Breaking The Narnia(Closet)
Breaking The Narnia(Closet)5 mins 346 5 mins 346
The sun shone over his head and he had a helmet for me in his hands, sacrificing himself. I have seen him growing up, so I have justifications about him as he does for own-self, if the requirement occurs; I can reason him and hence, those precise and short moves, which have become so going through a process, are not crude to me. The sun was right behind him, he stood on the other side of the road with his glasses on, balancing his bike on his firm legs. He seemed to face the front intently but he knew well when I was there or maybe that is how intense or continuous stares work in enticing the attention of instincts.
He gave me a smile, to which I do not remember how I reciprocated. The duration of crossing the road was prolonged, it felt so. I had never ridden on a motorbike and hence, I was disappointed seeing his vehicle, yet this fellow who was adamant on his promise of putting me through the roller coasters was glad. My enough of nagging could not compensate my relocated thighs and distorted orientation.
After having greeted each other, that I was not attentive to, again, because I was distracted by the bike and the difficulty that I could for-see to get on it and ending up being awkward somehow.
All through I did not notice that he had a helmet for me that was also his only helmet but he gave it to me forging the need that he might need it too in order to be safe from me and my snaps and taps on his mini-head. I returned it.
The thing about subtle delicacies be that interpretations are difficult in their cases, in fact, I would go as far as to say that when you even think of defining it, the subtle delicacies, you actually make it blunt. Hence, the interpretations are impossible.
There were those tricks that he played to frighten me as it was of his interest, somewhere, since he had the power over the controls. When you 'play', it generally is out of happiness; happiness is not a uni-directional stimulation caused by playing; Bidirectional, it is. He accelerated to speed his bike, initially, then left the handles at one instance, that I knew anyway would be done, also something that I somehow would not even on a uni-cycle.
I had the so-called list of the places that we were supposed to visit, that he had already visited, yet since his agenda of this time was to get me out and make me do something that I have not done yet in my life, he took me out. There is this category of people who are obsessed with the idea of keeping things new and keep themselves from trying new things to keep those new forever, hence they never try. Have you ever felt the urge of not peeling the layer from a new keyboard or a new screen, to keep it, to preserve it? Also, they hardly stay anywhere for longer, they have these so-called camouflage appearances made.
So, an unguided and geographically challenged tourist (to her own town) was given the tour throughout the way following the idea 'keeping quiet might make it awkward' for which she kept chattering on, while on the other hand, the innovator of the idea had already surrendered.
Lanes like that of a real tourist, I saw people worshipping idols with huge aesthetic instruments, the futile divisions of walking lanes for males and females where I insulted one of those in the end by tracing my path out of men's exit, several couples, the couples who were newly married with their younger kids on two-wheeler, ladies dressed up heavily, the mothers who were compensating the fathers, children enjoying the best of their rides, railway tracks and trains, alleys which seemed all the same, names of places that would not even be memorised, through markets that I had known, read tuition nearby and from there to another alley, under the sun, at times the roads were rough, potholed, the alleys following well-built shelters, from average built shelters which were followed by a bridge, ponds then and again a bridge and seconds over seconds, every second had a life in it, earthly. That is a major distinction about the people sitting on different seats, driving, and passenger; for a person on a driving seat, the time slips more quickly usually than the one from a passenger seat.
As we touched the main road, it saddened me a bit. The guide though relied for the list on an unreliable person, as when I confused the names, he had to drive me to the school, he did not even question about it and this, as a consequence could not make me any dubious. He stood there for a few minutes until I enlightened him of my assumptions, to which he just frowned a little and once again rode me back, out from there and the humor crawled in me as how I had been sitting there until a minute ago and he was so numb, also everything was so funny, altogether. All I could say and think was- SWEET. What else do you need when you can mess in abundance and no one constructs a dam over it.
In the end, the guide who was dressed in formals stood beside, keeping me to his left as I went out of claustrophobia, a little more, dropped me back home.
I wonder about his thoughts and perfect accelerations after getting quiet.
His smile that said- silly.