House of Patterns

With the last puff of hash, I got ready to get out in the daylight. I smiled at every person I saw with every rising temperature in my body.  I saw a cluster of genders struggling for their daily goals to achieve. I wondered what was my goal of that day. Nothing came to me except for the word, union.


With every passing station in the metro, I realised I was heading nowhere. The blurred vision of the reality made me conscious of the callous bickerings of the people around me. I thought of getting down in the next station and I ended up at a place full of shops, a mall. I grabbed my attention to this world and it’s people. I entered into the mall and I was amazed to see patterns everywhere. There were clothes full of patterns. The whole room in fact the whole floor turned into a house of patterns.
The plain white walls started having blocks of colors with different graffiti upon them. The clothes started flying with colors and tribal patterns. There were mosaics, prints, dots, flowers, color blocks all around me. All I could see was myself alone in that house of patterns. Is it real? I rushed towards a quiet place and sat for a while. I passed out for few time intervals.
When I got into senses, I could feel the reality kissing my cheeks again.
One hell of a trip, twas.


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