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Writer's pictureAishwarya Jayal

Gravity's Fare

Sometimes,

I can see the gleam in his eyes.

If we were in an Anime:

They’d be balls of red fire with

An impossibly sharp, dark hole within,

Which you could zoom in.


And there’d always be another,

Living, breathing world behind.


The infinity of his eyes was endearing,

But then,

When shadows precede their primaries,

Light is always left behind.


And there is a shadow on his face.

It’s as though something just passed through him.


Like there’s a man sitting behind his face,

Really old and frail,

But an excellent craftsman nevertheless,

Who makes lifelike faces for all those living around him.

And he probably has a secret switch.

A button pressed,

And his face switches to another,

More unnervingly calm,

Uncannily inhuman one.


And the gleam,

The shadow,

Is just a moment between switches.


It’s like there’s a break in the gravity

Around us when this happens.

The air gets heavier,

Impossibly so,

Like a giant came along nonchalantly

And tried to pat us on the head.

And in this heaviness,

Time slows,

As if to allow more to happen,

Within the gambit of rapidly switching emotions.


Years seem like seconds,

And within each second,

The pattern of this gleam

Takes a physical shape.

And soon,

His reality, his person,

Is replaced by the one after the gleam.

And who I love most,

Becomes he who I detest the most.


And within the next few moments,

Words wind up into alarm clocks

And burst into an irreverent cacophony.

One minute, 29 seconds

And time smiles,

With the secret only it remembers.


Nothing,

That has once passed,

Can ever be erased,

Without erasing bits of those,

Who were passengers to its passing.


Two minutes later,

The gleam is gone;

But so is a part of the man I must love.

And with it,

A part of me,

For him.


Gravity,

Having received it’s fare,

Recedes to the imperceptible.

And you and I,

Return to normalcy, smaller,

And just a little further apart.

Ever fought with a loved one? Doesn't it seem like you're fighting an evil twin that could possibly not have been them, that they were possibly consumed by another who had nothing to do with them. And each fight, triggers a plethora of memories, that then solidify the image of their alternative selves, the ones you secretly despise the most, that leaves behind razor sharp memories of pain, both inflicted and received. Ah! This duality of loved ones baffles and torments even the best of us. Human beings are a strange people.


However, it's time we learnt that each of us has many faces, and that's not necessarily a manifestation of evil or falsities. That's reality. We cannot always play the same role, lest we maybe nothing but actors this life. That the ones we love do not bear the cross of perfection we bestow upon them, lest gravity consumes their soul and leaves behind merely well-practiced actors. Be yourselves, and let be.


Picture credits: Art on Sasaki Haise from Tokyo Ghoul. I haven't read the manga yet, but it bears an interesting story that I will get to once time relieves its hold on me. Google to check it out! :D



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