Saturday, January 3, 2009


It is lonely. Ironic, however, they wouldn't notice. They, with their complaints of starvation, devastation; they, mired in the fear of imminent extinction, shouldering the burden of sin; they, looking skyward for His guidance and shuddering at the merest thought of His presence.

But they seek comfort in each other's gaze, catching joy (however fleeting it may be) on the waves of their speech, fulfillment etched in company.

Below, the day has been long, made longer with the reluctant dimming of the afternoon, fading into evening. And as the night glimmers, He settles back, wearily, to rest.

The air chokes, humid - heavy with expectations. It's the end of another disappointment.

And He watches.

None of it's turned out, really, as He had planned.

He sees them now as they hurry, tracing paths that swirl and loop, twirling until their frantic activity blurs. Their orb glows, and He is mesmerized for the brevity of a butterfly's flutter. Enamored with their own glassy evanescence, they build towering monuments of metal, sculpting the majestic peaks and valleys of bridges, moving earth. Rivers flow under their direction, cutting and sharp; they design pictures to represent landscapes, images to replace strokes of art.

They won't remember Him for another few hours, He knows, and He wonders momentarily if they ever really remember Him at all.

They clutch trinkets, bejeweled and sparkling. Lovely. But trinkets do not build castles, cannot imitate fate.

It's not enough, now, to hope.

He sees the reflection from a woman's mirror, her vacant expression flickering, then vanishing. Vaguely, He hears the shrill shriek of a siren, desperate.

It wasn't always like this, He thinks. Before, back when He longed to coexist with His created universe, meshing mortal and eternal, when He wished to be the light of harmony - He foolishly imagined they would listen.

It hardly matters now, though, that He set out to do good, that He envisioned companions to brighten His empty existence. These companions clung to each other instead, and isolation found Him again, gaping and harsh. Nor is there any significance in the sapphire sphere He sees before him, pulsating with the life He birthed - it is no more His than it is its own, no more rare or beautiful than just another tainted perfection, torn carelessly, then haphazardly stitched back into existence.

He is all too familiar with sacrifice, knows far too well the taste of loss. And He laughs bitterly, for even He can no longer recognize the warped illusion that was once His passion, for even He has lost sight of its once-brilliant splendor.

He dares not admit they frighten him.

But they have their civilizations, complexities woven and tangled, mistakes. They have each other, but their brothers are enemies and they construct walls of mistrust, only to tear them down in fits of rage that He cannot comprehend. Justice, potent when laced with the shadows of greed, is far too powerful a temptation, and they cannot defy it - they do not try to resist.

They slaughter for pride, savoring a short-lived vengeance.

He doesn't understand.

He sees hunger written in their strained interactions, pleas for compassion. Empathy.

A girl lies under her covers, strands of hair visible around a pillow, breathing unevenly. He watches, and He knows she is broken.

In the darkness, they're weak.

They look up to Him, now, eyes gleaming, whispering a prayer before retiring - hope resting on an unshakable faith. He watches, and He sees their blindness. In the clarity, they are no more than children - bereft, searching. And just as He did, they ask for answers.

They, who can now control survival, treating life as a craft to bend to their every whim; they, who overlooked caution to pursue glory; they, who saw the end of His hopes - they are lonely.

But He can no longer call them His, and - no - He doesn't know how to help. He is lost as well, grasping, confused and despairing.

He watches the trembling of a little boy's eyelids in slumber, and He knows nothing.

In the stillness, He watches them.

Their flaws are His flaws, their errors traceable back to His hands. They are neither perfection nor harmony, but neither is He.

And there is hope etched in company.


Prasant Naidu. said...

I will post my thoughts on the above piece in sometime.
Rest you read it right(Bada Din), I knew that you would read it.
Okay one more thing about your comment on ur frnd's blog where you have talked about experience.

S@: Experience cant teach alot, coz no new event/person/situation will 'ever' be exactly the same to take help from the old and applied. No tried and tested formula.

P@: I do agree that every day is new and every event is new. 2 scenarios can happen either the event has some resemblance of your past events. So you can apply your methods from there. Like a math problem. Second scenario would be those unique types but then even though you can't use your old tried and tested methods but the confidence will always boost your Grey cells to solve them. For example lets take your profession. A courtroom will be different every day but when Bro walks in there even though the case is very different and unique. I am sure he will have the gut feeling back in his mind "Maah ki ankh I can solve this case.....cause out of some 50 cases in past he has done great "

In short experience helps :)

imperfect said...

ok boss, so lets put it this way, courtroom battles and 'life' per se is different. But even there, dealing with a particular judge in a particular manner will never gaurentee your bro a 10/10. ;) just because the previous one got charmed ;)
Nor does dealing with girlfriends, friends, relatives ever did. When we deal with people , we just can't keep past in our mind. Cause if that had to happen then probably people who have been betrayed once, will never trust again, someone who does a car accident once will never drive again? The list can be endless.
Experience however is a relative term,
its presence might or might not make a person wiser, but its absolute importance; given by people who have more of it , is something I completely disagree with.