Chairoscuro

Standing on the foyer, I see her; smack! a jolt of lightining hits me ...


I sense this eradicable demeanour engulfing me with its idea of brevity and economy, such was her face, her body conjoined with slender cylinder called limbs.



I move towards the sea of people surrounding her , darkness , smug admist the light contoured texture giving the illusion of volumn ; her.

Then it happened.

I rise up and came close to her , not noticing the smog that had englufed her as she stepped out of the gallery in the thick winter of the night.

Cars marauding by, amidst hapless people. Greys all around , shades of them, and her; still, in the middle of the painting, radiating light. Light and dark playing games with each other, vying to define the negative and positive spaces , the war happening between them while creating a despicably beautifull motif of an imagery.

That I came close to her to look to her in the eyes, those eyes that had till now had become sick and tired of the mindlessness around her begged me, I.... a stranger knew them. She had to go .. the grave injustice had to be resolved or it would grow like a cancer . One could easily question the notion of god for sending her here in this space of indolent ardour and her, a deep meloncholy.

As much as one look that I took the next moment my knife was rupturing the skin that her stomach wore. One deep slash and it was done. Written in stone.

Life oozing out, it was not her body but her head that contained all the life. The granite pavement was looking even greyer for one could contrast the red with its sterile shade.

In that deep incognito embracement, I knew I had found her , where noone else could reach.

The great tension resolved as she smilingly closed her eyes.

Coming back to me

The chalice that I become to accommodate her. Her spirit and her countenance, I had to but forget everything I was and stood for. For you have to forget your very essence, the motif of your being should you fall in love. Yes love this four letter word which I would ve rather not used but except in syllogisms has come back for personal consumption and in force of terrifying gravity .


I believe that if one has to be in love then it is onto your vein that they bleed their heart out, the blood that contains your imprints have to go; at first, then the spirit of your lover be assimilated, churned, digested to their saturation point. Unless you do not take everything and become that person how can you call yourself to be in love ? love is that sea which demands your complete surrender. It asks you to strip naked, bare of all your belongings before you regather them. what you regather is just not you, but her and you.

I eat her and pass her out from my anus, what passes out I eat it again , again and again until nothings comes out. I never said this is was going to be easy or pleasant. I was bleeding for her, forgetting myself to be her. and now time has come that I start regathering myself, my new morsels that while being in the state of disconnection and scatteredness were getting modified. Infused with her essence which now runs through my veins. welded with brute force. Going back to me also means getting her out of me for only one can stay here, this body that becomes the chalice . This soul that measures the elixir that is her will also have to know her from afar. Where she's out of my body.

The depressions that she'll leave will have to be accounted for. It is also one way of knowing, absence; that space where my morsels will perch themselves onto. An act of copulation which redeems my soul. The chalice has to grow. That I allowed her inside, I will have to go there in her too.

My love, the worlds I left to know the worlds inside you beckon me. I had kept them aside only so that their impression do not color whatever consisted in you of what I could gather from you. Only then could I claim to know you. Now it is time that you know we as well as I see you growing murderous of my incapiblities. As much as I surrendered, you tolerated me, this despicable mass of seemingly incapable, uncreative, unwanted verbiage. He does not even speak and is dumb, does not know the world at all. In that I gave you the chance of being superior but it seemed like I was sapping your energies unto a parasite. You tolerated me and let me still into your world. This act was important because therein I was seeking in you the capability of wanting the unwanted. Now that you are sick and tired of me and ask me to prove myself, ,my love to you, I smile. Smile because i am still hungry for more of you, a little more of inactivity, some numbness more.

I will now show you me.
welcome to my world.