Tiny mortals stood powerless in front of a large backdrop. Polka-dots suspended in timeless time, savouring a lungful and enjoying the soothing effect of Mother Nature’s lull.
We looked on...as serene lavender lifted the velvet black, and the sunbeams spread across, forming a transparent canopy.
The night had suddenly given away a shade as She slowly started bleeding in between triangular frames.
The earliest rays of amber illuminated the summit and the blue sky began to blush furiously of crimson, neon and molten silver, which seamlessly transfused into a single canvas of awe.
As the golden ornament glowed through the white spectrum, permisson red, orange streaks and dark pink spiralled across the City. The seven colours were buried to the brim with hidden truths and answers for all of us.
The dark, subdued city slowly awoke, to discover what the Nature had planned for them for the day, their ephemeral destiny, as a magical disc began to rise, bit by bit, dipped in suspense.
The first sight of the Great white orb rose was like one of a pearl, after the crack of an oyster, slow yet steady and full of life. The red deepened and pulsed, radiating streaks of fire. It hung, like a luminous dragon egg below the rim of the mountains.
The golden red syrup heated up the quiet landscape, the emerald leaves, the dusty rubble and our groggy bodies. Suddenly it roared over the horizon and drove up the sky like a train engine, a lazer pointer, a firecracker.
Picasso’s brushstrokes had come alive!
The climb was with so much...grace. Like a ‘Nrityarutya’ dancer, an effortless ballet, and a swinging trapeze artiste, yet working as hard as ever, like the next door IIT aspirant, to display its majestic, magical coat. The climb was a progression from an infant to an adult.
Dawn is a man’s best friend, burning bright with what we confess anew each day, solidifying our desperate secrets and realities, yet spreading only wisdom. He just made us soar above him, in our heads, made us feel like a bird who continues to fly without caring about the fences beneath.
There is a dawn in each of us.
I stared into the fireball. My eyes were glued to the beautiful pink sky. It was luscious, like the first bite on chewy cotton candy. I can’t look away. I had never seen anything as magnetic.
The wait to see a faceless face, huddled in the cold was worth it. I could only perceive, as far as my ‘eyes without specs’ could go. We tried drinking in the liquid gold, as it shimmered through Makalidurga. We each shared a quiet romance, on our own, in the ‘candle-light’ morning.
The blue melted into the green but the amber shone bright, like red-eyed Sauron. Over the plains of Makalidurga, He rose as I had not seen it for 22 years. A big, cool, empty sky flushed a little above a rim of dark mountains which felt like a mortal shout from God. The landscape soon gathered itself from this noiseless alarm clock and fifteen mortals, a pale gleam of grass and a sheen of water, bowed down to Him.
Soon we were all part of a synchronised audience, listening to a celestial melody.
I wished He would sink back and rise again so that I can process more and grieve more but we can’t argue with Him. .
A wave of hope glimmered as we stood under the soft, caressing sky. I saluted the Wonders out there as the Sun had kissed us all.
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