Black, White Noise, Dust & Onion · Sameera

Black, Onion, Dust by Sameera

The topic of this month was to write something utilizing at least 3 of the following words: White Noise, Black, Dust, Onion.

I love you……”

“Explain your love”


“You said you love me right? Explain what that means.”

“ I….just lov….”

What does it mean? What am I feeling? What is it that I want? The fact that I wasn’t aware of the words I had just voiced with the greatest confidence I could be blessed with, had me go numb. I don’t remember the last time I had been so confident about something, so self-assured and yet now had failed to pin down its denotation, leave alone connotations. I couldn’t quite home in on what exactly it was that made me presume it as love. I stood there almost deadened while his offhanded eyes demanded an answer from mine.

“Go ahead… search till your lungs give out, but make sure to get me an answer!”

And so the months have passed chirping and mocking at how pathetic my life had become. The roads had a destination no more. The figures on the calendar only had empty numbers to offer. The news was new no more; neither were the daily tick tocks of the peach wall clock. What is love indeed? The roads, calendars and the clocks, all remained silent.

On one of those sorry days, as I was taking a quiet stroll across the lane and musing away the evening, I sensed the twilight dust all around me, spread beyond my sight of vision. “It’s beautiful” I thought to myself. “This is enough for today. I can live the day off.” Then I headed further, tracing the dust. One of the onions from the heap of hay in the running truck came down tumbling to my feet. I reached for it, slowly observed the layers, immediately recalling my teacher from high school who once said that the ancient Egyptians worshipped onions, believing their spherical shape and concentric circles within, symbolized eternity. “Interesting!” I thought. “This has probably made today a tad bit more important than the rest, I can live the day off”.

The twilight made way for the night to spread its wings of stars and flag its moon. “Does the day love night? Hmm.. may be!” I pondered. “Can the day exist without the night? Out of the question! Perhaps they do love each other. Ahhh! I wonder how important the night must be for the day!!!” 

Like a thunderbolt, suddenly something hit me, which later as I learned was realization. The hit was so out of the blue that I had to freeze in my tracks.

In a flash I went to him with a heavy breath and a pounding chest, squarely blurting “Love is when the white day makes way for the black night. Love is when the onion reminds me of my high school teacher. Love is when mere dust makes me feel like living a little after all. Love is the reason I lived everyday even when I didn’t find any reason to. Love is the tree giving out oxygen for us to breathe and us giving out carbon dioxide for it to breathe. It’s love when the peach clock goes nonstop tick tock for me to know the time. It’s love when the calendars scream the dates for me each and every day. It is love when the roads guide me home safe. Name it and it’s all love. And So I say, I love you because you are important for me to live.” I paused and took little breaths of relief.

“What have I to do then?” he asked. “Absolutely nothing at all” Said I, smiling.


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