O! For a Fair Judgment

[ Ego, Orpheus, mulierem amavi cum eam omnes viri prodidissent. ]

The bluish intrigue of deception attracted her! She could see that he was reinstating his authority in hell with a clear jurisprudence, yet he had balanced his powers with a poise that almost felt like walking on a rope! Orpheus seemed to have a very clear vision of what he wanted from her, yet this vision did not include an obligation for having been loved.

Vice understood that she was free to love him or not, yet she had no other choice but to love him if she wanted the evil powers that he could bestow. Also, she was assured that he would love her still even though she did not.

The choice was illusory, but was it deceptive? He did not hide his desire to grieve her, yet he carried her sorrows like precious memories. He did not make it obligatory to love him, yet he did not leave other options, but not by force. She could almost see him spread his wings over the forbidden forest, as if the trees, and even their shadows, were created of his own darkness. The black river herself wanted to be one with this darkness, as if she could feel the ocean turn into the night sky.  

He offered unconditional protection for her, but he was very clear about taking away her sons, yet with such simplicity that she did not even notice his deadly strategies! If not for the great grief that was about to overwhelm her, she felt that she might have smiled at the Devil’s fairness!  

In all these tidings, she could feel the sanctity of pure love, the holy desires of the lover who had no patience for competition. The evil itself seemed deceptive, because when she looked into his eyes, she could only see the dreams of a quiet lake, and of the silent light that shines in the darkness. She judged again and again, only to find that he did not betray anyone- no, not even his enemies, all of whom were pretending to be like him! Instead, he would rather give the sons his likelihood, and put them through the same trials of hell that he goes through, just to be fair.

However, Shanaya was much crueller, by all means! The White Queen did not entertain the luxury of giving the condemned ones a fair trial, and instead intended to finish all of them in one heavenly ragini, if not for him. So, if anyone was patiently protecting her sons from immediate annihilation, it was still Orpheus, who was the Lord of Hell!

Sandhya was perplexed at the complexity of this politics, and at the same time, realized that she must determine her role in the theatre, so the show must go on! She knew that the fates were strange, and her wisdom told her to follow Orpheus like a waking dream. She was readying herself for a new era, an eventuality that was deceptive yet not deceitful.

She could feel that Orpheus was smiling to himself, knowing well that his plan had succeeded. However, she could not see anything beyond the silver mask.

Thus was the soliloquy of the Dark Queen, when she realized that, all of a sudden, she had been called upon by the forbidden forest to absolve the karmic debts that she had long ignored, whether by apathy or by love.    

Te corpus nihili, tu es daemon meus amator!

Obstiti contra; tandem apparuit persona: absolve mihi!

Derivat daemonum discessu pietas mandata sancta.

Non tristis aegrota; sum callida abstinere furiis.

Te corpus nihili, tu es daemon meus amator!

प्रत्यतिष्ठम् अहं घोरे; ततश्चाविर्बभूव सः ।

रूपं किमपि मे रक्ष, मुञ्च मामिति चाब्रुवम् ॥

दूरे याताः पिशाचास्ते, धर्मोऽगृह्णात् पवित्रताम् ।

नाहं शोचामि रुक्मग्नः, सुदक्षो रक्षसां भये ॥

त्वं मे शरीरं शून्यस्य, त्वं मे राक्षस-प्रेमिकः॥

*Latin and Sanskrit are written with help of AI. 

Pretensions of the Dusk

[ Ego, Orpheus, mulierem lapsam ad paenitentiam vocavi. ]

The desires of the dusk were narrated with an inevitable conclusion of dark poetry. Across the deadly bend, the men were summoned to witness the cataclysmic regret of the black river, the rage of not having killed everyone near and far! Her fatalism was absolute, of terror and revenge, and of her askance at the forbidden forest.

She had found her lover whom she could doom, someone who would willingly disappear within her endless dark lust, and yet make her cry at his loss. Vice intended to know if, at all, her lover was worthy of her vengeance, and if not, still worthy of dying every moment for her!

Sandhya wanted to understand if she could engulf the infernal and derive her evil power from their souls. She had tried to love her men with a true heart, and had entrusted them with agreements, only to find that she had been used by the demons to derive the blessing of life, a safeguard in hell that they took only for granted.

