There was a time when I was deeply influenced by the writing style of Tarun Tejpal from his book – The Alchemy of Desire, so much so that I started writing in that style too often. This is one of those write-ups, written in circa 2009.
When I was with you, I was lonely. I knew, this is it. The beginning. Another beginning. Of a phase. The last, probably. Sigh. It’s been a long time I was with you. Togetherness. It bound us. Musk. From all regions of your body. Glued me. Talking of sensory pleasures, there were many. Smell of your hair. Forehead. Temple. A different smell enamored me at every centimeter. I was enamored. It was like being zapped. Where my senses were ruled by you, my mind was numb. Perhaps it conked off in your proximity. My soul wasn’t mine anymore. You had me in your control. Every speck of you allured me. My identity was lost, somewhere between lust and love. Or conviction and pretension, maybe between passion and profoundness.
There was not an iota of me in me. Me was rogered. I was sandpapered into a million desires that screamed of just you. You were everywhere. Eyes saw you, palm felt you, eyes drank you, palm ravened you, eyes savoured you, palm clinched you. You always knew my cravings were not short-lived. And you tempted me all the more. You were the temple I went to, you were the goddess I prayed to, you were the goddess I prayed for, you were the goddess I devoted myself to.
The sunlight was never the same in your presence. Always mellow. Your presence was accompanied with an aura. Or was it suspended animation I was experiencing? Trance? State of mind was in conflict. My life was a question. But you were the answer. No reasoning. No justification. No conflicts. But you were the answer.
Haste was my life. To devour you. Emptiness was felt when I was not fed enough. A void certainly made me loon. I acted crazy. Not like a kid without mom. Not like a teenager without a scorn. But just like a loon. Psycho. Schizo. My mind floated with your thoughts. My dreams re-lived your thoughts. Happiness was not just happiness seeing you smile. Ecstasy perhaps would be an understatement. What was it? I was lost for words. Just like I lost the grip on my obsession.
The furore within wasn’t enough. Outbursts were like expressions. The fury was a revelation. I was into you. Completely. Madly. The sixth sense was so strong that I anticipated every move of yours with excitement. I knew it all. Your yawn, where it would lead to. From where does the curl of your lips start and when does it disappear. I was gauging you like a Shaman. I wasn’t sure though what was in your mind. When you kissed me. Was it passion? Was it surreptitious? All I was concerned was about the phenomena. That I tasted. That I experienced. That I gorged on.
But now, everything seems hazy. There is a haste, to hog down everything in a swig. I feel lonely with you. The apocalypse is waiting. It’s the dawn of another beginning. A beginning that is not transcending forth. The beyond is here. The beyond of beyond is here. All in front of me. Can’t hear you anymore. My ears aren’t tickled anymore. The ripples aren’t spectacular, the sunlight ain’t mellow, the musk not captivating.
All this while desire was there, like a chum. Earlier it was to consume you, and consume me, and consume passion, and consume the void, and consume the haste, and consume the gratification, and consume the helplessness, and consume the restlessness, and consume the fascination. Now it is there to reverse the process. To end the togetherness. To end the belief. To end the stupor. To herald the expiry date.
