A touch of the moon colour and this life will glow and slowly will it know of a love story so pure that has travelled a long distance facing boldly every storm that has become a norm, followed by all, the same ones who secretly, meekly hope for someone to rise, rebel and risk it proudly, showing the world that a heart beats in every being, a heart that falls irrefutably in love, in love with a smile, a gesture, the earth, the sky and the moon… all this life needs is a touch of the moon colour.
It counterpoised my anger and my frustration by allowing me to see the yellow wallflower, in all its glory, befriending a butterfly on a cold winter’s day. And when the clouds thundered and became dark, it reminded me of a wonderful painting, letting me feel the wild wind.
It counterpoised my hate and disgust by telling me that it is alright and by asking me to breathe. And then the rain shower, the autumn leaves, the wet earth, the dripping music, everything made me feel alive and better.
It counterpoised me again, the other half of me did it, and quickly I changed my gait walking on the same old path, quietly listening to the rain.
In a green velvety suitcase inside a wooden trunk she packed it nicely, neatly, firmly forever.
“I want it to be safe.” While the world rises and falls without any knowledge of it, she feels positive and shielded; her destiny is properly packed and locked.
Sitting cross legged she awaits the change, for the destiny to operate from underneath her crisp, fine, obvious thoughts, packed and placed in a corner.
“I keep in touch of course, why are you being so sarcastic?” She laughs loudly for she is confident of her victory and rightly so, what will stand in her way when she remembers to keep a check on the package, clean the dust off the wooden trunk and pray that the suitcase does not vanish away magically.
“Yes I remember, it is my destiny, I know…” She knows it all, yet she is afraid and waits for others’ approval and appreciation. Calculating the possibilities, probabilities, time and years she takes a step forward.
She did pack a piece of the truth in that suitcase, what is wrong in it?
She forgot to unpack it, she forgot that the truth evolves, our understanding evolves. What is destined for someone is destined and yet it changes, that is the rule.
The truth, the destiny unfolds when a mind lets it.
It talked to me and I listened quietly… it talked about the rugged old path that awaits coming of the travellers… travellers who are in the search for a new land and a new sky, a fresh start full of hope; the smoothened grass and dry pebbles, the inquisitive birds and the pleasant wind, the old temple and the thatched huts all count the footsteps and welcome the happy hubbub.
It talked about the decrepit palaces hiding its mysterious past from the sharp gazes, waiting for the patient one to stop by. The glorious lives and horrific battles have so much to share.
The flora and fauna sang a soulful tune, absorbed in it and lost in the moment. The jungle painted the sky with leaves.
It talked about the people, their traditions, their beliefs and their stories; that look, that frown, that toothless smile, that gnarled nod and the dancing feet spoke to me and I listened quietly.
And I found out then, how magical the ordinary is.
The violets, the lovely peaceful charming quiet perfect violets, helped me see the path that I had covered, the mountainous journey suddenly filled me with warmth and glow and I blushed.
I know not what lies ahead, but I am sure to see some violets.
Signifying nothing, says Macbeth and says it passionately, firmly, with anger and despair. He knows his end is near. All the desires, great ambitions, strategies to win, greed to own it all, everything looks foolish now when he is facing his death.
Macbeth is helpless, he triggered this, he invited his doom and unable to believe it he cries out that, ‘it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’
But it signifies everything, not only the perplexities, the complexities, the horror that the character faces, but also the routine dilemmas, confusions, ups and downs that any of us go through. And like Macbeth if we are in the wrong then we do strut and fret and also shout, ‘out, out brief candle’.
The majority which is not as ambitious and as covetous as Macbeth, the majority that has tied itself down to the daily chores and their precious little things, little things that take big space in their hearts, they, my dear, commit follies differently, they strategise differently and thus, are fooled differently.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, it will signify the same when another Macbeth will take the centre stage.
Look up Juniper, the sky is full of twinkling satellites. Bright, beaming and ever present, you do not have to chase the shooting star now. Just look up and the reflecting panel will bow down to you happily and fulfil your wish, before you can think of one. (9:15 PM)
Did you not ask for high speed internet access? I know you did. We owe so much to these satellite constellations, our relationship is based on the true internet connectivity. Oh Juniper, you’re so far away and yet I feel you’re here with me. (9:25 PM)
I mean the internet service provider, the company – True Internet Connectivity. (9:38 PM)
Of course, what I said above about our relationship, I meant it symbolically too. (9:40 PM)
Do reply when you get a chance. (10:40 PM)
Shared a photo with you, is it not breathless? That is the nearest satellite constellation to my place. (11:47 PM)
Nothing matches the real night sky. Bye! (2:08 AM)
Can it be that the echo listens and speaks at the same time? I wondered this and nothing more, sitting on a quiet cliff, knowing this and nothing more.
The eagle soars against the wind, challenging it for fun, gushing now and then.
The grass, the daffodils relished it all, the sun, the wind alike. And the clouds?
I know not what the clouds said to the grass, the daffodils, for I was wondering about my response, the echo.
