I wonder ...

As I sit inhaling the deep dark smoke of the tortoise coil burning incessantly for half an hour now, I wonder. I rest my forehead on my knees and I wonder. I close my eyes and I wonder.

 

How about starting off with the mosquito whose buzz doesn’t seem to become incoherent anymore , especially with the fall of night. I trap a blood-sucker and holding one of its wings ,albeit slenderly lest I hurt it too much, I hold it over the coil fumes. Note the irony! Maybe I’ve come to feel death hurts less than hurt itself. The ‘anopheles’ sniggers and smolders , I release it. Has it realized its just back from a holocaust? The bitter truth emboldened by its inability to authorize its way into the logic now defies the the truth itself. I stare wondering if I was in the mosquito’s place would I’ve felt the same as I’m doing now…

 

Suddenly I feel my wet palms outstreched. I wonder . Its not summertime out here. The eyes which seem to have been lost for tears have suddenly come alive. Maybe its just those redundant fears or that bitterness which one so often hears. Maybe its just those fumes after all…I wonder.

 

Keep having an identity crisis. I wonder. A mundane existence ,quite shattered by its non-existence. The daily ,uncrossed in its oath, moves on. Me, with niggles abound turn my head round and round. Seem to be going around in circles or ovals(rather). Sometimes I just stray too much into the realms of light. Trespass the perihelion. Burnt out by the incorrigible heat and blinded by the faith I am thrown off guard. And now I trespass the aphelion. Into darkness. A life of trespassing. Somehow belief fails to rear its head. I wonder.

 

My eyes arched into an unseen pose . I feel the dried cheek stretched out wipe it on my tee. I wonder. I had ideas. I had visions. I had dreams. I had hopes. I had fantasies. I had wishes. I had faith. I had belief. The last two are still there. Probably they keep me alive amidst the dead halo around me. I prefer to be mystic now. Not mysterious. Prefer to bottle up. Not shoot out. Prefer to live it. Not let it. Prefer to pierce it. Not curl around it. I wonder.

 

As I relight the coil distressed by the bite’n buzz I feel the nausea. Sometimes its heavenly. Sometimes its just so much to find a sure haven. Sometimes, well..I just wonder.

 

Forward to the old. The forehead placed strongly on my knee I wonder. I feel I wonder too much. Its my gift. Who’s the recipient of the gift? Me ? I wonder …

 

Make happy those who are near, and those who are far will come…I wonder …