I can see him in the couple’s eyes when they stare at each other. I can see him when a mother looks at her kids. I can see him when a newborn lays his eyes at his parents. I can see him in the nutrients that lie beneath and in the stars that align the sky. Every day, he gifts us beautiful flowers and scrumptious fruits. His presence is exigent, ’cause he is in the water, air, and light. He is in you. Everything is his manifestation. And I can never be ignorant of his love. Yes, God is my lover and I am forever his.
“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”
Someone was yelling his throat out. My head was pounding hard from inside. I guess it took a minute or two to come back to my senses. It was so difficult for my eyes to adjust to the light. Every cell of my body was screaming in agony. Things started to exacerbate. It took me a while to figure out what was happening but it was too late. My eyes started to see things or I guess it felt more like a death wish. Lying down the sky was red with blood. Inside the metro, the light was flickering and blurriness covered my eyes.
The yellow fingers of the sun brushed my hair . I could hear the soft bristle of leaves when cold air caressed them. The birds were chirping beautiful tunes and the waves kept kissing the shore. Crabs slowly paced enjoying the pure unmitigated beauty. I turned my face and saw a young girl with her blond hair tied to a pony jingling sideways, smiling. Her nice little sweet voice and her shrieking laughter started ringing inside my ears. I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I tried hard. But my whole body ached. Along with her, I saw a lady beautiful as the young girl grabbed and tickled her and she said something to the young girl, pointing at me. She sidled towards me with both her arms apart saying something, this time I tried harder, even though my body restricted me I didn’t care. It was really difficult, that tears streamed from my eyes. Tears of happiness shadowed by pain. And I heard two words”Pa..Pa, I love you”. My heart was pounding harder and I felt like puking. Tears strolled down my cheeks. For a moment I felt satiated. She looked so beautiful and I wanted to grab her with both my arms hug her to the fullest and say those beautiful words to her. I tried to move my lips slowly but they were wet with blood and numb. I stammered and my voice quavered to say “I ….lo…love….u.too,ho…ney”. But it was too late. Fell into an unprecedented peace and it never came out.
After 20 years later on 22/ 7/2014 a pulchritudinous young lady stood in front of the tomb looking at it bereaved with a palpable feeling of poignance. She stood for a while with no tears and left by placing a bouquet and a smile appeared on her face.
The tomb said: In loving memory of Jacob Smith Died on 22/7/1994 Aged 33 years A breeze brushed past her and she heard ‘I love you, honey’. Nature smiled. At that moment a regrettable story found its way out. And the clouds cried. A rain of love and happiness.
He was my childhood friend, we didn’t talk much but our eyes spoke a lot. We never got a chance to speak with our voices and we never got to exchange our names let alone our feelings for each other. I don’t know where he is at present or he doesn’t know where I’m. But I am sure the intense fervency that came to life when we were close still exists in the distance stifling us, no matter how far apart we are or nigh maybe, who knows. Let fate decide.
She, in her life, cried many times but the one time, excruciating pain devoured her, tears and sweat plummeted hard, her cries reflected the intense agony. Her obscure screams were suffocated by fear and enthusiasm but when the sudden shrills of feeble spasmodic weeps accompanied her screams, her shrieks slowly faded.
The tears that began their journey from her exhausted eyes met the lips that beamed with ecstasy. Within seconds she had forsaken all she had gone through because she was overwhelmed by the gain of being a mother rather than the pain of becoming a mother.
That is the one time in every women’s life when tears of cry and happiness collide.
“The age is just a number, your real age is defined by the number of mistakes you make and how much you have learnt from it, how much you have grown, for that I am still young, lad, so think before you call me grandpa”- he laughed hysterically yet fervidly at the newspaper boy.
He was too wise to be a ‘madman’, that was what the people called.