Gaily I lived as ease and nature taught,
And spent my little life without a thought,
And am amazed that Death, that tyrant grim,
Should think of me, who never thought of him.
~René Francois Regnier
Someone slit my throat last night. I felt blood ..warm sticky ..slowly collecting at the nape of my neck and getting absorbed in the soft pillow. RED.
RED ….The color of our root chakra located at the base of the spine and allows us to be grounded and connect to the universal energies.. RED ….energizing, burning. RED color of poison, strength and aggression …RED…..Warm scented metallic taste of blood.
RED…. the highest arc of the rainbow, rebellious tainted love, the scarlet letter. Blazing red sunsets, sun stabbed skies.
Day before yesterday I mumbled something during my Reiki session at night. I did not know about it till my Reiki master told me the next day. Since some time night have been blotting paper for many sorrows and a bed for illicit desires, hopes, dreams and dark longings .
I am amused how death like a desirous lover shadows me each night relentlessly. Sometime lurking among the deep dark crevices of my mind at others trailing me from a safe distance. I feel it presence. Gentle , persevering she stays close. She ? Yes I know night with all its beauty and glorious charm can only be feminine.
It was an ordinary room with folding iron grill doors on both ends . Windowless. Sparsely furnished. A comfortable bed with soft white quilt duvet and a large frilled pillow. Spotless White.
I am draped in a sari. Thin floral Georgette in pastels. It has taken my shape.
I remember the bangles, glass bangles. I get the whiff of roses but there aren’t any flowers. No perfume.
The caretaker, a middle-aged woman urges me to go with the rest of the family. I ignore and point towards the three fox-like dogs at the door and tell her to close the grill doors. They have pleading eyes. She lets them enter.
The animals look at me with intense eyes , pause for a moment and go out through the other door. The gaze stays.
I hear voices of other family members in the next room. laughing, arguing , debating and packing. They are ready to leave. Voices from a distance sound strangely mysterious. I try to catch the words as they drift through the thin walls and dark corridor. My caretaker too is set to leave. She continuously reports how others are irked and exasperated by my decision to stay and wait. Wait for someone to fulfill a promise.
Slowly the voices die. Hush.
I lie awake and ask, ‘Where have I gone wrong?’ A voice says to me, ‘ This is going to take more than one night. More than one life ‘
I close my eyes. Someone pours red-hot lava inside my head. I shudder and lie suspended between dark and light. An ache begins to numb my throbbing body. I move my hand to my neck. It’s been slit. A neat cut. Sharp and precise.
I moved my hand slowly and touched my neck. Eyes still closed. I felt blood. warm and sticky.
Slowly I opened my eyes. Death stood there wearing midnight, her eyes cold as steel and yet I was alive.
I was amused. I still am. This tryst with death was unexpected. Unexplained. Liberating and calming instead of scary and suffocating. I watched the soft gray sky from the mesh doors. Stillness of soul helps one to have those rare flings with reality.
Red is also color of LOVE. Sensual , stimulating color of passion and seduction.
My heart explodes.
Love doesn’t come easy to me, Death does.
I know not what causes this fervent rush inside me…. Is it my heart surfing the Californian sunshine or is it my body bathed in sweetness that is Indian summer ?
The rain may have the answer or the wind.. or maybe
la petite mort