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silhouette



The lane beside my home is perhaps the single most figment of my memory that never fades; the dark lane, passage so thin that only one person could go at a time, tall walls on either side, mud dropping from the exposed bricks, stench of closeness surrounding me, the nagging discomfort that there is someone behind me, that someone from above is watching me. I would lean on one of the sides, look either ways, survey the surroundings and after confirming that there is nobody around, I would just stand there, blankly stare into the darkness. That was my time; nobody could take it away from me.

My obsession with darkness is so becoming; that as if by some force of impulse that I find myself dragged into it. I barely recognize the different traits and vicissitudes that my obsession has favorably given birth to. I close my eyes in an attempt to recoup the losses, for the compunction that I could have just stayed there in the dark never to return to the world of caprice and malice-the world of light. For I deplore the necessity of being exposed, the ritual is arduous and painful. I bemoan that the light hurts me, that the amorphous silhouette that I am become a solid object. And, the object drinks life out of surroundings, the living object exists, for the exposure has left it alive.

Now, the poor thing is exposed, naked but alive he draws and redraws with pencil his solid frontiers, his image and his person. Something curious happened suddenly, for I realized that I might as well leave, that I might as well go back to where it all began. This light is diabolical, it is painful to exist, to know that I exist is the worst thing.

So, I embrace darkness again. Its is wholesome, it is complete, and I am amorphous again, the solid is no more there, the thick silhouettes swoop down, droop indefinitely and I, once again rid of my body dance in glory. I entertain myself; I am part of the medium that would not have been so infinitely ubiquitous as it is right now. Now, I am the medium myself, now I am lost, now I am here, now I am there.

Comments

Anonymous said…
The world of light is NOT malice or caprice.. !!!
August 31, 2009 at 11:40 AM
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