little-self

In the process, she was drained of energies and her voice became husky. She began to sob uncontrollably. Shantnu got up from his chair and went to her. He lifted her limp body and clasped her to his bosom. Her sobbing subsided with the tender touch of his big hands and her body began to regain it composure in the vast exposure of his warmth. She lifted up her head, which was peacefully crouching on his shoulder, and brought it to the level of his mouth. She advanced her wavering lips, near his closed mouth, but suddenly shook her head and instantly planted a big kiss on his forehead.
Shantnu Angelee, you have achieved a level in a few minutes which Umeshwari could attain in years. Now rush in, take care of Gopi. He needs you. Gopi needs a lot of love and you are amply capable of it.
She come out from his clasp and rushed to her hut, waving and flaying her arms in the air. Joyfully she gushed into her doors, saying farewell to the attained, by the backward movements of her left hand, and ready to amend the present, which was, temporarily, impaired.
Going to Gopi’s bed, she administered him a fraction of the love, she had just received. The poor man needs only this much and he revived happily in the warmth, that she had carried from the inexhaustible source of a lost seeker. While making loving her man, she was weeping for the man, who gave others whatever he had, made others happy and helped in mending their disjointed bodies and minds. But what he got in return? Faithless creatures, not worthy of his pious touch. She was sobbing shamelessly, for the man, who loved all, cared for all, cleansed their blemishes and bore them happily. She was crying for a man, who had lost his past, was utterly lonely, but still was enlightening others with his thinking mind, who excepting his thoughts had no worldly relations?
Gopi tried to console her. He begged of her forgiveness. But the poor fellow did not know, Angelee was not shedding her precious tears for a faithless man, but was trying to reach the fathoms of a heart, whose depths she wanted to enter into and make for herself a niche there. For that was the place, where only love abounds. She knew agonizing pains of a thinker, his loneliness, his zest for life, his joys, his sorrows, his travails coming into the path of his search, were heart rendering. Her body, mind, soul, ached for him and she cried and cried.
Poor fellow did not know, this was not the night of love making, but of soul searching. Aching of body, pains of mind and agony of the intellect chisels a man in the grind mill of wisdom, whereas tears of a pious heart, sobbing of pure mind, melts even the cold hearts.
Washing the blemishes of her body, she carried within her self a spotless heart and a calm mind. She came out of her hut. She was greatly hurt when she saw Shantnu still sitting in his chair, even though nightly stars were twinkling in the sky above. She stood behind him. He seemed oblivious of her presence. Out of compulsive urge, she touched his eyes with her both hands, they were moist. Suddenly, she could not control herself and fell in his lap. He was startled but remained composed. She brought her face, near his ear and whispered sobbingly.
Angelee Tell me frankly, are these precious germs for Umeshwari, for me or for us both. But I am happy; at least you are mortal like us!
Shantnu Angelee, I am an ordinary man, with ordinary man’s worries, sorrows and happiness. There is absolutely nothing extraordinary about me. The only thing that keeps me away from others is my utterly dull mind and its ignorance.
While you were loving your man, your agony for me touched my dry heart and produced in it, jewels of love. All of a sudden, I realized how lucky and fortunate I am, that there was a woman, a beautiful at that, who loved me, and could cry for me! And she had nothing to take from me. I was really touched.
Angelee Now tell me when you feel an impasse in the extension of your thought-process or when you are checkmated and there is a stony wall of static state when all that you had achieved appears illusory at the chasm of nihilism, how do you get your inspiration? At that critical juncture who supports you and tends you moral support? Because I know the agonies of a thinker; he is loner. He does not associate with the material world, he has uprooted the images and voices from his mind, and he shuns the shallow company of the so-called intellectuals, masters and saints. He is completely bereft of the external as well as of the internal worlds. Because all are of no avail to him. Nothing that is illusory or temporary attracts his attention. So where from you get your feed of encouragement for thoughts and strength of purpose. I actually pine for you. The moment I saw you, exactly eight days before, I lost my bearings in this world. Some incident, accident or episode might have brought a memory lapse in you, but in may case, it was you alone who has transformed me completely. I am not the Angelee of Gopi anymore but the shadow of your real self.
Tbc…