Alison's Wonderland Chapter 4

The Other Side of the grass---Mooing it!

The day was sun-tanned.For the soothing shade of the trees and plants that embroidered and enveloped our neighbourhood in a tranquility rare to this metropolis were but enhanced in their effect on our gratitude as the sun was galloping fast uphill.And it did seem as though the neighbourhood was taking a new hue in the wake of the screened and partly filtering sunshine.Two children were seen ambling on a boundary wall between two houses,each victim to the children's regular fiascos,not just externally as at this moment,but also,internally,
for they were the respective hearts of the two families that lived inside.
Both of the little girls were flushed from running and laughing.One of them was me, pale and curly haired ,a little on the dangly side,while the other one,my best friend,was the one with the long-flowing hair,brown-eyed and shapely.
"You know what, we should try bird noises!" ,she proposed.
I nodded my head knowledgeably,and added,"Yes, of course,but we must start with the crow as we can see them more than the sparrows,plus crows are braver than the sparrows,the sparrows fly away before you can see the color of their underside.I want to be like the crows one day."
This only got me odd look from my comrade.
"I know!But the sparrows are cuter!"
We had only accidentally succeeded in imitating a cow,which was loitering the fields beyond the high way,where we had secretly retired to,and only when we had given up on this feat.Stressed and frustrated,we had begun making fake crying sounds in our throat,one of our many falsehoods to get our parents do something when they refuse to,and that was actually merging with our original style of crying.The entire combination obviously produced the nearest sound akin a moo,which in turn however only galvanized the creature and we had to flee from the site,however not without the joy we had gone there for.Suddenly my best friend,became Agent001,which I can perceive in her pricked ears and popping eyes.
"He's here.Or she." Agent001 whispered.
Ok,I on the other hand was completely lost now.
"What?Who's here?"
"The one who did things to our playhouse,remember?The person was here!"
She spoke in a breezy whisper,that sent my ear-drums ringing.
But then I saw it too.There were marble paper dolls on our window,and loose paper littered on the grass below it.Basically our playhouse was the little annexed little room built to keep dad's motorbike,and his old bicycle,but now that we had bought a car,all of them went into the garage a few blocks away.It was not completed,and had the openings for doors and windows but that was about it.
Agent 001 and I crouched behind the bougenvallias,and I sneezed as some creatures even smaller than us scurried up my nose! We were in the backyard on the lookout for the mysterious guest who painted our playhouse in the night and disappeared with the crack of the day before we could show off our etiquettes.
"Nearing the crime site,I repeat,nearing the crime site.Prepare your men." Agent 001,Sonai as was her nickname, murmered into her hand-made (literally!as in made with her cupped hands) walkie talkie,making crackling noises every few words,that was beyond me.
"Why you keep making that stupid sound!?" I demanded,for a moment feeling aggravated by the sound again to follow up the ant-y sneeze with another one. "Hush!We're on the crime scene!"
I opened my mouth to say something...but thought better of it.
"I said prepare your men!" She repeated.
" I know."
Sonai looked at me reproachfully. "That's a command,not a moo.You have to do it!"
"And where do I get men? Only man I know is Daddy and he's at the office with his men."
"Pathetic!Get Mr.Banana and Mr.Coldsneeze."
I suddenly turned stone cold and offered an involuntary shudder as a response.
"What!?" Sonai practically spat at me. "He could be around any minute and I can't have my people acting like the tail of a cow."
That was a very strong provocation for a grin,we had furnished a more or less accurate research of the behaviours of the various parts of a cow and the explanations behind it,its stupidity ,manifestly being but a renovated form of higher intelligence, but resisting the temptation I bit my lips and looked away,waiting…
I knew she'll come around.
And apparently she did,and she ,coming around, looked into my face with an apologetic smile and patted my back.Mr.Coldsneeze had only suffered a rather tragedy of a premature death---precisely, prosecution ,beheadment for crime yet unknown--- at the hands(sorry,paws that is) of Sonai's kitty Pepsi (don't ask,I'd insisted time and again to change that dumb name!) and we had had a ceremonial burial of the headless thing.The head was found laid to rest in peace among the plant roots in Ma's flower pots,for which Sonai had offered apologies as also doubts as to whether
the people at the pet store had cheated her by passing on her a dog for a cat.
Pepsi's parental origins are yet to be detected.
But I was still left tender in that bereavement and domineering as she might be, my best friend was compassionate about it. She loved him too.And his ever cold damp plastic nose.
Currently I cheered up.And deciding it would be foolish to seek more attention than I needed,I plunged into the procedurings of the entrapment of the mysterious guest to our dumpling of our playhouse.
We soon gave up on crawling,not because we thought it irrational,which it was no doubt,but because the ants and more horrible creatures of the earth encroached upon us,worshipping us and getting into our ears and noses,not to mention marching up and down celebrating independence day all over our body.
And we thought it best to resume being bipeds again and pretty soon we became so tired of not doing what the playhouse was meant for that we gave up and forgot about the masked hero and engrossed ourselves in playing with our new waterguns.Getting wet and messy always gave us infinite pleasure and just why grown-ups contradicted us on that never quite penetrated me.
The sun was up at the zenith and we felt too drenched and drained at the same time,and decided to take a break.
We went into our playhouse which was becoming more of a restroom than anything—a colorful one---thanks to the masked hero whom I just recalled.
