Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The Wayfarer and a Woman in the Way

I was on my way, perfectly alone; avoiding the shade because the wind was starting to turn. I listened to the song made by the gentle percussion of the leaves flapping and clapping. As I cleared the nearest hill, where the way veers west, a cry pierced this fluttering song.

A woman lay in the way mournfully wailing. So I went sailing to the spot almost falling down the slope to the violently moaning woman. I stood frozen in horror for moments. She was holding tight her chest; on the left side and right below her shoulder. “Who did this to you? Who could have left you this way?”

It occurred to me that she was extraordinarily beautiful. Even as she wretched her face was docile and her wild glaring eyes widely implied a most unsaintly martyrdom. Offering her some of my water-flask I ask, “What happened to you?”

She winces and weakly squeals. “A wild animal came out from the woods and tore a piece out of me.” She lifted her hand and indeed, there was a part missing from her torso. I used my own shirt to dress the wound and gave her my jacket to wear.

“Come with me, I’ll take you on my back. You need help. You look like you’ve been here a week, dying slowly. I can take you out of these woods alive.”

She told me she was beyond saving.
She would for nothing survive.
She would for nothing, ever get up again.
She had conceded.

I left everything I had there with her. I left grudgingly, helplessly resenting the whole sentiment. Total disillusionment.

No comments:

Post a Comment