arpita: a dedication

and I wish I could touch Beauty. Dip my fingertips into her bottomless, fathomless pool---nay! immerse myself, my Self, into it.

for there is such a deep longing in my heart to see Beauty uncloaked, unadulterated, to drink it in, first sipping and savouring, then taking it in in deep draughts, in gulps and gasps as a man, dying of thirst does when he reaches an oasis.

For I live in a world of noise, not of sound, or music, of sights, not of visions, a cacophony, not a kaleidoscope.

and there's a longing in me, so deep and urgent that it feels like asadness, an ilness of the spirit. And I try to drown it out, with noise and sights and the cycle starts again.

There are thoughts in me, some still germinating, some struggling for release, but my thoughts have receeded so far, beyond the reach of language. And I can't coax them out, and I think I don't know why this has happened.

But I do know.

I can'tcoax them out because I have lost my Self from myself. somewhere in the midst of work, worry and talk, my core slipped from my grasp and receeded into my depths-
and left me hollow.
Rudderless
Anchorless

My core which I had been attempting to cultivate. My god-given gift which I could withdraw into for comfort whenever the world got too much. For solace. For reassurance. For direction.

And now I have to reach into my depths and dredge out my treasure.

For without it, I cannot look at Beauty without flinching. It reminds me of what I lost.