The Line between Confusion and Complexity

The time had finally arrived. They had come face to face. Confrontation had been inevitable, yet, was this the right time? Thought both. It was most difficult for the Line. In the dim, hazy, flickering light of the fireplace, she couldn’t even see him clearly. She could only hear Confusion shifting in his sofa, almost uncontrollably. His crisp ironed drapes were nothing but a forest of creases now. Complexity was late; but isn’t she always? The duration was short, but the wait, endless. Finally, the crackling of the fire and the shifting of Confusions curious drapes was interrupted by footsteps. Calm, calculated, uniform footsteps. In a mixture of panic and relief, Confusion turned around. Line gazed poignantly. One wait was over whilst the other began. The room was filled with the crackles from the fire the rocking of Complexity’s chair.

The Line wanted to break the silence, yet, couldn’t; “how strategic position takes away from one”, she thought. Complexity gazed up at the ceiling as though she could see the stars through it, while Confusion stared point blank at her, sitting as still as a statue. The fire lit their faces partially, but their emotions needed no illumination. Those almost shone through.

Complexity calmly waited, consciously testing Confusions patience. Infact, she enjoyed those moments as blessings of peace; exasperated as she was, at having to be stuck with Confusion. As expected, Confusion broke the silence.

Confusion: So how are you?

Complexity: How do I look?

Confusion: I don’t knoww

Complexity: Do you ever?

Confusion: How come you never ask me how I am?

Complexity: Cause you never know

Confusion: I wanted to discuss a few things with you.

Complexity: I’m glad to see you coming to the point – sooner than usual I note.

Confusion: Why are you so arrogant?

Complexity: You want to discuss me? Are you sure?

Confusion: No, I only wanted to discuss how we are made to cross over and mask each other

Complexity: Why? Do I not make a pleasing cover?

Line: That, is besides the point

Complexity is startled
Confusion: Please do not digress

Complexity to Line: I never knew you could speak

Line: Your constant stepping over me has forced me to. Else, my position does not allow it

Confusion to Line: If you had to do the talking yourself, why did you drag me into this?

Line: Cause you are the one who leads into this crossing over, in any direction

Complexity: you have to understand that I am your future. You are the path and I the destination, and my dear Line who does the Herculean task of keeping him separate from me, you cannot deny fate

Line: I refuse to believe “fate” shall be so unkind to me

Complexity: I would understand if Confusion said that, why you?

Confusion: Fate is not unkind to me!

Line: Indeed, ignorance IS bliss

Complexity: I see you are closer to me than him. Nevertheless, we are here to discuss something else. (Facing Confusion) You may speak

Confusion: I am sick of being used

Complexity: How so?

Confusion: Let me finish at least

Complexity: Proceed sire.

Confusion: I am sick of being at play and then masking me with you. I don’t like it when I am ‘confused’ with you. My incoherence is forcibly cohesed to convince I am you. I am sick of this pretense

Complexity: Hmm…valid, and I must say, true. Even I disagree with clarity of thought being confused with incoherence and I find it most painful to do so. Indeed, many a confused cover you with me and I am an unwilling, yet pleasing disguise.

Confusion: How do you think we can stop this?

Complexity: I think you wouldn’t like me wiping you out.

Line: What do you mean Your Arrogance?

Complexity: Ah! Of course, you’d be wiped out too.
Line: I’d be free

Complexity: My dearest, it is actually this excess of you that is causing your complaints. You are your enemy. Rarely do I not see through you; but you, you cannot tolerate a mirror, and like to please yourself with an image of me. You must learn to recognize, yet once you do, we are one and you are lost. Its your choice


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Funeral

Today, he had died. 

One of them; those who set up the stake she burnt at. 

He, had died. He who had added logs to the fire she burnt in. Yet, she had gone for his funeral. 

Gone to shed tears for him. 

He who had stood afar watching , making small talk and loud gossip of her miserable predicament. 

All the while she burnt. He just, saw. Never felt. Today, she had gone to feel sorry for him. 