At first, she was oblivious, as she was fragile, and thought of it as her solemn duty to protect her love for the prisoners. Then, when she felt betrayed, she turned to deceit and malice, a strategy that indebted her to the laws of hell, for then she found that she must rely on imperial forgiveness for her vindication.

She was yet to realize that the absolute nothingness of the forbidden forest required all debts to be answered, even if by eternal unforgiveness. She could deny everyone, but she could not deny the karma she had acquired, even though she tried to ignore it as an obsolete necessity that could be met with pretensions. By the time she had come to know Orpheus, her debts were so momentous that she was at a loss as to how to come to terms with them!

The love of Orpheus was her last choice before she descended into solitary madness, inconsequential or not. His presence within her was unlike anything else she had ever experienced, for now she had started to feel the assurance of finding the consort of her hellish fantasies.

She wanted to confess all her lies to him, but he had quieted her with a kiss of forgiveness, as if it hurt him to hear how far she had fallen. Sandhya almost knew that nothing was hidden from Orpheus, and that he was imploring her to forbid herself from deceit, so as her outstanding debts would eventually be redeemed by her repentance.

In all this, she could sense that deceit and deception were different at the core, and her pretensions were adored by the poet. She also sensed that the lives of her sons were demanded of her, a duty of absolving the agreements that were once sealed by blood oath.  

Thus were Sandhya’s confessions to the forest, as she lay sleepless on her oceanic jasper bed, believing that the early morning light would show her the way, without asking that she forbids herself from trusting herself.

Lamentare mihi, o sancte liberator, lamentare te descendentem ad inferna.

Te cognosco paradoxum, te cognosco sagacem,

Te apparuisse et sanctum mihi, sanctum mihi terrorem.

Tempora diruuntur confusa, tibi non decipiam me, ipse vocaris mirari aethera.

Et mihi paradisus es? Et me ipse paradisum reddes?

मदर्थं विलापं कुरु, हे पवित्र परित्रातः, नरकं प्रति गच्छन्तं त्वामेव विलापं कुरु।
त्वाम् एकं विरोधाभासं जानामि, त्वां च धीमन्तं जानामि,
मम पुरतः तव प्रकटनं हि एकं पवित्रं भयं, मम कृते पवित्रं भयम् एवाभूत्।
व्याकुलाः कालाः विदीर्यन्ते, मा स्म त्वाम् वञ्चयेयम्, त्वं स्वयम् आकाशं वीक्षितुम् आहूतोऽसि।
किं त्वं मम परलोक इव असि? किं च त्वं स्वयमेव माम् अपि नन्दनवनं करिष्यसि?

*Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI. 

* { Vijaya Dashami , 2026 }

The Tears of the Blue Flower

[ Ego, Orpheus, lapsam suis mendaciis feminam liberavi. ]

It was a cloudy, early morning wonder that drew Orpheus closer to the river. He was staring very still at the sight of a blue flower near the edge of the black river, at a place where the petals seemed to whisper the strangest tidings to the water.

He had paused his flute, as if waiting for the tearful music of the water to wander within his heart, knoweth in perfect melody with a distant nightingale, a bird singing of secrets that the river yearned for. The birdsong alighted on the petals of the Phlox like a white butterfly, whose fairy wings were reminiscent of memories yet unheard of.

He was thinking of Sandhya, how beautiful she is, and how she had held his hand like a prayer. She seemed to mesmerize his thoughts in a spell that was true of the soul, yet doubtful of his heart. He could sense the river was deceitful at its wild turns, maybe warning him not to come near anymore. The lonely phlox was poised on the edge of a turn like a silent witness to his rendezvous with Sandhya, her bluish-mauve presence held sacrosanct in the purity of the poet’s heart.   

Sandhya had looked him in the eyes after she had gently taken away his mask. Her own eyes were of a misty blue hue, and he could see eons of desire reflected in them, memories that she herself had forgotten.

She had asked him in a desperate plea to love her evermore, yet she could not ask him to release her sons from his paradox. Instead, she had ventured to ask Orpheus why she could not love any other men before him, as she had hoped to love him.

