Wind's Vaudeville: Will !
Yes, Will as in a Wind's Mill tosses self into ânothing,â and yet, of which, it makes somethingâŠ.A new beginning!
ð¶ ðŸðððâŠðšð ð ððððððð ðððð ððððððð ðððððð,
ðŒððð ððððððððð, ððððððð ðððð ðððð ðððððððð ððððððð,
ðšðð ðð ððð ðððð ððððððððð ðððððððð, ðð ðððð ðð ðððð ððððððð ðððððâðððð ðððððð,
ðŽððððð ððððððððð ðð ð ðððððððð ððððð, ðððððð ððð ðð ððð ððððððð ðððð ðððð
⊠ðšðð ðŸððð ðð ððððððð ððð ðððð ðð ðððððððððð, ðððððððð ððððð ððððð ðððð ððððððð ððð ððð( ððððððð) ðð ððððððð
ð§¡ðŠ¢ðŠ¢ðŠ¢ð§¡ âšð«
© âïž ðŽðð ðð ð®ððððð, ð ðððºðððððððð ðððð, ðððð ð
About the Creator
Madhu Goteti
The thrums in the strums and the delights in the humdrum of life have always fascinated me.
Itâs that feast of reason and flow of soul; in all that I see and all that I shall behold!
I am an avid lover of art and philosophy!
Keep reading
More stories from Madhu Goteti and writers in Poets and other communities.
ðŽððððððððððð! ððððð ððð ððððð ððððâŠ.ððð!
ð creative train of thought is set off by the unexpected, the unknown, the accidental, the disorderly, the absurd, the impossible.... and certainly, the most mentionableâ the crucibles. Like me, every person has a train of thought ,upon which, they choose to travel wherever, whenever and in whatever order they happen to advance. In recalling or for that matter âreading what others have done or said, my mind, prefers to come up with no permanent fixity of thought. Such so, I choose to confine myself âhereâto give a brief explanation of thoughts; the name by which it can be calledâRumination. These are cogitations by themselves and I choose to make a character sketch of them, although intending to propose âfreedom,â (throâ them ,) in its most spiritual sense. To that, I will simply mention this for sure : Never let hate chain to these trains ð of thought; and if, equally,all statutes of liberties ðœmust be rightfully preserved. So here goes a trailing thought of expressive speech, by what means so ever, graciousness is being brought at your service ⊠Also, herein, dutifully, I raise my hands to confer my gratitude (like this : ð,)towards that greatest author of goodnessesâ the almighty! Dear Reader, See how transient are these words, after which, we toil do hard to express day in and day out. And ,as such, the weary day passes into the night, amassing the effects of some illusive order. Miserly silent or audaciously vocal these words are ( piggybacked over lines,) for your kind perusal. Tread carefully else yea shall be ranked disorderly over ð«µðŒ these woven lines. Now, just imagine the plight of those who fail to express âas though, squandering about, and shunned to scorns. That always shows up as the chilling neglect of mankind. Look ð ,ever apt, here goes this trail of thought ð whence each gay turn captures thy moves. The Trailing Train ð hooted and it was laboring along an endless path. It was on a prolonged run moving across many cascading turns. Everything was ensuing upon this unwinding path of no returns. Needless to say, in all this, the tracks were abruptly vanishing, and vaguelyâthe sensation was a total gooey amalgam. It was no illusion! The quasi in such a context was noticeable. But, in some connected sense, history was leading into a personage of ghastliest lineament. Quite literally, the scene was breathtaking to discern, but it was posing a philosophical issue. Meaning âan absurd situation was emerging and it all felt far from settling. The path that I was lain upon was a sort of a grand repose, so much so, held over a headless void, but still, I sallied forth ,as if, in a âtime-tunneled syncing,â problem. And alongside,working together, was this bare fact that humanity âmore specifically, my impulse, was undergoing a deeper transformation. To understand this properly âmerely assume me ordering time in a reflective sense. And all this is to bring about an experience that shall remain unrealistically closer to life yet it isnât. Itâs time âtiding through mindâs eye and treading through the Year 2080 AD. Therein, my mind gets possessed with artificially induced intelligence. And justly bearing the critic noble name of a erudite scholar : I was chipped. This was a situation where great many were quivering in or for that matter, loosing âconsciousness. Launched beyond their depths, this was evidently discreet. So such so , on every turn, a miasmic glum enveloped many all around me. I was stuck (as well,) on this baffling road, where nothing câd ever be held together as cogently close nor far flung to be less than rejection unbound. But, so on and so forth, gradually, I was emerging afloat, much over a distant origin while magically suspended in this mysterious and languorous reality. Everything was emerging through this clunky iron-clad roof of the locomotive called âThe Thought Train.â However, What was happening with me, in fact, was precisely this âI was slowly sailing off into an eternal spun. The imagery can be provocative,I know! But stay with me and you shall know -âWhatâs for What ?