I was reclined on a beadbag,and Sonai was curled up on a rainbow stripped mat on the floor.The history of our many such idle days laid in a corner in a heap of crunched up empty packets of potato chips,cheeselings,Little Hearts,and almost every brand of junkies that had ever came into being.And in there laid the stories of many a day of fights over the turn of licking the inner sides of the packets,of wasted Cheeseballs that was either fated not to succeed in our aims of throwing them into each others mouths or creating an entire circus of them…or well,absolutely anything that can possibly be done with flat fragile objects and soft spheres.Consider that everything.
"I'm bored." I complained.
Sonai blew out a low sigh in acquiescence to it.I followed suit and blew a longer and shrill whistle-like sigh.And immediately sat up.
So did Sonai.
It was a breakthrough.It was more than a breakthrough!It was a god-gifted moment of realization of our dreams.The momentous accomplishment of many a long day of hard exertion.In just one second.
"Oh my god!Do that again!" Sonai shrieked.
We had made fools of ourselves on the streets,at homes,at school,even at important places like our parents' offices and in the presence of significant guests,and even more so, perilously significant guests,namely the old female aqquaintances of our families who liked nothing better than to criticize the younger generation ,especially when the children were not their direct grandchildren.Well,grandchildren are technically grand and the rest are ungrand,in other words,total waste of Earth's natural resources.Even I knew that.
And hated them for it,and hated them more for it was to be scoffed at that Ma
subjected me to the painful process of being shampooed to the utter displeasure of feeling like I was being de-eyed,as the foam kept getting into the holes,and it would've eased the agony had I not kept them wide open as if to see the face of my tormentor as I cursed her with all sorts of curses I could come up with,and that fear permitted me, anointed my face with lots of cream on my face,that made me sweat like anything and which I tried to lick off as far as my tongues could exercise their elastic limit and I looked like a oily rat with
watery eyes,and worst of all,made me wear a dress.
Nonetheless,all these efforts and pain was for quite a while now,unheeded and buried under the façade of my futile attempts at whistling which I took to out of sheer boredom,being compelled to sit there and listen to drawls,and during which each time I failed,I rewound my face ,sucked in enough breathe to last me an hour underwater,and with crimson ears,cheeks puffed up and blew out with the all might I could ensue to the ordeal.But results---1)intonation of nothing less impressive than a baby banshee 2) Extremely unpleasant guests and 3)Even more unpleasant parents to deal with later on.
But that never dissuaded me nor Sonai,with respect to the corresponding incidences at her abode,from persevering in our Whistling efforts.
And currently,this slight,this 'slip of tongue',this accident,and the conjugation of
Incidences that qualified it for a monumental phenomenon for us,little earthlings,put a happy end to our days of furious struggle with Element Wind.
But the thing with accidents was that it simply refused to repeat itself.It happened once and no measure of praying could budge it to happen again.
But,no worries ,for now we were on the track,the right track,and instead of distorting our diaphragms to the threatening extents of permanency,we now knew it was a subtle act of making the smallest slit with the lips,the tongue and the teeth.While I tried to recall how it felt in my mouth to whistle,Sonai assisted by her visual memory,of what she had seen.
But the sun was now riding down from its zenith and pretty soon,our respective moms yelled us to lunch and we had to part,but very happy children we were who parted.
At lunch I nearly choked to death,with a fish bone,while I showed off my newly gleaned ability.
Mom looked at me with a mock shocked look,but with a smile playing in her big black eyes. "Hey,did Sonai teach you that?"
"Nope,I did it,first by accident,then Sonai helped me out.She's pretty good with looking at things."
And,I sat up,spine erect,and commenced upon the story of the legendary discovery.
When I had finished with a dignified air,Ma looked at me with an affectionate smile and said, "See,if you could only do your 15s tables and spellings like that,all by yourself,you wouldn't have to get all the ear-boxings!"
I stared at her with a blunt look of bewilderment."But I didn't do it all by myself,Sonai and I did it together,hap hap." That was my half-half.
Ma gave me another affectionate squeeze of my shoulders and charged towards the kitched,wherefrom I could smell something burning for sure,while my mind charged towards making a list of other things we still had left to accomplish.
Swimming---Sonai would teach me that---,standing on our toes---we needed each other to hold onto---,making animal noises beyond moos,mews,and barks,---we could together make a cacophony of many animals at the same time,we could start performing at talent shows,become famous,make lots of money and then we could buy the latest model of Mindostorms Lego ---,spelling words backwards----I had already perfected my name as also of others around me,but Sonai had been nagging me to teach her,and…
I spat out the fish bone and slightly surprised but happy nonetheless,found that I had at least accomplished the completion of this lunch.
Washing my hands, I made a mental memorandum to ask Papa to lend a really large sheet of paper.
I needed to jot down the things to accomplish...us together...Sonai and me.And it was going to be one long list...
I pondered for a while,grinning ,however complicated things we come up with,accidents will probably shine our way...just like it happened with the cow...just like it happened with our whistle...and a a bungle of unfamiliar emotions suddenly effervesced deep within just below my throat,complicated for my seven year old mind,...I couldn't quit comprehend it,but looking from now,it probably was something like the rest of the questions regarding the 'accidents'.....the accidents ....just like it happened with our meeting....who decided that we had to be friends...who decides we have to succeed in whistling that particular day...who decides we have to be happy that we could whistle this very day?
I didn't know the question then,but,now that I do, I still dont know the answer.
But I did know even then---I have got to get that paper and quickly write down the 'things to be done' before Ma comes and imposes the dire torture of midday naps!
********************
To Trisha on her 9th Birthday!

