This Autumn Eve

By Anoushka Mukherjee

Have you ever been attached to something unknown yet so familiar? I think I have. It is nothing else but love. The love in itself is ambiguous, it’s shadowed and faded, saturated with soft edges. It is when you are in love, you sink, you drown. You sink and drown into an ocean, quite endless. The buoyancy doesn’t really work and salt cutting through your skin doesn’t really have an effect. You neither suffocate nor try to flail your limbs to come out of it. It’s an eerie comfort, submerging to the ends. And so after all, your feet meets the land you yearned for, the ends you wanted to meet, the expanse you wanted to explore. So, you open your eyes that was kept shut till now. You see yourself almost touching the horizon that is painted so intricately yet the reckless strokes are of prominent beauty. You are on the top of this mountain overlooking plains and greens instead of swimming with the unknown creatures of the great beneath. You can see the crossroads, the boulders that may fall. You can see the endless orchards and how the rivulets cascade. At last you have sunk deep enough to rise above all. Isn’t it what love is, the greatest fall?

By Anoushka Mukherjee