This week, I thought I'd do some extra reading to pick up some bonus points, and I ended up choosing The Fugitive by Rabindranath Tagore.
The first thing that strikes me about it, fittingly, is the very first line: "Darkly you sweep on, Eternal Fugitive..." It's so evocative, and let's be real: a story about any kind of eternal fugitive is my kind of story.
There's also this line: "...the storm centered with your dancing limbs shakes the sacred shower of death over life and freshens her growth." It's interesting to think of death as a process that needs to happen for a new batch of life to grow; it makes the Reaper less of a boss, and more of a handyman.
Plus: "We came hither together, friend, and now at the cross-roads I stop to bid you farewell. Your path is wide and straight before you, but my call comes up by ways from the unknown." I like the idea of two old friends or a longtime couple parting ways because of the paths they see for themselves in life: the protagonist feels like the world is his and he's got all the choices he wants, but his significant other feels like she has to follow the path that's been set out for her, either by her family history or legacy or a curse/something more personalized.
I also really just like the style of this in general: The MC is addressing everything to this mysterious You, who seems like a significant figure in his life, but also possibly one that's constantly shifting, cycling through. Each separate thought, some interesting hybrid between a poem and a micro-fiction story, is separated by a different number, but they're all tied together by the speaker and the way he's talking to that You.
This was another gem, on so many levels: "Do not stand before my window with those hungry eyes and beg for my secret. It is but a tiny stone of glistening pain streaked with blood-red by passion. What gifts have you brought with both hands to fling before me in the dust? I fear, if I accept, to create a debt that can never be paid even by the loss of all that I have."
"This morning, separation from those whom I was born too late to meet weighs on and saddens my heart."
And this one: "Be not concerned about her heart, my heart; leave it in the dark." It makes me think of someone who's done his best to turn his back on someone he used to care about, someone he's tried to convince himself to leave behind because she's too dark-hearted. He tells his companion not to worry about her or fall for her tricks, not to feel bad for her, because she doesn't want it or deserve it anyways.
"You have shattered my freedom, and with its wreck built your own prison." Dang. That's good stuff.
"For a moment bear with me if I forget myself." But interpreted literally.
The character, described by his own actions here, is really intriguing: "I forget if you ever shamed me by looking away when I bared my heart. I only remember the words that stranded on the tremor of your lips; I remember in your dark eyes sweeping shadows of passion, like the wings of a home-seeking bird in the dusk. I forget that you do not remember, and I come." For some reason, the dysfunctional nature of their on/off-again relationship also kind of reminds me of Joel and Clementine from Eternal Sunshine.
Then there's this line from the exchange between Kacha and the Titan's daughter, Devayani: "Thrice had the jealous Titans slain me, and thrice you prevailed on your father to bring me back to life; therefore my gratitude can never die."
And since I'm gathering too many different story seeds and this post is starting to get unwieldy, I think I'll add one more thing, then save the rest for a different notes post: I really loved the dynamic between the protagonist and his Mind.
"Why these preparations without end?"--I said to Mind--"Is some one to come?"
Mind replied, "I am enormously busy gathering things and building towers. I have no time to answer such questions."
Meekly I went back to my work.
When things were grown to a pile, when seven wings of his palace were complete, I said to Mind, "Is it not enough?"
Mind began to say, "Not enough to contain--" and then stopped.
"Contain what?" I asked.
Mind affected not to hear.
and
"It is close at hand," said the mad man.
I went to the office and boldly said to Mind, "Stop all work!"
Mind asked, "Have you any news?"
"Yes," I answered, "News of the Coming." But I could not explain.
Mind shook his head and said, "There are neither banners nor pageantry!"
Bibliography: The Fugitive by Rabindranath Tagore. Source: Freebookapalooza.
Image Credit: Underwater Swimming by Unsplash. Source: Pixabay.
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