(Photos by Dr. Wambui Mwangi)
And Van Gogh sent them in for Gayatri Mantra. He said “Chant this: That when you put the orange next to the blue, maximum contrast results. Or the green next to the red…before the colours die.”
The late afternoon sky bled with Van Gogh. In the temple, they tried to create meaning out of the last Sun. Yet they became scared to go out once in. They did not want to acknowledge the last stretch, the last curving dip of their daytime orb. It was to be shutter and closed doors, high minaret ceilings, confinement, and finally escape from the obviousness outside.
You will not see anybody. Don’t say you can see the deepening blue happening to the sky, there is no one here to see it. You can only follow their absences. Like the runaway footsteps that went down the spiral iron staircase. These people jettisoned their homes, whole blocks like this one self-vacuumed.
You can hang around the neighbourhood but the rumour is the crowds rushed to the edge of sight to witness Sun’s death.
On the first floor, the family of Nishmog, Mehgool and kids Lihog and Luhem left with all their attired possessions. These included socks, trousers, Nikes and Tag Heurs, underpants for Mr. Man and Mrs. Woman, tampons, applied aftershave and possibly work ethic.
On the second floor, the couple Jarinka and Jonathan took off everything. Over the rails they let them hang, the Levis and bra. It was the end, so they approached vanishing Sun as boobies and manhood, Adam and Eve. Walking into the crowds as themselves, the skirt consciously forgotten on the balcony railings.
The foliage wondered too: How would we grow without him? How would we chlorophyll?
And here they are, the crowds. This is end point. This is where horizon finishes its job. The crowds jabber on. In walkie talkie they buy jackets of warmth because after he dips into oblivion it will be cold and everlasting night.
The radio of this place, if you hear, listens as follows:
“And with my binoculars I spy its setting…it sets.”
“That was the last day.”
“Give us this daylight our daily bulbs, tubelights, torches and neon.”
“The moon behaves on us with its dark side, next to go will be the stars.”
“I can’t see you.”