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Magical Reverie



PART I

magical reverie 

He was there, I could sense. A deep voice was running through my ears. He was loquacious, and that was magic. A fling in the beginning, sparkle in those eyes, and I was in his arms. Long lasting was the feel, I could no longer curb my desires. So deep in his thoughts that I could swim by flipping my legs. There were no boundaries that could mar my glasshouse of dreams. That time, when I was down, beside me was the crown of love in his hands. I felt the world beneath my feet, for I had the luck of the world. Out of the window, I saw a dragon slayed. The dragon was full of life, and only its anger and hatred slayed. I believed he had come to my rescue, but no, things changed. My glasshouse of dreams was distraught and my reverie splintered. I could no longer bear to live in the tale, and the dragon at my doorstep was reality. The fairy tale I had always wanted, but had never realized that I had lived my fairy tale all through these years.

O yes, he was there, right there. A zing had happened, and a zing happens only once! 

magical reverie postscript 

Many years later, I stood before a reflection of myself. The waters trembled and the ripples grew intense. The dragon was still there beside me, holding my hand, his eyes reddened with tears. I stood flummoxed for the zing had happened but didn't last long. The mirror was shattered into a thousand pieces, just like the heart constantly stabbed with a thousand spears. The distorted self was seen, not in one piece but in the many thousand pieces. Destiny eluded from its destined journey, and my glasshouse of dreams was broken again. Only this time, it was no illusion, I looked at me who was made of a zillion pieces. Pieces of wrath, pieces of agony, pieces of pain, pieces of laughter, pieces of happiness, pieces of hatred, and pieces of love. Reflection tended to become intensely obscure as the ripples tended to recede. I had taken away the zing all for myself but the dragon loved what was happening. He was too happy to see what I had got, but regretfully he held my hand today. The zing I adored so much was in his hands, and with spread wings in the air, he let me go.

I flew with his wings, and the zing was burning in me once again. 

magical reverie post postscript 

I had taken the dragon's wings, and I flew over the tallest mountains, flickering my feet on the ocean surfaces, and nothing could stop me now, I was invincible. The chi of life was brimming in me, and I was no longer a slave, not to others, nor to self. Desires, love and wishes were all buried in the past - and they called me a free bird.

I liked the new name, and carried it with pride until the savagely violent reality came thrusting into my world of flying wings and swinging birches. I fell into a hole, falling deeper and deeper and deeper. The hole seemed like an unending abyss and its darkness blinded me. This fall was maddeningly unhelpful, for the shattered glasshouse of my dreams came piercing right before my eyes. A reverie that I lived in was amusingly real and unreal. The momentary escape into the dreams, into the wild, into a world different - gave me many tales and rapidly changed my perspectives.

The zing was too much to be real, but it sure wasn't unreal. The mind was awry and it was set on a sweet path, a path to find itself.

Many called this madness, and many named it crazy - but I called it life! 

magical reverie continued 

Life at hand was a great gift, an endearing trophy to be possessed. The treasure, they said, was hidden in vast deserts, in dense forests and in deepest oceans, but never had I known that the treasure always lied in the same place where I had begun my journey. The journey that was in my destiny brought to me umpteen epiphanies, but all were in disguise. I had to cut through my nerves, and the soul, dripping blood, continued to crawl.

What was I searching for? The treasure? The diamonds, rubies, gold and other precious stones? Was the self not satisfied?

It was too late for me to realize that the more I got, the less I had. Reverie broken within a reverie was all I had in my wrecked glasshouse of dreams. It was never in my destiny to ask for more, yet I stood below the blue expanse to see how insignificant my presence was in this magical reverie. Unmarred the soul marched ahead, seeking for nothingness in the chaotic stance. The desired destiny to find the treasure, for not always the gold and silver made the treasure chest. This was a treasure of a different kind, of a different magnitude of richness - an impossible journey to find the lost child. A child that once wept for the follies of nature, had now grown into a young woman who could sense sadness even in the heavens.

The route was mapped for the realized self knew where its contentment resided, and the travel continued in search of the treasure.

magical reverie beyond

The journey was marching and marching, and the search was growing and growing. Just when I thought that I was nearing the arch, it seemed too far from my reach. I followed the signs like the day followed the night. An albatross clung around my neck, squeezing the air flow, I begged to breathe. The damned spot that I could never get rid of from my hands cropped up again and again. This was no reality, and it wasn't an illusion either. I struggled to free myself from the curses and run away, far far away, but in front of me was the devil, and behind me was the deep blue sea.

I had nowhere to go. This was my destiny! A destiny that I had shunned away, thinking I could escape it, but no, the laws of karma bit me hard. I was bound to accept the real unreal, and the palace of illusions built itself with no effort. My glasshouse of dreams picked the shards of glass and rebuilt itself. A dream piling on top of another dream, the ladder grew beyond the heights. The albatross was set free, blissfully blessing me - and the damned spot blurred in my vision while the world became less obscure.

The zing, the search, the child, the dragon, and the wings of freedom were all paradoxes of life. The game was a search, not on the outside but on the inside. I had failed to realize this success, and soon I was destined to pursue a different voyage.

An expedition that would last long, beyond time perhaps, and I had to follow the sinking star!

magical reverie eternal

The expedition brought in explorations and discoveries, several eureka moments too. The deeper I ventured into this adventure, the more I realized that how less I knew of its estimate. The levels of difficulty grew intense, and my voyage consistently encountered barriers made of questions. The many questions that never made sense in the logical world, but in this reverie of magic, these questions were enormous.

Struggling to come to the real I tended to believe the unreal. The unreal was just an escape, a much needed break to the soul, and the musings lasted for long. This fantasy sat atop my distorted glasshouse of dreams, and the feeling was too pleasing to be ignored. As the glass came crumbling down, it framed back as my thoughts were building.

