CHAPTER 10

  They finally met. Mayank had to postpone his proposed encounter with her earlier. Sunday was usually a working day for him and he narrated all past event chain to her to explain why he was free even on Sunday and had suddenly landed at her flat to be with her. He was expecting some trouble but not what came his way.

  “This is not fair...you cheated me…”, she said smiling. “I had planned to leave my job this month and you grabbed the joy for yourself first. Selfishness…utter opportunism!”

  He smiled and asked, “Why would you quit?”

  “You remember, once you had told me something about non-violence. You had said that non-violence essentially had to be ingrained in thought and violence of action would automatically get checked.”

  “Yes, you are right. Violence of action is only a miniscule proportion of the overall human violence as violence of thought fills up the major part. That is why I said, violence should be checked in its inception itself and non-violence of thought does it quite well.”

  “Exactly...and then you had added that the best way to ensure non-violence of thought is to be physically out of the place and environment where you feel your true personality is not at peace.”

  Yes, I had said that but if you are strong enough, you do not need to be physically out; just moving mentally away from the place can do.”

  “I have in mind the same thing and so, I want to quit.”

  “Is there no way out?”

  “Does not look like...you know; stupidity is a highly contagious disease and there is only prevention, no cure for it. Keep safe and sufficient distance from stupid is the only way out to avoid being inflicted with the dreaded disease called stupidity.”

  “But you also have to be sure there is a real threat of the disease lurking on the head. Most of the times, there is a panic reaction and that makes even an innocuous threat look bigger. Usually, primary stage stupidity, like most communicable diseases can be quarantined to prevent its spread.”

  “May be; but I also had something more important in my mind.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I will tell you later. Let us not talk about it. Mine would happen but yours has already happened. What made you quit?”

  “We have the whole of evening and night; I will tell you everything but not right now.”

  “Then let us sleep together”, she exclaimed in joy, reverting to her usual baby-disposition, wrapping her around him.

  “Nobody is sleeping tonight”, he said in serious tone. “We have things to talk.”

  “But I want to sleep with you”, she complained like a kid.

  “I make coffee for you; it will douse your sleep.”

  “I don’t want coffee...I want you”, she said sulking.

  He gave her a resolute look; pulled her close, made her ride his back and entered the kitchen to make coffee. She remained tightly tied to his back all the while he made coffee and acted as if she was fast asleep. He softly dumped her on the sofa and placed the cups on the table in front. She continued to feign sleep as he sipped his coffee alone.

  “Once upon a time, there was a king”, Mayank said without looking at her as she continued to remain motionless on the sofa. “The king had only a daughter and she was famous for her beauty in all neighborhood kingdoms. The young princess was not only beautiful but also a very good-hearted lady whom everyone loved. Once, she was in the royal orchards playing with flowers, birds and small animals who all enjoyed her company. The day progressed and when she slept on the grass-bed under a tree, she could not remember. Incidentally, the devil of the jungle passed by her and out of jealousy, he decided to play a trick with her. He stole the expression of the princess. She returned to the palace with an expressionless face and mannerisms. She looked like a statue. She did not smile, showed no emotions and did everything quite mechanically. The king got to know of the developments and called the doctors. Later, magicians, tricksters, clowns, saints and every type of experts were called but nobody could help. The panicky king tried to marry her off expecting some change after marriage but all the princes who came after getting the invitation refused to marry her. Nobody wanted a wife who was literally a statue. The king was sad and the entire kingdom was doomed.”

  He paused for a while as he realized that she had shuffled her position on the sofa. He continued, “One day, a tantric came to the palace seeking alms. He asked the king what was wrong as the king looked in poor health. The king narrated his woes. The tantric urged the king to take him to the royal orchard. The tantric immediately understood what had happened and he used his power to invoke the devil of the woods. The devil appeared and the king fell on his feet imploring him to forgive his daughter. The devil relented but put a condition. He said he would take back his curse and the princess would come back to her normal self but in return he would take away something from her. The king happily asked what he would like to take away as he was ready to even give him the entire kingdom for her daughter’s smile. The devil said he would take away her beauty and give back her expressions. The king was shocked. He was very proud of her daughter’s beauty and could not imagine how she would react if her beauty is taken away. The devil was adamant and the king was very unsure what he should do. The devil gave the king a day’s time to decide and disappeared. The devil also warned the king that if he shared what had happened there with anyone else, he would be dead.”

  She had opened her eyes and had started sipping coffee, listening carefully what he was saying. She looked anxious and quite interested in the story.

  “So, what the king decided? What happened to the princess?”

  Mayank did not reply. He picked up the empty cups and took them to the kitchen. She followed him there. Mayank washed the cups silently, put them in place and entered the bed room while she followed him. He stretched himself on the bed facing her. She waited for him to resume the story but he kept quite.

