Other Blue

রিক্তা's picture
Submitted by rikta [Guest] on Tue, 31/07/2018 - 10:20pm

Great feeling usually starts with  a great desperation. Like always this four-year-old was up for 14 hours straight. I love him from his toenail to sharp tips of his teeth and every time he laughs my heart misses a beat, cortisol level goes down. But tomorrow is a Monday and it is 8:45PM. So I packed him in a stroller and went for a desperate walk.

Good thing about living Canada is in summer we truly feel how blessed we are. it feels unreal to see birds are chirping or flying around after the way too long snow covered silent winter. Like fairy tales bunnies are hopping from the bushes. few children and toddlers are out for their late night adventure. Air is fragrant with flower blooms (I wish I could use F word effortlessly to express my amazement, but it does not come to me naturally or even unnaturally so I am letting it go).

Nine long years here, and still every summer it feels so wonderful. All these new greens and rainbow colored flowers looks even dreamy under the last rays of stubborn summer sun. Perfectly measured houses, manicured lawns, trimmed bushes and color coordinated flowers look very sophisticated.

But then I look toward the sky and everything else feels like a insignificant doll house play. Don't get me wrong: I don't remember myself a true believer in any time in the past or present. But these kind times make me feel I wish I were. Then I don't need to deal this uneasy feeling which I cannot explain with or without a supreme authority and cannot ignore either. I wish I could I throw an umbrella term to wrap these complex things out there in the sky. But I cannot. so I think and think and tip over nothing second time in a week. And decided that I will do what is possible in my limit: I will listen to this song for the millionth time.

If you are the dealer, I'm out of the game
If you are the healer, it means I'm broken and lame
If thine is the glory then mine must be the shame
You want it darker
We kill the flame

Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name
Vilified, crucified, in the human frame
A million candles burning for the help that never came
You want it darker
Hineni, hineni
I'm ready, my lord

There's a lover in the story
But the story's still the same
There's a lullaby for suffering
And a paradox to blame
But it's written in the scriptures
And it's not some idle claim
You want it darker
We kill the flame

They're lining up the prisoners
And the guards are taking aim
I struggled with some demons
They were middle class and tame
I didn't know I had permission to murder and to maim
You want it darker
Hineni, hineni
I'm ready, my lord (Leonard Cohen)

p.s:  1) 45 minutes walk did not put my son to sleep 2) this entire blog is probably my coping mechanism to deal with a recent embarrassing fall in front of friends.


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