.
She was hand-crafted from the finest clay; sat dignified, lady-like upon the table - a symbol of perfect symmetry and voluptuous beauty. A hollow pitcher, created with a defined purpose - and not just for visual delight. She sat patiently with the rested confidence of one who believes in herself and higher powers.
He was created with a defined purpose too. It was time to let go of the adventurous days of recklessly flowing around the country-side, thundering over hills and titillating valleys. It was time to shake off his sins and retire to a more stable life-style. Should he nurture the cut-flowers on an old-lady's table?
She accepted him sedately as he was made to pour down her back and settle into her belly. He felt cold in the dark and dreary place, and though her earthy odor was familiar, he could only go so deep - she couldn't be moved to bear life and laughter. He sighed and realized this would be his final resting place.
And now her purpose was being fulfilled, was she satisfied with herself? Was there any scope to build something more beautiful than to nurture flowers cut off of some plant thriving in the rich and youthful soil of the garden outside?
.
She was hand-crafted from the finest clay; sat dignified, lady-like upon the table - a symbol of perfect symmetry and voluptuous beauty. A hollow pitcher, created with a defined purpose - and not just for visual delight. She sat patiently with the rested confidence of one who believes in herself and higher powers.
He was created with a defined purpose too. It was time to let go of the adventurous days of recklessly flowing around the country-side, thundering over hills and titillating valleys. It was time to shake off his sins and retire to a more stable life-style. Should he nurture the cut-flowers on an old-lady's table?
She accepted him sedately as he was made to pour down her back and settle into her belly. He felt cold in the dark and dreary place, and though her earthy odor was familiar, he could only go so deep - she couldn't be moved to bear life and laughter. He sighed and realized this would be his final resting place.
And now her purpose was being fulfilled, was she satisfied with herself? Was there any scope to build something more beautiful than to nurture flowers cut off of some plant thriving in the rich and youthful soil of the garden outside?
.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThis one talks about how a relationship ends even before it begins. He's ready to become stale. And she too rigid.
ReplyDeletei just love the analogy in every word.. truly inspired!
ReplyDeleteI hate the third paragraph.
ReplyDeleteEdited to reflect the true meaning better. The earlier version, for reference:
ReplyDeleteShe was hand-crafted from the finest clay; sat dignified, lady-like upon the table - a symbol of perfect symmetry and voluptuous beauty. A hollow pitcher, created with a defined purpose - and not just for visual delight. So she sat patiently with the rested confidence of one who believes in herself and higher powers.
He was created with a defined purpose too. He should let go of the adventurous days of aimlessly loitering around the country-side. It was time to shake off his sins and retire to a more stable life-style. Should he nurture the cut-flowers on an old-lady's table?
He slid down her smooth back, a little surprised. Why did she not clamor and clang like he had expected she would? And what was that heavenly odor emanating from any place they came in contact with each other? She reminded him of happy days long gone... and he felt like he was almost getting lost in her...
Her confidence was gone for a toss. She knew that this was what she was designed for, but was she prepared for the intimacy? Could she hold him together and make this work? Would he stay with her and not yearn for his wild days in the river?
It was time to shake off his sins and retire to "a more stable life-style...He sighed and realized this would be his final resting place...His set purpose...."
ReplyDeleteThese evoke in my mind this very image, an image as sad as a pool of stagnant water...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Rembrandt_-_The_Philosopher_in_Meditation.jpg
@anonymous: You know exactly what I'm talking about. I wonder what it was that made him feel that way about life... in this piece I have portrayed it as old age without wisdom - at some point in time, he didn't realize his true potential and formed misconceptions about his "purpose". I wonder if that is also applicable to Rembrandt's philosopher.
ReplyDelete