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Monday, 19 August 2013

The Middle Ground

She was senseless; her consciousness was welded deeply into her subliminal mind. She was not asleep yet the slumber had not abandoned her, it hung around her creating a shell that did not let her wander towards either. She was bemused about what was real and what was just a figment of her imagination portrayed as real. It wasn’t such deep a night, she knew that, so then why was her mind playing tricks on her? She knew that the constant drip from the bathroom tap was real, it was there every night, and so was the faint whistling sound. She heard footsteps, and listened hard, staying still as a statue she realized it was her heart beat growing louder by each minute. She saw the shadows playing around and then almost a shadowy figure, which was gone with a blink of an eye. Sometimes the darkness would seem to prevail forever and at other times it drew in light, little fading circles of white and cream. The line between reality and imagination had gone hazy; she awaited the reality desperately as she hung by loose threads at the edge of her dreams. She hummed to herself; a sole sound in the death of the night, as the night became her, and her the night.

-Momina.

13 comments:

  1. I've always loved your vivid imagery. I also really love the short space between reality and dreams. Those moments where when you wake up fully you find yourself thinking "did that really happen?" or, better yet, you are convinced something happened when it didn't.

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    1. I am flattered! Thank you, Mark!

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  2. Oh my god. Everytime I visit here, these are the words that come to my mind.

    You're blessed. Truly.

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    1. Thank you so much, Soumya! I am humbled!

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  3. "as the night became her, and her the night." - how do you come up with such brilliant creations?

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    1. Haha, they just turn up out of the blue. :P

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  4. Oh, wow.You are a gifted writer, Momina! I love visiting your blog. Just added it in my blog list, I swear I had done it earlier, don't know why it didn't show up there before.

    This piece will make a great intro to a novel or a short story. Lovely.

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    1. Thank you, Furree! I am overwhelmed, thank you for appreciating and liking it.

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  5. A random thought struck me. Why is death so often associated with night? Why can't silence be sometimes interpreted as something else, like peace, and not death?

    Anyway, this was a brilliant post. Your writing style is amazing. It captures the reader and holds her/his attention tightly while revealing your vision of the world. Loved it!

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    1. I've always thought of silence as peaceful however death is so for some reason so deeply associated with night that it's the first thing that comes into your mind.
      Also, in the end, while writing my perspective was not about death but a state.
      Thank you, I am glad you loved it!

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    2. Of course. I didn't say that you were talking about death specifically. But I guess, in the particular mental state that you were in (or were writing about), the kind of thoughts that pop into your mind are very diverse. :)

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    3. I know, I was only letting you the know the inspiration behind it.

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  6. Just found your blog, wonderful writing

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