From the Other Side

The Escape

"Ah, but I was so much older then,
I'm younger than that now."

Do you remember, my friend? That was the morning when we escaped. We ran away from this sad and claustrophobic illusion like stray dogs, only to find ourselves in a canvas much bigger, which encapsulated us and went beyond us. The sky was deep blue, with occasional spots of clouds here and there. The clouds were painted red and yellow, as if coming alive from a Van Gogh painting. One giant piece of cloud tore the sky in half – and it moved across the sky, blown away by the shrill wind , as if a zeppelin on a voyage. Or a spaceship in disguise. Up there live the Gods, I wondered. I felt as if I could stretch my hand and touch the sky, knock on heaven's door. What is it that they might be doing? Drinking wine, singing the hymn of rainbow. We raised our voice. From the horizon, a golden monochrome flickered. The sun was out. The other side of the world was growing darker still, I thought. The light was ours to be. With silent hummings and strummings of a half-asleep guitar, our minds wandered. For a moment, on the rooftop, underneath the deep blue sky, we were scorpion kings. We controlled the passage of time. Beneath us, the worn out township panted in r.e.m. sleep. We were awake, living. We were living a dream. A hungry, dizzy, sobbing dream. But nevertheless, an alive one. 

That was when our yellow tune found its way to the endless river. And it kept raining endlessly.