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Writer's pictureAishwarya Jayal

The Spark

He would dream

Of a world without a star,

A single star,

Oft awaking in cold sweat.


He still hears whispers

Of them abruptly bursting out

Into a web of twinkling

Somewhat hazy,

Lumosity.


Yet,

He is bereft of the qualia.


He can still start fires.

Light surrounds him

Yet plays cruel tricks,

Staying static,

Leaving no sparks for his own.

Dying,

In ironic joy.


Cool dark of a sordid dream

Caresses him.

Silently.

Almost like a cat

Resolved to award love

To an unwitting human.


He’d made a BIG fire once

That shot sparks all the way.

And one of it's spark,

Had become his own.

Except It soon left

On its journey

Without ceremony

Or ignition.


The boy was yet young

And lamented not for long,

But stayed to

Move on

And create

New fires.


Two decades since

The then four year old

Still only makes stagnant fires.


Today,

The old spark

Comes knocking on his window.


A full life,

Almost extinguished,

It flickers in surprise

At the now man’s

Reigning childhood.


Recognizing the spark,

He let’s it in

And caresses it,

As a waterfall of memories

Comes flooding in.


Memories disintegrate into

Warm, salty tears.

The almost spark drowns.


Yet this time around,

The circle has no end.

And he begins

To stop lighting stagnant fires.


Lights that flash, are three times more likely to attract one's attention than those that are steady. (think airplane lights viewed flashing across the night sky) Between each flash of light though, there's a singular, shapeless, enveloping dark; until that one piercing flash stays long enough for its imprint to overshadow the shadows.


Do you know what happens when a pawn gets all the way across the board?

She becomes a Queen.


Every year is a marker for an end and a new beginning into the next. Time, as I've always advocated and believed, is not a static concept but a unifying language for us to communicate in. It provides a structure, at the least, like mathematics, to then compute for further usage. In short, what's 8 months to you, may just be a decade to me!


This Diwali, as time signals the end of a cycle and the beginning of next, let's reflect on the fires we light and the sparks we carry, our search for the "spark" and the indomitable craving to break out of the concept of "sparks" into being one.



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