inane cycles Rahul Jose

INANE CYCLES

Rahul Jose IIT Madras

A knock. It passes. Another one. Don't bother. A murky world, of swirling figures. Ever changing, ever familiar, A release from the vapid linear. you could die here, but you wouldn't mind.

Then it hits, a smiting so profane. The mists clear, your sinews sear, With the weight of a darkness you know too well. For a moment so feral, But just as fragile. A flashing hand, a tinny stream of chatter, you find yourself condensing into matter. your sinews are weeping, but are crushed into silence for you are no longer you. you have sublimated, to make way for Yourself.

You have returned. You breathe of the cold air, Rank and sharp, prescient signs of blunt gyrations, soon to commence. You exhale, You release, You wash, You dip, You drench, You dry, You ingest, You belch and settle into threads that be, bearers of dead cells and rotting essences. You are one with the world, and the world is one with You, partaking of this soothing inanity we call sanity (really?), Motions and impressions of some order. Be on Your way.

Finally it is as should be. How else it could be, You wouldn't know anyway. And neither should You. For You aren't you.