Duality of mind and its quest


"What does one find in the chasms of subdued passions ?" , he was asking himself. The vesper was getting thicker and the spirited luminations were obliging. The smiles of a sublime loftiness was binding the earth to its bosom in moments of intimacy. The music was in a crescendo to his ears. The fingers clenching and unclenching , and the spasms of torment unleashed......

I first met him when he was a small boy of about four or five. Remembrance was too well poignant nevertheless I prefer this hazy hindsight . The light grey shirt and the dark faded trousers reaching his mid thighs . The little boy with plump white cheeks and a candid smile. The eager , sprightly steps when he walked; and the wondrous eyes lighting up when the offerings of blithe were bestowed upon him never so frequently. A birthday of his childhood one spring Sunday morning ; the Nature was in one of her august moods. The calm, transparent pond. The ripples were unobtrusively elegant by their absence. He was staring into the water. I could perceive his eyes. The deep longing hidden in those eyes for an instant I sensed. The image crumpled ; the surface became disturbed by a perpetuation .

The day was having a premature death . The evening with it's dainty pattern of colours ... What did he feel ? A faint uneasiness creeping in . The steps were so feathery... unheard . But I was there , watching them.

A wait into the soul of night. The dragging minute hand of the clock hung on the white plastered wall. The fully lit bedroom . A hole in the wall... staring straight into his eyes. The thoughts were set aflame in an unguarded moment. Time was flitting through the room. Forward and backwards... Vertically and horizontally... crisscross and zig zag ....What I felt ? ... I was afraid . Terribly afraid .

He was writing something . The head bent down and eyes dreamy . He was unaware of my presence . Over his shoulder I read what he wrote :
'The abstraction of a portrait
Once in this moment of soul .
The blind allusion ever
To forbear the self or You ?'

What an effort it had taken for him to smile at me ! The stiff lips, coming off the teeth in a gesture of extreme torture . The tired eyes begging ... The intricate bloom of strangeness possessed in a whirl of evanescence . I couldn't console him because he suddenly was speaking something and I too had nothing much to offer . A purpose was taking him over . A need - for a transition if not to bear off .

Then I saw him suddenly once again on a warm summer morning . He hadn't changed much . The loose outfit couldn't betray me . But now there was a smile adorning his lips . The golden showers of sunlight bathing the earth in a mesmerizing elegance . The trees bearing fruits in a coherence . He was in an urge to delineate something . The beauty suddenly found and inhered , the preclusion atleast acknowledged .

Often the abnegation alluded to a superfluity and nothing else as well the mitigation of variance . The eyes oblivious ; ears deaf and senses sedate . The biformity in repose never on that dusk when the dying sun was dappling his arms . The segregation in a perfect ascension :
"Where were you all the while?"
"Does it matter now ?"
"Of course, it always did ."
"You can have me if you prefer or else be on your own"
"Should I answer?"
The balmy night of May . The stars were smiling down in pearly unison .
"Let these undulations beguile themselves"
"As you wish today."
"Tonight will be dreamless for you."
"No! .You can't.."
"But your eyes are so hollow"
The languid night air laden with a rhythm of assent . The stars had bidden farewell long since .
Years had rolled by and remembrances were never green . But today he came into my thoughts . It was not as if I had forgotten him but I sort of took him for granted . Just the way one accepted something as such . Not a single hair of his had gone grey . He was smiling at me :
"What a twinkle in your eyes !"
"Is that an observation?"
"You haven't changed"
"I had been on a quest"
"Of what?"
No answer . The silence was pervading the room like a thick fog creeping in . I was waiting.... Outside, down the window the wind had started rustling the dry leaves .
I turned my back to him . The faint sound coming through the window after the strange silence was so enticing . Outside , the ambience was in one of the rarest moods of extreme solemnity . I had to face him soon . The lull was too hard to bear .
I turned to him to say something . And there he was , facing me . Tears were streaming down his cheeks .

Short story by binesh
Read 1010 times
Written on 2006-08-21 at 16:52

Tags Quest  Duality  Mind 

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This is a vibrant, powerful poem. Full of beauty, emotions, and all those lovely things that make an excellent poem! BRAVO!