#euneirophrenia

2 posts
  • tejaswini_3 71w

    Here is our submission to the collab challenge by @say_me_krish. A bit late though, but here we try to pen down the journey of a young dreamer who treads on her path– with zest and bravery. And then arises the question: Does she succeed in her mission?
    Read on!

    The following pieces are being written by me (tejaswini_3), ishrat_zaman and tamanna3. (Team: The Dashing Dreamers)

    WORD: EUNEIROPHRENIA- THE PEACEFUL FEELING WHICH YOU EXPERIENCE AFTER A PLEASANT DREAM

    #euneirophrenia #smk_collab_ch #writersnetwork
    #mirakee #dreams #ceesreposts

    __________________________________________________

    ~A Dream : Yet To Come True~

    It sparkled– that flamboyant artistry–
    On the walls of her dark bedroom,
    –The Valley of Peonies– 'twas titled,
    For bees zizzed around those pink florets,
    Creating an artwork– so gaudy,

    A ballerina– dancing amidst the waves pink,
    With her inamorato– in her arms,
    –Love blooming in their delicate hearts,
    And pleasantness dispersing around,
    Along with the citrusy fragrance..

    There she stood–our young dreamy belle,
    –Gazing at that appealing pair of lovers,
    Dreamed she– to be with her darling,
    In a field– of scarlet carnations,

    A pledge she made–to her own self,
    To be a dancer–and romance her dreams
    –With the one, who taught her how to dream,
    Her community–she feared; it was cruel,
    And ever ready–to disgrace a dancer,

    Still, nothing could stop her ardor,
    Nay–not even her family ever could,
    A tryst she made–with her own cravings–
    Be it so! I will be a fighter of my own will

    With a fresh euneirophrenia – she primed up,
    With her accessories, she dressed herself up,
    With a firm mind , she began her journey–
    For a dream was to be made T
    R
    U
    E....
    ©tejaswini_3
    || A DREAM: YET TO COME TRUE||



    @ishrat_zaman

    ~The Warrior Dancer~

    With a firm mind– she began her journey,
    For a dream was to be made true...

    Vanishing the gusts of despondence, collecting the shards of unaccomplished dream she groped the darkness of predicaments to find the pearls of success.

    Whenever that helping hand which she needed the most reverted her way; making her helpless and drowning in the ocean of despair, then her own magic, her intrinsic strength deviated the winds of helplessness.

    Without letting the people know, neither her parents and siblings nor her chums and chaps.She learned every step every action of her dream. Her every jump, turn , travel, gesture and stillness was
    so perfect that when danced she found herself in Utopia and when she danced she turned herself into a quill floating in the air and soothing the dead hearts of broken ones.

    She fell...a thousand times. Mistakes, she committed, so many! That's what happens when there is no tutor for guidance and your mistakes tend to be the only source of help.

    Hope...it beamed like the sunflower in that mud pot on the leafy garden road. The sun may not shine on its leaves but, still the sunflower positively glances at it, with the hope that some rays might colour it's petals in a bright yellow ochre.

    The radio, the television and even her compact mobile proved to be her best companions. Hiding from her members, she twirled and practiced those steps whenever a tune hit her eardrums. Music–
    it got a special place in her heart and she learnt slowly that dancing is incomplete in itself; those notes and melodies complete it...just like how she fancied her incompleteness without her sweetheart..

    And that day was not far away, when the notice for the prestigious dance competition arrived. She was the first one to register. With a heart beating faster than ever, she came home that day– and glanced at the painting again. The moonlight shone on its glassy surface and also through her courageous eyes.

    Her anklets were ready. Her dress was ready; the bright blue lehenga with a yellow duppatta too was lying on the bed. But, was she ready to feel the euneirophrenia turn into reality? Was she ready to dance infront of hundreds of people– and her love amidst the audience?

    For optimism, she looked at the heavenly night sky.
    And what she saw took her breathe away: A Perseus, did the shimmering stars weave....


    ©ishrat_zaman
    ||The Warrior Dancer||



    ~The War Abandoned~


    //A Perseus–did the shimmering stars weave,
    On the fabric of the silent night sky,
    The air croons a magical melody of jubilation,
    As euphoria diffused in it; just like sugar cubes,
    sweetening her wills to rise up
    Euneirophrenia– All she could feel as soon as the morning rays kissed her face,
    For she was that passional dancer, dancing in the Valley of Peonies,

    They tintinnabulated; those anklets– on her ankles,
    Were like silver linings for her golden dreams,
    Dreams– of whirling on the notes of the Casio,
    And also twirling on the tunes of the Sitar,
    Adorning charming pendants on her sleek neck;
    And the olive henna on her graceful hands,
    Dancing– was her passion, her love, her life breathe...

