In this nihilistic world there was she

Everyone knows what is world, the earth, the sun, the moon, birds, sky and even the greenery, the waters and the air.  A place where everyone has been assigned with respective tasks by the Divine. And in this nihilistic world there was she to whom it was a comparative to that one which she had created with her trueness and authenticity. Generally, people are supposed to come in this world and go with it but bewilderingly she had formed her own. A world where loneliness made the sky and pain the earth. But she had found solace in the middle of it. Moon of and sun of seventh heaven. Where the masses were busy creating illusions of a comparative, there was she with a secret cosmos, The Neverland!

Her heart mild, her eyes serene and mind full of traumas but the face free from rakes of yearn. She adored the nature, the limpid beads of rain, the flakes of icy snow, darks, moon, twinkling stars and the woods. All the time gazing skies and wandering in the lanes of her soul. Her soul ambler of heavens` for her disembroil pair lived there with nymphs and angels. Listening to silence and silent talks were among her hobbies because in her world, silence was louder than screams and smoother than music. To people what mattered was the world and to her, it was the equanimity her pith was burning in!

Among all this it seemed that she was longing for someone to walk her to pragmatism, the one from welkins`, the one she had kept deep inside her bosom, the one she dreamt of, the one she had odes for. In the longing of a labyrinthine psyche, she had woven silence on the labyrinth of her soul in the desire to blend with the serene intimacy she was esurient for. Even though she used to grin to escape the questions which she could have fleshed out but never wished to. People cogitated her to be aberrant pronounced by her least pursuit. She was fed up by the disguise of innocent faces and seldom expected anything from anyone. she used to love every blessed soul that too quiescent but alas, she never received that much she deserved. As free from expectations, she never counted it. Her status made her known to everybody but her core was confined to herself alone

With obscure nature, she gave wings to all her wishes. In each defeat she faced she won herself. She never wished to enthral everyone rather she focused much on amplifying and retaining trust over her own soul. There was a huge difference between what others perceived her to be and what she was! She was in resonance with something mystical bringing ecstasies to a barren burgh. People occasionally endeavoured to mess up with her but she always ended as a reticent. The onus on her heart forged the clouds which dissipated and dribbled from her eyes under the reclusive sky for the buds and blossoms. Of her wounds, she was cured by her own psyche in plenty beau ways.               To every rejection she’d say, “Verily, greens turn gold and gold turns ash, so for this mo, let me be a seeker of love in blacks and greys and anything that comes in between. Let the silence be the way and subtle be the journey. And if I’m lost don’t come to see me rather seek love and I’ll be in your way. But I must tell you autumn for me is spring and autumnal is my soul.”

Decades passed and her world is still in syzygy. For illusions of the great unwashed she may be stagnant in the graveyard but she is still racy, twiddling in the gray of her Neverland which existed to her alone. The Divine blessed the altruistic soul with ubiquity so that she could extract joy from the miracles of nature. Lessons can be gained from the shades of her being, and heart wrenching pleasures from her taciturnity, peace of mind from the beatitude of her soul, eternal bliss from the fibs of her secern world, the Neverland!

Arbeena Altaf Bhat is pursuing MBBS in SUMS, Iran.