When you are with me,
I feel happy,
When you are with me,
I never feel alone,
When you are with me,
I have someone to moo with,
When you are with me,
I can never quietly sit,
When you are with me,
I can run and compete,
But never win,as we run together,
You always run by my side,
Never back,never before
When you are with me I feel,
So very versatile,
And though mom said
I cant use that word here,
But I'm so happy,
And it sounds nice to hear,
And just like that,
I know you understand,
When you are with me.
I can do all I wish,
When you are not with me,
Everything else I want to miss.
------Alison Johanus.(edited by Ma)

Alison's Wonderland Chapter 3

Being her Alter-EGo.

That night came the phone call. THE Phone Call. Five of them in a row.
Four of which were blank ones.My picking it up was closely conjugated by their dropping the line. I cursed under breathe--freaking no-good morons! And the caller i.d. display of our landline was impaired too. Everytime a call came,it sprung to life and excitedly blinked and flashed our phone number. And I'd be like "Oh shut up, you stupid thing.." when I'm in bad mood,and in good ones its more like "calm down, we all know you know your name.Now keep it down,will ya..."...yeah,I'm used to talking to things.Inanimate things. Ma says I'm crazy. Papa says,I belong to a world of my own,which is yet another way of saying,---I'm crazy!
The phone rang a fifth time.Actually it hadnt even completed the first cycle of ringings, when I ambushed the receiver wherefrom it was trying to tempt me.
"Hello?"---a rather proscribed greeting for someone who felt like turning the polyhedral phone into a one-dimensional,no make that poly-infinitesimal point objects.
"Hey,its...ME! Dhruv,..from school?" The last bit couldnt have been more reduntant.Completely pointless,to be to the point.But its the thing about him,you have to struggle to be rude.
"I know. I mean,I dont know any other Dhruv.." What I meant was, ---how can I not recognize your voice,???Mellow...,yet sensuous!
"Oh,right.!" Laughter. My god,he has a great laugh! Left my insides tingling.There was something oddly funny and familiar in that laughter though.But I decided to concentrate on the laughter alone and not what it asserted on me."Anyways,The reason I called was,..um,--"
There it was. The apparent hesitance, the apparent faltering, the apparent shyness, conjugated with the obvious charisma that betrays no eyes. Male or female!
I held my breathe.
---To ask you out. Or, To declare my undying love for you…To tell you the moment I saw you, I knew it was you! ---
"Well, to tell you that…" I was basically slipping off the chair on my butt."…I found a poem of yours on a loose sheet, which I ,uh,think came out when your dropped your books the other day at your locker, and I kinda saved ya,--" Chuckle. Ohhh…---"and I wanted to tell you that I think you're a great poet!"
Not quite in step with my hypothesis. But still a compliment, right? But, what did I expect? I was acting like such an idiot! What's happening to me? I'm acting like Trisha's god-blessed sissy friends! As far as my concern for boys were concerned, they're good at math, physics and knew commendably well about cars.
I unstuck the receiver from my reddening ears. Took a deep breath, leveled a final stare at Trisha's vase, and returned to my call.
It's a wonder, what self-psychology can do at crucial times. Well, this was in my life a crucial era!
When I spoke again, my voice was cold. Chilly as ever when I spoke to Dhruv.
And my insides cringed at the permanent evaporation of that laughter during the whole of the rest of the conversation.
He said that he found my poem powerful.
I said he should work out more if he thought words on a piece of paper were powerful.
He said he looked forward to finding more loose sheets of paper with poems on them.
I asked him if he wanted me to tear out the poems from our English text-book.
He said goodbye, and 'see ya tomorrow'.
I said "Whatever" and "Think I'll feign stomach upset tomorrow."
Hey, what can I say, he was getting too close!
******************
There was a blue-bird
Of a dead wizard of the haven,
Who sang from afar,
Blue meadow ,and skies raven,
Where the wizard lived in daylight,
In the light of the moon,
Where the golden rings were woven
In earthen looms,
She had roved into his silver bridge,
But usurped by the old airless breeze,
The cold,and the wheeze,
Taking over her lease on life,
She stood at the hem,
Her eyes once opened,
Like a sesame mantra,
His blue-bird's song,
Unraveled a world,she dared not enter,
The bridge seemed surmountable,
But imploringly long.
The blue-bird sang again,
Through a crystal cage blue,
She could bare it no longer,
She closed her eyes,
To begin her venture,
From across,she could hear the soft mumur,
Of the looms,weaving,
The rings in the air,
Towards her path,they were coming,
She was on her way,
To let the bird fly away,
She was on her way,
To let the Sun reach out its rays,
She was on her way,
She was on her way…

The roof was wet and slippery and in my haste to absorb everything with my sole two eyes, I slightly skidded. I reached out my hand, and to my surprise caught a tree branch, that had sneaked into the space of our roof from my next-door tree buddy.
This day was sprawling across the seconds, like an elastic band. You think its elastic . But in real scientific terms, it's some of the less elastic objects of daily use.
Someone had rung the doorbell.
Salesmen.
I remember…
Three days from that day, when Trisha approached me on the phone, I was home alone, on the day of the hand-outs of the results of unit test cum parents-teacher meeting.
Mom and Dad were due in an hour from the meeting. My stomach rumbled.
I studied so hard for this one day! When the teacher would inform my parents that I was doing just fine, no troubles, no hitches.
-You won't need to tell her off…you can use that time to yell each other's head off instead!
-Thank you.We really could do with more shaking the foundations of our house with our screams.
-You're welcome.
That day Ma and Papa for once didn't have a fight.
Worth studying for that or what!
Papa ordered pizza over and with chips and soda and pizza,it was fun. Who doesn't enjoy a night off with pizza and soda and Cheetos and old horrors,eh? Everyone! Well,except,the company did kinda matter,especially when it involved being squeezed in between your dear parents,and have your cheeks yanked at from time to time by your mom and having to deal with moustache-y kisses on your soft other cheek from your dad! Man,I'll be needing some extra moisturizer tonight! My cheeks feel like over-used scrunchie on one side (for you guys out there ,it's a elastic band girls use to hold their pony tails),and like elastic-less scrunchie on the other! Ugh!
I desperately need a social life apart!

*****************
"Hey, Al! Ready to hit the books? Or would you rather hit the net?" Trisha had come over to my house on our designated Wednesday to research on tree-dwelling mammals. Bats!
I'd rather exchange sleeping with them than,having Trisha tar my soft cushions,whose covers I had hand-knitted when I was like eight. I was hoping upon hope that in the inevitable rule that all humans have imperfections, Trisha's would be short-term memory…
Apparently she didn't. She was examining a blue and orange one, turning it round and round, as if looking for a brand-name or something…like all her clothes had!
"Its hand-made, no tags." I blurted.
"I know, no, I was just wondering if this was the one or…" She picked up the pure white one, one head cocked at the lining, dropped it, and regained hold on the blue-orange one," No! This is it! "
She squinted at me. "This is the one I spilt orange-juice on, isn't it? And then…joked that orange-juice purposefully aimed at the orange part, not the blue…anyways..."
And I thought only I was the one who had remembered that minute detail! God!
I tilted a head as if thinking, then shook my head "Don't remember!"
Trisha blushed, as if embarrassed that she had let me know that she had actually remembered, a fragment of substantiation from her buried past with me. I felt triumphant. Trisha Bigmouth had finally met her downside when it came to… well, being a bigmouth! She shot me a sideways glance. I had pasted my all-time favorite expression. Blank. It's the strongest I got. No one can tell what's going on inside. And this, I have mastered over the past four years.
We hurriedly got back to our work. I tried to see through to her inside to know if the little snag had caused her much of persistent discomfiture. …but actually I was just looking for a shore-line, where the last water had thrashed, an insinuation that the old Trisha wasn't conclusively dead.
But she was. End the story. And I had too…till she had opened the book again.
She was leafing through "Histolytic Phenomenon of Mammals".
I booted the computer, connected to the internet and began surfing for Tree-Dwelling Mammals. Even the net was running at a mere 50Mb per sec! This is sooo boring! Even the net knows this is boring! Hey wake up!
An IM window popped up.
" DribblingDhruv says: Hi! Is this Alison?"
"Al_of_the_Alps says: Yeah!...Dhruv?"
"DribblingDhruv says: Yeah…listen is Trisha over there?"
My heart dropped down a few notches.I wanted to ask him how he found out my IM-id or why he couldn't just contact Trisha at her state-of-the-art mobile phone….but my ego took over.
"Al_of_the_Alps says: Yeah…wait,I'll get her…wait ok?"
On my summon,Trisha came and took my seat before the computer. And before long, was typing away at a feverish tempo…
Whoa,must be some replies he must be giving her! Trisha is supposed to be immune to sugared male talk. What was Dhruv saying?
But I,on principle,had taken refuge in a corner immersed in bat-droppings and the traditional courtship tales of bats! Rats!
After about some 10 minutes or so, Trisha swivelled around in her seat,and asked," Are you free for like,….".she stole a quick glance at the computer screen,before continuing,"Say tomorrow,after school?"
"Yeah,but why?"
But she was once again typing away.
I didn't ask her about that "free" thingy once again the rest of the evening. I just felt refrained by my prestige. Hell with it. My curiosity was killing me!
There lies a besotted cottage,
In the trees,
There lies the cavalier,
Among the hills,
There lies, that cold old bridge, that narrowing isthmus,
There lies that face, upon that tattered canvas,
The looms are sleeping for the night,
The owls are tentative,quiet,
Something is happening,
No one know not,
Something is not right,
In her foresight,

