The slanting rays of the sun that was about to set, was
sliced into fragments by the horizontal bars of the windows and they rested
cozily on the floor. Lying down, facing the window, he was, for a long time,
vaguely gazing at the crystal clear dust cloud, dancing in the path of the
golden rays. As much seductive as it can get, only it didn't evoke a poet in
him, but a profound solitude. He wasn't baffled by smothering thoughts, but instead,
was too numb to be prone to thinking. Awareness hit him only in bits &
pieces, every now & then, making it difficult for him to provoke his mind
into introspection. A grotesque sadness pierced his heart in an ultra-slow pace,
puncturing it with supreme clarity. The moist-soaked heart excruciatingly oozed
out a sour fluid and it hit his mind like a pin-prick. Awoke from his numbness,
he realized, he was completely drowned into a poignant grief. It was a
desperate crave for a woman’s touch which let him into that gloomy solitude, he
learned. Encountering loneliness with an utter despair, his mind started
hallucinating itself, deliberately, with a woman fondling him already.
Furthermore, in the realm of his fantasy, he teleported himself into the
imaginary woman’s soul and started feeling every whit of sensuality in touching
his very own body, in the perspective of that woman. He slowly ran his fingers through
his body, exploring it like a stranger, whilst his soul was half-torn and
placed both in his real & imaginary domain. In an impulse, his
consciousness rose him up, and his feet trotted towards the mirror, in the
pursuit of supplying his libido, with better visuals. His creative mind was
eased by being bestowed upon the mirror-image, allowing his imaginary woman to
dwell comfortably in his real self, without the effort of a new creation and
the replica served as a replacement for his real body. This glued his bisected
soul, placing it wholly in the imaginary woman’s self, which in turn was
dwelling in his real self. What he failed to realize was that the imaginary
self totally overlapped the real one and hid it. This deluded his brain that
the replica in the mirror was a stranger. Gone oblivious to the nature of his
sexuality, the soul in his imaginary self was lured heavily by the stranger
resting in the mirror. His eyes crawled slowly on every single part of his body
in the replica and ogled it with a superfluous awe, as it was supplied with an
uncanny feel from what it witnessed. With its hopeless adoring, his soul in the
imaginary self was feeding his craving, subconsciously. With his crave getting
satiated slowly, the fantasy started dissipating and at last the haunted imagination
got exorcised. In a minute’s time, he regained his soul in his real self, to
find out that he was standing aloof from mundane, in the ghastly twilight and
that froze him still, until his cognition grasped the nature of the whole
process. Washing out even a tinge of fantasy left in him, he stood naked in
front of reality, helplessly. As much loathsome he grew of his narcissistic
self, there aroused a startle in him, for, his veteran solitude has had the
potential to unveil such a bizarre fantasy of he copulating with himself, to
sedate his hopeless craving and thus letting his solace befriend his
narcissism. His mouth cried but two words, “INFINITE ME!”
