photo courtesy www.hitchams.suffolk.sch.uk/india_art/starter/nautch_girl...
Once upon a time, in a remote sleepy hamlet of a town,in India, cultured, dance , music no religious hatredness, on a kotha of a nautch girl, a nautch girl is a professional danceuse..where Time to stopped to see this woman that moved her world on her two feet, gyrating away the sadness and sorrows of her soul.. to lyricless music of pain, and disenchantment.
One day the little boy who used to press the nautch girls tired feet massage them in a little basin of rose water.. the softness of the faded petals adding to the touch of the little boys tender hand…was asked by the mistress to go and get some sour mango pieces that the mango man was selling sounding off in his tenored voice….he went hurriedly and bought the mango pieces in a paper cone white and moist with ink.. like tears fallen on a dry palm..
The nautch girl , threw the mango pieces started unfolding the cone and read the agony of a poet began to shed tears..yes it was lyrical..a love poem of a poet in penury, a poet on hard times who might have sold his notebooks to keep the fires burning of his agonising life.
And the next time she danced on these lyrics translated into music.. all the pain was gone.. a flurry of a new emotion of love, yes our nautch girl was in love with the nameless, faceless poet..... such is love it catches you unawares..in its sheer simplicity.
She was in love and sent her emissaries to track down her poet lover, she succeeded but he would not meet her, on oath of death had told the person who had discovered him.. that he would send her new poems day after day….but he would not be seen by human eyes at all..
I am not a writer or a story teller .. so I will leave this story incomplete..
I will reveal the mystery of the poet,.
He had an incurable disease lived among the lepers in a lepers colony..his eyes were hollows , his fingers were stubs, a kind person down the road wrote his words that fell like tears from craters destroyed by the ravages of time...
He had seen good times, but than envious fate struck, all his loved ones , friends hanger ons deserted him like a sinking ship..
He had come and settled here when the disease errupted all over his body his mind his consciousness.
Its human nature to falling love , with a shadow , add our own flesh to it, animate it with humanly emotions , make it larger than life ,than when we see the actual reality , feel hurt, self inflict , curse fate for having let us down..cybernet love is almost like this, we fall in love with a face that is not even her actual face, her words that are distorted to lure, to honeytrap, to hurt , to squeeze out his testicular identity , yes beware of falling in love with goddesses on the net, they too are carved out of clay only the tiara on their head like Medusa is real swarming like a serpents nest to ..annihilate Man..simple , kind , naive , on the face loving Man..
Another one bites the dust.
I dedicate it to one woman.. in a world that keeps pushing the other one women ..in my life ... I am a dichotamous one woman man.
Afshaan... my wife my lifelog goddess..
the other the blog goddess.....
I am street photographer a beggar poet .. I shoot misery cavorting with hope I shoot original content. I am Shia Sufi Hindu all in One
Monday, July 2, 2007
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