For there lies the falcon wings,
---Shed in rain---
Carried by the softened beams.
There lies the sore voice,
That sings of freedom,
From within the busy noise,
There lies the wind and the tickles,
Of the loose prickles from that beauty green weeds,
And in there lies that another girl,
That soul,who breathes ,then sleeps,
Who asks, then sees,
Who dies,then lives…
And the rings of light that encompasses,
Surpasses,
All that seems,just seems,
And that dies out,
Before they gleam....
Again.
"So done chatting with your boyfriend,Trish!?" I asked,in a tone,I admit was pretty taunting and bit my tongue,for calling her Trish again! I saw a flicker of aggravartion upon her face,or it was ,maybe ,just my imagination.Its strange but its a fact that the younger you are,the faster you learn,and again,the faster you can forget and replace that erased files by new facts.For we both had had different nicknames and many of them too,of which hardly half can I recall,bestowed by our parents,aunts,grandparents,etc.and when we went upto 3rd standard we decided that they were simply too uncool for us,and reschristened ourselves as the new and improved(hopefully---we did know upto 19s tables by now !) Trish and Al,and I remember neither of us would react or reply straight,if we were hailed by any of our previous dorksome names.And so we became Trish and Al.
Presently,Trish's voice brought me back to the reality.No,Trisha's voice,that is.
"I wasn't chatting and he isn't my boyfriend! Why else would I ask for your help!?" Trisha replied,in a prosaic tone.
"Oh right,I forgot.Well, I hope you didn't forget my refusal to do so? That is if you haven't forgot…."
"Yeah ,yeah,my memory isn't that faded…"
I deliberated a 'hmph' to clearly suggest my doubts on that memory part!
But Trisha swung aroung and in a typical Bollywoody stylesnapped," And what's that supposed to mean?!"
"Oh,what?" I asked,open-eyedly.
"You know perfectly well what! You think you're smarter than me! That's it isn't it? Yeah well,guess again…I think you envy me!"
I had meant to deliberate an open laughter,but in my haste to leave no doubt about my opinion regarding her opinion, I snorted.And blushed too.But then again,that's my laugh.A snort!
"Envy you? Of what? Wait,if you think I care about being super stylish or not being so,for that matter,you couldn't be more wrong! 'Cause believe it or not….it is humanely possible to achieve most things without it,while…" I twirled around a stray strand of hair in a typical Trisha-ish way and fluttered my eyelashes, to add drama,"…when that's all you have,…" I eyed Trisha up and down with a nauseated expression,"…it becomes hard to achieve most things…".
Trisha was opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water…literally! And I was enjoying it! Get me some popcorns, will ya!
Suddenly her expression shifted, she leaned over me,towering …with her 5'6" figure…over my puny 5'2" one…and for a second I felt intimidated!
"By the way Johanus,in case you didn't know….it doesn't work like that.You see,that worked in the millennium before last.Now however,preference matters…and believe it or not—" She spoke the last few words in a mock intonation of my last statement,"---Nobody prefers you,Miss Brainy!"
She hissed.
I was leaning back underneath her shadow,and remained so speechless for a while.
But then ,thank god,my denial swung back in place,and I yelled into her face," Well,I don't care!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
The two souls
Could feel no pain,
As one by one
Their eyes were stained,
In blackness bright,
In a dark sunlight,
They,who swum
Across the dewy starry oceans.
The rings of light had broken apart,
And yet formed in the air,the same disfigures,
But their shadows had different hues today,
Their inner children had incarnated,
Supressed by stories of the blues,
Tangled in their inner mesh,
Their other heart,had been one at once,
They had been but two buds of a stance,
Till came the other people,
Till the stakes were revealed to their blindfold,

When the sunlight burned
Fiery out of the dark…
But there in the other kingdom,
Sunlight was but yet a doom,
For the two sisters it was,
All but a moon.
And with the lore of the dead loom,
The howl of a wolf,
The cry of a hungry owl,
Blue-bird and her,they fled the prowl,
Forever,they thought the road went on,
Not in towards the same mountain,
But,
Towards each other...
She could see the blue-bird now,
Thinking it was a mirage,
But as it neared,no colours so bright,
She mused,could be a mere mirage,
And yet,the road wound up on so many hills,
But,
Hills,they were,not mountains,
Hills of sand,that a wind would conquer,
And rings to form with the reminiscent share,
And now and then she could see,
In the curve of a dune,
Drying,but still alive,as a prune,
The flickering hope,in it she tread,
Without scarring her little two feet.
The rings of light were new,being torn,
The rings of light,were alive,though yet forelorn...

Alison's Wonderland Chapter 2

Her alms of despair,
Remained a forgotten heir,
She had risen Not the man,
She had risen
As her Woman.
And in one last haul,
she broke loose of the manacles,
That had bound her to her womb.
She chose to bear her child in her mind,
Sibling to her soul.
And He touched her temple once,
He who gave it light,
In his eyes she saw the ocean beyond,
In his hands the rings of Light.
Yet Human He was, not mere Man, --- The one tangible door.
She breathed him in, possessing inside,
Close to her heart, close to her core.
He breathed her out, liberation to the air,
Rippling against a mirage austere,
And their lives respired anew,
And yet...the ghouls little knew...

