As I sit probing the faded recollections and shrivelling pages of old books sitting in the nooks of my mind, I can’t help but ruminate over the futile events that played a trivial yet compelling role in life. I dust them off the creaking wooden shelves and watch them sluggishly glisten crimson-gold in the gossamer threads of light penetrating the windows of my mind. With their sullen countenance, some sulk in the alcoves while others frolic and skitter out in the open.
These memories, insignificant in the moment but inevitably pronounced in the bygone days, rise, yawn and stretch to relive another day for the umpteenth time. They glide down the topiaries of life like gilded butterflies on a hot spring day. I wish they could be repressed and hurled in an ancient box and thrown deep down into the sea, never to surface and drift ashore, like the hidden secrets concealed in a floating glass bottle. Maybe when the opportunity of having the three wishes from a genie in a bottle, one would be to erase this minuscule mountain of follies indefinitely.
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For a third eye or a stranger strolling down the paved road, they may not seem unsettling in any way. In fact, they are comical and non-sensical, like a child’s play. But, I must confess, they possess the power to agitate unnecessarily. Or maybe it’s all in the mind’s eye as time has frozen still. Or perhaps, it’s just a figment of my imagination. Nevertheless, they form sparks like the tiny fireflies that illuminate our world and warn the impending perils not to disturb the tranquillity that took time and effort to restore. Before we proceed, let me remind you that no heat is emanated when they glow. Their light is as cold as the eyes of the Siberian tigers, dwelling in harsh, frigid conditions.
These bioluminescent souls, in other words, my intrusive reminiscence, are indeed a marvel to behold. In their many-coloured splendour, they do ward off evil and danger. But again, what evil lurks in the shadows when the continuity of life remains uncertain? I often wonder. Capturing them in empty cylindrical jars would be ideal. Well, it’s all in my mind. The fluid mind.
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