Ever wondered how a train moves there are vibrations shocks, noise, and chaos, unlike the mind I never realized when we became friends as it has the ability where I could switch between the boat of possibilities arguing whether it’s me moving or the thoughts just like the game of chess, we think there are billion of possibilities but only one is right and the game becomes more intense when it’s predictable like a tiger you wait for your hunt to make a single mistake just that one move of randomness that strikes with surprise something you didn’t permute and something which is going to decide whether you’ll be a prey or predator. The game changes precisely from that move, whom I call the move of entropy after that things start to boil you ask yourself what do I miss glancing from rook finding every possible way to attack the queen, trap the bishop exchanging the knights just for the sake of simplification you risk your defense as confusion leads unbalance and there among the chaos you miss the king that weak piece which doesn’t have any point but is the whole game, not a drop in ocean but the ocean of complexities abide in a single drop, no doubt in the paradox of infinite there’s just a 0 or a 1.
I wonder why it’s just this train, the train of possibilities that haunt in most of my dreams, apart from every other passenger it waits for me, yet as I reach it’s departed like it never arrived like it never existed.
In trains, I have always found a companion under whose vicinity I find solace under whose discomfort I felt lavished and under whose noise I felt relaxed like a symphony a pain for which you wish to be hurt.
The eternal journey is more important than the destination under the darkest veils of the night it arrives jeweled and decorated with a reflection of clarity and a vivid transparency to later realize it’s long ago that you forgot the meaning of both, slowly like tremors of pain it’ll arrive with a rattle warning the void gulped in the finite a mild echo can be heard in its steam showing the vibrant transition from liquid to gas yet being none of it. Rub your eyes as you won’t see but feel the slightest photon in the myriad as endless quantum strikes the only darkness among them the invisible light will shine illuminating the surface of fabricated time. Now with exquisite expertise, it approaches with the pace of a dry leaf separated from the tree and unaccepted by the wind, diluting the heart starting to miss the beats. Pushing in the well of oblivion where you don’t fall in the river of ignorance but levitating high in the sky of tranquillity diving upwards rising downwards biting your own tail. Getting dissipated under the deepest extent of uncharted cosmos getting lost in mist imagining all the incomplete desire and fantasies to finally awake in trance floating in mid-air still as cyclone shattered under the struggle of survival and scared not because of the apocalypse but for being unable to feel the consequences of it, I have always analyzed the beehive but the entropy lies in the sting.
I force myself to smile playing with emotions Love, Anxiety, Anger, Stress, Happiness, Laughter, Remorse, Sadness, Guilt, Loneliness, I embrace them never getting embraced back unable to feel as they say hollow from within. With divisions leading only to divisions I can’t even feel pity for myself, I can’t even cry, that’s the part of the game I call the stalemate. The art of detachment leads to the assertion and accepting a draw is better than losing but if you have ever tasted the liquor of winning you look at the board pushing for the upper hand like a drunk recollecting taste of that last drop of wine. The board always have options to surprise as the train changes shining tracks as the jerk increases wire tangles you realize it’s time for sacrifice, an offering in deduction
I respect the benevolence but I wonder what if the chain would ever get pulled what if the vacuum broke, maybe a gush of emotions will usher like a hymn, or maybe nothing will happen nothing at all and that’s the worst fear, not to be feared.
Vague and nebulous is the beginning of all things but not the end. Sooner or later the slayer will whisper Check and guess I’m mate. Fare you well said my train maybe anothers year gonna pass leaving behind memories. It was but yesterday we met face to face in a dream.
By- Kshitij Sinha