much, didn’t smile much. I can’t even recall the last time I made eye contact with anyone. I was working on a project on entomopathogenic nematodes and usually had to report to the field, lab and the local library in that chronological order. I could say my day was scientifically occupied and well, a person who likes being alone, I was just doing fine. Continue reading “Flip A Page”