The Castle of Disillusionment

It was true. The vale of Dale hadn’t changed. It was far more awe-inspiring and capturing then I had imagined it to be. Over all these years, from the times of the Greeks, to the Romans, Turks and now this confused society, it had all remained unaltered. I knew my plight well. Had considered it all too well in my head. Pulled by the majestic power of instinct, intuition and ambition, I approached the colossal castle. I had surely over estimated myself – sure, it couldn’t purge me but the temptation it represented was obviously out of this world for mortals. Just the aroma of the locale was blissful – anand, they called it. It was enough to capture and hold the greatest of rishis and kashatriyas from their quests of gyan and vijay. I hadn’t even noticed the castle for a while, the REAL reason why I was here. I knew better then to approach the moat and draw into Medusa’s age-long argument – unending, unchanging, unconvincing. But I couldn’t stop the urge of curiosity fuelled by hunger of understanding and ultimate comprehension – I drew my sabre! Forward, swiff, block, cut, knock, dash, dig, swivel, stir, cut, throw, log, turf, back step, DRIVE!!! Ahhhh… gasping, I just stood tired. My clothes shredded, lying at my feet. Nothing around me had resounded in reaction or even stir, for that matter. I had JUST made a fool of myself before my own eyes, out of anyone else’s sight, and OFFCOURSE, exhausted myself.

I lay down. Then sat up. I now faced the impeccable façade of the castle. I calmed myself. Gathered all the temperance, fortitude and prudence I could bring out of the depth of the spirit. I now began to take in the surreal surroundings and make a linkage of it in the grand plan of the Ultimate Creator – the Ultimate Show master, The Ultimate Conman. I recognized the skeleton across the lush green field almost instantly. IT WAS PERSEUS! He had died waiting. His silent remains looked impressionably calm. Patient for an end of his ardent adoration which he was so sure of. Was probably wrong there. It just struck me there – Perseus was now part of the surroundings. His content corpse was an addition to the entire program of projection. He was an integral part of the world outside the castle – of the waiting, the awaiting and the awaited. Content with the outside of the castle, forever appreciatively awaiting the manifestation of the inside – as if he already knew that the inside was a utopia and not a nightmare come true. Even in death, Perseus acted as a reassurance for the gazers and admirers and surprisingly, not nearly admonishing. He just caused the walls of the castle to go higher.

Now I saw the whole picture. I utterly and out rightly, refused to play along. I will not allow myself to be cuddled with cheese, milk and mud, to be used to strengthen the walls of deception and of secrets unknown – yet admired. So what was I to do? I really do know what fortresses are for. Attock was for STOPING. York for declaring the English grandeur upon the immaculate Highlanders. But what was the essential purpose of existence behind this castle. I refused to believe that this castle existed because of these external wonders – surely they were here with the castle and all of its unending and unreasonable appreciation (unreasonable because the object of appreciation itself is concealed behind those walls). I knew some things about cracking forts myself. I was one myself. Abashing and maliciously veiled from the outside, a cosmic juncture of unbound secrets inside. Castles, as I have come to know – and history tells us too – crack like walnuts. The external façade smashes and a bizarre and unperceivable inside emerges. It has no resolute connection with the external but yet contained within it and therefore, based upon the external conception, the inside is priorly unpredictable.

I decided to approach and unlock the hidden secrets once and for all. The only aspect beholding me from doing so was the definite uncertainty of the secrets inside – and I couldn’t expect it to periphery the island of utopia like everyone else – and I also realized that with the revelation of inner secrets, the cracking and destruction of the beautiful exterior would also be credited to me by the hedonists and objectivists out there, who, unlike me, were content with believing in just what they saw and nothing beyond.

Still, I approached the castle with the same vigorous ambition of the truth that had brought me SO far. I approached the moat, and as per folklore, set eyes on Medusa’s ever living, emerging head. “Freeze”, she said. “Submit yourself in awe O bare one and approach not beyond your grasp, for you shall not be allowed to transgress your mortal limits.” “Medusa!” I replied, “I have ragged my attire before. My body is yours to discard but I only speak for my soul when I say that I am as immortal as your own deceptive means.” I didn’t stop at the moat; I understood the beguiling of the deceptive creation and walked on it, as though it never existed. But Medusa was too angry by now, “Stop you fool! Tread you dare beyond this line and you shall have it.” “Have what Medusa”, I asked. She continued, “Don’t invoke the dreary dread of the forces of Valkyrines that guard this very sanctuary. Don’t peep beyond your sight. You shall cry for death like a baby for its mother. The mighty Titans and Lucifer himself shall have pity on you.” I could imagine and make out the effect of all this on a mortal, but replied calmly, unravaged, “Shut up, Medusa.” Her green face turned greener, yellowier and suddenly blue. She just realized that I carried the most powerful weapon conceivable. THE TRUTH. An obvious glare of rouge appeared around her cheeks. MEDUSA WAS PANICING!!! Her sudden embarrassment and peculiarity was obviously unmistakable from her looks – appearances DON’T always deceive. I continued towards the walls and held my hand out towards the wall and touched it with my hand. It went right through! No army of Valkyrines, no wrath of God-knows-what-else. No nothing. MEDUSA STARTED WEEPING and sobbing like a new-born. I took my hand back. I had understood the purpose of existence just now. The reason this castle was here. The reason why Medusa was here. The reason why there were so many to adore its outside WITHOUT knowing what’s on the inside. THE RESON WHY THERE WAS A DIFFERENT INSIDE AND OUTSIDE and the iron curtain in between. I no longer needed to know whether the inside was good or bad, perfect or manly, earthly or utopian, for I held the ultimate truth. I turned back and addressed the bobbing head, “Don’t worry Medusa, my quest is accomplished here. Your secret is safe with me for eternity and beyond. Proceed with your little game. Nevertheless, I truly do not know what lies inside, so I can’t be expected to convey this explanation to others.” I continued my journey on my way back home. Medusa finally getting hold of herself. Ashamed. Bewildered. Inspired. Awed.

Recognition:
- My friend S.I.K. served as a living inspiration for this writing.
- Based on a scene born in the beautiful mind of FUH (without hyphens).


R.A.F. الپیال
राना अमार फारूक
Sunday, 14th August 2005 C.E.
Islamabad.