  After a while, she moved out of the room, checked the main door to ensure it was properly locked, put off lights of all the rooms. It was already dark outside. She switched off her mobile phone and sneaked into the bathroom.

  He felt overwhelmed by a sudden touch of silk and sandal. She was on top of him; her body still moist and cool. Drops of fragrant water from her wet hair lashed his face as she kissed him softly on the lips.

  “Sorry”, she kept her lips locked with him and said.

  It was dark. Her long black tresses covering his face anyway made him blind to any reality outside! ….Love and total intimacy is so complete, so absolute. When love comes your way, you do not want more of it; you just want the infinity of it. Love is so fulfilling, so perfect that you cannot want more of it...there cannot be more of it as love does not come in half measures. You do not even want to be a lover; you just desire that you become love itself, dissolve your being into it to become it and not do it. A strange idea revisited him whenever he realized he ceased to be a lover and become love itself. He wished to die the moment he turned the love. He did not want an identity other than love and wished he died that moment so that he could enter the eternity of love. Only love made death beautiful and acceptable…. The darkness was perfect. His identity, her personality and the sorry were all dissolved into the darkness. The whole universe, the realism and the being-ness, all melted into love.

  She showered a hundred kisses on him. The weight of the mass of physicality of intimacy brought back the connect with the actual world to him. He for a moment thought, ‘love is so consummate and ultimate; does it leave any space for anything more? Why does he want to add more to it? Why he insists to make personality changes in her? Why would he risk giving shape to the formlessness of love? Will he be able to control the eventuality? What if he actually loses love in an attempt to make it more meaningful?’ That’s why he was there; to find answers.

  He kissed her back, hugged her tightly till she let out a sigh. He was sure, if he had to make her listen to what he had decided to tell her, he had to do it with overdos
e of intimacy. She needed to be highly emotionally secure if he wanted her to accept changes in her. She felt the confidence after a while and repeated her question:

  “Won’t you tell me what the king decided about the princess and what happened to her finally?”

  “The story has no specific end. It is just a possibility; like life. What the king will choose the princess’ fate would depend on and the story will end that way. And this is life; the predicament, the conflict and the discretion. Anyone can be in the king’s place. And there can be people like the princess; none of her fault but she had to be at the center of all tribulations of life.”

  “But the king should know what is best for the princess; after all he is a father and a king too. On his prudence and right discretion depends the fortunes of millions of citizens of his kingdom! If fathers ain’t good enough to protect the best interests of their daughters, it is truly tragic.”

  “You should consider the fact that all good people may not take all right decisions. An important decision is usually taken after consultations and the kings are used to it. But the devil has forbidden him to share his trouble to anyone. He only has the tantric to consult.”

  “Oh yes...I really forgot that. So what the tantric thought was the right thing to do?”

  “What you think is the right thing to do?”

  “Why me? This is not fair! It is your story; you should know better.”

  “Forget the story. If you have to choose for yourself, what you would want; the beauty or the expressions?”

  She kept quiet for a minute and said smiling, “Why should I decide? It is for you to decide. I will love you whatever and however I am. You decide which way you would want me and still love me.”

  He could not resist a smile. He knew she would throw the onus on him. And what she said was also true. She only understood love and intimacy. All other realities were entrusted to him.

  “Can I decide for you, should I”, he said in a low solemn voice, gently laying her beside him but continuing her in his soft embrace. “It’s something that primarily affects you and your entire life. And you will be deeply influenced by it. Things at stake are not trifle. The beauty is not only for mirror, it is for you first and then for the entire world. And expressions...it is as important as breathing.”

  “You are right there but why should only girls be troubled with all things in life. You said the princess was also very good hearted and she did nothing wrong to deserve this punishment from the devil. She was actually in deep slumber when her world came crashing on her feet and she could not even realize why. Did she deserve to face all these troubles?”

  “That is why I told you earlier; this is life; full of uncertainties, some time golden but often black. Then; you should also consider carefully the details of the story. The girl in question is a princess and she also happens to be phenomenally beautiful; three best endowments of life – wealth & comfort, authority & status and beauty & fame. And why do you think there is a devil in this world. The devil is out there to level out things; set off a balance of sorts. This world has love, intimacy, care, compassion etc as golden uncertainties and in the same space jealousy, anger, pride, selfishness etc as black certainties also exist. One human body possesses them all simultaneously. Well; this is a story and that’s why for convenience and brevity, the devil has been personified as some outside entity but usually, it is the devil inside that starts the trouble. And as you said, even if you do not make a mistake, the devil inside you creates such environment that a harm looks like an external creation. The devil in the story is just a symbol. May be, the princess had taken undue pride of her possessions, anybody can; such enormous were the possessions and may be over a period had turned herself away from the world outside. Probably, her pride made her loose contact with people and she ultimately lost her expressions. May be; the many princes, who came to see her after the king invited them to marry her, had earlier felt insulted by her behavior of exclusivity and when they saw her in such trouble, they felt great joy in refusing her.”

