Tuesday 20 October 2009

A story worth not telling - Part I

Water leaked through that opening, all night. Drops gleamed in moonlight and crashed on the floor into invisible splinters. Wind was howling outside. Knocking or rather beating on the walls. Despite of it, silence was too deep in me. I felt like those sounds were coming from oblivion, far away from me, yet, their presence was never out of my senses.
I was an outcast. I was sick. Diseased. And the virus lay in my mind.It refused what it found non-tenable. It chided what it found irrational. It smirked at the certitude of rightness. All of these were part of a crime. Thought crime.

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Run! Run! Run! The precincts of Humanity village extended to far away lands. It appeared to stretch beyond the far ends of river Serene , that flowed through the heart of the city , meandering its path through human habitation, and deserted landscapes. I couldn't row the boat of my will on this endless stream. The boat of my will cannot cross its realms. Its too weak for it. I looked for land stretches, ones, that were different from this land, this place where I have been born and in all probability was destined to die. It didn't matter, whether I died here or not. What mattered was , until I die, where I was, what I was, who I was with. Tremors of blood gushing through my veins could be felt by my brain. It was beating hard, very hard. To the point, that all you would expect next moment was that it would explode the next moment.

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"There are many gods that we worship. Some , we never see in our life, but some of them stand in front of us, in flesh and blood, in spirit and body. What's the worth of my life? It lies in my duty . My duty to be subservient to my benefactor, my savior, my Man. To live in his order and die in his arms. Nay, there is no love between us. But , it never is the requirement for my subservience to you or for your ownership of me. The vicissitudes of life makes all souls realize that love is neither a moment, nor a prerogative. It just becomes of us. Please take me with you!", lady Virgin was fervent in her submission of self to my authority. Did I ask for it ? Do I seek it? I could have had her presence in my lascivious wants. Into my carnal desires. But that, yearning was lost now. What mattered to me was her individuality. My saving her was not contingent upon her submission to me. My act of rebellion had its root in respect for human , and in realizing my own humanity. But, how could I accept her subservience, blind submission. The hope with which I had fought on her behalf, was betrayed by her request. I refused blankly. I can't own you. In essence , who could own anyone? I cant consider an object out of lady Virgin, whose virginity and loyalty shall be under my command. Lady Virgin! you are free, independent. Realize it and fly .
But she refused to realize her own sense. She did "refuse" it , but it was a refusal of her subservient sense. Of a sense , that trampled her self with pride. Tears welled up in her eyes. Sobbing at gaps, she uttered the following words. "My sense of self, relates to your presence. Once a woman surrenders her soul to a man, its the man in which her self lies. In this worldly structure of society, women has been the progenitor of Man's child. She has been the means to an end , the gratification of man. Man's sense of world arrived from our wombs. All the generators of world , were generated through us, though the seeds of an another generator. My man. In this circle of man to man, knowledge to knowledge,we have always been the means. Man's and thus humanity's progress, would have held up if Man never thought, and we always let them think. We rested our faith and order on them." Even the act of your coming to my rescue from the hands of those jackals of Humanity, is a proof of your capacity to be my Man. I , the women , am the facilitator of your journey. Of your hardships and pleasures. Of being the fertile land for your seed of progeny. You are my Hero. A hero is Man and Man is a hero. But to each of us there is a Hero. There are men and there is a Man. A Heroic Man. He is the mover of this world. The motor,that moves the world." Her face , wet with tears and dark strains of Kaajal was beaming with pride now. A pride of finding her hero. A pride of finding a Man to be subservient to, of finding her aim of life. She came forward and clung to my shoulders. Took her hand at the back of my head and pressed her lips against mine. I , her Hero, was trembling , at her thought , at the fruitlessness of my act to rescue her few days back. But, now my carnal desires , numbed my brains. And I fornicated lady Virgin, ate her self.
But, I couldn't hold her long. I threw her away. "I didn't rescue you to make a mockery of humanity. The very premise on which my acts were based has been not understood by you. In all essence, I am no master, nor a slave. An independent soul , I am. I am a human searching for ways to be back one with void. But , to this world , I would create and provide , and continue so, in my next form as well. I cant accept a leach to suck the blood of Man. And its that what I find in your tendency to be subservient. " I thundered. She was shaken.Lady virgin, out of shame, woke up the land , half naked. Her helpless body , sought an end, an end in transition to this thought. Her body , broken by the act of fornication, was wilting away. She had given up. She jumped into the abyss, and I couldn't stop her . I ran.
Run! Run! Run!

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{To Continue if liked.}

2 comments:

Numero Uno said...

Great one... :) plz continue..

Anonymous said...

Very interesting and unique piece. A story completely worth reading.

Waiting for part- II :)