Bridge over the creek, originally uploaded by anksy06.

Grey… The world becomes grey when I move over the creek. The rail track a dark grey, the water a light grey, the sky a lighter grey and the mist surrounding me is the lightest, almost white grey. The horizon is blurred; the sea and sky go from being one to another at no definite point, almost as if one flows into the other. The buildings on the far end are hazy at best and the clouds hanging low over a small hillock just add to the chimerical atmosphere. But I think it is the mist that does it. It is the soft mist that casts a clock of surrealism on everything around, making me feel I am in transit between two worlds and this short stretch is a walk with my inner self. A walk where I become oblivious to the people around me, to the jostling, pushing and to the incessant babbling din that can only be the result of hundred or so women crammed in a space meant for fifty. And yes, I do become oblivious to all that. When I look at the rippling water flowing under the bridge, I sometimes think of life, sometimes of death, sometimes of dad, working so hard to keep all of us happy, sometimes of mom, who has made us her world giving up everything for our slightest joys. I also think sometimes of death, the 50 feet drop to the water below you can do that sometimes… It also makes me think of things I have deliberately pushed to the back of my mind, an introspection of sorts…

And on other days, it’s bright and beautiful with a breeze that ruffles your hair and refreshes you completely – draining all traces of a hard day at work. Nature, they say has a strange way of connecting with you…


8 responses to “Creek

  1. Simply beautiful.

    I really no words to express my feelings what I felt while reading your art kinda master piece of writing.

    Hey, I’m really missing your stories. Please post some na.

  2. @ Shikhs,

    Thank uuuuu

  3. Ripples in the creek, hence ripples in Grey matter too, bounded with bridges of thoughts.

    The photograph is nice one. Would like to few lines about the bridge. The sides of bridges are high enough to prevent anything falling into it. The base of the bridge are strong enough to bind the two sides of world well. And the smooth traffic inside it helping everyone travel bearing all the weights. The bridge inspires in fact.

    Nice write-up.

  4. @ J,

    Thank you dear…

    really overwhelmed by your comment… master piece!!!! i don’t think so…

    even i am missing writing stories… there are a couple unfinished ones that i am just not getting the time to complete…. maybe i’ll start writing something short and post it soon….

  5. @ Prem,

    thanks for liking it… that was some interpretation of a bridge, guess I never thought of it that way…

  6. Yeah! I just tried to paint with the orange color, where I felt the Grey color a bit darker.

    Saw sunset album on flicker today. Nice snaps. Those snaps reminded me the poem on setting sun you wrote sometime in past.

    Now we do wish to read a poem on rising sun too , if possible.

  7. @ Prem, that one has been my masterpiece…. i wish i can write one soon too… my poetry wrting skills surface in random bursts and then go to sleep….!

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