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antics of politicians, bureaucrats and even their own bosses. He remained least interested as this he considered as nothing compared to the harems of the mighty of the past and even present. The harems are actually living proof of one of the greatest travesties of men’s world. The mighty man picked up horses from far off places; of great breeds and pedigrees. His royal stable symbolized his power but the horses actually fought magnificent battles and many died while saving lives of their masters. They also raised large harems and exceptionally beautiful women from all over the places would be forcibly housed in them. They also symbolized the power of the king but unlike horses, the women in the harems did not perform the roles they were naturally endowed with. The kings would posses and relish the volume and mass of intimacy but not the energy and fragrance of intimacy. The mighty consumed excess of the body of intimacy but not a bit of its soul. And that’s why; he was never satisfied with the size of his harem. He would add more women and lose more pride. The men would go to lots of women to find something that a woman is enough to give but would never get that one woman. The harem is the mortuary of intimacies but the mighty would not admit it. He knew it quite well that most men have the ultimate dream to be like a king and possess such a harem. The common man keeps his harem in his heart; the successful and mighty get the chance to descend it from their hearts to their chosen bed. Only a few mighty men fail the chance.


He remained on the bed and his mind was racing up with thoughts. He understood it well that he was not in tandem with the beauty of the time in present but was messed up with a time that was yet to come. He even tried to stop being apprehensive and drift along the present which was so blissful but his mind would not partner with him. But he did not know; he was making a cardinal mistake. He was seeing reality from his own viewpoint and taking that of her as granted. She had equal stakes in his reality and what she had in her mind, what she had kept in abeyance to shock him, he could not even have an inkling of. She was in the kitchen readying dinner before she said ‘love would start speaking’. He waited on the bed. Time waited too; so did his destiny.


All beautiful and important attainments of life happen in a semi-conscious state of mind. The mind cannot recall them in vivid details. There would be just a ghost feeling...one would remember he or she was there when that happened to him or her but what exactly happened, the mind does not register it. The ultimate in love and intimacy happens in semi-conscious state of mind. God happens in semi-conscious state. Life happens and death happens in the same state of mind. Bodies are needed for the initiation but the attainment comes with bodies becoming redundant. Hands are needed for prayers to start but when godliness happens, prayer withers away. Bodies set up sex but orgasm ensures; the mass of flesh melts into energy.


He tried in vain to relive the moments that he had with her an hour back but all he could recollect was a feeling that he was there. He still lived the profoundness of the bliss of togetherness but could not recall in vivid details what had happened. She had fixed the dinner and gone to the bathroom; that he had seen. She had called him from there wanting some help. The door of bathroom was ajar but still he had asked her if he could come in. She had asked him in. The light was not on but it was not completely dark. Some feeble radiance from outside light made him see things. She was sitting beneath the shower, on the floor. After few seconds, when his eyes got adjusted to the dim light, he could see more than the outlines of her body. He could see clearly…. he shedding lots of the weight of unnecessary carriages of his personality; his male ego, his self doubts...and his natural awkwardness with his own body. He could see entirely new dimensions….


He had realized quite early in his life that the one single fact of life which presents itself to all humans as greatest enemy and which every human has to befriend is not greed, not ego, not pride but fear. He had read the religious scriptures and had realized that all rational men and men of genius sought only one thing from God. They called the almighty – bhav bhay niwarak – solution provider to the fears of the world and prayed him to make humans understand fear and make fear his best friend. He accepted this as a certain sign of inferior intelligence of men as compared to the women. Females never seek fearlessness from God. They have the superior intelligence to understand the simple fact that God is all powerful and when something is sought from a powerful person, one should seek not the negation of something but the affirmation. That’s why; females seek love from God – His love and love for all in this universe. The women have the innate acumen to realize that when love prevails, fear loses its existence. Women always seek root goodness whereas men would look for the fruits of goodness. That’s why most men end up having a barren tree of life.


…a woman’s beingness is bhav bhay niwarak… truly, God’s stamp on earth.

