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The Mist

It takes us to a land of serenity, a land where all are blissful, where all attain nirvana, the greatest of happiness. It asks us to take the one small step, and not worry, for we do not know, what lies ahead. It calms frayed nerves and soothes old wounds.

The mist hides the deepest and the darkest of secrets, concealing in it both the good and the evil, the truth and the lies. But sometimes, it can be a sign of peace, of calm, of Beauty.  Slowly a moving away from us, but ever closer.  Mysterious but known. It whispers to us “Do not worry, child, the world lies in wait…” From the hilltop, it covers the land below, as if asking us to stare into the horizon.  In the night,  it lets through only the lights of the cities below, unwillingly letting us know where our fellow men and women dwell,  gushing their lives away for worthless stacks of paper,  forgetting to live,  forgetting to breath,  forgetting to love. But it does not forget these beings… It falls on them as well, reminding them that life is more than this…  It is to explore,   to find the unknown, to push our imagination further, to push harder, and make our life worthy of being lived.

But they pollute it, with the poison of their machines, killing themselves slowly. It falls over their blackened lakes, their dead trees.

Hoping for a rebirth, hoping they will realize their folly and be whole again.


Ananth Krishna

Credits for Picture: Robert D. Stephens (Picture of Mumbai/Bombay)

Originally Appeared as a post in Ashtray Diaries

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