â Whatâs in a matter, after all âŠ. So, flailing against all this ( timed) escapade was my heart beating against death while my mind refused to sink into sleep. And tugging at my soul was this raging emotion drawing its essence from the otherworldly vestiges. Perhaps, the most convincing touch was this inexorable feel that everything was to go up in flames. Clearly, things were burning up all around me, yet, my instincts were very much alive to feel imputed through it. So, on my shoulder was this unknown realm, bearing me as a voyager âalmost rowing me through the galaxies on the other end. And from my point of view, situations were questing to seek no particular destination. For a moment, it felt so untrue to face those spans of enormous plains of eternity. Yet there I was âliterally, wondering as to what I was doing amidst such distant galaxies. Fleeting ! Maybe âŠBut far through it, I had arrived into this void of deep mist. Construing through the stairways of emerging forms, I saw something there. âŠ. A stillness and a cold shore of died down seasâa sort of a ledge to look back into the past. Upon swift turnings of sight , there again, I found this âvast stretch of time, ending in this ancient scene. âWhose life is this and why am I passing through this,â I wondered. Abruptly, there were terror guns blasting right over my ken. And when I looked upon, some objects were boundlessly scattering lightenings in all directions. Neural firings ! Ah! Look! How far can learnings go! Across those fields, apparently, many people were paying premature tributes to this land of âoblivion.â Over those lucid grounds many people were about to amass so many joyless days and so many sleepless nights, quite at once. Such so, in succession, all were passing throâ entry doors of thoughts and climbing aboard unto an elusive retreats. It was ,as though, they were crossing over to the other side of the living world, to face an ominous journey quite upfront. In actuality, people were stepping into a place, marked by an âobservers chimera,â wherein, experiencing everything was like tying sand-ropes down onto seeping (imaginative) seas. Now âŠnow âŠnow⊠Donât say âthought f*ck ,âyet! Be with me and I shall show you what a phenomenal ride through these âhighs and lows,âactually bring. So out thereâŠ.thro and thro, I was making a âgrace call,â into a mystical sojourn. It was an inexplicable phenomenon of sensing paradise,and then to go onâin continuation, faring throâ those strange wildernesses âtaken upon, so unexpectedly. Was this a time travelerâs helm or does ascension truly feel like this in return. I wondered ?! But dispatched so, from the earthly ordinances of humanity, I was all allied with the flowing stream of concatenation. And going into such a passage of time wasnât easygoing at all. In another sense, everyone was being doled out whereby, none seemed real, yet, everything was common in terms of the chilling ways in which humanity was being casted off and burnt. And when one looks upon it through the impetuosityâs eyes it was evolutionary magnificenceâŠ. But âŠall said ⊠A worst massacre had befallen. And quite unimaginably, it was year 2080 AD. Luminously unbound, and invariably exuding smiles of that marvelous sun , each one of us was jaw dropping to watch what each was to ultimately become âa beam or a bubble, or simply reared to perpetuate into the ruins of this otherworldly shunt. And, all this was happening in an orderly fashion and I was one among them. Our whole bodiesâ(souls , minds and spirits, ) from here as âdistinct,â to there âin a fuliginous form , dismally congregating into heaps of junk, and then, disappearing as a âbleary gone.â In glumness ⊠We were much like instantly consumed in the locality of marginal things and vanishing into the perpetual extinction of nothingness. There was no return! Yet busily, with the hope of a new world to come, some people had their mindâs eyes fully open , while some others held their hands outstretched , as though, to welcome the next person, who was being befooled into such a mirthful transportation into logics. And to that I sayâ âcome, come with me to stay in such an array.â Itâs a rare providence only a few can holdâŠ. Everything âthereâwas being subjected to the same-âmelancholic pun.â Now, Dear reader , donât ask where once again âŠall in all, the answer to it is: It was a providence afloat over some riding spells. Set up in a sober sense, I wasnât distinguishable as anything in particular. My entity wasnât to be framed in a letter nor a word. I was that variable to be mentioned as in a syllable-d hoot ðŠ âmuch like a whizzy sound emanating from an âatom.