The days roll over into nights and the nights roll into days. You wake up and find yourself walking, walking through them, just like walking through different rooms in a huge mansion. Initially, they fill you with adrenaline akin to a feeling of stumbling into an exciting adventure. A mystery to be unraveled. You walk on, sometimes the feeling leading to some kind of dread of not knowing what the next room has in store for you. Then you realize, the days and nights really don’t matter. When you get weary of walking you just take a nap, then get up and go about the business of walking.
At times you go and stare out, just gaze at the stars, you wonder then when was the last time I just looked at the stars and the moon or the sky and saw the beauty of the intricate tapestry of nature or heard the tinkling of laughter or felt the pulsation of breathing the moment. The moments are at times so profound and bewitching. There are some moments of contretemps and squabbles and then some of placations and harmony.
You wake up in a room and feel like Alice having a wondrous high tea or a nicely laid out supper. All lines come tumbling out like play blocks from a child’s cupboard.
There were two egg-headed beings, both wanted to be known as greatest…to quote from Alice in Wonderland,
“Tweedledum and Tweedledee
Agreed to have a battle;
For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
Had spoiled his nice new rattle.
Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
As black as a tar-barrel;
Which frightened both the heroes so,
They quite forgot their quarrel”… Well, the rest of the world had to pay for it.
The media and people across all borders thought like Alice.
“‘ And what is the use of a book,’ thought Alice, ‘without pictures or conversation?'”, till everything became, “Curiouser and curiouser!”, was it a conspiracy or an accident that triggered it all. Was there a method in the madness, or in The Cheshire Cat’s words, “We’re all mad here.”
Then you ponder, about the whys and wherefores, and say to yourself, “It’s no use going back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” And wonder … “‘Who in the world am I?’ Ah, that’s the great puzzle!” It’s in your and my hands to try to save us from falling down like ten little injuns, for,” I am a part of all that I have met”. So let me stand alone for once, stand-alone in isolation, and stare into the yonder out there. For your sake and mine.
We don’t want yet another nursery rhyme made a la, “ Ring o ring o roses”.