FATHER, FEMALE AND BROKEN FRAGMENTS
With the newly moulted senses I find words fluttering all around me like butterflies of variegated colours. Words not only like butterflies but also like birds. And I went out of my chrysalis on the airy journey with these butterflies and these birds. Or I myself exploded into thousands of little fragments that swarmed in air like butterflies or flew into the sky like birds. And one such butterfly fragments joins with one such butterfly word. One bird fragment of myself joins with a bird of a word and flies away to distant coasts and reaching them returns home again to this familiar room hung with velvet arras, paved with marble and furnished with a chandelier. In the light of the chandelier, which is lim red I can’t see my father but I surmise his presence, seated or standing near me like a magician. And I am sure it is his magic that has animated the thousand fragments into which I am broken up. Broken up into thousand species of butterflies and birds. Yes, he is a magician.
On a sudden ,this state of glassy coloured transparency gets shattered by a piercing shriek and I hear with a shock some crockery breaking into shards or some brass utensil crashing on some floor outside the room. I am familiar with these sounds. I found in the dimness a figure crouching down may be to collect these shards from the floor. The soft arch of its back tells me that it is a female form. And I remain dumb. For I am afraid to utter a sound for somebody would come and drag me away from the magic corner and impound me in a darkness rendered deeper with the
dim kerosene lantern marked ‘Feurhand’. Slightly startled I seem to hear a switch being clicked off deep down within me. The room I use to live in I find there, deep down within me, encased by me with the zerowatt lamp above the doorframe. Ha, it goes off…
HUNDREDS OF PAGES WITHOUT PUNCTUATION
I see that the sea itself is a body of the bodies in which I wanted to immerse but had failed so far for I thought the sea of body to be a shallow or a knuckle deep pool of water or a reservoir of rippling desires or Eros hardly phalange deep but now I see that all the
bodies I ever wanted to immerse into have merged into one and this one body becomes awfully deep infinitely fathomless and I see this body heaving forward to me threatening the city with its streets and stalls and banks but even at this I feel no fear for this is my sea where I would be reborn the sea in fact of my rebirth from moment to moment from day to day from night to night and once he reaches the beach of this sea the donkey refuses to carry me anymore and wondering I see or feel the donkey lies down with its legs drawn in I see the sea of all bodies including the body I might have been rushing towards me with phosphorescent waves and I rise suddenly on my own legs fully illumined and turn to see what has happened to the beast who carried me thus far when I find that his body has grown two vast wings and seeing this the hero of my story goes into the sea of the body and in dying is reborn and the moment he is reborn he turns his face towards me opens his eyes wide open with all the eyes of his body with perfectly naked sight for he has no trace of ego in him and this total look of his passes on to me a message understood by my body but which I am incapable of telling clear to others and all that I can hope to do is to communicate that the hero of my story who granted me a glimpse of him riding a donkey nor could I understand why he made me a median to write this story …
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Norwegian publication of
TIME IN ASHES