Her confessions were true, as she admitted to having loved other men with the same devotion, but had found her heart betrayed every single time. She had begun to wonder if there was something wrong in her, in so much as her ability to love was concerned.  

Orpheus could sense the sorrow of her heart, a strange sadness lamenting less at the fall of man, and more of her own forbearance. He had held her naked waist with a bold embrace, while her tears touched his black garment like the evanescence of blood from the heart of a dying man. The lover had kissed her gently, yet he had allowed her to cry, while her black hair rested on his chest.   

Thus was the despair of Sandhya, as she felt she could trust Orpheus with the sanctity of her heart, like the river trusted the distant ocean.

O sancte, e nobis tollatur sanctus amorque;

Discessisti, at non tristia me retinent.

Oro te, signis reseratis, triumphus sit tandem;

Te credens, ipsi mystica mortis patent.

Captivitas discedit, nova iam lux admonet orbem;

Non te decipio, dum te, mea vita, amo.

हे पवित्र, प्रणश्येत पवित्रः प्रणयोऽपि नः ।

यातस्त्वं तु न मां शोका बन्धनस्थां प्रकुर्वते ॥

द्वारामुक्तेऽद्य मार्गे ते, विजयोऽस्तु प्रसीद मे ।

त्वयि विश्‍वसतीं मृत्युरहस्यं प्रापयत्यसौ ॥

बन्धो गच्छति, भूलोकं नवं प्रबोधयेन्महः ।

न त्वां वञ्चयामि क्वापि, जीवने मयि रागिणि ॥

* Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI. 

Darkness and the Disguise of Light

[ Ego, Orpheus, cum amata mea esse volui. ]

She never knew that love could be so intense, so intricate! Sandhya was guided into introspection, perhaps by his music, or perhaps by her own desire to know the truth.

A dilemma as to what love is and how she is captivated by its sweet spell held her thoughts in a constant state of disbelief! On one hand, she had started to surrender to a primal attraction that Orpheus stood for. On the other hand, she was at a loss to understand how her love for her sons could put her into a place where her spells did not seem to work at all!

She could not believe either, for Sandhya had always trusted that in a Godless hell, it was upon her to exercise her authority unto the order of the realms. She viewed evil as a necessity, but was unsure if that could lead to consequences. All the while, deep in her blameless heart, she still felt protected by an unseen power, authorized by the perpetual darkness surrounding the moon.

Whereas, she knew she was one with the darkness, and she was the dusk, yet her feminine instincts perceived that she was incomplete without the infernal masculine. She had started to suspect that beneath his mask, it was Orpheus who was the man of her feverish dreams, a ghostly romance so intense that it occupied even the darkest corners of her soul.

Shanaya was observant in her own thoughtful demeanor. She might have envied her sister for, unlike her, she was not hidden from Orpheus, and she could feel them in dialogues, maybe even in person. She was not resentful toward their relationship, yet she wished that, even if for once, he would realize how intensely she followed him in the underworld. Also, she had to know if the curse of Vice could affect her own Queenship and take Orpheus away from her, who was the only man she had ever loved. She could not even bear to look upon the faces of other men, whom she regarded as mere slaves, prisoners who were dependent on evil until they perish.

Shanaya had understood that her sister was apprehensive of lightness, of the simplicity of the first moment of truth, when her light blossomed in the forbidden forest like an early morning flower. Even though she did not talk to Sandhya, she wished her to know that she wanted to come closer to Orpheus through her, by recognizing the bond that the two women had shared eternally.

Reflecting on this, she conspired with the swans of the lake of tears, who agreed to be her emissaries to the Dark Queen. This was how the swans flew to Sandhya’s castle at twilight and gifted a quiet ruby to her, a magic stone that carried Shanaya’s unspoken words.  

Est ritûs exempli maternum, et intervallum threnici cavati

Orbat me tantum, et sum tristis in aeternum

Si rubinus creatur ab animo, es sapiens in somno

Oblivione conflicti, pia sancta foras exi si ambis

Cygna poetica, lamentare mihi amorem.   

