Two Mornings

By Jatin Vatsa

Two Mornings

Morning 1: The Hero, The Shadow and The Necessary Death 

As the hero approaches the day after a long night of slaying dragons, small and big, he enters his house which upon dawn lightens up with the sunlight which seeps through the windows. As with the nature of light, the which it cannot penetrate leaves the which it's shadow so it does with the hero as well. 

The hero standing straight with his chest swollen with pride notices his shadow casted by the light and he then begins to question.

Have I not won enough battles? 

Does not the corpse of the dragon lie here now? Of the dragon whose tail, so long that it carries through in it, history and its rituals?

Have I not slain enough dragons, small, big, old and new?

Have I not uncovered the many truths hidden deep in mysteries of mines and your forest?

Are my deeds not noteworthy that now you my shadow must remain colorless?

Show me, my shadow, the who I have to slay next?

Am I not right to guess that something awaits me for which you have remained silent till now?

After asking these questions, the hero falls silent and to that silence , the shadow answers:

Its the truth when you speak of the dragons slain.

And as the lifeless corpse of history stinks, it lures an unseen monster, who now demands your sacrifice.

And its truth as well when you speak of battles you won

But there is one more battle which awaits you now.

Surely many truths you have uncovered but the uncoverings are not yet true, there is no sacred truth.

What is you will remain a mystery even to yourself.

And for your next battle, it lies in the darkness of the deepest of caves ready to be called abysses.

Until which the hero starts to feel unrest and he asks his shadow :

Who is the monster, the abyss, my next battle that is awaiting it's death?

To which the shadow replies :

It's the dragon of knowing, the dragon never heard or seen before.

You must now face the battle of death, a necessary one at that too.

It awaits you now, it devourers swollen prides.

And I here, call your death!

Die! And in your death give birth to the hope of a new future! The hope of tying the shadow with the being, in order to the complete being.

Morning 2 : The Dance

It's again the morning, again the dawn. The clock hits 9 and again it's time for dance! 

He dances for a living, he dances from 9 until fine!

The dance is a well sequenced order of steps carefully crafted for optimal beauty and adequate living. 

And as he gets ready, the show is just about to start...

From one, there were two and then the battle commenced.

He dances in harmony, his knees bend, toes hop with the tunes and the arms move in synchronicity with the highs and lows and the drops of music.

She laughs at such a dance, she would rather jump and keep jumping from place to place and in jumping, her toes like the fingers of a pianist has the will to unearth tunes never heard of.

He longs, begs and bargains with her for a dance, it's for his and the harmony's sake he is bargaining for.

But such a reason is a confinement for her and as much as she likes to jump, she rather still would like to fly.

Her resistance is his greatest pain and a little dance with her replenishes so much of him and makes the harmonies even sweeter.

She is frightened of that dance as to why be one in dancing while the split echoes of eternity.

She has two parts in herself, one creating and one participating, both laced with excellence. He is concerned with the latter more than the former.

He has two parts of himself too, one hunger and one compassion. With compassion he caresses and hugs her dreams but the hunger makes him concerned with her participation.

He is in a constant struggle of trying and getting a hold on that part of hers, he borrows her from dreams of eternity to put on a show.

And when finally the show is about to start, she lends herself to him, delaying eternity, rejoining one another.

And again from two, there was one.

By Jatin Vatsa