Tuesday, March 17, 2009

How are you?

Phantom of the opera, the demon inside. You hear him again and you sit down, silently, with eyes that seek intensity, with ears that seek to shut down, with a soul that seeks to receive. You sit down and you pick up either that guitar or the word keeper with it’s glowing white screen asking you – what today? Who will you be, the joker with the hat or the one with the scars, the boy in love or the man in despair. And You, you move your hands, unknowing, unsure and you say. . . . . . let’s find out.

Still, no matter how many words you write or how many songs you sing, the unsung song haunts you, the untold story does not let you sleep or wake up without wanting to do the other. The question of who you really are remains unanswered, the strings laugh, the glow mocks, . . . . . . like they could have given you the answer. You were foolish to even try.

The masterpiece remains unwritten, the source refuses to reveal itself. Does it really exist, is it God? You lose interest, the source may be holy, as may be the elusive masterpiece but you realize you are not. You put aside the guitar, shut the word keeper down and reach out. You're unsure of who you are again, the saint or the sinner, the artist or the faker but you're brave enough to let those questions go unanswered a little longer.

You step out into the world, even scarier, you wander around unsure of what to do till you stumble into the smile of a friend. This makes sense. You can use this; use the surety of the voice, the willingess of the smile and the undeniability of the love; to find your answers. They can be your source. God needn't be troubled anymore, he's given you enough.

"How are you" asks the friend. An informal greeting, but nevertheless a effective method of asking where you've been, why you went and most importantly who you've returned as. You wonder who you are now, the friend or the lover, the source or the masterpiece, the wounded or the cure, the man or the dream. But you know you'll find out and wrapped in her arms an inch from her ear, you whisper in a voice that is sure, a voice that already knows.

You say . . . . . . "let's find out"


Zedekiah said...

Me Missed this....how.....

But the phantom really brought it out.......How are you:-)

Zedekiah said...

...oh and what an opening !!!! but then you already knew it...:-)
Take a bow :-)

Saahil Kapoor said...

I will, for the second time :-) As for the opening, I had nothing in mind when I sat down to write, just know that I wanted to start with Phantom of the opera. The rest just followed.