    –The day dawned, the most glorious one ever,
    Along with the scorching sun, the flames blazed in her heart,
    Flames– of perseverance and patience,
    Her caged soul was ready now–
    To break the shackles of restrictions,
    To barge out of the penitentiary of the society,

    /With kohl beautifying her dark almond eyes,
    And zeel blinding the sight of her enemies,
    She set–to be the dancing warrior/

    All is fair in love and war– the aphorism said,
    Her war was for her love; and was very just,
    A lie doesn't hurt; for 'twas for a cause so good,
    Lied–she; to her family,
    And embraced her thirsty inclination– she could see
    her dream up there--

    Only to be drowned in a pool of
    B
    L
    O
    O
    Drenched in
    her red gore,
    Her heart beats ceased– those seconds, she couldn't even count,
    Her black eyes shut– in a black world of slumber..
    And they did flutter open–
    In a chamber white, with green curtains draping her
    vision– dissevering her from her palaces of dreams.

    – The surgeon apprised ,' You should not strain your legs, for an operation they have undergone,
    'My stage! My theatre! My performance!– I can dance still....can I?
    "–Shun the thoughts of performing, young girl; focus on your safety"–the cold advice she bitterly accepted

    //And there she stands–in front of the painting,
    Her valleys withered– her dreams vanished– her love forgotten//

    ©tejaswini_3

    ||The War Abandoned||


    @tamanna3

    ~The Dancing Danseuse~

    //And there she stands–in front of the painting,
    Her valleys withered– her dreams vanished– her love forgotten//
    With thoughts flitting around like tiny butterflies–

    Even in my awake frame,
    I yearn for euphoria
    Still brimming at my heart,
    Enwrapped within the foam
    Of some dreamy blues.
    The beats pulsating at my ears
    Propels the old danseuse
    Sentient still within my heart,
    To sway back its esse
    Yet in the land of nod I live in.
    Running in the wilds of dwam,
    I end up in a clearing and lose
    My way back to the veracity of the day.
    When at night, the stars set about
    Peering at my distrait frame from above,
    I want to shine like those stars
    And dance with them
    In the shimmering night sky,
    I want to feel my legs piroutte
    On the dance arena,
    So be it, even if in dreams.
    Now I breathe in blithe,
    For unfettered now are my feet,
    By the pennons of euneirophrenia
    Like a bennison of saccharine fervour
    Twirling in rhythm to my heartbeat

    I'm sitting on the rings of Saturn, waving at the red and amaranthine stars, smiling back at me in twinkles, whilst burning their cores out, scorching heat emanating from fusion of hydrogen into helium.
    I smile at the moon; still trying in vain, to hide those grey scars behind its visible side, shining a lucent glow.
    I shut my eyes for a split second and suddenly find myself in the midst of tall looming buildings, dazzling lights, horns blazing at my ears, signboards naming the city of my dreams.

    I bit my lips to see if I'm dreaming. Yet all I feel is the sweet kiss of euphoria pressing more serotonin into my senses, the blurriness of my specs-aided vision befogging my once sober mind.
    I'm brought back natheless, into actuality, by the sound of brakes screeching on the road outside my open casement. I look around to see the familiar sooty walls and the blue ceiling looming over my solitude.

    I walk up to the mirror and look at the person staring back at me, yet not wearing a doleful look anymore. Her eyes were a deep brown, and pupil a pellucid black; its depth seemed proffering me a whole different universe; where I nattered away with stars and planetoids, the companions I could never see; where I lived in Utopia and crossed paths with the lover I could never meet.

    And I stood there still, flexing the muscles on my profile into a smile, knowing not how to bring my feet back on the ground. I kept soaring higher into the lulling heavens of my imagination. Imagination, that I could forsooth live, in the nebulous abode of my dreams.
    I sit now, in the lap of euneirophrenia, still embracing the beatitude of the elysian seas I had, by choice, soaked myself in, even in this wakeful disposition.


    ©tamanna3
    ||The Dancing Danseuse||

    TEAM: THE DASHING DREAMERS

    //Not all dreams exist in this materialistic world–
    Some live in a land of Euneirophrenia//

    Read More

    Euneirophrenia: The Elysian Elixir

    By-- The Dashing Dreamers