Taken

There has always been her. The other woman. That seductress wild wind, holder of desires. The red little luscious fruit in his eyes shining. Settled like she lived in them. From an era ago.

It is her from who he gets all his happyness. Calmly invisibly, she has captured his soul so well. Merely being around him, tells me about her hold on him. Tenacious, not letting go, assured.

That content certainty makes me envious. Notwithstanding who we are. The both of us. She and I. The two absolute ends of his fate. Each, one of the two mutually exclusive choices he could make. Options he could pick. Lifealtering, nevertheless.

He is the translucent shield of glass between us. In him I see her. Through him, she sees me. She must. Else this game wouldn't be fair. Like everything else. In the man he is, I see not the man he is but the man she has made of him. Every bent of emotion, every glance of expression, everything in him reminds me of her. And how she had him taken from me. Taken.

And invariably turned the tables. Twisted destiny, what was to be. Made me into the other woman.

11 comments:

S.H. said...

Beautiful. Stark.Honest.

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Perhaps, it is her enchantedness that drives him to her, but there has to be something in Him too, that binds both the facets of her to him :)


Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete

KWP said...

intense

Syed Ali Hamid said...

Fresh perspective, this reversal of roles.
The last line is like the end-couplet of a Shakespearean sonnet.
Good.

Surya Prakash V said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Surya Prakash V said...

the river they say paused that night, or was it twilight? She saw the desire in the undrunk; thirsting for her bounty lips; she paused they say, till he walked away in dismay; 

on the shore lay his placid home; decorated like the starlit night; eyes gorged and hollow; like the flutter caused by the beauty of his love.

And while walking back; they say he wailed; in sorrow; for he let go - his thirst of tomorrow; and the river ran it's course; to her grave; a taste she bestowed on mankind; a medley of tears, songs washed ashore like fears; and in it's womb were a myriad of colors; many forms and a few treasures. And a song; with a lyrical charm. 

The man returned to cast a net; to claim the kiss of debt. 

I can't believe them; for when did it stop? This river in spate? 

Raj said...

I see not the man he is but the man she has made of him.

and is it not similar, what he had made of her for her to make of him.

Enchanta said...

I am not ashamed of exclaiming yet again how you manage to do this every single time.

Such profoundness, such soul-tearing intensity.

And that honesty, that heart wrenching honesty in you that keeps me, a mere reader begging to know so much more.

And what do you know, my darling, maybe the man in him that got her to be his, was the man you made of him...?

D2 said...

But will the wheels not roll back to the beginning? Back to the beginning of the cycle that this is?
The seductress and the new enchantress will be different, no matter what she says.
I love your clear honesty.

The Sage said...

maybe for some other man, she might have been the seductress... she might have taken him from some other woman...

Tan said...

this unfortunately makes me hope that I have taken HIM... In the man he is, I see not the man he is but the man I HAVE made of him.