He remembered, once, when he was only a twelve-year old, he had fallen from a tree and despite his best efforts could not breathe. He had seen his mother rushing towards him from a distance but he had virtually accepted that before she would come, he would die of breathlessness. His limbs had already got numbed and he could not even let out a cry. His mother had hugged him tight to her bosoms and though he still could not breathe, he had lost his fatal fear. He remembered till date (and smiled now for his foolishness), how he was at peace being in his mother’s lap and had prominently felt an icy sense of contentment that when he would die, his soul would enter the soul of his mother as she had her heart kissing his heart. As his sense of shock and fear had got dissipated, his breath had been restored. Even today, his fatal fears had only one solution; not God but his mother’s bosoms which had clinched his first fear when he had come out of the secure walls of her womb.


…. A woman’s beingness is man’s ultimate prayers come true….

The tiny vapors of shower had been reaching his face. He had stood in a stupor; quietly experiencing his inside feelings. As a director of a movie makes all the right moves to ensure that all the scenes shot of a particular script in hand descends down on the celluloid in a way he or she had visualized them in his or her mind; she called him to make movements and he, as a dedicated actor, who has full confidence in his director, performed the scenes as per her command. She had asked him to pull off his clothes and come in. She made him sit close to her under the shower, their faces facing each other. She insisted he kept looking at her face and her eyes. Instinctively, he had lowered his eyes. His intimacies with her had been with touches...his eyes would automatically close when she would get bodily intimate with her. What eyes see, mind registers and responds best but differently. Visual intimacies are excruciating...difficult to receive. You touch a fire and its heat makes your mind respond instantly. And, when you see a fire burning, the myriad colors that it exudes make mind respond differently. Mind warns to withdraw but simultaneously wishes to keep looking at it. You love watching it…and strangely, even desire to capture it in your fists... the golden hue, the red core, the bluish outlines, the grayish smoke head...each triggers off different feelings in the heart.

Visual intimacies are agonizing like a fire...he withdrew first. She upped his face with her soft palm. She whispered on his lips to see her well...understand her through his eyes…explore her with the help of his eyes...she kissed his eyes and asked him, “… let your eyes see me in fullness, nakedness and completeness...it is important...you must do it… let me be very sure that you do it... I want to ensure that even if I do not know myself well, you must...you know what is best for me; you should also know me better than me...” .


The art is in symmetry and it is awesomely beautiful. Never in his life had he seen the form, the symmetry, the chiseled undulations, the righteousness and the profundity of an art. All of a sudden, he felt an agonizing sense of guilt. He felt dwarfed by the magnanimity of the perfection of the art. ‘How can men be so blind...’, he said to himself. ‘How can they be so brute...how can a man muster up the courage to defile the art...how dare they...oh my God!’ He felt ashamed; feeling guilty that he unfortunately was a part of the discreditable legacy of the male world... he wanted to move out. But he did not write the script. The director knew what was best and what was next.... She had closed the shower and handed him the soap. He could see; she had closed her eyes. This gave him the courage….


The music had begun...the ultimate melody had started filling up the universe...each element, every bit of body and soul had started absorbing the composition. The cells had passed on the message to the tissues and the dance had started to happen...! The notes were struck perfect...both the bodies had started humming sounds originating from the bellybottom...the resonance of the molten lava that jostles to burst out of the surface of earth from beneath the bellybottom of the earth...the naad swar (primeval sound) of creation...the whining of God’s avowal of shrishti (creation)...the bodies melt, existentialism liquefies; the expression takes the form of dance...the form of godliness...a definite invitation for the universe to bow in total deference to the energy of creation...silence..silence...!


The music had filled up all spaces...a rarity. He understood; music is everywhere in the universe but it was very rare for humans to find it in their lives. A very rare discipline of harmony and surrender of senses is required for the realization of ultimate music of life. He had heard it from someone. Once there was a world renowned singer who was considered the ultimate master of music. When he was dying, a disciple sat at his feet and asked, ‘master...you know music better than anyone living or dead in this universe. Please tell us what the greatest music is’. The master closed his eyes and said, ‘I did not know it for long but now, when I am dying, I can say with conviction that greatest music on earth is compassion in the heart’. He understood; he felt compassion...he lived the music...he rendered the composition of compassion...! He understood; music needed great discipline...the discipline of saat sur (seven notes) ...the regulations of taal (beats) ...the obligations of laykaari (melody) ... then only came the accomplishments of a musician to qualify for his own musical adaaygi (rendition). And that is not the desired end of music. A great musician needs thousands of hours of riyaaz (practice) to reach a stage in music which the connoisseurs say, ‘Aaj ustaad ne kah di hai (the maestro has said it)…’ The first four stages are learning the

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