It seemed like the inside of a catacomb. Or was it an Egyptian tomb? It was feebly lit; darker perhaps inside- a solitary oil torch seemed to be eternally shimmering.
The air was archaic, the smell was stifling. I wondered how I came about inside there. I moved down the bend the granite walls menacingly pointed at places. They were colder than the mummified cadaver I stumble upon in the semi darkness. Beyond the bend in the tunnel it was darker, as the light thrown from the oil lit lamp was too feeble to reach farther.
I saw ancient trinkets strewn leisurely on the floor, partially covered by the dust and sand. Dust inside a catacomb? I wondered. Looked very much like the inner self of “genteel" world outside from where I wandered in, covered intermittently in dusty sand and corroded too.
I do not know how long I moved around. Deep in there, time seemed to have stood still, comprehension of time was nonexistent. Time ceased to exist. I slowly realised that I was not claustrophobic, I did not feel stifled, though it indeed must be repressing, I failed to feel though!, I did not miss the air outside, or the light of the day.. I felt more at ease in there amongst the mummified kings and queens.
There were many, some were laid on their back. And I felt some seemed to squat as if they held the posture for eons. And some were quite dismissive at my appearance inside there. Yet some seemed to frown the intrusion. Their convoluted faces and limbs seemed to tell that they were unforgiving, for being interned for those many past centuries.
Rattle snakes sans rattle slithered in silence- were they fearful of the mummies?Mummies who have now been constricted and interned for centuries and in temperamental existence.
Rattle snakes sans rattle slithered in silence- were they fearful of the mummies?Mummies who have now been constricted and interned for centuries and in temperamental existence.
I moved into another chamber, then another, and still many other. Each chamber had a paraffin wax torch claiming to be burning to eternity; they were haughty in their statement even with the pale light they threw around.
And the Kings and Queens, perhaps, consorts too resting in perpetual anger. I did not feel fear, did not see the need to flee the way I took to flight from the world outside. But I saw that it was a one way ticket to in there- you can check out anytime you like but you can never leave.
I remembered the song I loved much, because it reverberated from far away gently and then vehemently into my nerves and I felt the mummified Kings, Queens and their cohorts were coming alive, “On a dark deserted high way, cool wind in my hair……”