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The lunatic is on grass

November 29, 2013

The Old Woman of the Hills

It was in one of those lucid dreams
Where I met the old woman of the hills.

She didn't speak much,
she just did what an old lady ought to do
to live alone on top of a mountaintop.
I was a visitor to her place
so I preferred abiding by her ways.
But while she was tendering fire
to prepare dinner for the night,
she told me about her cow and the elder son.
the cow,she said just stood all day
and did what a cow ought to do.
Whereas the elder son, she said
has flown astray with the winds
that came on the first winter night.
And that's why she was here
on the top of a mountaintop
waiting for his homecoming.
She had been there alone,
Lost in time, in mind and in her own world
She waited for something that might never return.

But while her mere presence
evoke within me, many a great epiphanies
and her story spoke of a lore I had heard once before,
I couldn't prevent myself from looking beneath her wrinkled skin-
For I saw memories (manifested in physical form)
that had taken shelter there, on her being.
And thus I said, 'Unto you, the world has ceased
for you are the keeper of time and of memories,
distant and distinct. Yet you are unbeknown to it.
Like a wheel knows not why to roll,
you are the one around whom the world revolves.
yet you shalt be unaware of it all.
It's the cross you chose to bear
It is something only few have the courage to bear
and even lesser few were worthy to be asked to bore."

"As I stand near this ancient fallen tree
by the top of a mountaintop
I see water streams rising upwards,
on that waterfall yonder
it is, indeed, a wonderful sight
but I'm certain, I'm not the perpetrator behind it;
and yet it is my dream.
Must it be your presence then,
that defy the basic run of things?"

Upon saying that I felt
a drop, oceanic deep
falling inside my disjointed ears.
and I saw a white beam of light infront of my eyes 
Right where She, the timekeeper stood.
She had shed her corporeal form,
and her voice pierced through my mind,
"Like you, I'm too a traveler,
but I cover distances not in length
but in memories and time.
And I needed something to hold on to;
A purpose in life.
and hence I feel
How happy is an empty vessel's lot
for there is nothing for one to forgot."

And it seemed like the fabric of time was stretched apart,
because it all happened too slow,
yet it all happened within a second
Because the very next moment I was awake
plugged back to life from a distant place
and Ironically, all I was left with, was memory
of the keeper of memories and time;
who waits for her lost son;
on the top of a mountaintop;
She might have been called many names before
but for me she'll always be, 
The Old Woman of the Hills.

Old Post. New Art.


Words drawn to life by: Udit