BEING UNTAGGED (Micro Story)

Micro Story

Once I was untagged, there quite a few running and running, like kite runners   that I could see for sometime behind and so I was sure of while got untagged myself thinking there was no point for more because there is an end to all the kites even for the one with  glass dust ridden  threads daring to touch the future I soared up and up above the plains, deserts and swamps and then to fly along infinite blue up and above for the endless feelings, the feelings of void tasteless like the taste of my first making of curry unwinding juggernaut cabbage ripping off leaves after leaves cutting into nearly cubes and hurling those to hot oils sizzling with life; but I forgot to add right spice to it, then taste it gave so bad that I had to wash out all the glass dusts pasted to the thread making it naked and vulnerable for rest of me in tiny things though I was told of great things were always on wait for me behind the dark cloud that badly patched my horizon ahead giving an impression of permanency but lately I found to my surprise the fear similar to that of  chickens in a closed barbed wire to which a scaring skeleton symbol is tagged  forever.

I  giggled at those wires in moon lights, harsh Suns and in middle of the storms with my protruding thick lips  guarded inner with a set of white sentries fortunately found still with good boots to parade and stand till the hoisting of the flag . Wriggled out of those wires so smooth to my wonder and found self untagged as I caressed my wounds found the body missing and so also my voice. Being untagged I flew thousand and thousand miles into deep and deeper blue where faces of unknown astronauts passing by through my memoryless  journey making it memorable down below, very below the deep blue ocean on the cliff of coral reef I am sitting untagged while my sack of bones still rattles there in my wall, I constructed with all the savings as well as hoodwinks wherever whatever is easy all on my trodden ways .