I: I want to shout at the top of my voice.
He: Then shout!
I: I cannot.
He: Why can you not?
I: I don't know.
He: What don't you know?
I: That if I can or cannot shout at the top of my voice.
He: What else don't you know about?
I: I don't know about many things!
He: Like?
I: Like God, women, sex, kiss, lips, religion, vagina.
He: You are mad! An absolute idiot.
I: Do you think so?
He: Yes!
I: Why do you think so?
He: Because you talk rot.
I: Is shouting rot?
He: Yes.
I: But I did not shout!
He: You just did.
I: I did? When?
He: Just now.
I: Did you hear it?
He: Yes. Your voice was so loud that it punctured my eardrum.
I: So can my voice be heard?
He: I can hear it clearly. It has a ring to it!
I: Why cannot I hear it?
He: Because you haven't spoken yet!
I: Haven't I?
He: No, you haven't.
I: Then what did you hear?
He: It was a voice.
I: Was it my voice?
He: I don't know. I cannot say.
I: Let's not speak anymore.
'I' let's out a loud and an extended howl. Sobs.
[THE END]
--
(c) All rights reserved, 2012 by Ratandeep Satwant Singh.
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Comments: 25
Thanks for sharing with The Surreal Circus.
"Because God put His admantine fate
Between my sullen heart and its desire,
I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate,
Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire.
Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy,
But Love was a flame around my feet;
Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beat
Thrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry -
All the great courts were quiet in the Sun,
And full of vacant echoes; moss had grown
Over the glassy pavement, and begun
To creep within the dusty council-halls
An idel wind blew round and empty throne
And stirred the heavy curtains on the walls."
Now, that's something to shout about my good man. So shout, Satwant, knowing you have given entertainment and joy with this piece.
- R
:+)
Thank you very much for your generous and uplifting comment.
Your mention of "Failure" is quite apt here. I've loosely based this dialogue on "Song for myself" by Walt Whitman - "I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world". At some point or another, we definitely throttle our creative well-being by acceding to idiosyncrasy (mostly sedimentary religious sentiments), we don't really subscribe to. The burgeoning dogmas strangle us to the point of making us wish that we indeed had a voice of own.
This is my very humble attempt to portray the above sentiments.
Thanks again and have a great day.
--
Take care,
Ratan
My two cents....
Thanks again, Robert.
I've had those conversation where each participant seems to be on a different track and there is never any resolution or agreement...sort of like politics...or religion...
I liked this. Very good.
Thank you submitting to Gathers Luminous Writers and Artists.
Thank you very much for your generous and uplifting comment.
I've loosely based this dialogue on "Song for myself" by Walt Whitman - "I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world" and have tried to render an absurdist tinge to it. At some point or another, we definitely throttle our creative well-being by acceding to idiosyncrasy (mostly sedimentary religious sentiments), we don't really subscribe to. The burgeoning dogmas strangle us to the point of making us wish that we indeed had a voice of our own.
This is my very humble attempt to portray the above sentiments.
Thanks again and have a great day.
--
Take care,
Ratan
I see where you subscribe to originality in your works
but not in your comments
:+)
Hi Stephen....
When I'm moderating, I rarely read the previous comments, so sometimes, inadvertently, I repeat one already there. Great minds sometimes think alike...:)
Please keep commenting! :-)
Thanks for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
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