  She did not say a word. Looked at him for a while; her lips quivered as if she wished to say something. Tears lined up on the margins of her eyes. He could not see it in the darkness and realized that she was in tears only when the first drop fell on his cheek.

  “Oh god…! Why should you weep? What happened?”

  She did not reply and gently freeing herself from his embrace went inside the bathroom. He smiled, as if he knew it was coming. He took the opportunity, went to the kitchen to get some food for her. He had brought some cheese sandwiches which he had himself made at home as she liked them. He warmed them in the microwave oven and came back to the bedroom to find her sitting on the bed.

  He did not light the room. He sat beside her. Made her eat with his hands but she would not eat. He knew what it took to make her happy. He placed a pillow on her lap and rested his head on it, stretching on the bed. He kept the plate of sandwiches on his chest. He could see her face even in the darkness. He could read the thoughts that were marking their impression on her face.

  “Darkness is so good. It makes both beauty and expressions redundant. In the darkness, all issues of life lose their existence; no questions and so no answers. I am in your lap but even then I cannot see either your beauty or your expressions. But still, I am the happiest man in the world now as I love you and I do not need to see it; I feel love and want to continue with the feeling alone. And, they say love is blind; darkness anyway. So, do I want beauty or expressions?”

  That was enough! She picked up a sandwich and took a bite. She munched it a bit and then as was usual with her, she joined her lips with him and put the whole morsel in his mouth. In their relationship, they had created an alternative language which alone could communicate the highest and purest forms of emotions, affection and care. This was the language of intimacy. This was the language powered by vibes and it could not be faked. When he would hug her close and the two bodies melted to lose both their physical and mental identities, dishonesty and hypocrisy were squeezed out. The lips locked together would immediately know any miniscule element of fakeness. The body knows the last truth. The baby stops crying as the mother suffocates all doubts by hugging him close to her bosoms. This language takes off where the humanly created words fail to communicate.

  “Won’t you want to know what the king finally decided”, he said as they finished sandwich.

  “No...but I want to know what you wanted to talk about. I am a silly girl and you know that well. I felt bad as I thought you were not telling me straight forward, something you wanted to. It’s not your fault however. You had told me that you wanted to talk but my stupidity made you do it. But I had said sorry to you.”

  “Yeah...it stretched a bit too far. It was not intended. Sorry.”

  “Remember, you yourself say, ‘lovers should not speak, love should’, she said innocently.

  He wished to say to her that it was his love for her that was prompting him to speak but he chose not to say. He needed to guide her to a condition where it would be easy for her to listen what he had in his mind. Speaking is a waste until there is complete desire to listen. Intimacy makes one receptive. It creates a trust that is a must for right reception of what is said.

  “Okay, let the love speak...and how would that be?”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you...”, she was back to her guiltless best. “Let us sleep together... my lips and your lips will say hello hi to each other...our eyes will say something something to one another… our hearts will meet and pick up a chat...our tummies will kiss each other and discuss recipes...our legs will cross and talk about the journeys ahead...and...”

  “And what…?”

  “What...! It’s their choice...”, a tweak of her impish tongue was palpable. “What love will do to us how can I say...love is unfettered...when love speaks, how long and how far it will go how can I know...!”

  “Okay...no problems...and when will we talk?”


  “Naturally, when love will finish its talk…! And who knows, there may not be then any need of we talking.”

  He understood well there was no scope for words. He resigned to her desires. The darkness that she had opted had a light leading them to a definite end. He could see the end but was not sure of the journey ahead after they both reached there. He had realized that there was a clear gender divide on approaching things. Intimate and meaningful communication would give him a definite high. He would go an extra mile in reaching out solutions. He would discuss issues, analyze all possible aspects and lay out the reason and logic for to be or not to be questions. His satisfaction doubled at the sense of success of a communication enterprise even when it did not yield desired results. For her, immaculate sense of well-being was the only worthy enterprise and an explicit overdose of intimacy was the best prescription. Men would be at their best when faced with a challenge and women would be when love and intimacy abound. It is truly tragic that men’s enterprises would often lead to situations which would destruct the sense of well-being of their women.

