on conception it is a straight line, drawn with pencil on a blank sheet of paper. it breaks into four in cursive writing notebooks, moves to criss-cross squares in math copies, moves to double lined copies, and finally pauses at single lined copies trapped in a paper hall of mirrors.
the single lines then move to rough registers, fancy hard bound notebooks, a4 sized sheets in file covers and resolve themselves to mini sized notebooks carried around with cellphone, cigarettes and ballpen.
done, the line drops down from single lined trouser and double lined denim pockets, bounces on the footpath and becomes a divider traveling the length and breadth of cities worldwide, where it travels till night becomes day. jumping across, back on some footpath, it does a tarzan from person to person in a queue and is next seen on the DJ’s console in parabolas and ellipses. a haze reveals a bathroom door behind which it is seen, white, powdery on a closed commode seat, disappearing up a nose, vaporopus.
appears, to the tune of ‘one, two, three, again, one, two, three, again’ on a cardiogram where electrical pulses menace it up, down, up down, in tiny screeching desperate movements that take it down, take it down, take it down till it’s that straight line again.