Monday, March 19, 2007

The Dance of the Golden Flame

The oil lamp lies in front of a potted tulsi plant. Enclosed within a wired mesh and set on a wooden pedestal, it is the only source of light in the balcony that also fuels this writing. A round shadow is cast all around the lamp with razor thin sparks emanating from its surface. The hollow wind is also sporadically wild and I watch the round shadow convulsing and expanding in perfect rhythmic harmonies with the wind. It is like watching a heart beat imperfectly; a young unfamiliar heart trying to rapidly find and adjust to the pace of the world around it. The dark shadow is a perfect circle, resembling a sunflower both in appearance and behavior. Its master is the light, be it the mighty sun or the miniscule lamp and it devotedly turns its face towards it and gaily hops around. Born from the light, it moves with the wind. The mosaic expanse that it rapidly covers is discernible both to the eye and through the silky touch of breeze across the cheek. From the golden flame and devoid of color, you transform the senses from touch to sight. I stand before you as I am, stripped of color and appearance and language, the atonal structure of my body in sharp contrast to your austere form and bow down in meek acceptance. You are my master, my guiding principle, my one source of light in the darkness of light. I will always be your disciple.

6 comments:

Sunil said...

Beautiful...
Its writings like these that initially fuelled my urge to put my thoughts into words. its amazing how i can virtually see all the things you have expressed, transforming the senses from "sight to touch" !! Thats the effect of good writing.
Beautiful.

ash said...

thanks sunil!

Me said...

Each time i watch the little lamp, it will definitely remind me of this post... Tender experiences and finespun expressions..

Krishna said...

Brilliant !!!

Pavan said...

Brillianto..I could actually visualize the things you have described in such vivid details

ash said...

thanks guys!