Red
The blood on the streets that day ran red.
All reason was absent.
Reason was not to be heard calling out for sanctity
and resolve. The heart and mind were too busy giving into themselves. They were
busy giving into who they really were.
This is how it begun.
They found themselves in a hollow, the quaint sort.
It was filled with beautiful melodies and resounded of the same. The heart
longed to be part of a process like the
one they envisaged; but the mind gently reminded it that the time hadn’t yet
come.
The heart
thought for a second.
Pulsated once. Pulsated twice; and with a twinge of
reluctance gave in to the mind’s reasoning.
They continued listening to the beautiful melodies,
in the quaint hollow, that reverberated with anthem and song.
That is how they always worked. The mind was always
there to provide reason and logic, the heart was to feel and empathize. In
working together they produced hope and strength and joy that were most
important for living. They inherently comprised objectivity- the ability to
decide that something was when it wasn’t; the overwhelming talent of denial and
the weight from a kind of determination ,embodied in essence of the word
itself. They also comprised subjectivity- all that was unpredictable, intangible
and “in the moment.”
With that intersection in day to day living, a
balance had to be achieved. Too much of one side and all that would be left is
an internal desolation. In another sense, each was a coping mechanism but
mostly the former; because ironically its extent of efficacy and achievement
was somewhat subjective.
They had recently admitted a particular fact in an indelible sort of way. It was a fact that
had achieved a level of existence that could not be reasoned against, because
it was something so strongly felt. It couldn’t suddenly become untrue by what the
mind mentioned or rehashed, by the heart in some desperate form of unrealism. It
was true and it remained so. The heart had chosen. The heart had loved.
The thing is they couldn’t be objective about love. Not without
dissension.
You just love.
And so it hit them again and again without consideration
for anything. It hit them every time they thought. It hit them without the consideration that
they did not want to be emotionally engaged; without the concern that they were
very complicated and yet vital body organs.
However, on that day, and in that quaint hollow, he
was just there.
Among everybody else. Amidst the other noises. Right
within it all.
In all the
people and all the music and the noise and voices, he was just there listening
to the melodies and longing to part of the same process.
They were dazed and confused for a while until a
loud shofar was blown across the landscape of the inner being. They watched as
the inner city shone brighter and brighter and brighter and
then begun to burst with the brightness of stars and with the sound of
splashing shard.
It had begun.
The shofar got louder and never seemed to stop. They
were reminded by its sound, the every reason it sounded. That sound reminded
them as it shook the walls of the heart
that had become so much fleshier.
The mind had already vibrated into a puddle.
It all
started to hurt. It hurt because he couldn’t hear this unrelenting message.
They wondered if he knew or cared that it was because of him that their world
was ending.
The heart was
hurt the most.
It was angry
and sad and overwhelmed all at once.
The mind had no reason or logic to present this time
as the heart pulsated once, then twice, thrice and then gushed….and gushed…and
gushed….
There was so much red it seemed like the blood was
bleeding.
It felt like that too.
They sought objectivity, but it too couldn’t stand
the red waters of bleeding blood, revolting along the walls of the heart and
into the city. The painful storm of unrequitment had begun, vermilion and
everything.
All they could do was wait till it was over.
So the streets ran red in a mutiny. The heart couldn’t
contain it all and hated itself for it.
The mind was drowned in the merciless red.