It was very out of the blue. In fact blue would be an understatement. There was lots, and I mean LOTS of red around. I guess all the red enhanced the blue-y feeling...upto a certain extent! Both are complementary colors,so they probably complement each other. ..
Whatever! His name was Dhruv. Dhruv, the only owner of a black leather jacket at Bluevale High (uniforms at our school is an accessory to the rest of the clothing system. Everyone has their own boots, belts, and jackets, not to mention fancy jewelleries, and I'm not talking about the female community alone, mind!) Dhruv, the guy whose after-school activities was a topic of much speculation, and pretty soon, coming up with more and more innovative and hence, more and more absurdly bizarre ideas for spying and keeping tracks of him became everyones after-school activities at Bluevale. Not that lunch time was wasted or anything.Dhruv was a jerk-the-head-to-ask-someone-to-get-out-his-way, and noncommittal, and cold kid.Oh and of course, he was very,very,and I mean,like, 'beat the heat with him and get hotter' kinda cute!Extremely handsome!It was a hearsay fact that he was mindblowing when he did speak,...on some rare occasion.But what he could speak of was beyong imagination for people like me.He never spoke to his admirers, and we had suspicions whether he did that on purpose to watch the circus of both males and females over him. Well, I tell you, it sure as hell did work!
He had joined our school mid-august of my 10th grade. I had just one class in common with him. Physics. And strangely enough, he was brilliant. Strange because it just didnt go with his highwayman, super cool, image. He just didnt fit in with the nerds category, like, Milan, whose only distinction and superiority, I find besides studying, is in his tolerance towards all the oil he applies to his hair and all the severe abiding of the school dress code. Not one button out of place! Is that even humanely possible! Doesn't he like ever tear one button, say, in his hurry to get back to his books or something nerdy like that!?
But not only was Dhruv smart,he was ,actually serious about the physics craps. Well,so was I. But I wasn't a cool kid like him. I was a loner. I had to study to keep things cool at the house. But I hated it. I loved physics. But that was about it. I hated doing homework .It wasnt that I hate doing works, I just hated doing works at home for some bozos at school. I would read up all the physics books beforehand,but when the teach would assign homeworks on the same chap.,I tended to think of the most rebellious things to destroy the system. And that got me nowhere. I was still a loner. And life was a one-man show for me....ok,one-girl show. I would read,study,go swimming, once in a while, and surf the net ,twice in a while. And at school,I'd study.
The girls, that remained,after Trisha's gang had alienated me, were nice to me. But that was the problem. When people are nice to you,even after knowing you for about five years at least, you know they're not looking to get any closer with you. Its called being formal. And asking you to be formal too. And artificial. I go with it. And all that results from it is a strong disregard for their niceness. Hell with them. Well, the closest thing to a best friend I have is probably the five year old next door. But more than the little boy, I talk to their tree. It has a very loyal look about it. Cant explain it. So dont ask.
One day the Physics teacher, was deriving some equations on the board, from thermodynamics, and I was drooling and doodling in my notebook.
"Dont worry,you have just two more years of this shit."
And I practically fell off my chair!
But it was too late .The teacher had turned around. Apparently I had "huh"ed pretty audibly. Damn! I was just getting cozy. And that derivation would've covered the rest of the period,of what was left of it,that is...
Once,the man had resumed his illegible scrawling and hypnotizing scraping noise, angrily,I turned around to give the peace-snatching bastard a little dragon breathe. With me as the dragon of course. ..Only to realize,that not always does fire melt ice. Ice can extinguish the biggest fiery snores. Just like that. And it did in my case.
The speaker was Dhruv.The ice man himself. Reflexibly I tried to rearrange my expression. Unflare the nose, wipe the drool, tuck the hair on the side of my face,I was lying on,and I'll be as good as new.But it was just too late. Instead, I did a little sniff sniff.Who cares if he doesnt like how I look. I don't! At a loss of words.But I was a rebel . And gave him a portent narrow-eye. And returned to my golden age of drooling.Ahh...tha's betta...
**************
But um, what exactly is happening here??? Where did the tears go??? The rain had stopped. There's nothing more beautiful than a rain-washed nature....fresh,new,...reborn.
The ghouls had swung
With the swing of a rusty pendulum,
Back in time,
Before she was born.
A new star had come up.
Not the old sun,
The horizon was red,and blue,and green
And shooting stars littered the dusk ,sheen.
For once she knew she didnt have a rebirth.
She was born from the child in her mind.
She was born ,now, never to die.

I went upto the roof, to join with the aerial celebration of freshness.
I wish my name was Aerial.... I know,I'm gonna name my first kid Aerial!But then what about the second? Surf Excel?! Nah! The father better suggest something good. And for that I'll need a worthy daddy.
Well, Dhruv was perfect... I remembered that time perfectly....
After that day at physics class, I had signed myself out of his fan-club. I despised him. He seemed to think so divinely of himself. Like he could trip a girl and get away with it 'cause he was too cute for it! Ugh! I hate that typo men!
And I did.
I hated his guts!
He struck me as a snob. With head too big for the shoulders!I would pass him in the corridors with heads held high. I would walk by his desk and let his pensils entangle in the straps of my backpack and hit the floor,and not even pick it up as courtesy! I would answer him in the most chilly tone I could assume,when my heart would be hammering in my rib cage.
But he was nice. Always.
Once I was struggling to cram in some of the fat books into my locker ,vainly, and got clumsy and frustrated and the books went crashing to the floor.And I stood there "AHHHH"-ing.
When, the books floated right back into my arms.
No wait.
Behind the levitating books peeped the cutest face in the whole damn school. Everyone's eye-candy.And my eye-sore.He had an almost apologetic expression. Well he should be,I hate him. The least he can do is feel sorry for himself. I,the, Queen Cleopatra (ok,maybe,her reincarnation,but dont let her mummy know,might come charging after me...who knows!) wasnt talking to the handsome little rascal! Anyways, I was gretful in my heart.Only I wasnt sure it was there in my body. I was pretty sure I had seen some red something sprout wings and fly away....ohh.baby!....Come to mama!
"What do you want? Dont you have some hair-rolls to put on or something,pretty boy!?"I said instead.
"Uh,I dont use them. Why do you? Cuz if you do..um,they must be really bad!"
"How dare you call my rollers bad!??? You condescending no-good Mr. Know it all!?".My hands were on my hips. And I was only faintly aware of the gasps and gawps of the corridor inhabitants. I just remember one girl whose jaw practically dropped to the floor like Mask's does in the opening cartoon.Now here was a sight to witness and remember and retell to their children and grandchildren!P-a-thetic!
"Uh,no, just that your hair is all silky and straight, 'n' ...well nice, and rollers curls hairs don' they? So it practically has no effect on your hair...I think.I'm no expert..."...Dhruv's shrug and hesitance took me by surprise. Here was a guy who could practically get everyone down on their knees and chant his name,( even better,get them to chant funky modifications of their own names and add an appropriate tail to that like Maltnose-Hairylegs for Melissa Harolds,---hey dont look at me,its not like I'm just saying it,if I were him,I'd do the same thing!) which he didnt, and he was all worked up with shyness and timidity, and for what,talking to me. Me! Thats so sweet!
"Ok whatever it is you're trying to do,just dont. And my request. Get out of my face!"
Aw,look,I hurt his feelings! Why do I have to do that to everyone I want to get close to!
Somewhere in the vicinity was a smirk,that was only too familiar. I snapped towards the source.
Aha! Trisha!
She was observing me narrow-eyed...and,I had a vague feeling,she knew exactly what was going inside my head. She was the only visitor to that factory and was too smart to forget the mechanism of the machinery in a hurry. Oh no! She knows,I like Dhruv! But then,every girl does! But, I wasnt ...and,she knows perfectly well that I wasnt,...just every other girl!
Word was out. I felt like the freak people of a circus,like half-man,half-woman,or the three headed sisters or something.First of all I was one of the very few girls Dhruv had ever spoken to. And the only one who had scoffed at him when he tried to help! Speak,help,and being scoffed at. Three things anyone around would sacrifice their snoopy towels and new-age nintendo for! And I own the copywright for that accomplishment.
That day at about 6,when I was sitting at the dining table and doing homework, (the aroma of mom's cooking always stimulates my senses)when the phone rang. I was so busy with a maths problem,and even more in getting that cuticle out of my fingers, that I couldn't hear a thing.
"Honey,its yours...its ...Trisha"
Even mom's face was patently shocked! Now she had never had to frame that particular sentence in...one,two,three,..last four years! This had to be one significant event!
"Er,hello?"I tried to tone down the bewilderment in my voice to zero degree celsius. But the temp was simply feverish.
"Hi, Al."O.K. Now,for the last four years she had always referred to me by my full name. Alison Johanus. What the hell was goin' on in here?
"Listen, I have a proposition. You get me Dhruv to notice me and I get you into the popularity section".

