Wednesday, November 12, 2014

The Union....

 (I had found these characters long back...and the story was in suspended animation for a while. Now they have concluded their story, sort of, in this way. Someday I want to fill up what happened in between then and now.)

‘What are you---a spiritual seeker or a warrior?’ she murmured to herself as her slender fingers caressed the deep cut on his right shoulder. He moved gently in his sleep, his rugged body glistening in the moon-light----the ruggedness which he seemed to have acquired from the Tibetan highlands to which he had departed 7 years ago. Yet, there was a softness about him. In the way he had handled her. In the way he had gently brushed away her falling locks. In his very tender kisses!

Yet, he seemed to combine this gentleness with a careless ruthlessness of a warrior. The entire ashram of the late Maharshi Kanva had erupted in an unspoken joyful celebration when Vishwa arrived, on the morning of Vyaasa Purnima. The day dedicated to the worship of the Guru, the supreme Lord. The day the beloved Kanva had departed, years ago, plunging the ashram into a deep turmoil. The day after which Vishwa had departed with the Tibetan monks, on a seven year sabbatical, seeking supreme spiritual wisdom. Now on his arrival, the inhabitants of the ashram surrounded and embraced him, welcoming home a long lost son. As if welcoming the warmth of the Sun on ratha-saptami after an unusually long winter.

 And Sakhi....she watched with astonishment, since his arrival, a strange warmth spread through her being, gradually intensifying with every passing hour. Her thoughts were incoherent yet a silent melody strung them together. The usual talkative bundle of joy that she was, she was surprised at her own silent movements.

He had come on the fourth dawn. The three nights leading up to his arrival, Sakhi had seen him in her dreams. Her beloved Vishwa with long flowing hair, riding a white horse galloping ferociously down the hill. Yet with a tender calm appearance. A golden ear-ring glistening in his left ear. Soft eyes. She would wake up with a start everytime.

Now on arrival, their eyes met. And their glances spoke a hundred thousand conversations. As if no other words were needed to bridge their bonding. Her eyes followed him throughout the day as he moved around interacting with the inhabitants of the ashram. She saw him with the learned sages and Rishis, engaged in deep spiritual discussions. And listening patiently as the exasperated old Gowthami narrate her travails in maintaining an ever growing ashram, giving her gentle suggestions. His ease and friendliness with the young monks and children growing in the ashram’s care. And the thundering determination and ferocity with which he warned off the wicked tribesmen who had arrived at the gates, seeking their share in the ashram’s produce. ‘Are you the same bumbling, unsure Vishwa that I knew,’ she wondered. ‘How much have you changed? Are you still the same boy I knew from my young days, perhaps from eons ago? Do you still feel....’

And the night had answered her. By the moonlit night, beside the gurgling Bhagirathi river, under the Parijatha tree which showered scented flowers every minute, they found each other. Entwining bodies, like two rivers uniting and becoming one, they merged.

She moaned softly when his lips brushed against hers.

 He watched with fascination at the way her body responded to his touch. She was lying on the grass bed, eyes closed, lips parted slightly, writhing in soft pleasure. A delicate cloth barely covering her! When a soft breeze caressed her she moaned again.

 'Sakhi....O my Sakhi,' he whispered gently.

 The garden was cloaked in the misty embrace of the full moon. A soothing fragrance of jasmine flowers wafted through the cool night air. The parijaata tree which shaded the lovers was in full bloom...sprinkling its flowers with every touch of the breeze ...unabashed shedding of modesty. A flower slipped and dropped gently on her naked bosom and slid on his fingers. But...Sakhi was oblivious to everything. She was lost in her world...a world deep inside the soft secure warm embrace of Vishwa.

 'Sakhi...', he whispered again, as his hands caressed her locks. The gentle yet fiercely independent Sakhi he had left behind in Kanva’s ashram. The confident, worldly-wise girl who stood as a pillar to a spiritual legacy which could’ve been blown away without its custodians. Responsible and mature, yet vulnerable—bursting forth and blossoming with youthful vigour in his embrace. An Ocean awaiting a wandering river without knowing if the river would return. Not aware that the river thirsted for her as much as she yearned for it.

Her eyelids stirred. Soft Aquarian eyes. Vast and the holy Mansarovar lake.

 'Are you for real?', she whispered. Her body ached with the intimate and intense pleasure it had just received in the passionate love with him. Every cell moaned in a sweet tiredness....craving for more, yet desiring to drop into a long relaxing sleep. Their eyes locked into one another and settled into deep conversations of stillness.

 She raised her hand slowly and caressed his cheeks, as if to reassure herself that she wasn't dreaming, that her beloved Vishwa had arrived back from across the Himalayas. 'Why did you come back?'  The very memory of their separation was enough to fill up her eyes. He bent forwards, kissed her eyelids--his lips wiped off her welling tears. 'I came for you, Sakhi.'

 And she raised herself to meet his lips...and their lips sealed and fused into one another. She clasped his head with her hands and amidst frantic gasps, allowed his tongue to push through her lips and explore her mouth, while his hands released and set free her clothes before going wild. Their bodies began to merge into one another, their breaths ebbed and flowed in rhythm, their heart-beats pulsated against one another in tandem. Hard rugged passion breaking through yielding softness--igniting hidden bliss vortexes, a scorching explosion coursed through their entwined heaving bodies, uniting them into one inseparable being. The fiercely passionate union reverberated across time and space and beyond, across multi-dimensional worlds and universes, across infinite life-times of a Soul---- a Soul which before time had split up into two Souls and, unable to bear the separation, would intensely seek a union again and again, merging and coalescing in multiple passionate ways. Tremendous energies bursting into one another, un-manifesting back into the Void.

 The river Bhagirathi which was witnessing their union, now splashed joyfully down the rocks below Kanva's ashram...hurrying towards the ocean...wondering, 'When I merge with my beloved, will my union be as magnificent? And will I too merge into the waiting arms of my beloved, never to be separated, like these two lovers?"


  1. a holographic brain , stories produce better change than dry abstractions. Stories produce beliefs and gets hardwired into brain networks-- they tap into ways of intuitively understanding the subtle currents that flow through our lives...lovely flow...:-)

    1. yes murthy, stories shape our lives and change our worldview. Lovely observation

  2. Love ~ 0 :: mukesh.

  3. I was cursing myself today That why the hell i missed the earlier post . It was so pleasurable reading it in continuity :)

    1. sir...I'll write the whole book soon, and you'll be one of the first ones to read it

  4. Hey let me read the earlier post first!! what is the title of that episode?

    1. the first episode is linked in the first is 'Sakhi and Vishwa' (

    2. Beautiful, story, narration, build-up & characterization is too good!!!! When you narrate 'Vishwa' in 'Sakhi's dream OMG that was goose bumps reading for me...