  He for sure did not want to disturb her intimacy quotient but he had his doubts. His woman was perfect for this stage of their intimacy but he was always very unsure whether she would understand that everything in this world changes as part of a certain evolution mechanism. She would be required to evolve herself, her love and her sense of intimacy as they would grow together in time and space. He wanted a talk. He wished to acquaint her with the challenges that he could see ahead in their relationship. He never was really prepared to lose even a tiny bit of the fragrance and sweetness of their relationship even ten twenty years down the line. He had seen most of the couples just dragging their relationship. Most stuck to it as parting ways was inconvenient proposition. He would admit he was scared. He felt a happy and meaningful relationship; especially husband-wife was a huge enterprise. Nothing in it should be taken for granted. It needed immense and daily physical as well as mental investment, very cautious emotional nurturing and great intuition to keep the relationship fresh and tender.

  Man and woman together can create a universe of joys. He had little doubt that the two were designed and had evolved in such a way that together, the complementary energies of man and woman had all that was required to be in infinite state of ecstasy. When the energies of intimacy and love would either lose their purity or would fizzle out, matter would start filling up the empty spaces between man and woman. The pelf, the position the pronouncements of material well-being are all just the subterfuge of intimacy. In his journalistic career, he had closely witnessed the lives of big and mighty of the society. A journalist often has information and knowledge which are not printable but they give him a deep insight into the minds of people high and low. Mighty and iconic politicians, corporate colossus, spiritual gurus, media barons, film stars ruling million hearts...he had seen them all from close quarters. He firmly believed; all enterprises of men in their purest form were exercises towards attaining intimacies. It is a great humor of life that men actually believe that more they attain material accomplishments of life; better eligible they are for larger intimacies. It is enormous tragedy that men waste the best of their abilities and creativity in amassing material success to buy intimacies; which essentially comes naturally and free of material cost. And, if endowments of intimacies come at a cost, they are not true ones; unfit for an enterprise worth a salt.

  Yes...many successful men would boast of savoring the taste of selective and delectable recipes of beautiful intimacies. Being in media, he would be bored by the favorite time pass of his colleagues discussing with lots of masala the intimate lives and antics of politicians, bureaucrats and even their own bosses. He remained least interested as this he considered as nothing compared to the harems of the mighty of the past and even present. The harems are actually living proof of one of the greatest travesties of men’s world. The mighty man picked up horses from far off places; of great breeds and pedigrees. His royal stable symbolized his power but the horses actually fought magnificent battles and many died while saving lives of their masters. They also raised large harems and exceptionally beautiful women from all over the places would be forcibly housed in them. They also symbolized the power of the king but unlike horses, the women in the harems did not perform the roles they were naturally endowed with. The kings would posses and relish the volume and mass of intimacy but not the energy and fragrance of intimacy. The mighty consumed excess of the body of intimacy but not a bit of its soul. And that’s why; he was never satisfied with the size of his harem. He would add more women and lose more pride. The men would go to lots of women to find something that a woman is enough to give but would never get that one woman. The harem is the mortuary of intimacies but the mighty would not admit it. He knew it quite well that most men have the ultimate dream to be like a king and possess such a harem. The common man keeps his harem in his heart; the successful and mighty get the chance to descend it from their hearts to their chosen bed. Only a few mighty men fail the chance.

  He remained on the bed and his mind was racing up with thoughts. He understood it well that he was not in tandem with the beauty of the time in present but was messed up with a time that was yet to come. He even tried to stop being apprehensive and drift along the present which was so blissful but his mind would not partner with him. But he did not know; he was making a cardinal mistake. He was seeing reality from his own viewpoint and taking that of her as granted. She had equal stakes in his reality and what she had in her mind, what she had kept in abeyance to shock him, he could not even have an inkling of. She was in the kitchen readying dinner before she said ‘love would start speaking’. He waited on the bed. Time waited too; so did his destiny.

  All beautiful and important attainments of life happen in a semi-conscious state of mind. The mind cannot recall them in vivid details. There would be just a ghost feeling...one would remember he or she was there when that happened to him or her but what exactly happened, the mind does not register it. The ultimate in love and intimacy happens in semi-conscious state of mind. God happens in semi-conscious state. Life happens and death happens in the same state of mind. Bodies are needed for the initiation but the attainment comes with bodies becoming redundant. Hands are needed for prayers to start but when godliness happens, prayer withers away. Bodies set up sex but orgasm ensures; the mass of flesh melts into energy.

  He tried in vain to relive the moments that he had with her an hour back but all he could recollect was a feeling that he was there. He still lived the profoundness of the bliss of togetherness but could not recall in vivid details what had happened. She had fixed the dinner and gone to the bathroom; that he had seen. She had called him from there wanting some help. The door of bathroom was ajar but still he had asked her if he could come in. She had asked him in. The light was not on but it was not completely dark. Some feeble radiance from outside light made him see things. She was sitting beneath the shower, on the floor. After few seconds, when his eyes got adjusted to the dim light, he could see more than the outlines of her body. He could see clearly…. he shedding lots of the weight of unnecessary carriages of his personality; his male ego, his self doubts...and his natural awkwardness with his own body. He could see entirely new dimensions….

