sans wings, sans a copter, see i fly...!

look i can fly. Can you too? 

no! 

ok. Do you wanna fly?

i've got something, a secret, so i can fly. You can too!

i can teach you.

listen, i've been to wonderful places, of different colours, of various shapes, so alien, so exotic, on the earth, beyond the earth, so terrific, so huge and so small, sometimes to murky, dark and creepy places, giving rise to so many kinds of emotions, pure and mixed, but always thrilling!

generally when the dullness here increases and tries to grip me, consume me, i fly;

when things nauseate and people around look with stony eyes, i fly;

i fly when i've got nothing to do, and

even when there's hell lot to do.

wow, what a fun flying is!

what? you called me an escapist, I run away from things?

hmmm. i dont mind. yes, sometimes i do fly when i want to escape.

but i fly not to escape only.

i fly also because flying is great fun.

It's joyous, it's ecstatic it's really good and  interesting and its cool too, you know.

when you fly, the little twinkling trickling sprinkles of sweat on your face'll turn cool and you'll love that sensation, won’t you?

and if you've got long hair, it'd be great, as they'll  flutter and whizz in air.

what? You're bald? No problem, still the air will buzz into your ears. You wanna try? Ok. I’ll tell you in a moment how do I do this.

you know, when i fly i stop, sometimes, on the top of a tree growing on the top of a mountain peak and look down at the abyss below, my heart misses a beat! it's menacingly thrilling!

sometimes a bird i find there; i make her acquaintance and we race; I pretend to have lost the race and she turns happy and jubilant; still she consoles me. “Better luck next time.” I smile and then having made her a good friend, i leave, leaving her there, to see her some other day.

  

flying one day I reached a mysteriously beautiful place. Probably, it wasn't on the earth. Yes, it’s possible. You can skip the boundaries of this blue world, when you start flying like this, like me, like many others, maybe.

it’s wasn’t the day time for certain. Not blue, the sky was crimson with cloud-like things hanging like chandeliers. The edgy peaks of mountain-like things were glossy with light; the source of light not really visible. Quite possible they were radiating light on their own. But before your eyes discover those glossy peaks, the out-of-this world beauty of most-probably-a-waterfall will bewitch you. What flowed down must be water, I guess. But it was pinkish and it was starred with red sparkles.

my goodness! what's this place! 

while I reveled in the utopian beauty, I started to feel helpless. I flew to go closer to them, those hanging clouds, the glittering mountain peaks, that glowing waterfall  ~  to see them, to touch them, and feel them, but they remained away from my reach; i don't why. i wonder if they were all alive and they simply didn’t want to lose their purity, their sanctity by the touch of an alien.

for hours, in all the eight different directions I went  but the distance between them and me never lessened.

i returned with the image of that place locked in my memory.

flying took to me that land of unthinkable beauty. I know my words fall short. But still I wish I could have painted it all with the help of words but you know words are words… they’ve got their limitations, right? Poor words!

don’t call them poor, please.

i'm sorry. you hurt, you love them? Ok, i won’t. Words are something, i'll tell you, what words are to me, ... hmmn, let's do it some other time.

I believe flying is not just fun, it's an healthy exercise; by flying i mean the way I fly, right.

healthy?

yes, healthy.  Look there's something poisonous about many things that are around you. isnt it? it's affected many and maybe you are one among them, the affected lot, I mean.

it's healthy because the toxicity won’t touch you when you fly, fly with little care. it kind of protect you from so many ill things and their ill effects. 

i wasn’t that healthy then; now i am. look, look at me. what say?

don’t laugh at me. Ok I’ve put on a little weight and my tummy has grown a bit bulgy, but wait lift your eyes, yes, here at my face, look at the smile, right here, yes. What say now? Now, this is what’s being healthy. You staring at me? Ok stare well. Don’t miss its lines, its curves. It’s not fake; it’s got its roots rising right from the soil of joy.

soil of joy?

You don’t like the metaphor? Forget it.

what? yes all, yes. It's got nothing to do with your age. Each of us can fly. Fact is if you are alive you can fly, right? ok.

of course your grandma too.

excuse me? your infant child? Hmmm. let him grow a bit. why wanna send him to mysteriously great lands right now. let him first learn to pee properly and we'll lend him the wings. ok? Just kidding, come on. You look pretty by the way. :p

alright. so what was i saying?

yes, flying! It would be great fun when you fly in the bunch of white swans as a part of their pattern and when they reach their destination, they bid you adieu with eyes full of so much of love and similar feelings.

now to experience these kinds of joy, ecstatic and great, you’ll have to learn to fly. And if you don’t, you never find that out.

stop looking at me like that, with eyes full of suspicion. You’ve got to believe me. It’s no fantasy of a derailed m9d, right? I'm situated in this joy. I can help you fly. Wanna fly? I’ll share the secret.

now?

who said that? whose voice was it?

You wanna know. Alllllriiiight!

hmmm. You got to come again for that.

tomorrow?

maybe! So you coming again?

who asked me what's sans?

it means 'without,' dear. 

:)

(pix from pixabay.com)