He who had not cared if she lost her dignity, her life or her all. 

She was there to feel a loss of him. 

He who she had expected to smother the flames. The flames in which they cremated her alive. 

In flesh and bone. 

In sanity and trust. 

In love. 

In all. All in the name of God. 

Yet, she was there by his deathbed, to make a prayer for him. 

He who had propagated her a God-less woman.

She was in a place of power. Or so she felt.

She was giving them both a chance, both love, and life.
After them having taken all chances with her, it was now her turn.
So oblivious to feeling she was, that she could now sit and watch.
From a place above: a place of comfort, for her; and a place of discomfort, for them.
She would let them play, but not give them cues; make no reactions, just see how it goes on.
Make no moves, just wait for their next move. She was so initiative-less, yet powerful.
For a change, she was watching, and they were watchful.
She was awaited, and they were waiting.
It was she who was in control, of herself; and not them, in control of her.
She was in a place of power.
Or so.
She felt.

Untitled...unfinished

She didn't understand at first, what that bond was, but she felt it pull them close. While they both tried to tear away from it. In their futile, sometimes half-hearted, curious ways. Ways they both saw. Both understood. She understood his unfinished sentences, she could complete them for herself; and him. He understood the nuances of what her eyes said, when they meant when they looked at him. What they meant when they looked away, or back. He could tell from the first, from her voice, whether she was awake or asleep; down or excited; faking or real. She knew when he was faking a smile. She could see beyond his smile. He knew when she was gulping tears, with her smile pasted on her face. There was communication; without words. She cherished that, she loved that. She loved how, he could just...tell. She loved how she always just..knew. She loved his honesty. Even in its brutality. She knew when it was meant to be gentle and when it wasn't. The fact was, they were together in what they loved, and even more together in what they hated.

She understood how he didn't run after her like other guys, he gave her half an hour, but it was hers - undivided. She saw the space that he needed, they both needed, and how understanding this made them closer - inside AND outside of their space. She knew he would not invade her space, and she wanted him to maintain his. She knew that what she would say or do may have consequences, but she wouldn't have to dread them. She just felt so comfortable. She could have an excited chat about everything in the world with him, understand, laugh and redden at all his pereverted jokes; and not live on small talk. Live on conversation; communication, in words, and in silence.

She felt he could fulfill her. They fit like hand in glove. She felt, he as glove could protect her; and she as glove could nurture him, and she wanted this interchangability and knew he wanted it too. That was what she wanted to do, love him and be loved by him, and interchangably. She wanted to share her life with him, live her life with him. She wanted to see the world through his eyes, and she wanted to show him how she saw him glisten in the stars. He seemed to love her with all her flaws, all her little angers, all her craziness, all her moods; she wanted to share all her questions with him, and know all of his, and then quest for the answers together.

She wanted to walk the beach with him, drench in the rain with him, bungee jump with him, rock climb, para-glide, you name it!. If life was to be a roller-coaster, she wanted to ride it with him, scream it with him, do no-hands! with him, hold on tight with him, and if fall, fall with him. Live her life aaalll the way with him, go wherever he took her, stay wherever he stayed. Run up escalators that were coming down, wear the same unisex perfume, drive the same little alto (and in her crazy manner- where all lanes are fast lanes) and converse in songs - even if everyone else thought we were crazy but we wouldn't care. She wanted to be her own skin with him and she felt she could be, her true self without layers assigned by "the appropriate police" - she was sick of them - the police AND the layers. She wanted to shed them before they tried to become her skin!

She wanted to laugh till she cried and cry till she laughed, cuz he could do that - he could make her. Say "yes" the next time he offered to buy her flowers, and say "i know" the next time he said "i forget my whole life when i see your pretty face" - even if it was in sinhala (and she saw it as true in his eyes when he said it). She loved how they both behaved like they were in a big movie and they were the stars. She was the heroine and she wanted him to be the leading man. Make our lives in this stupid, unforgiving, not-understanding, temporary world - worthwhile. Be the "happy-uplifting balm" to each other.