  He had realized quite early in his life that the one single fact of life which presents itself to all humans as greatest enemy and which every human has to befriend is not greed, not ego, not pride but fear. He had read the religious scriptures and had realized that all rational men and men of genius sought only one thing from God. They called the almighty – bhav bhay niwarak – solution provider to the fears of the world and prayed him to make humans understand fear and make fear his best friend. He accepted this as a certain sign of inferior intelligence of men as compared to the women. Females never seek fearlessness from God. They have the superior intelligence to understand the simple fact that God is all powerful and when something is sought from a powerful person, one should see
k not the negation of something but the affirmation. That’s why; females seek love from God – His love and love for all in this universe. The women have the innate acumen to realize that when love prevails, fear loses its existence. Women always seek root goodness whereas men would look for the fruits of goodness. That’s why most men end up having a barren tree of life.

  …a woman’s beingness is bhav bhay niwarak… truly, God’s stamp on earth.

  He remembered, once, when he was only a twelve-year old, he had fallen from a tree and despite his best efforts could not breathe. He had seen his mother rushing towards him from a distance but he had virtually accepted that before she would come, he would die of breathlessness. His limbs had already got numbed and he could not even let out a cry. His mother had hugged him tight to her bosoms and though he still could not breathe, he had lost his fatal fear. He remembered till date (and smiled now for his foolishness), how he was at peace being in his mother’s lap and had prominently felt an icy sense of contentment that when he would die, his soul would enter the soul of his mother as she had her heart kissing his heart. As his sense of shock and fear had got dissipated, his breath had been restored. Even today, his fatal fears had only one solution; not God but his mother’s bosoms which had clinched his first fear when he had come out of the secure walls of her womb.

  …. A woman’s beingness is man’s ultimate prayers come true….

  The tiny vapors of shower had been reaching his face. He had stood in a stupor; quietly experiencing his inside feelings. As a director of a movie makes all the right moves to ensure that all the scenes shot of a particular script in hand descends down on the celluloid in a way he or she had visualized them in his or her mind; she called him to make movements and he, as a dedicated actor, who has full confidence in his director, performed the scenes as per her command. She had asked him to pull off his clothes and come in. She made him sit close to her under the shower, their faces facing each other. She insisted he kept looking at her face and her eyes. Instinctively, he had lowered his eyes. His intimacies with her had been with touches...his eyes would automatically close when she would get bodily intimate with her. What eyes see, mind registers and responds best but differently. Visual intimacies are excruciating...difficult to receive. You touch a fire and its heat makes your mind respond instantly. And, when you see a fire burning, the myriad colors that it exudes make mind respond differently. Mind warns to withdraw but simultaneously wishes to keep looking at it. You love watching it…and strangely, even desire to capture it in your fists... the golden hue, the red core, the bluish outlines, the grayish smoke head...each triggers off different feelings in the heart.

  Visual intimacies are agonizing like a fire...he withdrew first. She upped his face with her soft palm. She whispered on his lips to see her well...understand her through his eyes…explore her with the help of his eyes...she kissed his eyes and asked him, “… let your eyes see me in fullness, nakedness and completeness...it is important...you must do it… let me be very sure that you do it... I want to ensure that even if I do not know myself well, you must...you know what is best for me; you should also know me better than me...” .

  The art is in symmetry and it is awesomely beautiful. Never in his life had he seen the form, the symmetry, the chiseled undulations, the righteousness and the profundity of an art. All of a sudden, he felt an agonizing sense of guilt. He felt dwarfed by the magnanimity of the perfection of the art. ‘How can men be so blind...’, he said to himself. ‘How can they be so brute...how can a man muster up the courage to defile the art...how dare they...oh my God!’ He felt ashamed; feeling guilty that he unfortunately was a part of the discreditable legacy of the male world... he wanted to move out. But he did not write the script. The director knew what was best and what was next.... She had closed the shower and handed him the soap. He could see; she had closed her eyes. This gave him the courage….

  The music had begun...the ultimate melody had started filling up the universe...each element, every bit of body and soul had started absorbing the composition. The cells had passed on the message to the tissues and the dance had started to happen...! The notes were struck perfect...both the bodies had started humming sounds originating from the bellybottom...the resonance of the molten lava that jostles to burst out of the surface of earth from beneath the bellybottom of the earth...the naad swar (primeval sound) of creation...the whining of God’s avowal of shrishti (creation)...the bodies melt, existentialism liquefies; the expression takes the form of dance...the form of godliness...a definite invitation for the universe to bow in total deference to the energy of creation...silence..silence...!

