She wove conscientiously the points keeping in mind most of the time the greatest good of all. She knew that some of what she wove would not be witnessed in her time but in eons to come. Other parts of what she wove were for immediate results or results on the short or medium term. In the beginning it had been disappointing that the desires she had did not have an immediate resolution but she had learnt to accept this. She looked upon her task as a humanitarian one as she was weaving a better consciousness. She wondered how many out there were like her weaving a better series of connections into the collective consciousness.
Sometimes, her old shadows returned and she would need to stop the weaving during those days. That could mean no weaving for several days in a row. She always wondered whether her consciousness would still be connected so closely with the collective consciousness to affect it in a significant way or if these days of absence would have weakened the contact. Every time she had such doubts they were dispelled immediately when she returned to weave for the greatest good of all and saw the almost immediate results. She wondered how she could cope with her shadow selves to bring them out to the light and no longer have to sit in between all the time. This would allow her to keep weaving every day instead of having to make a pause.
One day she caught herself talking to one of her shadow selves that had strayed into the room. It was no longer lurking behind her as they always tended to do when they manifested, watching her, thinking she was unaware of their presence or pretending they thought that. She normally would only observe them and try to fill them with light but they would take cover, literally and refuse to be dissolved most of the time although she had been able to lighten a couple of them. Today however, she decided to talk to the one who had unwittingly strayed into the room.
Why do you need to provoke the advent of darkness, she said
Because that is what we are made of, she answered
But you are me and if you are me, you cannot be made of darkness for I am light
There is no light without darkness so therefore if you are light, we have to be darkness
Will you always exist? Is there no end to some of you?
Who knows? You have taken such liberty with the self that there is so much light. We have kept some to ourselves. It is our bubbles of liberty where we choose to express the colours grey and black. Are they not colours too? Why refuse them? Surely as an artist you should know that a palette must be complete? How would you paint the night without us? Or the ravens or the dark clouds if not for those colours?
She thought to herself that she must be right. She should perhaps leave them these bubbles of liberty.
He warped into the stocky short girl who started staring at her. The girl smiled somewhat shrewdly. “I have so many questions for you” he said with her voice. She looked back at the girl knowing it was his consciousness from within that was uttering those words. Somehow, she did not feel like playing this game anymore. It had been days that he had been warping in and out of the people around her. He was no longer content with being a shadowless and formless being surrounding her and invading her personal space whenever he felt like it. He had either discovered or always known how to warp into other human beings misplacing their consciousness and having his own rule over their body from within.
She sighed and got back on her feet with a tight smile to the lady facing her. “I have to go” she told her in a tired voice. He peered back at her smugly from within the eyes of the girl. She wondered when he would get tired of playing games and just decide once and for all if he wanted to really be with her or not. She walked back to her room and starting dancing. When he behaved this way, the only soothing thing she could think of was either dancing or sufi whirling. Both appeased her immensely. Her swirl slowly morphed into a whirl as she stood with one hand offered to the skies and the other offering to the ground, in the typical gestures accompanying sufi whirling.
Things did not seem so bad anymore when she practiced sufi whirling. It was as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders. As she stopped whirling after a while, she felt his invisible presence again. He had quit pretending. She could feel him staring at her but for some reason he did not seem to want to taunt her anymore…
Note:
This piece may be read as a follow-up to the piece initially titled “Sensation” which you can find when toggling on the blogroll in my blog. The posts were edited on 9 March to include the title of the series “The Body Rider” so Sensation is now called “The Body Rider 1: Sensation” for coherence sake.
Images courtesy George Redhawk aka DarkAngel0ne who is blind and uses GIF to “see” art mainly transformed into gif from art works by Thomasz Alen Copera
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