â And as though in a deaf toned shout, I was jumping and skipping many spiral turns. It had been a serious assault of mind over matter as a consequence of my zeal,I suppose?! Something echoed through those realms asking: Have a Heart?! And I remember saying this to selfâŠ. Why must one take upon such an endeavour that springs up from the absolute unknown. It was ,literally, from nowhere; much as much as some ordained missionary propelling to legitimize the conceptual order of the metaphysical world. In there, it was like being on a miserable journey, unbound towards hellish conditions stuck at Pharos guidepost. I wanted to be free ⊠Out there, in all this, unawares, many were perched upon winged lunges; more so, like merely seated upon their bosoms, and twirling around in whirligigs to humbly meet endearing heartiness. At this hopeful retreat, I existed momentarily -at least. Dear Reader .. donât ask where?! Where could that be?! My answer would be : Itâs somewhere-where, Aether was flowing through cross fields , I suppose ?! Yet, at that sight,something was infecting souls very deeply. In succession, one by one, our seats ( remember âwe were all chained to trains ð of thoughts) were spinning around in nautical turns, and within minutes, everything was consumed in the horizonâs blazoning sun. âSwirly whip, Swoosh,â â-ah! I said to myself, totally mystified by the wonder of not knowing what would happen next in the subsequent churns. And within all this, there was no dawn nor dusk. People were found gallantly grunting to seek and adjust their seats to their adjacent fields. Aligned to a single hyper-baronial journey but disembarking on a different point of symmetry. Could that be synergy ⊠I wondered as I was being provoked once again âŠ. In ways, it all felt like a contraption, unraveling as a mystical lead that each âjustlyâhad to invariably confront. Yes, we were on a voyage âwhereof, a train was eventually overturning itself towards this âother worldly,â sojourn. Everything was descending into a peculiar inferno, seething and boiling from the bottom. It seemed everyone had fallen prey to a worst holocaust devised by the worst of men. A time or two, a lovable cherubic child wâd climb the train ð in an anticipation of some newly discovered things. A genial prospect indeed ! But forthwith came this temporary joy, as if, it was desperate to seek some ultimateââgroup shunt.â It was more pronounced than anything that happened in history. It was much more than that earthlyââSalem witch trials,â to concur greater denominations. Sometimes patterns of families wâd hurdle together in turns; quickly making their way in and out , as though they were never to return. Following which , a dead vast was borne over those fleeting moments of travels. An array of passing redundancies slowly crept into silence. Unyieldingly, a dingy darkness prevailed. And all this showed no signs of halting until the next bleaker âlike sun, shone up to meet the horizon. Yeah, it was an intergalactic Amazon ! Or some such sorts at least! All in all, with all the timelines melded together, (one beside the other, )we were embodying sheer transcendence âthat oneness of spirit, completely slung over fortunes arrows, âtotally outrunning each other onto those higher grounds. An Elevation or an elevated thought, I suppose ! And we were all in it together. Strangely,as nothing like the image nor like any estrangement could ever dictate, yet faintly, everything exuded a thousand natural shocks. But crossing by in such electrical fleets, everything was devoid of affliction. I had surpassed it like aeons ago⊠But consumed so, perhaps, in such an antithesis, (time and again,) the surroundings suddenly turned swankily garish and somberly brilliant. Like geodesic domes everything was spreading all across those glistening scenes. It was mind bogglingly magnificent. There was a flashy spillage across the blazing skies, much so like the hooded crests of the train which had melded into that miasmic glum. Now, everything was finally bent in one grace wherein, all the three realms ( heaven , earth and skies) naturally merged and the railroads took the ultimate progression. Again , it was like a thought teased by a fuzzy emotion and roaming into mansions of commotion. But even though , the finality of âashes to ashes, dust to dust , â had just arrived and the scathe of total annulment was yet to begin, people were watching,(equally mesmerized,)as to what was left (of them ,)amidst those edifying burns. There was nothing âin there âto see,feel , believe nor even learn. Thereupon, âonce upon a time,â had all grown into a desert form. And the MIND along with its MATTER was floating under such a situation. All this was to face all sorts of illusive courses to be first âlost ,and then, to be ultimately found. And in the end to realize the lightness of itâs nature in the following sentences decree âŠ. Engulfed in the desert's parched silence, To realize this ephemeral truth : âI was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind.â But then something in the wind bespoke âyet again : The voice of your soul is breath âwalk gently, he said ! And Even though the unregarded river of life was indiscernibly flowing through me over thoseðµ deserted planes. The grit in my quartzite existence said to me: is there a way you can escape to make your way to that ultimate destinationâthe sea. Thence ⊠A buried stream slowly formed beneath the desert sands and steadily it caught apace with me. Clouds were catching up grayish hues and the blues seemed vanishing in the crimson views. Then a ray of hope was born. The myriadic oasis though remote âfar thrownâfar goneâwas actually close to my heart . I was feeling rested in peace! ð§¡ðŠ¢ðŠ¢ðŠ¢ð§¡ âšð« © âïž Madhu Goteti, September 24th, 2024
By Madhu Goteti Exclusive ⢠about a year ago
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.