Cassy the Liberator is famous for hypnotizing, just look in her eyes and you will know.Read the post to know who she is. Image from Pixabay.
Dear Clementine,
Mix a bit of red liquid with blue one, it is on the upper left shelf and then add a bucket full of sparkly sparkle, glittery light kept in the three vessels under the oak table and add ‘skadoosh’ and ‘skadaash’, top desk drawer… oh just refer to my notes and diagrams and make this magic potion.
Yes, no more questions, just experiment, what is stopping you?
Think about this powerful potion and say cheers. Ya-hoy!
Remember what I told you about the letter I found… and a map… oh, no that was a game of knots and crosses… but the letter was from my grandmother, the great magician… she revealed a great secret to me, the recipe to make the ultimate elixir.
Enough talking, mix it all and heat it up and then cool it down and leave it forever for a few minutes… I mean leave it with the “feeling” of leaving it forever in that pot.
FEELING, remember my dear Clementine, is very important. What you feel adds a different colour to every magic potion.
Is it ready, is it ready? But how will I know? Write to me soon if you are successful in making this potion – Dynami Tou Parontos.
It is Greek for the ‘Power of Present’. Keep the ‘P’ in capital here. Jim, your uncle’s little brother, made this mistake, but forget that and remember to believe in this potion while preparing it. Hmm!
Dynami Tou Parontos gives you the power to be fully present in the NOW, to see the bright light in its glory, to hear the quiet wind and feel the splendour of nature.
You feel not only powerful but also truly at peace. Your victory is guaranteed!
Whoever has used this magic potion, has won, even a drop of it leads to triumph.
Remember this spell, Skadoosh and Skadaash. Image from Pixabay.
Word of caution – the effort to make this potion should be honest or else the potion will not work.
Oh, how glorious are the tales, this potion has supported many a warrior to fight the enemy and the self.
You know Cassy the Liberator, she had used and still uses this potion, it freed her and now she frees the others (but she charges way too much, you know).
What is the mechanics, the science behind it? Good question, but I said no questions.
Oh, it is beautiful, being in the NOW awakens your soul, you connect with the Universe’s soul, boom, the Universe gifts you with tons of magical energy and boom you win the battle. Got the answer? Good, good.
And yes, I almost forgot, burn this letter of mine and put its ash in the pot, this will help you straighten your thoughts while you prepare. How? I do not know, my grandmother asked me to do the same.
Good girl mix, mix, mix, stir, stir, stir, heat it, cool it down.
And of course, take a sip then. Duh!
Waving my hat,
Magic Ciao!
CJ Star
My bottle of magic potion, only for 500$. (Buy from me, Cassy the liberator will charge you double.) Image from Pixabay.
P.S – Clementine, tell Mrs Curry to return my trunk, my books and Mr Rocky to return my pickle jar.
Endless footprints following footprints/
When suddenly a few of them rise/
To bloom like a flower.
Greetings!
A storyteller, following the ancient tradition of cave chroniclers, standing in vrikshasana (the tree pose) on a hill top (it is sunny, but windy), breathing in and out stories (relishing it all, but at times overwhelmed), declares animatedly that she will continue to – tell stories, share rare story gems, and connect with the pacy universe while also keeping the website ad-free.
Big thanks to my readers. Stay tuned!
Also, a humble request to the new subscribers to check the spam folder after subscribing. Silly (but necessary) confirmation emails often land there instead of the bright inboxes. Merci!
Ya-hoy!
Chiming Stories (formerly Home Chimes)
P.S – Supporting a storyteller is good for the world’s health (and undoubtedly, for the storyteller’s health as well). Shower some love by sharing, commenting and subscribing to the Weekly Newsletter.
Gabbeh, the 1996 film, is a simple tale of a gipsy girl, her clan and the way their life goes on. Unfolding beautifully just like an artist painting a canvas, Gabbeh quietly touches the grand questions.
Ranked as one of the greatest British films of all time, The Lavender Hill Mob confides in the audience, letting them see, feel, laugh and think without tickling persuasively with a joke here and a punch-line there.
Godard… Breathless and Alive
A Tribute to Jean-Luc Godard, the Film Philologist who Reinvented Cinema.
Yes fly! For walking on the second track is dull and usual, but dreaming high, high, high requires tools. Tools like the right pair of shoes, a chirpy, gritty soul that eats butter-jam dreams, a soul that drinks milky-milky creams.
Silver cascade shimmering the night sky, music to the waves and surreal beauty to the eyes, the Moon loves the art of discipline.
It may be difficult to believe for the Moon’s splendour defies time, it stupefies the clock, it follows the path of a dreamer, but how could this be possible if the Moon knew not discipline?
In this moment, I am a little bit of this and a little bit of that, I am complete and incomplete, I am pleased and uncertain, I wish for nothing and I know I have to wait.
Because the distance covered reminds me of the hurdles I have crossed and the ones I could not, it reminds me of a throbbing past and a dreamy future and it reminds me of how much time is left.
Meredith and the Green Lake
Illimitable Splendour
A joy so complete without any rise or fall, so free without any time corners, so real without true being false, false being true.
