As The White Broke Through

Chris Carter Abstract

She was sprawled on the slightly damp grass in the wee hours of the morning; the time between dawn and sunrise, when the sky is a dull blue with white peeking from behind. Everything was silent, there was no chirping of the birds, no rush of vehicles or any sound of life. Sometimes in the back ground there was faint groan of an air conditioner or an occasional hum of a generator.



She lay there staring at the few stars that still twinkled in the sky. Her bare feet resting on the tingling grass, her knees bent. One of her hands ran through her hair that spread out like a coal black fire with blades of grass poking through it. The other hand stretched out to the grass, plucking out wisps of it. The world was just a blur of color through her partially closed eyes, like a water-color painting with one color merging into the other without a specified border.

The red of her dress contrasted sharply with the fresh green of the grass in the dull light. The red geraniums bordering the garden made a beautiful border of swaying red flowers. There was a serenity that flowed through the atmosphere. For once no fire burnt in the core of her being, nothing froze her bones till she was a fragile skeleton of ice. Rather, it was the first time she felt humane. There was no tug of war of love and hate but just an aura of joy and contentment that whipped up genuine happiness on its own. Somehow it was touching the light that was the ultimate solace that she had been fighting for.

There was a looming darkness that rang warning bells of doom and despair for her numb senses. And there was the dark past trying to suck her in, intent on creating a vacuum in her present. But then there was this; this happiness, satisfaction, bliss.

This was her final fight. Her mind urged her to stress upon these thoughts, to draw strategies and sense to secure her but the aura of her surrounding (or was it the light within?) It drew her into a slumber of its own. And she floated like a flail bird, resting, drooping lower and lower into an estranged stupor. For one there was no concern of all the deaths suffered already, there was no wake of fear for the future.

She slept in solace as the white broke through the blue, the east swelled with pink and peach hues and the golden shined upon her as people rushed about where she lay in peace.

-Momina.

Golden Confetti

The notebook crackled as she opened it, the paper was so flimsy as if it would tater at the slightest touch, the pages adorned with doodles and quotes. She carefully turned each page, as gentle as possible. She read through the quotes the rough drafts and the scribbles, took her time reading each word of those long stories and short passages. She felt the imprints the pen had left through her finger tips and leaved through the folded papers that were cut outs and written by a type writer. She loved each word, and felt the pain, the joy, the pleasure that went through the pages. A magic land rose from those delicate paper and enveloped her inside each word. The frayed ribbon book mark led her to browned pages. Pressed among the folds was a picture, the colors of which were so bright compared to the notebook, yet it held a dullness that cased in the charm.

She touched the photo and began to read;

'Golden confetti fell through the sky, as hand in hand they ran the familiar stone paths, two sets of feet padding through the center of the town, while the rest slept, fullfilling their well earned sleep. The abandoned bicycles lay somewhere near the park, the gathered flowers fallen on the gritty road. Others slept, while they ran, they ran though joy and they ran with love as the golden confetti fell through the sky.'

One of the many that got to her, she couldn't help be lost in those words and couldn't help the imagery go, she was stuck on it and stared at it for ages, until finally she turned another page and further.

-Momina.

*Note: The whole passage is self-written and based on the single picture above. 

Exposed.

The colors are blinding and binding at the same time, the black more pronounced and inviting, drawing me in while I try to open my eyes wide and take in as much of the other colors as possible. It’s like trying to breathe while the air is slowly filing out. I drag my eyes as the blue hues drape my vision. I thrash around in agony as I try to make my way to the center of the swirl of colors.  A sound so high pitched ring in my ears that I leave my grasp and go spinning back to the black edge; I look regretfully back to the rainbow as I am swallowed by the darkness. The obscurity prevails while I am suspended there, as if in still air, there is nothing around; I am sure it’s the end of me yet there is a calmness that surrounds me. Light, so harshly white that I want to be suspended back in the black; I feel exposed as I walk through it, it’s as if a sketch is coming back to life. I have the sudden urge to weep. To sit down there on the white silkiness and cry out my fears, my pains. I feel pain, excruciating pain that haunts me. The white is too much to bear. I feel the tears spring out my eyes, they are red. The red amongst the white seems so vividly alive as it creeps towards me while turning into a deep orange that fades to nothing while the white dims. It’s nothing.

-Momina.

Such serene moments...

She lay there, among a cascade of sheets, hands behind her head and ankle carelessly crossed; Days old red nail-polish chipping off.  The fan whirs above too loud for the quiet that surrounds her, the lights too harsh for her seemingly serene moments, the atmosphere to formal for her casual posture. She sits in a place too unlike herself… too formal. Her mind is another place to be, nothing like her posture or the décor around; it’s mayhem of thoughts, a turmoil of ideas replaced every moment, flipping out of grasp, exploding volcanoes of colors, rainbows of events, chaos of recollection. Such serene moments.

-Momina.

picture source : http://www.facebook.com/Urbah.V.Photography?fref=ts

Yellow!

