The Blur Moon

The Blur Moon

Written by Neelam Chari


“I wake up at three

to brew our enchanted love story.”

I finally see him relenting and shyly walking towards my group. He is extremely wary but also happy as he nears our table. He has worn his favourite shirt, the white one with brown stripes. He had worn it when we had met for the first time. I know he loves that moment, he loves to look at me and I love the way he looks at me with his full bright smile embellishing his brown face. 

“You are a blur moon,“ I say to him.

He says nothing but blushes. My friends pester him, tease him till I see a red rose blooming on his cheeks but on the other hand I just stare at him, admire him and feel like gazing at him all the time.I love him I know very well and he too feels the same but today I feel delighted as he has acknowledged it. Among the clamour of the people in this community hall, we both are tranquil, perhaps shy to see each other so closely. 

He is too embarrassed to meet my eyes and I am too spellbound to say a word. I don’t want anything more. 

The peacock is gearing up to spread his lovely greenish blue plumage and dance to the tunes of the thundery dark clouds trembling in downpour. The dark gloom outside is disturbed by sporadic lightning that works its magic of destruction. By now somewhere in the distant land, I also hear a colossal oak crumpling down to meet the fragrant wet mud and then I feel destruction can be so fascinating. Journeying into nothingness can be breath-taking.The dense showers remind me of the occulted grief metamorphosed into tears rolling down my face but the coldness shoves me deep into a cosy inertia.

I see my friends closing their eyes for the community prayer and it is when he comes close and sits next to me. I rest my head on his shoulders and breathe in his scent. I can hear his steady breath and listen to the pacy music of his heart beat. As he touches my hand it gives a feel of the warm water that cleanses my cluttered  frame and embalms my mind to a deeper relaxation. 

I don’t feel like coming out of this warm water. I wish to die here. The death would be so welcomed. This is what we call a peaceful death- to die in the arms of your beloved.

He smiles more often and this time to my surprise he also teases me. While the whole world has its eyes shut in prayers, we are revelling in our starry-eyed but infantile amorous and outlawed endeavours.

I then see him going backstage. He looks at me while talking with someone over the phone. I turn back and see him longingly as if we won’t ever meet again. My gaze is fixated as if my eyes want to tie him up to me perpetually. So I chant something in my mind and seal a bond with his soul- the bond of eternal amalgamation of our soul, and now he is mine, forever and ever in the various ages we will be born.

It has been 100 eons. I am protecting my baby fiercely from the python that has just crept up underneath my bed. So many pythons slither around like that everyday and I save her from them. When it comes to my baby I eject my talons or unsheathe my sword thus slaying the haunting beast. When all is clear, I sing a sweet lullaby for her peaceful sleep.

As I walk with my baby while putting her to sleep, I see the darkness outside. This darkness is enlightened sporadically by the full bright moon. It shines with a silvery halo but what beautifies it more are the passing dark clouds that make him blur.

And this is when I feel the blur moon entering my soul.


Neelam Chari
Neelam Chari

Neelam writes gripping stories, and all about her unique take on the world. 

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