"What,but I don't wanna----"

"I dont mean,you have to wear clothes like us.I meant,I could just take the curse off you by giving the other girls,who're not even our group,a good word about you or something. We could even be friends. You wouldn't have to hang out with my friends.Just you know...by name. Trisha's friend Alison.What do you say?"

"I say no.Did you seriously think I'd fall for this shit? Trish, you just never really knew me ,did you?"Oh my god,did I just call her Trish?As in without the tail 'a'??? And what am I talking about!? She definitely knows me better than...say,the next door tree!Like,Hello!?
That was that. We said goodbyes. She never tried to blackmail me,taunt me, or for that matter peruse any other tool to persuade me. Which I found shocking....and disappointing. I was looking for excitement in my boring life,man!But there was something odd about this.Trisha Varman was one of the most perfect packages in school, smart,pretty,popular...you know ,all that. I just didn't get it. Why,of all people would she need me to accomplice her on a male conquest!? She was perfectly adequate as it is....
Next day . Ashwini came up and offered me one of her trademark bubble-gums. Ok, not a bad start. At lunch,Don and Mon,( thats Danny and Mona,the twins) came to sit by me,and started a conversation on music. Thank you, music goddess for being so wonderful and unhateable,that I actually listen to your creation.I swear I will cease being a atheist for you!And pretty soon were joined by Sona and her boy friend Agni,and Asthha and Bidyut. After the bell rang, my desk,which I never leave during the break,and I have been using for the last few months ,had like a total make-over. And I could only look at it littered with crumbs and spilled juice,with a fond satisfaction,like a mother smothering her daughter on her prom night or something! Oh look,our little girl's all woman now!
A girl passed by and waved at me. I smiled back. Um,wait,I think I know her....English? No...P.E.from last year?
A boy passed by and yo-ed. I raised a pinky-horn at him. Ok,that guy was totally cute. And I had crushed on him last year. Only what was his name...? Jesus,doesn't anyone have a name in this place???
A third girl catwalked by.
"Hi"
"Hi...!"...then I snapped back.
Trisha! Saying hi to me? This has got to be a dream!
I stood there pinned to the spot. My head spinning clockwise and my brain anticlickwise. Dazedly I made my way for the enviromentals class,overcoming a little hindrance in the form of a bubble-gum stuck to my shoe-sole (ok,that might just explain why I was rooted to the spot even when my head had been spinning at cyclonic rate!)
Environmental science.Today was the day we begun our work on our project. That was the first one of the compulsory four,which would account for 40f our total score. Not that I cared. My only motive was to keep the thermodynamic status at home down to real low degrees. Class was to be split into twos and each group assigned with a particular subject.
I glanced around the classroom. Almost everyone had their fingers crossed and muttered some name---either someone they desperately wanted to be with,or mostly somethey they even more desperately didn't want to be with. It amused me. I'd be with whoever Suman Ma'm might couple me with.
"Okay people. Pair up. We're not going by any books. Since you dont get to chose your topics,we're letting you chose your partners. Pair up,pair up,hurry, I'm not getting any younger...or thinner!"Suman Ma'm boomed,to popular laughter. Thats what she does. She never talks. She booms.And she was supposed to be teaching us about causes of noise-pollution eh? But she was a cool teacher. But I was in so not any mood for jokes.
This was a nightmare! I scrutinized the classroom again. This time far from amused. Everyone had exhaled sighs of relief,Hi5-ed or joined hands. These days even couples Hi5s. Couples and friends are hard to tell apart. And I mean even in terms of only male or only female bonding!
This was bad. Really bad. I knew I would be left with the nerd of the class whom no one wanted to be with. They preferred to admire him from a distance. But who wants to get close to that! Is he even human?And what is up with that oil-mine of a head! Bush,here's an easy target for you. Bomb this dude,and no one will even complain! I know I wont!Shame his mom loves him.
I wondered if I could talk Suman Ma'm into making an exception in my case and let me go solo.
"What're we waiting for, lets chart our common times to reasearch this thing. What have we got. Tree-dewlling animals. Right. Are you free on Wednesdays?"
Ok,I wouldn't even "Oh My Gosh" this time. Yeah. You guessed right. Trisha. She had apparently volunteered to be my partner. This day was getting creepier by the second.
"What do you want Verman?"I demanded of Trisha taking extra care to pronounce that like vermin! I had sickened myself to my stomach,watching Little Miss Perfect twinddling with her pink fluffy pen and murmuring days ,as she drew out our schedule to put our heads together for the project, more like to squeeze it in between her manicure appoinment and a date with her second cousin. Hey,dont look at me,those are the rumours!
"Uh,what--what?"She looked up from twiddling the fluffy end of her fluffy pen (where does she get those?CottonCandys-r-Us?),absently.
"You know what I mean? What are you doing? Why are you partnering ME? I'm not dumb! I see---"
"Okay! Okay! ...Jes..."She coughed. And doubled up. I had stretched out my hands reflexibly,but she left her chair and retreated towards the wall,facing it,while the bout abated.
"Excuse me!"Her composure was back in place,despite the bright scarlet patches on her face from the pressure.Then she gave me a odd look. And began,"Ok,I want Dhruv,is that what you wanted to hear? Fine,there it is. Right in the open.Ya happy now?"