  The music had filled up all spaces...a rarity. He understood; music is everywhere in the universe but it was very rare for humans to find it in their lives. A very rare discipline of harmony and surrender of senses is required for the realization of ultimate music of life. He had heard it from someone. Once there was a world renowned singer who was considered the ultimate master of music. When he was dying, a disciple sat at his feet and asked, ‘master...you know music better than anyone living or dead in this universe. Please tell us what the greatest music is’. The master closed his eyes and said, ‘I did not know it for long but now, when I am dying, I can say with conviction that greatest music on earth is compassion in the heart’. He understood; he felt compassion...he lived the music...he rendered the composition of compassion...! He understood; music needed great discipline...the discipline of saat sur (seven notes) ...the regulations of taal (beats) ...the obligations of laykaari (melody) ... then only came the accomplishments of a musician to qualify for his own musical adaaygi (rendition). And that is not the desired end of music. A great musician needs thousands of hours of riyaaz (practice) to reach a stage in music which the connoisseurs say, ‘Aaj ustaad ne kah di hai (the maestro has said it)…’ The first four stages are learning the language and being proficient in it but expression of poetry comes rarely. Poetry comes with compassion. Music scales greatness...godliness with compassion. A compassionate heart is music’s true source... the God’s abode...

  The music had replenished the space with compassion... it was made possible. The stage was ideal. Love and intimacy, the supremacy and all pervasiveness of it, sets it on. The absoluteness of intimacy initiates the poetry and the heart is soaked up with compassion…. He had felt his guilt washed away...passion had bowed out the moment compassion ascended the throne.

  The transformation had begun...! When rains wash the face of earth, each and every speck of it looks new and different....her eyes looked so large and heavy; he had seen them before. The long and black curls of her looked longer as his hands reached their ends...her limbs, her back, the neck...the soft shoulders...the verve below...the ascent and descent of seven steps of heaven...oh! …every touch made him realize he was discovering a completely new she.

  A déjà vu...certainly...most certainly...she was not what he had known for over a year but the new ‘she’, was very much what he had known for ages...what? Something so vivid, so ostensible but still so elusive... so intangible...! His realism had got metamorphosed. He did not stop...the journey must not stop before it reaches destination and then, the realization dawns upon that it was not what had initiated and energized the journey.

  And finally...he touched the woman...moments of beinglessness…a sharp shrill down his spine...and he attained it...he dropped the soap...curled up, crying, closing all his senses... he crept into her lap...slowly but surely pushing himself to her womb...she wept too...curled her up and shoved him firmly to accommodate him, imbibe him in her fullness. The compassion took both of them in its refuge...compassion made her the womb...the highest repository of human compassion. And, compassion melted his gender...made him a fetal reality...! Coiled up in her womb, he understood the déjà vu...he attained it...the infinity... he realized the unknowable...

  She remained motionless in his arms. Both of them had forgotten dinner; opting for the comfort of the bed, resting as just
-born enjoined twins. Nothingness is the recipe of intimacy...even redundant is unnecessary...! Time however cannot be wished away. It was 2 am when she checked the watch. He too moved as she slipped out of his embrace. She went to the kitchen to make some tea and he opened the windows to allow the fresh breeze in. He took out the bed sheet, clothes were such a burden… wrapped the sheet around him and moved to the living room. She brought one large cup of tea. He took her inside the bed sheet as both sat on the couch. They sipped tea together.

  Rise up before the Sun does and see the magic, the old prudence has it. He was used to the timing. He would not return home until the printing machine ran the first copy of the late city edition at 3.30 am. For her however, this was a new experience. She felt a strange rejuvenation. This was the right time to direct the climax that she had in her mind. How unaware he was...

  “Say something...”, she whispered in his ears.

  “What...”, he asked softly.

  “You had said you wanted to talk...something important!”

  “Yeah...I did. But now I am not sure what I wanted was necessary...even right.”

  “You are always right. I cannot see you go wrong...I don’t want to. And, I think I know what you wanted to say. That’s why I say you were right.”

  He looked in her eyes; her determined self was clearly visible. He kissed them.

  “My princess, you do not know us men. We breathe the legacy of corruption of intellect...we are the directionless and destructive energy of the universe. We men are born in contradiction and die in confusion.”

  “My man is not part of the legacy”, she said promptly, rubbing her lips to his and grabbing him in her arms. “My man understands contradictions and that’s why he is above everything...he is not the man the way it is... he is my God; gender-neutral and formless like him.”

