Friday, May 18, 2012


If i could find a way to retreat to the amniotic folds from whence i emerged and locate a causality, a beginning that would suffuse me with purposefulness ; if i could make the reason for my existence be transposed to an exteriority that would imbricate me in its structures of meaning then i could validate myself. And a fundamental uncertainty assails me when i think of him because i see him and yet don't see him. His image is irrevocably etched in my retina,his physical palpability is apparent yet i seem unable to internalize him, make him my own and create a sense of belonging which one needs with a loved one because it is not random intersections of flesh that constitute love but incorporeal meeting of beings, a welding of two distinct forms who in their seamless coalescence create a new reality, a new paradigm.

My eyes are filmed over as though a crepuscular gloaming darkens their prospect. The penumbra doesn't obfuscate sight but seeing. Seeing with a consciousness that vibrates with self consciousness, is studded with self awareness. The architectonics of my self perception which is in actuality a tenuous self unknowability becomes poignantly painful. When i look into the mirror the tumuli of the lightbulb projecting behind me, the prospect of blinding vision it proffers converges when its presence behind me and its reflected presence in the mirror cleave. Such is the mode of my relation to him. What i would like and and what i see inter project, interpellate and create meanings that ricochet off each other, bouncing off, jostling whilst their fundamental point of fixity, the fulcrum remains intact. These distended, gravid longings are immensely frightening because they take place in a lack, an absence, a zone of non being. I am a tabula rasa, a churning kaleidoscope around whose internal tracts nebulous forms interpenetrate, depart and reconstitute. Their fundamental symbiosis renders them indeterminate.

Yet when i see him i see what i would like. He possesses a certain form of identification i want to ally myself to. Because my mind is a chaotic cauldron and i am as of yet unable to distinguish my primordial desires from each other. I long for a commingling, a coupling whose amorphousness and plasticity suffuse me both with excitement and dread. Because that primeval chaos that i emanate from, my mother's milk i have been nourished from, tie that bound us together is inevitably to be snapped. And worse its a tie that consciously i want to sever but unconsciously retain. It is also a unison with my own kind that i seek. So as it is clear these desires, undetermined, remain forever in potentia. I traverse tenebrous labyrinths.

What also seems clear is that there is a fundamental oppositionality between choice and action, however coextensive and threaded they may seem. In that subfusc hinterland between being and becoming lies a vast gulf, an unbridgeable abyss. Because becoming is a choice which is also a necessity. Being is an intricately wrought fiber, entwined with becoming. Being is coterminous with becoming. Being extends from becoming. There i can only choose to be who i am through navigating with what i am. And what i am is not me but something i've made to correspond to forms that constitute the world that through the attrition of ages have congealed into intractable phenomena.

Thus he whom i love is at once distant from me and simultaneously something that i want to mold myself into. In becoming him i lose myself but through becoming him only can i find myself again.


  1. Being is coterminous with becoming. Being extends from becoming. There i can only choose to be who i am through navigating with what i am......wonderful! I'm loving the Being and Becoming series!

  2. Bharat excellent probe! I like the way you do it. Cheers!

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  4. I find that there is so much poetry in these essays, Bharat. Poetical constructs just below the intellectual. The last paragraph is incredibly beautiful!