The Fire Within Me

The Fire Within Me

I caught her arm, pulled her to myself and loosened the fastening of her hair. I watched closely as it rolled down her shoulders. Encircling her in my arms, I pulled her to myself and kissed her lips. Her lips provided the most comfortable cushion to absorb the ecstasy flowing through my body  in her presence. I wanted the ecstasy to be with me forever and a day, but the moment was ephemeral as she was bent on leaving.

I didn’t want to let go of her arm. I didn’t want the moment to fade into oblivion. I was dripping in ecstasy while she was with me, and it was to give way to a weird loneliness when she left. I felt like someone who remains thirsty even after he has been drenched in heavy rain.

There was a cocktail of emotions being prepared in my heart at that moment. They ignited a fire within me that couldn’t be tackled by all the fire-brigades in the world. The worst part of it is that it shall burn throughout my life courtesy the bulk of emotions in my heart: it is reignited after every cycle of dawn and dusk.

There seems to be no dearth of emotions in my heart to fuel the fire. The fire has been ruffled and fluttered regularly through the course of time depending on  the direction of winds. The important point is that it has maintained an average luminosity over the years. It has been able to penetrate many dark corners of my heart, it has been enough to make me quite uncomfortable, but it has also revealed several new and different dimensions of love and companionship.

Fire can be man’s best friend, while it can also destroy our very being   unless it is kept under control. I can certainly survive through a lifetime with the fire burning within me, but it must be brought down for a healthy sustenance. But I’m not the only one who has the fire burning in his heart. It is only that time and destiny effectively tackle the fire with the most competent extinguishers in the normal case. My case has been a bit different. I’ve been pushed in the company of red embers rather than extinguishers.

They have only added to the uncomfortable feeling dominant within me. I tried to douse the fire by myself, but I burnt myself in the attempts: only a professional fire-fighter can do it. Moreover, the fire burning within me requires an extinguisher of a special sort. At least the person operating the extinguisher used to douse the fire within me should be a bit different from the one operating other extinguishers. I certainly lag behind my peers in several ways, and the fact warrants an operator with special skills.

I wonder if the lady I’d just kissed has the potential to be the ideal operator of the fire-extinguisher that can bring down the fire within me. Perhaps she has the key to all the extinguishers required to douse the fire. What do you say?