  He could not say a word. He appreciated the word gender-neutrality. He had often realized that he lost his man-identities when in total intimacy with her and even did not register her as a woman. The formlessness anyway was his favorite existential positioning. But this was not easy.

  “You scare me”, he whispered to her. “You put me on such pedestals I can never justify. I am already so nervous...I never think I am good enough to deserve you.”

  “You say that and I may say the vice versa. The reality is; we do not have to be in deserving business. We do not even have to be in the confusion of mutual expectations. We are two lives and we have to ensure that together we create such a positive environment which develops and perfects conclusive complementarities between us. Of course; I am a woman and you are my man. But when I and you will it to be us, we will need to rise above socially prevalent standards of gender-role exclusivity.”

  Since evening she had been a revelation. He had never expected her to say what she had said. He realized she had more to say. He understood; the first ray of Sun would bring in a new world where some of his questions would lose relevance and rest would get answered for good. He put in his left hand fingers into her curls and very tenderly rubbed her back with his right arm fingers. She rested her head on his chest.

  “Say it please...don’t stop”, he said and kissed her forehead. “This day is so unblemished, so full of divinity’s exquisiteness, so very enlightening...I am very sure each of the words you speak will add a meaning to our lives.”

  “Hold me tight so that I have the confidence and conviction to speak to my God.”

  “You are a woman, you need no help, and your womb holds the truth of the universe...your God is born out of your womb.”

  The Sun is not the first to rise up. Before it wakes up, the breeze gets up and heralds the morning. The pre-dawn breeze wakes up the trees, the birds and those humans who understand life. The nature wakes up before the Sun does and nature stirs the potential from slumber. The potential hits the morning alarm bell for all those humans who understand purity and purpose of life. As she readied to say what she had planned to say, the pre-dawn breeze started to blow. The nature and all its elemental energies sat around her to listen. The light of the day awaited her...

  “I have understood what you have been trying to make me realize”, she said in low whispering voice but he was all ears. “I did not tell you but I’ve been thinking over it. I am so happy, so proud of you...I feel so blessed; I feel no need of prayers and I call you my God not out of the intensity of my love for you. I understand I have to be in your light to become a perfect person and that is what God is – the highest benchmark of human perfection. I know, you too would wish to say the same about me. And God you are for me because you want me to be perfect not for yourself but for my own joys and satisfaction in life. I am so proud to have you; I am even scared at times.”

  “But, I am a human, probably better positioned to qualify as your man than God.”

  “That’s where my problems also start. I am a woman. We are into a man-woman relationship. If I can understand what it is to be a woman, I also do appreciate what it is to be a man. You look at life in terms of purpose, higher attainments, issues and agendas. I am a woman. And I think I understand what is being a woman. You have also helped me immensely in understanding what elemental womanhood is and I call you my God because it is the woman in you that made me learn what I was missing as a woman. You made me a perfect woman and I am so happy and proud that I have attained what I was born for. But you are a man. You define perfection from benchmarks which you see not as man or woman but human; a goodness common for all. Here you think I need to do more and add in my personality. You think it will make me happier and enhance my contentment; not as a woman but as a human.”

  “...it seemed to me that life’s goodness and purpose was gender-neutral. Woman or man is a non-issue. Both are humans and equally entitled to attain the goodness of life. But that was yesterday. Today I feel unsure. I can say what I said probably needs scrutiny. This evening has probably changed something in me. I am even not sure which way I should say I am a man. I am probably more woman today. You have sort of absorbed me fully. If I am a man right now then probably like a baby boy; unaware of my gender.”

  “You know, I am never good with words. You too know it well that my expression is poor. But I have been wanting to tell you that I have been thinking over this conflict of sorts between us...forgive my ignorance for not choosing the right word to express myself. I have spent many sleepless nights over it. I assessed what and why you wanted me to see things in life and groom myself for that ends. For many days I felt confused and even in some sort of conflict with your ideas. I think I am either a big fool or too innocently simple but I could only come to the conclusion that we basically want to reach the same destination in our relationship but our roads to approach it looks separate. I am not sure how to put it but I hope you get me right. I think there are two broad issues with us. First, we are into a man-woman relationship...I am a woman and you are a man; there cannot be a denial to body segregation. Second; we are into love and supreme intimacy. The fact looks like; the gender agendas are different and love’s requirement is different. Gender seeks role segregation and love seeks unification. Is that what we wanted to talk about?”

  He nodded in affirmation and kept quite. He did not want to obstruct her flow of thoughts by making certain refinements in her observations.

