Sunday, February 21, 2010


My chestnut steed is ready. No supporters, no gawks, no critics. No fanfare. No audience. My target, at once formidable and vulnerable, is waiting unaware. My longbow is restless, in a flaccid grip. I have to get ready.

I try to control the storm that is my mind. I gaze at distances beyond – plains, valleys, mountains, and unknown seas. I think of past and present. Here and now, there and then. A synesthetic mixing of time and space. I mount my horse.

I let go of my thoughts. The rightness of it. The selfishness of it. I bring in the emptiness of Zen. The target does not matter anymore. It does not, not in the end. What matters are me and my bow and my one shot. The rest is vacuum. And when my arrow finds my target, I will find myself. In that perfection of the process, I will discover who I am. My horse breaks into a gallop.

I sit erect on the saddle. My left arm is outstretched and the length of the bow is a steady perpendicular. I draw the string to its limit. It seems to produce music, a martial rhythm ushered by my pounding pulse. My arrow waits in bridled power. Silence envelops me. The world comes to a standstill. I move at breakneck speed.

And then, the moment suspended in time, I see my target. I release my arrow. It whistles through time and space, beyond mountains and seas, beyond yesterdays and tomorrows.

As I ride away, the Samurai in me slowly vanishes. The void of Zen gradually fills with a clutter of stifled feelings. I am less sure of myself now. Did I really shoot the arrow? Did the arrow find my target? Was I ever a Samurai or just some street cupid, manipulating my own story? And will I ever find myself? My bow is in my hand. Will I get another shot?


Roopa said...

Ganga, Rekz, Arch, Shail, Devi, MIP, Pallavi, Usha, Salil, K, Pathe, Raakhee, Dee, any and all my well-wishers who might chance upon my Drifting Dandelions: I am aborting this attempt of a blog for the simple reason that it is not working out. One, who am I fooling? My dandelions might dissipate, but they don’t live. Two, what I had in mind were dreamier, more fantastical creations, which have the ability to lift the reader from the mundane; what I am creating might just bog him/her down – or worse for me, leave him/her indifferent. Basically, I am not satisfied.

I am not giving up though. I will reappear on the blogging world no doubt, perhaps not rise like a phoenix, but at least resurface like a floating piece of driftwood. If the dandelions don’t drift, at least the driftwood might... if you get my drift. :) ..... sigh..

Ganga Dhanesh said...

What's this dear? You are one of the best writers I've ever come across...ask the innumerable people I recommend your blog to...When is the creator ever happy with her creation anyways?

Resurface in the published world, ....i get so irritated when I see writing that is so mundane, so pedestrian but is a "bestseller", creates a "revolution" and what not! God, it's time really good writers such as you, Rekz, Arch and the rest of our blogger gang writes to a much wider audience!!!

Waiting for the driftwood to drift along to the "whole wide world"!!!

Usha Pisharody said...

Mundane? Please no!

I am so uplifted by what I have read today, that I feel adrenalin surging, in words. I know I shall write again, this weekend! And most of it is because of the magic I found here.

I do hope you will be back, as the dandelion, not the driftwood (which by the way, is just as beautiful too!!!)

C'mon, dont deprive us, please?

Anonymous said...

Roops, you cannot do this!! Honestly, you are THE best writer I have come across in a long long time. And what you write here, is indeed fantastical and dreamy, and it does lift one above the mundane. Would suggest that you write in the various Writers Forums on Ryze, then you will realise how fantastic you are!! And Roopa, the more you write, the better you get. So please don't stop!!!

The Mad Alpha Moggie said...

:) :)
The moggies await your return...

much love