I bought a new toothbrush, it's orange and white and it has a bit yellow on its bristles. It's pretty.  I have also been wearing a yellow necklace for a regular three days now, it's not extraordinary just simple. It has a sequence in its beading two small ones follow a long one then two small ones again. I like it, I like the way the long ones catch the light and show rainbow hues on them. I am wearing it on my bun now. It's funny how I am attracted to the color yellow whereas when I was a kid I used to detest it. It would get dirty soon and it felt too bright. But I like it now, it's vividness. I look out for it now, I want it now. It seems we need the brightness in dull days right now. I got a bright yellow bag almost a year back, our car is yellow and the only shampoo that suits my hair is yellow; it used to be the jhonsons baby shampoo now it's the yellow Sunsilk. Nothing else suits my hair. It's not my favorite color, that’s blue, but yellow seems to lighten up every place, attracts attention, and puts a smile on your face; that’s why smileys are yellow. At times I wonder why people don’t use yellow make up that often. A yellow lipstick would sure make everybody laugh out loud. There are so many shades to the other colors! Jade, dark, grass, parrot etc to green. Royal, sky, navy, baby etc to blue. Blood, rose, dark , wine to read. But to yellow there is none. No fussing over a specific shade, just yellow. I wanted to get a wall in my room painted yellow but my mum denied it. But nothing brightens up a room like yellow. Nothing lightens up a mood like yellow, such a happy color! 

Momina.

when it happens...

She got up from the bed and stood in front of her full length mirror, she had been crying for days her tears had dried up now but she wept on anyways. She starred mutely at her reflection; pale as paper, eyes all swollen up and blood red, hair all messed up like clothes. She hadn’t bothered eating either; the pain was too much for that. She wanted to break the mirror but then she recalled what she used to say whenever she heard people doing that, 'what do they get out of breaking all their precious stuff?'

Satisfaction, she got the answer. She wouldn’t break something ever, but she went ahead and did it anyways, breaking the mirror to pieces. And it felt way better than sobbing it all out. So she went to the kitchen and took out the old crockery set she was meaning to give to the charity, smashing it seemed so much more reasonable now. One by one she shattered the plates by throwing them against the floor or the wall. Her arm cut twice but she couldn’t care less, she wailed loudly and helplessly the tears floating in her eyes, blurring her vision. Suddenly the air felt so musky and dirty she took her throbbing outside where she somehow crashed right on the main street.

When she woke up all she saw was white; White walls, white sheets, and white floors. It took her a moment to realize that it was a hospital room.  She felt drowsy and far from reality but as soon as the door opened she felt as if every color in the world had exploded turning that white room into heavens. Like a box of paint had been opened and thrown violently around, only it looked beautiful; every color so distinct and bright.

Laying there all rosy and pale she smiled to herself as she looked into the eyes of a complete stranger who looked like an old friend, for she had fallen in love with him at the very first sight. He looked back at her confused and then came over and sat in the chair lying close to the bed.

'Hi, you…um fell in front of my car so I brought you here. They say you are better now, you are! Aren’t you?' he looked at her gently 'I know! The stupor will wear off; it's because of the meds.'

He seemed to have read her mind. He spoke too much, speaking on and asking her questions she couldn’t answer. She used to be that way. She was such. She spoke a lot, too much and at times it would cause her so much trouble. She had a wild take on life, nothing quite like anyone, always speaking her mind, doing things no one else would. Yet, in front of this completely beautiful stranger she couldn’t say a word; she could but she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to scare him off; she just wanted to hear the voice that brought her tranquility all so unexpectedly. Maybe she had lost her voice. When he got up to leave bidding her a good bye she shook her head quickly and held on to his hand without meaning to.

'Don’t worry! Um… I will call someone over to keep company.' He said then he got on to the phone whispering to someone.

He left her with that girl who at first she had mistook to be his girlfriend but who was actually his sister. With her, she found, she could talk and speak freely but as soon as he came back into the view she surely lost her voice. She reacted late due to all the medicines, but she responded by shaking her head, nodding or smiling with him. She could listen to him forever. She noted that he spoke meaningfully between sentences, he'd be talking of something so distinct and somewhere in the middle he'd compliment her or he'd say some words of great inspiration and meaning and she couldn’t react before he'd be too far off telling her something completely different. He opened up his life for her, telling her stories from his past and events that he hoped would take place in the future. He was careful of what he said and did, for him life was all about keeping his closest possessions safe and acquiring all that was within his potential. If he wanted something he'd surely get it.

He was so much unlike her still so appealing. During all these chats she'd sit locked in the trance of his voice, eyes and smile barely registering anything else.  She knew he had heard her talk to his sister, she once saw him standing by the door while she spoke rapidly like she did until she saw him and then it was the colors bursting all over again and her speechlessness. In all her life she hadn’t been as wordless as he made her. So different.

She was finally out of the hospital and he was dropping her home. They were in the car and the rain had left all the windows fogged up yet it didn’t exasperate him, he drove as calmly as ever, whereas, if it had been her she would have been cursing and complaining. Not now though, she quietly drew on the fogged up window while listening to his voice. He was telling her of some recent dealers he had managed to get into a big agreement.

'… I could see all the profit but my fat boss couldn’t. But I get what I know is mine, just like you, so I got them right back and made an agreement with them. And you'll see the profit that will bring us in less time, the economic values will rise and the demand will too…'

She abruptly sat straight in her seat for a minute then pinching herself she looked at him questioningly. And that’s when he looked right back at her, smiled and said

'You are, aren’t you? Mine to keep. Forever' and all the colors exploded all over again.

Momina.