The face and the mask signify a constant tussle between self and the self-proclaimed. A growing rift between Mukh and Mukhosh. The appearance may in some cases probably be intermittent but the effects undoubtedly far reaching for all. Even when it is buried deep inside the darkest of conscience after years of refinement, the web of mystery always sticks to the skin. Either learn to live with it or be prepared to be chased by it for eternity.
It is a structured layer of defense to the darkest corner of the mind. Each segment represents a face to the outside world, varying by the degree of penetration the spectator holds. Each and every individual among us probably has it. The very stratum of this hypocritical society is glued with it; witness and performer alike.
These typical arrangements sometimes do posses a challenge when the implanted face suddenly finds prominence and refuses to buzz from the lime light. So begins the tug of war. The eternal good now stands to question its own makings. The creation slowly but surely overpowering the creator imparts its own wisdom and strength along with the darkest of desires.
The metamorphosis is now complete.
Ironically the very creator who earlier succumbed to the slow yet determined encroachment of the “face” now finds solace in those very corners which incubated the victorious in the first place. The painstakingly slow healing process of battered self takes its own due course of time until at some point it becomes powerful enough to challenge the adversary.
Without realizing much; this constant whimsical alterations between the face and the mask becomes a controllable habit after years of conscious and unconscious effort of the duo. They become interchangeable with a panache eventually. The chemistry is as deadly as it can get. The ensuing fire due to the friction attached raises the possibility of burning both along with bunch of other folks having no knowledge whatsoever of the transformation. A cynic would put collateral damage estimate to a modest figure but the devastation is already done with irreversible effects.
There are times when a little willing self retrospection is indeed required to discover the true self, the belongings and the cognizable surroundings. It is always a sad but enduring process of rediscovery.
"And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight?"
Faltering steps but a shoulder to lean and take rest. Eyes closed and it's wet everywhere, the trees, buildings.
