The door was knocked. It kept on bumping.
The ice melted thousands of times. Volcanoes erupted along with. The trees
grew, some rose and some destroyed by storms. Calendars turned to chronicles.
Monarchs were founded and plundered. Characters always dimmed but the truths
never. The ideas were not the thing which can be hid or forced to do so. So the
emblems of reality lingered as before. The man heard the strokes at door. He
was not alone to perceive. The truths are self-evident. So it was not the man,
it was mankind who witnessed. But there
was no one to quote why it happened time and again. For this question was not
mere as it seemed. It certainly had to do something with their minds as well;
and no one was ready to accept the remedy.
…………..
The shadow was sentenced to death. Execution would occur tomorrow or
the day after. Not a joke. Most probably, the ship(1) would arrive the next day . The light in the
shade would be heavy enough to be buried along with. There would be thunders
and gales on the land of gods. An earthquake might hit them by its discrepancy.
So the think tanks suggested filling the whole light in a crock and throw
somewhere away. Seems a pun? Remember my dear, when wit is auctioned in
markets, such pranks take birth. These are inevitable. Not a long after this,
neither such wisdom nor these auctioneers survive. Just the tall tales exist
for cautioning.
…………..
Glom after gloom. Like an onion, every sheath had the same thing.
Darkness. A journey to nowhere. No signs of end post. Unaware of even what was
the starting line. Darkness is actually the absence of light. But the
travellers of night had just witnessed the dusk. What is light was an unseen
problem. So they continued roving in utter blackout. Kept on moving about
circles for centuries.
…………..
The knocks at the door will never stop. The rays of light will make
their way through. The door will be flapped countless times until it gets
shattered. To avoid disturbance, the sleepwalkers will try to fix its latches.
They cannot, but they will act eccentrically. Their bizarre activities of
burial of light will not be ended to keep the meanders on lusterless roads. But
the door will be crackled and unleash the reality. The immortal ideas will rule
one day. That will be the Socrates’ day.
1-In
Socrates’ time, the person sentenced to death was given the bowl of poison on
the arrival of a ship. There was some myth attached to it.
