Gypsy

 The moon was behind the dark clouds and the air was perfectly still, He was standing on the tawny land, looking at the fading stars, they were glimmering as always. He was wet, almost drenched, with the water drops dripping:  he looked back at the tumultuous ocean, from which he sprung a few moments ago, so full of throbbing life, “ I am out of the greater life ” he thought.

 He took small steps and walked on the cold sand,   his feet shushing in the sand, still he managed to tread on “ but where I am going “he said to himself”. He looked at the vast desert, sprawled from him to unknown. He gazed and gazed, to find some end of the desert, but there was no end. He turned left, then right, and then in every possible direction to find some way out; “perhaps I am the first one to come here or the last one to arrive” He mumbled,  “May be I am tricked   ”. He looked bewildered.“ Where am I? What place is this? I have never known it before, nor I have any knowledge of it. Every thing looks so queer; I have never seen things like these before. Do I need to know every thing I see? But why do I need to know! I never wished to come here. I am forced to this existence”.

 The curtain of darkness became more darker; and the night was cold, he felt the coldness of desert, tearing his ribs, a   deep wave of chill traveled inside his body, he felt himself energized. He glanced back to see how far he had come, he was perplexed - he found himself where he was, not an inch difference. Then he noticed some thing, which kept moving when he moved; “What is  it that  walks besides me” he questioned himself  .It  was long and slanted and darker , hardly visible ,yet resembled him , he waved his hand in the air , it also trembled . This is some one like me imitating me” his heart filled with happiness, “At last I have found some one to  answer my questions  ” Who are you?”  He asked curiously, but no reply, he asked again and again and again: then he screamed, still no one answered. He looked again, “perhaps…. its my shadow But it is not like me; though it partly look like me, yet it is not my whole self. It is neither concrete nor full of flesh and blood, nor it breathes like me. Still I can’t deny; I can see, but I can’t touch it, how fragile yet unattainable existence. The creature whose sole existence is based upon me, who comes out and merges in me; still I can’t rule it, I only know, it look like  me: yet   :it is the refection of me not real me; like life – the true  reflection of pitiless death. But why call death pitiless, when no one has experienced it before , nor has any one come back to tell, how it feels, pain or pleasure or just nothing; perhaps….  all our assumptions about death are wrong .May be beyond death lies some thing…like….” He wanted to say but forgot what to utter.

 The chill was increasing, he kept on his tired body in constant pace towards the woods .He reached nearer and nearer and heard some voices, he heard it more clearly as he moved on, through the woods, between the tall trees and darkness, the shouts and cries were growing. There before his eyes, he saw some men like him , sitting in a circle  along the  blazing fire;  amid them was  a figure   , but it was not like them ,  dancing at the rolling beat and they were grunting  like beasts. Their screams and cries were mounting up, but she was dumb, only kept herself constant in motion, moving round and round with the rising beat. They were violent, fierce, exploding with passions, but she was whirling on the beat, on the rhythm with the same fervour , unyielding  unceasing , persistent on destruction , escalating  their madness , swelling   up their fury and anger , and breaking it  bit by bit  , for they were so helpless in her hands.

 And then he heard them growling together

“We want to know, for knowing is believing; yet we don’t know, if we really know, for knowing and unknowing is only perception of mind. And our belief at this time is uncertain, we cannot discern, we can only feel , the feeling of flesh in the air and the mad rhythm   enraging  us ,arousing us ,  inducing us , elevating us .This  waltz carries a strange  magic , which draws us towards you.  We understand what you want, what you desire to convey…the power of the motion, which has set every thing in motion eons ago … and there   along the wild beat, your frenzy infatuation with the unrestrained dance , maddening  throng upon   throngs , seething their blood like some     volcanic eruption .     You       intoxicated with your centuries old  fatal charm , every step  calculated , designed to captivate the minds of boisterous men , for you know what the power of expression means : and we who are the conquerors of the kingdoms and empires lie at your feet , begging your slight attention .O can you feel us ….!

We are thirsty , our tongues are cracked , we can hardly breath , shower  your  bounties  upon our withered spirits .We need to feel it , every inch of it ,yes we need all of it. Man’s heart is the  ultimate dome of imagination and  woman’s body is the ultimate expression . There is no language nor any language  do we need ..solely expression ,  expression - &  the  father of knowledge : yet  all human  expression is  only a segment of all known  knowledge . What about the unknown , the inexpressible , the unutterable , which is  so desired but can’t  be uttered nor gained ;the powerful knowledge of angels and God. We desire it .we desire it…but you can’t feel it : for  in your heart  you  never felt the  uproar for the things unknown , the mystery of the inner self with all its invading    darkness  ,crumbling the soul of the man ,raising his thirst  and he feels himself torn between heaven and earth ; yet each pinch of  pain raises his  upward flight , the journey  towards  unknown destination , towards the world  of  overwhelming ecstasy and absolute bliss , which is  far less than  real, yet he aches himself ,for  he can bear the pleasure of pain and you yield to it.  . You only feel  delight in our  eyes ,and we feel satisfaction in the idea of delight” .

 Her eyes were closed , her teeth clenched , she was mad and was maddening the crowd , moving with a stupendous energy  . And they were growling , groaning , roaring like wild beasts  ;their breaths broken only obsessed with her boundless  frenziness .And then she seemed to fall on the ground , her steps , her movements seemed  breaking , her spinning dwindling  , she was  shivering like withered leave , about to dash to the ground. Their excitement was increasing “ No we don’t want you  to stop , you will have to dance ,you will have to move , we are out of ourselves .We need more of it ;for there is no true knowledge than instinct itself, all else is  illusion . Then reckon us with your charm, move move move.  We want to feel every  moment of your ecstasy , which is so stimulating  , driving us to the edge of annihilation and we feel ourselves filled with this numinous  bliss . It is not you that we desire nor can  our thirst be satiated  with thousand more like you ; it is the illusion of your body which enthrall us ,  your body alone is much superior than your intellect  and you know it perfectly ; therefore your never desired intellect”.

But she tumbled down on  , all the rhythm and the beat  sank into death like silence. He felt his heart jerking out and all the cries and wildness of those men came to naught. She was lying lifelessly and they were calm , quiet, motionless and  obtused. And then she stormed again the savage dance , devastating the calmness of the murky night. She was fanatic , indeed fanatic, she was inclined towards her own destruction, exhausting herself, he knew she would. She wanted to spin the world but was spinning only by her own self….

 
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