Tragedy of Wanderer...

 

 

 

“She saw him sleeping by the window. Even though she knew he was here to kill her, he didn’t appear dangerous at all. He was sleeping like any other man she had been with, and yet she was drawn towards him as she had towards no one else. Rather she explored the idea whether he could really harm her, and if yes, how would he do it? She was not sure, but she felt no danger from him at that moment. Instead it was as if she was drawn to explore the idea how would she like him to kill, if he does decide to do so. She lay down near him and as if in a state of trance imagined him exploring the melting skin of her. She felt thrilled as she imagined him exploring the inches of her skin with a murderous look in his eyes, as if she was an oracle, to be sacrificed on the altars of the god, to be turned into an immortal for ever. She felt his gaze turning her naked, his fingers gripping at her weak points, his tongue wickedly greedy to devour the pound of flesh. she felt being torn apart, thrown and rolled down the path of sin. she could sense the cold steel across her throat, that could in a instant release all that was stuck in the prison of her body, as if she could fly beyond herself, never to return back. She was swaying vigorously in an orgasmic euphoria and she oozed beyond the boundaries of herself. She was flowing all over the stagnant geography of her’s, as if taking over her own mortal remains, drowning in her own abyss, floating in her own mirage. she reached beyond herself as well as reclaimed herself that moment, and it didn’t matter whether dead or alive, as if she wanted to announce he could not kill her (without her permission!). 

 

He woke up to a loud thunder and felt as if a lightening had struck him. She was lying there, motionless, near himself, naked in all her glory, at once at peace and chaotic. He could not make any sense of her. He could never understand her anyway, as if she remained a mystery to him. He felt stranded, so near to her yet so far. She had transcended herself and here he was, on a mission as if to reclaim her, only to find himself defeated and humbled.”

Praveen Parasar

17/02/2019

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“Inconsolable

One wishes to drown

In the tears;

The ground beneath refuses

Leaving behind, option

None other

Than to suffocate and float

Until, either the tears dry up

Or one sinks in the depths

Of uncertainty

Longing forever…”

Tragedy of Wanderer...

Scribbling

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“God was constructed to overcome the fear one faced through the moments of day and night, light and darkness and such contrasts, the construction was supposed to help one overcome the insecurities and impotency one was born with in an universe that proved too powerful for a being that dreaded being at mercy of chance survival. It needed something to advance through the brutal race for survival in the jungle and in the process sought refuge in the ideal figure of the god who could protect, help, motivate, and even rewrite the script if an act goes wrong, the idea was to use an ideal figure that one could look up to and survive drawing strength from it amidst the exhaustion that followed the struggle. It was a rather brilliant invention. The ideal figure that was to be a tool to help one overcome the dread and anxiety alike, while placing it at the epitome of jungle that now carried nothing but mere animals meant to be controlled and ruled, while one displayed an unimaginable success among all others behind the mask of the ideal, the omnipotent god.

The narrative was supposed to be as ideal as the figure of god itself, and yet sooner than later one found itself at the mercy of that invisible being. What was supposed to help overcome fear became the zenith of all the fear summed together. The God turned into satan and the master became the slave. The rules of the game are still the same but the players have changed their place while the creation has taken over the creator, and has turned itself into a monster that carries the omnipotence along, and yet one longs for an escape in the dark hours of solitude, alas! Who could help now?”

Praveen Parasar

22/07/2018