Untitled

...

I called out to my God. I knew that He was in that light or maybe He was the Light.

And I realized, I could be light too. I wanted to reach out to that light and be a part of it. To touch that warm light. And I realized, I could feel His warmth even from such millenial distances. I got up on my feet and started running towards it. But still, I was nowhere near it. The source of the light was constant. It neither dimmed nor brightened. There was no day or night. If there was any, then I was in the twilight. Night lay behind me with a gaping mouth and day stood ahead with extended arms that never quite reached out to me. I thought I was being driven into madness.

So, I realized that in this state, madness would be much better than sanity: running but never quite reaching anywhere.

I called out to my God and I thought I heard humming...

And how fast I ran, faster than the speed of light and still I was far, far away from destiny, from that cool-warm light that was so beckoning and enticing that the feelings of claustrophobia were lost upon me. The percepts of my mind became faster than they ever were.

Sadness turned into happiness even though I was still so far away. It was sheer joy...

Na tha kochh, to Khoda tha, koch na hota, to Khoda hota

July/August 2002: from my little book

A thorn in YOUR flesh

But where was he going? He began to come out of his trance of delight and liberty. Deep within him he felt the steady burning of shame in the flesh. As yet he could not bear to think of it. But there it was submerged beneath his attention, the raw, steady-burning shame.

It behoved him to be intelligent. As yet he dared not remember what he had done. He only knew the need to get away, away from everything he had been in contact with.

But how? A great pang of fear went through him. He could not bear his shamed flesh to be put again between the hands of authority. Already the hands had been laid upon him, brutally upon his nakedness, ripping open his shame and making him maimed, crippled in his own control.

The Thorn In The Flesh
D.H. Lawrence

And how far will you go before you can get away from it? The voices will always follow you as they have been for more than 15 years.

Enjoy the silence now.