I learned that as I arose, I would eventually fall. Unbeknownst to me, the fall taught me life. The shattering dreams was a lesson that life was in the pause. I waited, the voyage was halted, the directions were changed, and the time elapsed. The journey recommenced, and the powerful silence broke again, for the pause was but momentary.

The travel was inexorable, but the search in the magical reverie was eternal.

procuring a new story from an old story 

O yes, he was there, right there. A zing had happened, and a zing happens only once. I flew with his wings, and the zing was burning in me once again. Many called this madness, and many named it crazy - but I called it life! The route was mapped for the realized self knew where its contentment resided, and the travel continued in search of the treasure. An expedition that would last long, beyond time perhaps, and I had to follow the sinking star! The travel was inexorable, but the search in the magical reverie was eternal.

PART II

magical reverie calling

The tumultuous crowd of questions in the mind sought answers but remained unanswered. An expedition that lasted long wasn't long enough, and the self was still an enigma to the mystery-solving rationales. Why indeed the mind was eager to know answers for everything?

The treasure chest was opened and the priceless treasure laid there waiting to be conquered. But none could set even a finger on this treasure. Mankind had lost it to no good, and relished in the phony world made of flippant hearts. An escape was calling, and it led me into another reverie, where I was forced to close my eyes and dream. Throughout the journey, that I had made so far, the experience had become my inspiration to dream on little things that seemed usual but too unusual. I piled my dream one by one, on top of one another, and my eyes were gleaming with joy as they saw the glasshouse taking its majestic form again. The dragon flew around, circling the glasshouse and giving it a divine aura. Yes, the zing was about to happen again to prove me wrong that it happened only once.

The illusion of the search in the magical reverie seemed hopeful, and the comeback appeared helpful. 

magical reverie building 

Amidst the pleasantries, in the aura of the zing, the dragon and I were reunited. The green pastures over-headed by the vast blue of the sky, the gentle little creatures grazing their daily meals, and the little winged friends fluttering their wings to add music to the already sweet melody, it was a paradise. A blissful imagination that lasted long for once, and I was too moved to question the certainty of this reverie. The glasshouse of dreams echoed with strings of joyful conversations and endearing messages. None could enter this world, for a kind heart guarded this house. As strong as those rough hands and sharp claws were, he bore a heart that could bleed at the slightest touch of pain. Red eyes with fiery throat, yet as gentle as a baby's touch, he was there for me always.

The mind was tricky enough to dissuade me from my actual treasure, and I went across the world in search of a treasure. I had created a hell in heaven, and the mind was there to simply witness the fun. The songs of the battles lost and won stood to make history, they reverberated in the mind and gave me strength to make heaven in hell. It was the mind's play after all.

Perhaps this comeback was destined to happen on the journey, and I was delighted to unravel the mysteries that were in stored. 

magical reverie revisited

The Odysseus in me took to a voyage that lasted eternity. The infinite minutes I counted while sitting on the deck, looking at the sail being favoured by the wind, and the bowsprit trying to touch the horizon - all had now become a part of me. Sins had marred the physical, yet the soul remained sincere to Gods that ruled the hearts of desire and passion. An unquenchable thirst with an urgent passion to relinquish the voyage, but I had to continue, for the reverie didn't allow me to wake up.

Once again, imagining the young Margaret who cried over the unleaving of the Golden Groove, I was back into the proper incunabula. Life made meaning, and imagination within an imagination was chaotically appealing. Mystery was just the name given to the most simplest of happenings. There was no mystery in any happenings, for they all followed nature's laws. The emotions that wavered in me were the real catalysts of making the world seem mysterious. The mind was overridden by the heart, and the wildly unreasonable now made sense.

The absurdities tended to recede and the picture resolving to take a crystal clear front, the voyage continued.

magical reverie answers

Enough voyage has been undertaken, the mind has seen the highs and the lows. Young Margaret is slain and she grows into a young woman. The world of desires reside in her destitute heart, for she has lost everything, the zing and the dragon himself. The illusion of the glasshouse was the truth, while she stood there contemplating the consequences. The shattered pieces of crystals had made life miserable for the now grown woman. Margaret was only a name for many had taken this journey and had felt the poetry that came along as a tune haunting.

I saw myself in the crooked mirror, saw the distorted image of young Margaret in me, and realized the crude truth before me. The innocence, the treasure was all gone, and the dragon had taken away all the zing. The wounds were healing as quickly as they could, but the scars remained as a memory that I would take to the grave. Millions of incidents came gushing in just like the untouchable heavy wind. The fling of scenes here and there, the many encounters stood there. I had but one chance, to relive and experience the zephyr burning again. It was all magic in disguise, it was truth, and the blindfold was taken away from my eyes, for which I was glad. The answer was one, yet I had to wait for time had always favoured the brave.

The magical reverie was intertwined with reveries of conscious memories, and I was too jubilant to experience the whirlwind of emotions.

procuring a new story from an old story 

The illusion of the search in the magical reverie seemed hopeful, and the comeback appeared helpful. Perhaps this comeback was destined to happen on the journey, and I was delighted to unravel the mysteries that were in stored. The absurdities tended to recede and the picture resolving to take a crystal clear front, the voyage continued. The magical reverie was intertwined with reveries of conscious memories, and I was too jubilant to experience the whirlwind of emotions.

4 comments:

  1. Haha, this is smart! :P last line of every part of the story sums up the entire story itself. *Applause* :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. You are right ... eternal this I'd what makes life more worth exploring other wise monotonous and boring.

    ReplyDelete

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