Monday, January 15, 2007

Mumtaz



Many years later lying still in the night he would recall the precise moment he lost his moorings.The clarity of that time would stay with him while everything else about him would fall into sad decline, infirmity like an intestinal worm eating him away from inside. Now as then there would be no admission of this private thought to anyone.
The past was never dead as long it was kept locked deep and hidden away inside.

He declared all the clocks and calenders be stopped all across the land. Time brought to a halt till, by his imperial decree, it turned toward the new direction of his life, back into the past, back to that time when the sun would still rise and then set, to always awaken the following day.

A year he spent hidden away. Then, re-merging a spectre, black hair turned to white, certain purpose turned wayward and thrown into disarray
. Time had moved on as much as the markers lied. He knew and still, he could not look that way.

Another 20 years would pass, him now cast aside, a family laid low and cut by fratricide, his daughter a lone imprisoned aide and that marble mausoleum that could never fill the void.

Tonight he knew the time had come and he would no longer have to hold his secret inside, because he knew she had never really died.





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