… while brainstorming a scene, this piece of excerpt came along:
Unseen, Unheard, Unmentioned…
You are there, right in front of their eyes, soul trembling, and they see you not.
You’d give anything for a drop of love. And they wouldn’t, they wouldn’t give away anything, not even a glimpse of a moment.
Soaked in the pool of selfishness, everything hovers around their persona.
Their wants, their schedule, their gym trainings, and most importantly, their hobby.
You love them. And they see you not.
You give away love. And they feel you not.
They are there, right there with you, in the moment, a moment which gives away so many answers.
So many answers rest within the moment, and still — they don’t get it.
They can’t understand you, hence they pull your hair from a distance with remote control.
I, Mr Control Freak, have the situation under control.
And they send people through, taking control of the moment.
They keep pulling her hair as if they were in the 4th grade and they pull, and they pull.
Later on, they question themselves: Was he good to her? And they keep pulling her hair to grab her attention.
Is abusive behaviour only physical, or can it also be verbal, behavioural...? Passive-aggressive? The tone of voice? But this is a different scene, from another life scenario.
Now I want! I need! And I must have!
I want you, toy of a female.
Is this the new manner of lovemaking?
Pulling the oxygen out of a woman’s lungs?
And then the wheel of life, called balance, comes along.
The wheel of life restores the course to what it should be.
What we call in Arabic,
Khayr Al Umur Al Wassat.
The best of things is balance.
Interestingly, the one speaking of balance gives away the State of Art of Imbalance.
As if pissing on a rose, they had given her up, in the cruellest of ways.
She, a princess away from her tribe, ill, fighting the abyss of depression.
Brain frozen, she carries on, day by day.
She takes every gasp of air in, as deep as she can, for she is struggling for breath and God willing, she moves on. Miraculously. And -- successfully.
Previously, her heart had been burnt in hot oil.
Fried over and over again.
“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” Rumi
Hence she ascends and makes it through the gates of healing.
Reviving from her own sap.
And then — one day, one fine day, they return.
Only that God might have other plans for her.
God knows. Only God knows!
Hence they meet, one more time, as Citizens of Humanity.
For there might be more to this than the eye can meet.
There might be projects of Light and Charity involved.
And the encounter takes place… after a hollow in time.
It must have been a moment of love unseen, unheard, unmentioned… some time, in a past life!