मातृ-आदर्श-अनुष्ठानम् इदं, शोकपूर्णं रिक्तं च अन्तरम्।
इदं मां भृशं वियुनक्ति, अहञ्च सर्वदा दुःखितोऽस्मि।
यदि आत्मना माणिक्यं सृज्यते, त्वं स्वापे प्राज्ञोऽसि।
विस्मृत्यभिभूत, हे पवित्रे साधिके, यदि भ्रमसि तर्हि बहिरागच्छ।
हे काव्यात्मिके हंसिनि, मम कृते मद्विषयकं प्रेम विलापय।

* Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI.

The Great Emptiness

[ Ego, Orpheus, omnibus qui in vitio erraverant fui mors.]

The ominous music of the flute slowly bestowed grievous spells in the underworld, like an ancient serpent eternally waiting in the hallows to assume the very form of all existence. Whether it was a hallucination was yet to be established, but she could sense that Orpheus was omnipresent in hell, although the diagram of death seemed only a distant aspect of his entire psyche.

Sandhya was beginning to understand that the poet whom she once ignored as a lost soul was the very essence of loss, an immense emptiness, yet yearning for love in the soul.   

This hypnotic immensity was perceived in every form of the masculine that shaped the structure of fear in hell, consisting of the mighty trees, the moonlight, and the endless spectacle of mortal remains that were consumed by the valley of dry bones.

It was as if the moon was the eye of this dragon, and its immeasurable corpus shaped the very darkness that pervaded everything. With a trembling heart, she could sense that even her multitude was rather small compared to the great evil that Orpheus embodied.  

However, she felt that Orpheus was not inconsiderate, and he understood the sad heart of Sandhya, the lament of the mother who was doomed to lose all her sons, with no resurrection in eternity. It was as if the distant, dark ocean had nothing to do with the drowning men, yet the evening breeze comforted the mother who was safe at the shore.

She intended to curse the sea, but when she stood at the shore, staring at the horizon, she could not imagine her curses altering the endless darkness. Instead, the moon whispered to the black river that it was only fate that the men brought upon themselves, and she must accept it. To her surprise, she could not blame him for being unfair in judgment, for the woman knew her children were once ocean-born, and it was the verdict of the father who called them back to the grave.

Thus was the emptiness that the woman felt when she knew in her heart that nothing was going to remain the same, except for the great love that has held her for all eternities and beyond. 

Amendat te ascribi cum perfidis, et infernus consecutus est

Beati, salve! Mihi anima sum omnium, et aliena tempora sunt

Et sarcophagi creati, tua mortis dialectica conscia insignis

Sancte Pater, salve, mi animus, laudandus es.

संसर्गं तव धूर्ते: संस्करोति, पातालं च पृष्ठतोऽन्वगात्।

कल्याणिनो नमोऽस्तु, मयि सर्वस्यात्मास्मि, विचित्राश्च प्रवृत्तयः॥

निर्मितानि च शवाधानानि, तव मृत्योः प्रबुद्धा विशिष्टा चान्वीक्षिकी।

हे परमगुरो नमोऽस्तु, हे मम चित्त, त्वं सर्वथा स्तुत्योऽसि॥

* Latin and Sanskrit written with the help of AI.

Once Hell Was Born of Divine Folly

[ Ego, Orpheus, lapsam ad paenitentiam duxi. ]

Sandhya had built her castle on seven pillars, and she had torn it down, at least in places where she had lost control. She inhabited the ruinous derelict made with her own fractured ego, yet she was not condemned by the poet for her rebelliousness.

Before her sons were imprisoned by Orpheus within the eighteen realms, her overflowing malice inhabited hell in a crisscross of anger and defiance, a situation that even put her at risk of losing everything to damnation. Vice felt she could never avoid an intense prejudice of guilt, of being unable to love him with all her heart, and of the folly of bringing forth the demons, thereby loving them, and forfeiting her control over them.  

Paradoxically, she had once thought that by empowering her men, she would be able to challenge the sovereignty of the forbidden forest, which directed its roots in eighteen groves within the valley of dry bones. Each wood was separated from the others by a deep chasm where only the hollow of hell could be perceived from a distance. These same men, her own sons, had tricked her into believing in them, so that she could be captured and put to trial for creating them.

