Mother and Doctor from the Bangalore Film Society sent this and I’m posting it as is...
“The pilgrim stood in the great void of the seventh city, the city of the revelations, muttering prayers that announced the completion of his arduous journey and beseeching that he now, be swept away by he blinding light of truth and redemption. Nothing happened. Silence remained, as thick and impassive as the walls. Bent at the knees, the pilgrim collapsed. Snatches from his own life, memories of his long pilgrimage to the seventh city now convulsed and throbbed in the hollow of his body. The mind and the soul snapped and he howled. The silence and the walls echoed the scream, twisting it into a grotesque wail of agony and in the darkness of the void; he saw a vision of flesh and pain- a grotesque structure of countless flailing limbs, mouths and torsos. At the top were the heads- pig-like and mindless, mouths that knew only to consume with knowing any limits. At the bottom lay the diseased- the screaming and abscessed, the entrails. And in the middle, lay the torsos and the bellies, blind to ecstasy, beauty, agony, disgust, all human feeling and seeking only continuous sedation and numbing. The red furnace light of the vision tinged the walls and the pilgrim, fallen on the ground, recognized the sanctum sanctorum of the seventh city, the womb, l’originie du monde. Fear gripped him, a fear whose seeds lay in a sense of betrayal and later morphs into terror when the betrayal announces itself in the form of an unnatural and mutant monstrosity. There would be no redemption. The source itself had been parched, poisoned and forgotten by the prodigal offspring who in a delusion of misguided intelligence and hubris had turned itself into a parasite- the human parasite.”
- Ibn Al- Nahati, The Final Journals
- Ibn Al- Nahati, The Final Journals
2 comments:
In the crowded market place
The cages were empty
No redemption
No buying back
No ransom
A beast caged in the heart of the city
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