Shades of being Chapter 2

Amelie (Movie: Amelie 2001) have her own world. The world of dreams spattered with million colours. I too have my own. The world of my own. My own being without borders. That’s where I travel on a breeze; feel as light as thousand coloured feathers. The intrigues of our being can get true with our dreams. 

A day in a dream:

A warm morning. I feel the sunshine smiles on my face through gaps of a large glass window and his legs on my thighs. The sunshine and his body are an eternity of warmness in combination. This feel like the whole universe is spinning for us, only for us. It makes us believe that the earth itself threads a pattern of togetherness, on a daily basis, without a nanosecond pause.

That cuddle, ever wanted one, on the bed. My eyes open the day with his subtle smile, that smile is more than a morning wishes, it sometimes tells everything we felt for years in seconds. Following that smile, in an automated move, his lips, the most sophisticated part the ‘God’ ever created, search for a touch. While his breaths take a voyage on my neck like a spiritual land ever craves to receive a monsoonal wind. The tip of nose gets the greedy touch on my ears bit earlier, then every part in the body senses to get into a form –spinning relentlessly trying to get an optimum grip to transforms the heat to each other’s realm. 

Then he leaves the bed in half reluctance with a pat on my butt. Then I get minutes to thank the ‘Nature’ for his sophistication in making a being for me. With the smell of coffee signals to sit on the bed and waiting to see his legs makes rhythms with hip and butt dances in parabolic linearity. You can watch those moments without picoseconds of a blink. That is the best art ever performed on this earth.

Both, the caffeine of coffee and his smell are as addictive as any matter created to make a man fall in love madly. 

As daily needs call upon and a hot bath follows, he comes out with a towel which barely covers the intimate parts. The wet hairs and moist skin adorned with the shine of droplets is irresistible to avoid an appreciation. If the word ‘perfect’ suits any context, then it should be his form, with its own geometrics and asymmetries. This brings greedier of me on him. It creates never-ending lust, a lust with an artistic taste.

He makes linear uneasy stretches while he dresses up. A clandestine look at him to have a gaze at what I want to see. There he makes a fake shy smile on his face, Oh dear, that tells the beauty of “US”. Run into him and flash kiss on his nose to calm down the immediate urges!

Then duty comes. Eggs, carrots and beetroots are on the bowl to make breakfast to serve him. This time he waits and I serve. His jaw-line moves in a pattern while he tastes the veg salad omelette, with blinks of eyes and hides and seeks of tongues. That itself is a cryptic poem to reckon, an exclusive read which only one reader can decode.

Then a time comes to say goodbye to each other, to go for our works of the day, to live a perfect life in a less perfect society. With a tight kiss tell how much we would miss for hours of separation. The millisecond after him left, my dreams start again from a smile of sunshine on my face and his warmness. 

NOTE: Every one of us has a genuine dream about ‘being’ which is logically possible and rationally acceptable. But the restraints created by taboos make us be ‘fake being’. The sad part is we believe in the fake wall constructed by society. The wall is just our imagination. When you erase these walls with your dreams you will be on your own being: ‘Human being’. You can interpret this note with the above article whatever way which suits you, don’t let others do that for you. 

(Thoughts are personal. Let's celebrate the differences. And thoughts are colourful.)

With Thoughts,

ShanahOM

Note: ShanaOM is the name used by the author and s(he) doesn't want to publish the original name, privacy!

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