Pages

Friday, 23 August 2013

Suspended



She’s melting away in the white room,

Turning to stone while the quiet grooms.

A sole hammock hangs in a white painted room. Stark white and devoid of everything with the exception of the white hammock and a thick white carpet that covers the floor corner to corner. The carpet and the white walls are so perfectly match that at first sight you are unable to decipher as to where the floor ends and the walls start. There are no windows and only a single door. The room is efficiently illuminated by light bulbs such that there is little shadow play to hinder the dream like reality.

A pale hand hangs down the edge of the white hammock that seems to be floating in the air. The frail motionless figure whose weight presses down on the hammock is not asleep, rather absent from reality and dream altogether. She stands at the mutual edge of the both; confused as to where the reality ends and imagination begins much like the story of the carpet and the walls of the white room she lays in. There is no hurry though; she’ll stay until a state pulls her either way.

For now, everything is peaceful. Somehow right even though incomprehensible. Carelessness assaults her mind. She hasn't moved from her place on the white hammock in the white room. She has been there for a long while and she’s there to stay for a little while more. 

It gives her a feel of floating, her state and the hammock. Of drifting without moving, of defying gravity with logic. Or logic with insanity. Time lapses away; seconds, minutes, hours. A crazy energy drives her, fueling her with the strength to stay. To hold on; to her peace, to this incoherent mix of reality and dream that she is enjoying right now. To not be happy or sad but peacefully satisfied. This is her middle ground.

In the depth of her mind wild blooms,

There is red on the floor of the white room.


-Momina.

23 comments:

  1. I'm not sure if I can express them as well I'd like to but reading this had the effect of wiping my mind clean with Windex spray.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I hope that's a nice effect. Thank you, Ghadeer.

      Delete
  2. "In the depth of her mind wild blooms, There is red on the floor of the white room." </3

    I like your blog. I have followed you and you are on my blog list now. Hopefully we can be friends. :D

    miss-ridx.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Ridx. We surely can. :)

      Delete
  3. Oh wow, that ending. Morbid! Yet so beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I actually know someone who did live like this. It did really damaging things to their mind. Sometimes I do wonder what would happen if I tried a similar thing. If you deprive yourself of sound, and everything looks the same, if you remove those external stimuli...what would you see and hear?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am sorry to hear that. I wonder so too, but I think in the beginning it would be beautiful, you know? To be able to hear whatever your mind echoes.

      Delete
  5. Oh my my... that was truly touching yet beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Mind boggling at the same time comforting! If something like that is possible then it is in your writing. :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am flattered that you think so. Thank you so much, Sui!

      Delete
  7. You amaze me with your words :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's overwhelming to hear. Thank you!

      Delete
  8. Oh wow oh wow. You are truly blessed.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Soumya, for being a regular reader and appreciating.

      Delete
  9. This is so beautiful.
    Wow.

    ReplyDelete
  10. "In the depth of her mind wild blooms, There is red on the floor of the white room."
    How can you write sadness with such a beauty?? God, that's Amazing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Rafya! I am truly flattered, honestly!

      Delete
  11. The dread and calmness, reality and imagination, sadness and beauty are so wonderfully mixed together that I can't find words to praise it!

    ReplyDelete