Thus spoketh Valerie to Rob, and that was the last time they spoke.
Night’s shallow moonlight finally conquered the fiery orangeness of the dusk. Crickets and other beings of the night came out, and added peace to the death silence. Clouds swam, winds blew, the Mother turned in her sleep. The first rays poked the Mother awake. As She put up a fight, dragging the blanket of clouds tighter around her, Valerie, driven by deep wants, ran out to catch the the rays.
The particles and waves assumed a heavenly blue shade as they filtered down the atmosphere slide. The weaved and passed, playing wanton with the clouds, screaming in merriment, wearing a smiling mask, while hurtling earthward. Sad how no one knew, whether it was particulate or wavular, or something else; straight or bent; energy or matter… It was assumed. And each assumed differently. So did Valerie.
And so Valerie let it all in. Masked in the smiley, the blue sun shine found a hit. Undeterred by the ozone, ‘cos the ozone after all is a creation of the intelligent mind, and when the mind deems, even the three atoms of oxygen can disappear, thus the rays found their way.
One basic fact of life, which Darwin dictated, was that to survive, absorb that which is wanted, not all. But the Power which formed the concept called life, to make life unmundane, to keep the intelligence occupied in its Matrix, induced that spirit of adventure, of discovery, of absorption of all, that of making mistakes. And so, a support that the Power gave was that of chances. Chances to make mistakes, understand, and learn, and develop. For chance, the Power made choices and intelligence. For understanding, the Power gave the people around, the society, and the friends. To learn, the Power gave the self-perception. And to develop, the Power gave the Power itself, and the belief in the self.
But there was a catch. The process had to be initiated by the self. And had to be accepted, not defended. If it was not initiated, nor accepted, and defended, then the Power would manifest itself in a different way and make sure that development ultimately occured. And if not, certain facets were curtailed.
‘Ol Valerie meanwhile, kept letting it all in. The light, seemingly, empowered, and brought about changes which ‘Ol Val’ thought nice, ‘cos they antagonised what was supposed to be. Now the question of ‘being’ is also quite political. ‘Being’ is different for different folks. The best being is in between the binary, being the fulcrum. Balanced, compassing a bit of both. This particular being is unique in the fact that this being does not change however much the poles may change. It can also dictate how much the poles can change. It is a vantage point from where the ‘beer’ (no, not beer, ‘be’er, as in the person who ‘be’s) can see both the poles, know both the sides, elevate her/him self with even more knowledge, which is pitifully hidden from the poles, and have an opinion.
Now Valerie knew this pretty well, but the rays were too attracting, not because of an inherent quality, but because it antagonised. The rays hit the keratin, producing keratinine, producing Vitamin D, and also tanning her. So much, that she became different, a part of ol’ Beamy’s own clan. Now that is not something everyday, and Valerie was proud. With even more open arms, she let in more of those rays.
Rob stood by, and watched this trans. He would have assumed a Portebello and oozed respect, but unfortunately, he knew ol’ Beamy’s ways too well. He had seen the light, and the darkness inherent in the light. He stood by, and watched…
Valerie saw the shades too, but never recognised them to be antagonistic to the light. Just… shade…
Suddenly, one day, the light will shatter. A new theory will come about. Not particle, not wave. Something else. Light is the absence of darkness? Light is the absence of certain particles, the disintegration of which was earlier termed as ‘photon’? Something… Something else… BUT, essentially, the light shattered. What seemed to be, was no longer there. Light was not really light, but just posing to be light.
This will not be out of the blue; the shade had betrayed this all along.
Valerie? She was in the light clan, right? Will she disappear? No, she’s made of quantified material. So what happens? Crisis? Disarray? Psychosis?
Thus seeth Rob, and hopefully, that won’t be the last time he sees…
Dedicated to a friend…
Title inspired from the poem Anyone Lived in a Pretty How Town by e e cummings
