He was reading to her out loud. Something about ‘love’, ‘beauty’. Something that meant that “love” and “beauty” are but one.
They set on a couch by a half open window, overlooking freshly washed verdant valley. It was raining outside. Rain splattered the window pane like nature’s orchestra reduced to accompaniment playing only one basic sound, in the most ancient tempo, to augment in this instant the playing again of the first melody ever carried by a human voice, when it resonated the very first time with the sound of words that meant “love” and “beauty”. A repeat of the magical moment when music was born, to human ears. Or so it seemed to her, for that moment is once repeated in every human’s life, the moment when she learnt the difference between rhythmic sound and music.
Music is a sound that doesn’t just die down in the brain, but reaches the human soul and resonates there long after the sound outside has died down, unlocking the higher meaning of consciousness, and also revealing music’s own independence from the fetters of rhythm.
The rain drops falling on the sill of the open part of the window were atomised in to soft spray and rode the air in the room making it cool, and soothing. In that instant she lost all sense of her body; body reduced (or elevated!) to symphony of pleasurable sensations. A moment when physical existence surrenders its limits to divine, a moment when love takes over completely and turns whole body into a single nerve responsive to only joy. And in that one instant, she was totally unaware of herself. She was in an amorphous world, where all things had lost their distinction and merged in to a continuum with cause and effect not being separate anymore. World made of cool gentle mist which allowed only her own idea of beauty to be visible, as if love had made a choice and everything else simply disappeared as irrelevant in the mist.
Then, 'herself’ took over her again. She again became aware of herself sitting close to him. So close that she could feel the sweetness of his body heat in the mild chill of the room. She could hear the sound of his heart beat, though in all likelihood it was her own heart beating down her ribs intent on bursting out of her body in shear elation.
He kept reading to her out loud. But, she did not hear anything anymore; lost in the safe world of his tender proximity. She only could see his lips moving which felt like they were quivering. She looked at him intently, with all her senses totally mobilised to observe him- at the peak of sensuality. Then, she suddenly realised that the sweet heat that made her shimmer was not his, but her own, emitting from her eyes, from her cheeks, ear lobs, palms, and thighs. She was burning, approaching melting point. A complete liquidation of her being was in sight. She welcomed it with open arms. And, last thought in her head, that she would remember afterwards, was this intense desire to kiss him; which she did. And, set both of them ablaze.
-Pulastya
They set on a couch by a half open window, overlooking freshly washed verdant valley. It was raining outside. Rain splattered the window pane like nature’s orchestra reduced to accompaniment playing only one basic sound, in the most ancient tempo, to augment in this instant the playing again of the first melody ever carried by a human voice, when it resonated the very first time with the sound of words that meant “love” and “beauty”. A repeat of the magical moment when music was born, to human ears. Or so it seemed to her, for that moment is once repeated in every human’s life, the moment when she learnt the difference between rhythmic sound and music.
Music is a sound that doesn’t just die down in the brain, but reaches the human soul and resonates there long after the sound outside has died down, unlocking the higher meaning of consciousness, and also revealing music’s own independence from the fetters of rhythm.
The rain drops falling on the sill of the open part of the window were atomised in to soft spray and rode the air in the room making it cool, and soothing. In that instant she lost all sense of her body; body reduced (or elevated!) to symphony of pleasurable sensations. A moment when physical existence surrenders its limits to divine, a moment when love takes over completely and turns whole body into a single nerve responsive to only joy. And in that one instant, she was totally unaware of herself. She was in an amorphous world, where all things had lost their distinction and merged in to a continuum with cause and effect not being separate anymore. World made of cool gentle mist which allowed only her own idea of beauty to be visible, as if love had made a choice and everything else simply disappeared as irrelevant in the mist.
Then, 'herself’ took over her again. She again became aware of herself sitting close to him. So close that she could feel the sweetness of his body heat in the mild chill of the room. She could hear the sound of his heart beat, though in all likelihood it was her own heart beating down her ribs intent on bursting out of her body in shear elation.
He kept reading to her out loud. But, she did not hear anything anymore; lost in the safe world of his tender proximity. She only could see his lips moving which felt like they were quivering. She looked at him intently, with all her senses totally mobilised to observe him- at the peak of sensuality. Then, she suddenly realised that the sweet heat that made her shimmer was not his, but her own, emitting from her eyes, from her cheeks, ear lobs, palms, and thighs. She was burning, approaching melting point. A complete liquidation of her being was in sight. She welcomed it with open arms. And, last thought in her head, that she would remember afterwards, was this intense desire to kiss him; which she did. And, set both of them ablaze.
-Pulastya
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