Ting Tong Tango

Few days are good. Really Good.

And then, few days are as bad as hell.

Guess life works that way, every minute. Ting Tong. The push and pull of the heartbeat keeps the puppet of flesh alive. And when the pull exceeds the pull ( or vice versa), everything collapses. It is impossible to make things work single handedly. It takes two to tango.

The awakening sometimes comes slowly, and sometimes, in a flash. And it goes away in a flash too. The light and dark play the ting tong of day and night to keep the circles going on.

The tings and tongs of romance sound so pleasurable, as the echos of tings merges with the sounds of tong. The tong sounds echo their presense till the ting strikes. The echos of ting tong keep overlapping each other, to an extent that even if a ting or a tong gets missed, the overlapping echo does not let the music go slow. But when ting keeps on missing the tong, the echo fades into silence, slowly. The gap between ting and tong increases, the strikes become less powerful and slowly die down.

There is no touch, no sound, no echo to overlap.

But this does mean that ting an tong dont keep on doign what they are ought to do. They just do not strike together. They freely oscillate in their own respective frequencies. Just that, there is no music thereafter.

No ting tong. No tango. No echo, No music.