"Yes,I mean,NO! Thats not the point! I told you I am NOT interested.So you can stop being all nice to me,cuz it wont work a shit.And---" I unncessarily raised the sheet of paper she was working on and replaced it about two abscissa away from its orginal coordinates, "----and you can take your project and join your skimpy friend over there. Cuz ,whatever you're trying to do ain't gonna work." was getting worked up and melodramatic.Whew!
"No,I'm not."

"Yeah right! How dumb do you think I am exac--"
"I meant"She cut in, "---that I'm not going to do the project with my skimpy friend...."
"Oh? Oh!"O.K. That caught me off-guard.I weighed my options. On one hand,working with Trisha would eliminate the dire likelihood of having to survive one month trapped with a oil-tanker. On the other,I had a eerie feeling about this whole Trisha's come-back.If this is a come-back at all that is... It was official. This day couldn't possibly get more confusing. And even more...fateful.
*******************
She stepped across.
Through the frozen fire,
Past the blue moors,
Over the red hillocks,
Onto the sandy shores,
She had stepped across.
Into a world of the quaint.
Where the dire would paint,
And the fairies would water her temple-tree.
That hand she had held,
On her lover's trail,
It had no name, just a futurity.
It had no address,just the present touch,
It had no kin,
Just a home-coming past.
And she awaited till the day would be,
She could walk barefoot over the sea,
She could feel the windy graze,
And she would know,
At the heart of her maze,
She was,she wasn't a mere she,
She was on the porch,today,
Come what day ,may,
Come she had, on the porch of her destiny.
Had no one felt this way before?
When today seem to slowly unfold,
When the carpet would roll,
Down the stairs
, Land at your feet in a single layer?
Like the future and past ,
Her all firsts and lasts,
Her known and unknown,
Her mown and unsown,
All at a flicker,
Would threat and dare,
And love and laugh,
In one single flare.
That drizzle would then seem fateful,
And that soft fall of the petal...
That she wished she could have held,
With its sisters,in her palm.
And in her palm,the world,for her,
Would seem to graze,the world around the worlds,
And on her day, she is a world,
A woman,a girl, And right now,right today,
Come what may,
Shut out your vision and you will see,
You are at the porch of your destiny.

Alison's Wonderland Chapter 1

Part I

There was void.And a bouyancy so exhuberant that it overpowered common perceptions...but as though the upthrust was just not enough to sustain my existence,on clouds, # 8,9,10...., in the air,over the earth. And to let me fly. Away...

There was this nagging feeling at the beck of my head, a yearning,a itching of unsprouted wings,like a feeling i could rise...and I had. I had to have had risen above it all.Without The Rise, I would'nt have had been where I was. But where was I???

At the centre of my bed reigning my own little Empire. My Queendom.

I cast about on my subjects. There was the dog-eared poster of Leo di Caprio,I used to dream of every night for 12 months, followin' the titanic invasion of the Titanic! I'd unfairly swap places with Rose and would dream on till the scene of Jack sketching Rose in the saphhire locket and....( we all know the scene!) when i'd wake up with a start to realise i was such a preteen that not even doggies would turn cockeyed if I walked 'round topless.

The memory was so embarrassing ,it was almost anecdotally funny!

Then there was the distorted and polka-dotted flower vase,a gift from my best friend,or should I say former best friend, Trisha, as a heart-candy cuz we had had a fight when she as the director had given me the lousiest part in the school-play 'Merchant of venice'. I was to be some butcher!!! Moi! Ahh ! I could only imagine myself in the place of the pretty damsel...I had alleged her of trying to satisfy the new kids so she could become one of the 'in-crowd's . But later I had come to the dawning that I was simply a bad actress. Now I revert to my previous conviction.

And another conviction. Kids are smart and maybe teens are smarter. But hormones retard their thoughts. I was a common emotional fool. I am now a bigger one. Fact is, I was always a lover at heart...be it my mom 'n' dad, or Trisha or, the tree next door.

I blinked. Some warm thingy was tricklin' down my cheeks. God knows where they come from..or more like why they come! But on blinking I became aware of the fact that my vision had slowly blurred out and now the vase swam back in clearer focus.

I remembered. It was an artclass project that Trisha had sacrificed for me...and had gotten punished later ,accused of not doin her classwork! My sweetest friend! And those trickly goo,whatever their chemical composition be, had again invaded my cheeks when she gave me the vase and a bare-hug...or maybe it should be a bare-hug and then the vase...gah! I dont know...which comes first! Both had the same effect on my wet cheeks!

I turned my eyes away. They fixed upon rings of light in the shadow of the carved ventilator of my room,their penumbras overlapping 'n' all---staring back at me with a pregnant glare.

She tossed askew the lace of light,

Into the darkness of the night,

Away from her,

They fromed in the air,

Rings of glare,

Like tigress eyes.

Her Sorceress had risen to the shore,

With a potion for lust ,for love,at core,

Her heart ,a broke tramp at ease,

Yearning for a life at home,at peace.

There was the storm again. Like some animal rearing to break free...and pounce upon its captivator. Bellowing with rage and then breaking forth with a force that could destroy the world down to every nucleus. Mother Nature's rage for the cruelty her soft curves were subjected to...

There were the hurried snap-shuts of windows of the neighboring houses. But my window was open. As ever. The Window. The wind tortured her, it slammed to and fro in its hinge. The wind then whoosed in and attacked Leo's poster. It hesitated for a while ,then flew out and got entangled in the maternal embrace of the curtains.Smothering it. Lest it leaves nest forever.I watched it play. Or fight. For war is a game. For those who love to play it big.Or perhaps for the claustrophibic sickos (the kinda people who had to be rushed to the hospital when they were locked into a closet with a girl to carry out the marginal instructions of a game of spin-d-bottle)playgrounds greater than or equal to the battlefields sufficed.

