Wednesday, September 4, 2013

ROAMING IN THE GLOAMING

The evening dresses rippled, sheathing lissome integuments with mosaic streaks. The air, enveloped by an imperceptibly thickening mist, doffed its pellucidity. Somewhere a cricket rasped, elsewhere a tinkling laughter pealed forth. Inside the house shafts of light were refracted by the chandelier. A dense thicket of suppressed emotion permeated. Superfices billowed and decorum prevailed. Latent, subterranean emotions bubbled up intermittently, revealing all too human attributes and, under the polite surfaces of small talk, were snuffed out. Yet they left behind nebulous intimations of human depth, glimpsed momentarily.

'On an evening like this shakespeare comes to mind. A great artist, a transcendent consciousness, a man who was unafraid to look at the profundities and embalmed them memorably.

'Certainly though great art endures retrospectively. It is absorbed through myriads of ages, distilled through the aegis of different temporal zones and congealed as sublime. '

'Still temporal is so subjective, isn't it? Even within it multitudes of consciousnesses repose. Iridescent prisms of individual genius, beyond time and age, exist and change the fabric of society'.

'Fabrics are constituted by infinitesimal threads of association, meshed to the past, yet subtly changed by the present. There is an unceasing continuance, though the constituents vary.'

'It is in the constituents that the essence lies. They, hurled indeterminately pell mell, bring forth variegated responses and inflict on the wheel of time and the kaleidoscope of history, cataclysmic changes'.

'Don't these metamorphoses have a precedent? Conditions change but the underlying human propensity remains unalterable. '

'Look at this champagne. Its bubbles float around, concentrate and disperse but eventually they burst out of existence. Nothing is unchanging. Only change is certain'

'Witness that evening gown. It is threaded with memory, speckled with causality. An incident, a time frame, a thought, a moment of being are not singular but part of a whole. In the subfusc transience of our existence our incontrovertible humaneness is the only certainty'.

'Deliberations on time , memory desire yield contradictory views. Yet this interchange has afforded a peek into being. Though the enclosures of polite talk undermines deeper depths to surface there has been, in this colloquy, bits of the inner, glimpsed evanescently yet, indubitably captured and held'

'And the human frame, composed of unknown quantities can never proffer more than a ephemeral hint. These visitations  are highly unconscious yet they, with their luminous edges, irradiate and intensify perception and transform being'

These filaments of perception, unmediated by deception, unflanked by despair illumine and intermingle, in the penumbra of human unknowingness, dapples of knowing. The cricket's screech whisks down the spines of the guests, the wine glides seamlessly down their parched throats and conversation lapses yet again into an interminable discussion of the quotidian. 

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