there is a brown mist in the air. like smoke, it curls. lazily, slats across the way. slithering to escape, a miasma of vapor clogs the turnstiles. i am trapped. the memories emerge, like ghosts resurrected. now i hear a voice. was that a name or an echo of times gone by? i shake this incredible lassitude that has settled on me. like a purple haze across the sea. i am the mariner with an albatross. standing here on the edge of the universe, i take a dive. long, shallow and sweeping. And i emerge. on the other side. what am i this time ? or that time, or any other time?

look around. i ask a question. a bird twitters in reply. i go upto it, it slips away; like smoothly running sand. i try to run, but where are the feet? where is the heart that powers this surge? a lost predicament. i ask again. milton's murmur. a poetic license. the bird returns. a sudden flit of the wings and its here. perched on my shouders. a whisper in my ear. "is that the question ?", i ask. the strange murmur disappears. landscape dissolves away. a different hue of me is there. dare i speak again?

there is a silence. deep inside me. an ability long lost. often misunderstood. the bird comes back, its face illuminated by rays of mortal sunlight. Marlowe's eulogy. the face that launched a thouand ships and burned the topless towers of illium. wasted effort. i ask again,"why?".

"why not", the swift rejoinder. the light shines around me. people forgotten, places visited; it all comes back. who am i becomes why am i? i see the haze shifting. as if asking a question. a lean murmur. cut to the stormy sea. battlling the tempest. a foggy vision and a petrifying beast. the strength. would it return was it even there? the contradictions continue. i am now a maze. a lost crossword. nobody has the key except me.

the voice from within is stronger now. "jabberwock! i know ur ministrations". the one thing that holds you and makes you unique, and you forget that. the stone is my brother. silence speaks from within. and crashing to a crescendo comes the thunder across the haze. things are moving now. back on solid ground. a neighbourly twitter. all seems fine. i see the angel again. i approach, though the shadow glides away. i run, it runs faster. consciousness is returning, like a phoenix reborn. a voice, mine, shouts. wasted effort though. a final sigh! and stop the caravan. its on the horizon, but i cant catch it this time. i know that.i call out. not in entreaty, but in amity.

but, we will meet again. the voice n me. till the ravages of time. across the dying hulks of stars. me against me.till then, it would be quotidian. an august, ending.