Day-Rhyme, Alblackica-Clock, Samij Datta, 2012

The Flash Disk Apostrophe of the Bhimbhetka Stars in the Day-Rhyme of Alblackica Illumination

 Consciousness-Analogue

The flash disk apostrophe of the Bhimbetka stars saw the yahotri yigadohum….yanimbha kaal..entering the creation-physical-proper; in the eye of the superimposition the day-rhyme of the parasol gives shelter from the sun, time holds the Mesolithic key to the naked destiny of the future as on its lap the ear of the Shambhala heard Beethoven compose the ceremony of the first symphony in C with an grand eloquent performance on 02.04.1800 measured by 0081.40.20 points to cover the French armies’ advancement into Cairo; the river is not a hot metal plate of the Heliopolis but a scriptural design, some call it the water-bed of the vineyards of Provence, some call it the hand- book of the navigators of justice but it’s a quasi-fluid in the hanging drama of time-self multiplexes, the alblackica working in the alblackica to change substance and form, to evolve mankind towards a greater destiny, and with supramentalisation of matter, the spirit is the hanging cross of the breathing years of laughing cows in the pre-Buddha-Buddha of ajax informational-functions;

When the child was the Hari-takyat moon of the seven seas then the camera was watching the differences in the solar unity of the one, in the zero-muscular reticular analogues it felt the Rolls Royce Silver-Ghost in the habber-brahman looking for itself in the neo-platonic rosariums of Plotinus, Porphyry and al-Farabi; in the beauty was the knowledge the drifting waters of the Ganges before the sun-task of resurrection was an alblackica rhythm, but, now in the hollow isolation of the I-pipes, the thunder is a bed on which the horse unplugged its vision to create the Nomura, Numero Uno of the distant stars;

Time is coming like the rider on south seas’ eternal leopard, swift sensations are denominations of the cupboard chess playing the game with the bicycle of Jonathan Livingstone Seagull; the ra-ru-re dream of the child-in-play in the cloud’s epiphany of the Stephen artist is the primal void from which everything is run; let the sun eat the tomorrow in the arrow of the stars and we can dance another time in the Alblackica day.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: Archival Photograph, Bhimbhetka Cave Paintings, India

Rolls-Royce ’52 Advertisement (From Ad archives)