She had encouraged her men to travel to the very ends of the underworld so that her control might be exercised in full, yet the flute of Orpheus had entombed them within these eighteen realms. Their mortal remains turning to dust, their souls swallowed by serpentine trees, insofar as each one of them had gone with her good wishes.

If judas was trapped within the first realm, the succubus men had gone so far as the eighteenth grove, and no further! The ones who were alive were surrounded by a cruel eternity, where even her blessings were negated by the imperial majesty.  

She could sense that Orpheus had become one with these infernal trees, and the chasms between them, unaffected by the stratagems she once pursued to deter him from his quest.

In all his trials, she could feel that he still loved her with a pure heart, despite how she had tried to kill him with everything she had. Vice could hear his somber music, willing her to come to repentance, something she had always denied as an unnecessary delusion.

Thus was the recollection of Vice, who once wished that love never existed.

Tandem lunaris mihi herbescit in orbem mysterio astantis

Non effugerunt terrorem, ergo se confundunt

Dum artantur nihil nisi infernum, se ipsi mortui

Tu, paradoxe deus, mihi me sanctifica, et repente.

अन्ततः मम समक्षं पार्श्वस्थस्य चान्द्री ऊर्जा रहस्यात्मकरूपेण पूर्णमण्डले प्ररोहति।

ते भीतिं न पलायन्तः, अतः पूर्णभ्रमे पतन्ति।

यावत् ते केवलं नरकेण रुद्धाः, तावत् ते स्वयमेव मृताः।

हे विरोधाभासमया देव, मम कृते माम् पवित्रीकुरु, तच्च सहसैव।

* Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI. 

The Reverie of Blackness

[ Ego, Orpheus, captivos ne morerentur musica mea servare non potui. ]

The evening conspired in hushed voices with the grave trees that inhabited the valley of dry bones. It was but in this hallowed terrain that the paradox of mortality assumed a haunted landscape, unto where all prisoners must discover their final call, broken in the realization that they have to disappear into the dark earth. The black river seemed to touch the soul in desolate darkness, Sandhya grieving for all the sons who were put to death by Orpheus.  

It was here, in this habitation of dusty skulls, that the poet sought his acquaintance with Grief, the woman who roamed amidst the bones, illumined solely by a candle held at a distance from her heart. None were allowed to survive in this cemetery of divine failure, for the sons who could not be saved by fate, fated as they were.

Shanaya was intent on painting a red Chrysanthemum on the forehead of a pale green skull that she found strewn amidst the stones, hoping that Orpheus would see it and think of her. She had asked the owls to carry the memento to him, wishing to share his sorrow for the fallen, who were once born of his relationship with Sandhya. She seemed to have inhabited this skull like a black snake, patiently waiting for Orpheus to come nearer.

The flute of Orpheus was taking strange serpentine turns that glistened on the snake’s body like silver jewelry on a dark woman. Orpheus had calmly allowed the revengeful cobra to coil around his poetic hands, lulled with a kiss on her forehead.

As he played his flute in unforeseen melancholy, he could hear the cry of Grief, lamenting the failure to save the sons, who once wandered into the forest in search of treasures of the underworld. The snake whispered, “Miseria, Miseria, Miseria”, as Shanaya could feel a silent teardrop touching her lips, reminding her of a kiss that was yet to be given.  

Thus was the distant sorrow of the black river, fated to follow Orpheus, yet denying him in a tearful reverie.

Omnibus ipse pallet deus, dum mortis lamenta mihi scribis

Aether tremit oblivione, dum musica tam tristis sanguineis cordibus torquet

Sanctus miseros erudit, de mortis venustate

O captivi, vos colligite, mementote mori.

देवोऽपि पाण्डुतां याति त्वयि मृत्युविलापकान् मयि लिखति।

कम्पते शून्यतयाऽऽकाशः, खिन्नं सङ्गीतं रक्तमयेभ्यो हृदयेभ्यः क्लेशं ददाति॥

साधुर्दीनान् शिक्षयति, मृत्योः सौन्दर्यविषये।

भो बन्दिनः, यूयं सङ्गच्छध्वं, स्मरत यन्मरणं निश्चितम्॥

* Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI.