A Field Unharvested

the indomitable human spirit

I see you sitting on the lap of Shiva. You glow in marital bliss, contented with consummation. The union of Purusha and Prakriti begins a gala time for the Cosmos.

Flowers bloom. Rivers flow. Birds sing.

I stare at you, Mother.

Erupts within me a bitterness, a green envy that recoils at the sight of your mesmerising form. I seek Shiva as a husband, but I am not you. My half-baked mind tells there's no difference between us– you and me– so I smile with the satisfaction.

But, am I really you? For to merge with Kalika is not a child's play. She tests, she breaks. Ugra Tara you are. As well as the beautiful, golden Gauri.

My feeble body, even weaker mind, cracks and crushes under the weight of expectations. I am neither you nor Shiva. Just a mortal walking on Earth. Sinning. Then contemplating. Finding a balance worthy of living.

So, it shall roll on. The wheels of my chariot triumphantly covers this battlefield. I know I shall die a victor, but what more?

Endless lives it will take for me to be your equivalent. With this body, a temple of sin which can't burn like Sati, and a mind so blemished like Chandra, eons shall pass for me to attain you.

Yet, I will.