  “What I have come to the conclusion is; and again I say, I am probably too foolish or too simple to form such an opinion; there is actually no confusion, no conflict. When you live true to your gender identity as man, you also want me to refine my woman-specific gender role and rise up to accept roles that are human; not man not woman. That basically means that life’s attainment requires us to dissolve our gender-identities. And, when you are in complete intimacy with me, you yourself said you stop being a man and become more of a woman. I too lose my identity as woman. Absolute love dissolves gender-identities. So, you see; when you think as a man, you wish to attain something which ultimately reaches the same stage where you reach when you think as a woma
n and peak in love and intimacy – the genderlessness…”

  He had no words. He could not feel the need to be a speaker today; he just wished to be a listener. He waited for her to continue but she did not say anything. He intuitively felt there was something more that she has to say.

  “So, what you think is the one out of the two roads we should together tread to reach our common destination?”

  “Here I am not confused and I really think I am wise enough to say it.”

  “What...?”

  “You are my God. I am happy and satisfied that we will anyway reach together to the destination which is our common end. I will tread the path with you and will never question why you chose either of the two. I am a woman; my happiness is in your happiness. Choose the path which you think is ideal. I am a woman; my rationality and my irrationality is love and absolute intimacy. I am a woman; my path and destination is love and intimacy. But, whichever road I tread, you are with me so love is with me all the time. I am a woman in love and that makes me happy in doing whatever my love asks me to do.”

  “And what happens to man rationalities if I also become one with woman love?”

  “You decide what you think is best, I will become that.”

  “What if you were me?”

  “Should I say something; the way out; but, it will sound stupid!”

  “Give this precious thing to me...”

  “Yesterday, I was talking to God, not you, the other God, in my dreams. I asked him what I should do? I told him that there looked some conflict of sorts between you and me. I asked him was I being too foolish? You know what he said?”

  “What...?”

  “He said..., I think he was in a hurry, may be a bit annoyed too. He sort of chided me. He said, “Did I create you, the man and woman to compete with each other? What I had ordered to my chief engineer and chief architect was a complementary model of two humans with separate identifications but complementing identities. How come such lot of conflict is prevailing on earth? Oh…! I will have to call a high-level meeting to reassess the design. He then disappeared.”

  He could not resist a smile. He always believed she was innocence personified and intrinsically simple-hearted girl but he had never understood that basic intellectualism is in innocence and not in complicated idealisms.

  “So, the God’s prescription is…”, he asked her, hinting her to complete the sentence.

  “It looks like God said us to understand very clearly that man and woman have been made to complement each other perfectly. A woman is a woman and she has her gift of nature. Man is man and he has different set of gifts. And God designed us in a perfect way. He ensured that when it would come to the concerns of life and the world, the man would initiate proceedings as he would be gifted such a way; the woman would be with her in all odds. And, when it would be matters of love and intimacy, woman would lead and the man would follow her. But God had put a condition to this rule which basically is the root of all confusion of humans.”

  “And what is it?”

  “He had said that the complementarities would happen only when there would be complete and immaculate love and intimacy between the man and woman. If this will happen then the woman would only be too happy to follow her man and the man would be equally willing to surrender himself to his woman. When love and intimacy will happen, complementing would automatically fall in place and when complementarities will happen, gender conflict will be dissolved for good.”

  “Perfect...God cannot be wrong. It’s a deal then. Now decide what we have missing in our man-woman relationship?”

  “Yes…this is what I was dying to tell you. Did I tell you that I wanted to resign this month?”

  “Yes you did and you also said you had a second reason too for quitting the job.”

  “Yeah..yeah, I remember and I will tell you but I feel hungry.”

  “Nobody is eating before you tell me why.”

  “Okay; anyway, it is a one line thing. I thought you would guess it. Today everything I have to do so I will do this too. The reason I wanted to quit my job is because I wanted a three-year break from job. I have something important to do in these three years. If needed, I will pick up some meaningful activity after three years.”

  “And what you will do in coming three years?”

  “I am marrying”, she said sounding very casual. “And all these years I want to spend every moment in complete and unfettered love and intimacy. I won’t even allow my husband to do anything else but be with me all these years.”

  “Brilliant... congratulations! May I know who the lucky man is?”

  She freed herself from his arms and bit his lower lips hard. He screamed, pulled her back in his embrace. He kissed her and asked, “What next?”

  “I have nothing more to say”, she quipped.

  “Let us then sleep together”, he said, copying the tone in which she had said the lines when they had met in the evening.

  “But don’t you think we are getting a bit late for the dinner”, she pulled him.

  “Nobody is eating, we will sleep together. A wife must obey what the husband says”, he said with an affected pride.

  Before she could say anything, he lifted her in his lap and carried her to the bed. They slept again as enjoined twins. She felt the drops of his tears on her cheeks. She washed her guilt with it. The Sun did not come out in deference to this man-woman union. It finally rained...

  **