Dervish

Resonating paradoxes

It is not very anomalous to notice that the utter playfulness of human heart never ceases to take notice of the slightest of the raffling in the feathers irrespective of their causality. On a very superficial plane, this influx of yet another barrage of circumstantial and paranoid insecurity is leaving all that I own into the same disarray, which had routed the very sense of existence out of me a few years ago.

Not only it is ironical to understand but also getting to the bottom of its corrosive depths is equally daunting. I don’t remember an instance where getting a grip of either of these two has resulted into anything but self-destruction. Surprisingly, I find myself rather ambivalent about tossing it all out of my window and take a blind plunge into the familiar muddle of insanely tempting muck to gratify a rabid beast roaring to cut all the hell loose.

Admittedly, the entire dexterous proclivity that is being garnered in the past couple of years, seem to enervate into a fake imposition of vanity, self-contentment and mundane-obviation. A gauntlet is thrown at my feet to sweep them off the ground, and the sheer might of deja vu is ready to make that spiteful transgression into a sadistic realm with carnal paraphernalia. Nevertheless, there is something in this whole shebang that is compelling enough to be seen from a different perspective, and that facet is blessed with a countenance with the brightness of all the stars and eyes defying the depths of all the known and unknown universes.    

A forlorn yet everlasting longing for the trance from the union of beloved’s long lashes and fluttering eyes, is all that galvanizes the downtrodden life of a lover. The fate of the drunken gypsy is chained along the path to the tavern by those mighty locks, and to the worst there is no life away from the tavern. This conundrum of love demands nothing less than lifetimes whirled in the divine intoxication and enamored with the fragrance of the magi.

Oh! Arrogance of dilapidated human mediocrity, you know no boundary, and amidst your darkness I seek the light of that beacon to retain this tender heart rooted in the garden of faith and submission for eternity.

“The one who taught Hafiz, how his ghazals enhance,
Is none but my silent friend, with a sweet parlance.”

8.12.06 05:21

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