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Burning, turning whatever it touches to ashes, cindering, blazing..raw molten lava. Always thought it was found in the deep recesses of planet earth, a geographical phenomena. I was wrong, so wrong. This molten river of fire can burn within the depths of a human too, it can run through a human form, burning the mind, the smoke tearing the eyes, turning the heart to ashes and an existence to cinders... It can be a psychological phenomena, a disease too.
He is on fire, ablaze with pain and the grief of abandonment. The child in him still struggles to understand the whats and whys of his life. From what we can glean, he was his mother's universe, she doted on him, adored him, he didn't even eat by himself, Rudra was that much of his mother's darling. He worshipped her, and for every young child a mother is indeed special. The foundation, and then one day, this very foundation was ripped from his life. The love shared between him and his mother, the bond, became a joke. An object of public and even familial ridicule. His mother, and his love and loyalty for her, turned overnight into a public spectacle. Jeers and taunts filled his ears, eyes laughing at him, fingers pointing, tongues wagging...an emotional nightmare. The shame, betrayal and humiliation tainting him for life.
He couldn't cope then, and he can't cope now. He might have put up a barrier, a thin flimsy barrier of toughness, indifference, an aggressive armor of callousness. An outward sham of rudeness, but his near ones can see through it. Especially sharp ones like Mohini. And the way she rips off his barely there bandages, and rubs salt into his wounds, making sure they bleed to profusion and he feels the pain...has him writhing in never forgotten agony. Rudra is soo raw underneath. So damaged, so unhealed ...and the pleasure she gets out of torturing him...is sadistic to the core. She kicks him repeatedly where it hurts the most. And our strong man is helpless.
Her taunts hit home, and the volcano erupts. His control snaps, and the turmoil spills out. The barely held grief gushes out and a lost motherless child weeps at the destruction, unable to control or absorb the devastation. Just leave the child alone with his pain, let him cry, let him lament the loss of his mother and childhood...just let him be. Never knew when lava flows from a human frame it can take the form of tears. The body of a man and the tears of a child!!
This molten fire of hurt and betrayal flows and has been flowing within for years. Sometimes dormant, sometimes erupting in short bursts, but none have a clue how it feels when you have raw fire course through your veins instead of blood. It sears, burns, destroys till all that's left is a blackened barren vacuum. Unbearable for any man you think??...Ask Rudra!!