The velocity of the wind had risen to mor ethan some 300 miles/hour. As the radio claimed. 'Quit with the news! bring on the music!'--I shouted to the mindless box.The news had been goin' on for an hour now! The headlines,the sports scoop, the interview of some bighead, and now the weather report. They had really skipped the forcasts,probably 'cause they never came true. I snickered momentarily in triumph of god knows what. I turned the knob clockwise,then anitclockwise. White noise...white noise and more white noise. Just one station was still surviving. At least bring on Destiny's Child "Survivor"...!!!! Grrr..

Smash!

I snapped around on cue, and immediately felt my heart shatter. The vase...it had broken in infinitesimal pieces. It was now what it began with. A heap of earth.

I stooped over the litter. And saw it gradually become wet. The warm trickly things.

It however struck me like a post-omen.

Trisha was long evacuated from my wildlife scenario.

Its strange how time can alter people's lives. And the people themselves.

Simply strange.



She was fleeing through the trees,

Past an airless breeze,

Away from the cries,

Away from her demise...

Once she had died,

And a lone wolf cried,

When she knew the song they played,

For each time she was ...dead.

She knew it by heart,She sung it out loud,

And out they came like,

Like a raging hive,

Of bees at war,

Knowing that they they had buried her alive.

Out they came,

With a hiss and buzz,

Out they came,

To bury her again.

So this must be how crying feels like eh!?...And these things must be tears! Now there's always a lesson to learn.

The bubbling was increasing with time,under surface in my throat, ...I have never really cried out loud. And it alwaus gives me the goosebumps to hear the glycerine-fed howling cries of the actresses and...now,even actors! Man, is the world going to the dumps or what!Men shouldn't cry. Its not because they are supposed to be emotionally strong or anything...more like emotionally deficient,which is the case for most of those nutters,...but they just...look hideous! Like some overgrown baby with all the wrinkles intact and add heavy jaws and hairiness to that. Get the picture? Ugh, Say, like GROSS!

Anyways,I'm no expert on crying. I just feel these warm water on my cheeks,and I shouldn't even be commenting on others' crying tactics, especially a whole species! I might look like a baby chimp,although i do think they're pretty cute!

Ok,I'll quit talking rubbish! The reason I'm doing is to evade the possibility of facing another bout of looking like a chimpo babe...

You wanna know what I'm really thinking about!?

I'm not just thinking it. I'm living that moment at this very moment dammit!

Trisha had been standing out in the corridor as per the art teacher's instruction for not turning in her vase. She would'nt let me submit itfor the nuts for her,and was safely tucked away in my locker.When the bell rang,and she came back in, I couldn't believe my eyes. She was not only NOT frowning or mad or even rebelliously enraged at the almost corporal punishment, but was smirking,like she had won the marathon race or something."And what are you smilin' 'bout?" I asked.

"Nuthin'".

"yeah right. I know you're not smilin' about embarrassin yourself in fron' o' the whole class ,I know!".

"Ok,you wanna know. I'm smiling cuz...this is probably my best punushment time ever!!! ...hm, and you know what else..I jus' realised...."

Blush,hesitance,toe-drawing arcs on the ground....

"...that there's just something else about getting back friends I almost lost. Something...I dont know...something ice-creamy! Which reminds me...lets go shopping at the mall today. What do you say,girlfriend!?"

I said yes.

Yes, there surely is nothing I look forward to than healing a lost friendship.

If that person was still alive that is.

The girl has had a rebirth.

She's a prancing youngster who's latest dialogue was "Hair emergency,call 911. Gimme your spray,mine is lost. You know you'll need my stuff someday. So gimme your spray today."....*sigh*...well,thats not the Trisha I knew. Or want back.

See,its not like I didn't try or anything. When her affinity for the " Saz Sisters" I was a bit tensed,but I ofrced the belief, that friendship can feed on love itself,that it needed no common interests,or even lotsa quality time together. But,see the problem was,I had just shed my emotional hide and had signed up for the ride uphill to the House of Emotional Fools. Hormone driven. Blinded by Faith. Obstructed by Love.But even best friends cannot survive the one thing that fuels the Social Engine. Discrimination. Division.Down with it all. The morons who rule the world. The biggest morons of the world,the ones who think they're soooo divine they could almost fly,--the Superiors. And then there are always those dumb ones who suffer from acute need of a mirror ,so they could just for once look into their faces and see they look exactly like the gods they worship--the Inferiors. Finally,for this equilibrium reaction we need the one thing,the catalyst. In other words,the nobodys who lay back and feel absolutely happy being nobodys,as long as they have enough food and water,who needs dreams!

But there are always people like me,the Rebels. The Outcasts. The ones who are beyond the perimeters of categorisation...

And thats not a condescending statement. Its a depression I have to go through every single day. Every 24 hours. Every 86400 seconds....

But Trisha created this me. I was a nobody before. Now,I'm a rebel. For every other negatives, I'm somebody! And thats still something...

You might be wondering how Trisha could've possibly had any touch in this art. Well, when she left me forever, which isnt exactly a real time,real date, "when"...I was forced out of my life-long faith in friendship. I detached myself from my all-frienderness. I became a loner. And that left me to spend some more quality time with me. I became my own best friend.

In short, I discoverd the Me in me.

And this was the best thing that could happen to me.

By becoming me...I became a Someone, and by becomin that Someone, I became the One for someone, who eventually became My One! Make sense? Well,lemme simplify. I met him. And when I say "met"...I mean...it was the grand,all-time high, unforgettable union of body and mind...when our eyes met, and our hearts,and our souls,...and our lives.And We became SomeTwos.

A broken doll fell to the floor,

A cracked tear in her eyes she bore,

A ghost of tremble in her smilimg lips,

Within the walls where she sleeps,

They watched her,

Trying to read her mind,

As a baleful wind ruffled her hair,

Trying to seep into the dome they bind.

But death had worshipped her slumber,

Endorsed her mirror with a hued picture.

As a child she had urged upon Heaven

To be with her loved and loving,

But Today she craved for a place in the inferno,

Where her colors red,may stay ,not go.

And she prayed for a last look at life,

So she could find the glass,she would hide,

She prayed she could never love again,

Under the sun,never smell the rain.

In her darkness, she found the rings of light ,

Circles of path, like the last spring tide.

Outside amidst the laughter and trill,

Amidst her cremation, came a neighing shrill.

With a drizzle and a whip, the ghouls turned to see,

The Human had come to his sleeping beauty