Recently I have been dreaming about snakes. Snakes that move from side to side, their skin bold and designed. God’s creation, beautiful but dangerous and poisionous. If anything, frightening and silky. I saw a black snake, then I saw a green one. Why do I dream of snakes? Have you ever dreamt of snakes? My mother tells me, snakes represent birth of a newborn baby in the family or an encounter with an enemy. This all depended on the colour of the snake. In my dream I see a well, and in that well I see a large snake spiralling the stairs – as if dying of thirst, the snake drinks the water in the well. Its just like that. The snake drinks and drinks, my vision become blurred. I almost forget that I am dreaming and look deeper into the well. The snake stops, and looks up at me. Now imagine what could of happened. Either the snake would jump up and swallow my entire face to body or go back to drinking the water. But no. The snake stares right into my eyes and watches me from below the well. The water glistens and turns into gold. The snake looks now at the gold and slithers on top, creating a circle like shape. Then the snake dissolves into the gold. Suddenly the gold reforms into a chain. I go down the well and pick up the chain, I look at it before putting it around my neck. I tied the chain around my neck and looked up proudly. I was now wearing a gold chain on my neck. But before I could enjoy the moment, the chain starts to strangle me, it strangles me so hard I loose my breath. I look at my neck and it is no more a chain, but the snake. I was fooled, I was fooled by its appearance. Now I was dying my own death, because I thought it was safe to wear something around my neck that was previously dangerous.
We humans don’t see it. But my moral – People don’t change. No matter how hard they try, deep down – they are who they are.
Heera – This name melts in my mouth, but sharply. This name reminds me of triangles in shapes, red in colour, mars in universe and music. Interesting isn’t it? Simply mysterious, as if she’s searching for something deep in the ocean whilst watching the moon glisten tenderly on the waves. Divine. As I researched, Heera is originated from India and it means diamond some spell it as Hira – which means greek goddess of love, whilst in Islam it is the cave in which Prophet Mohammed first received his Quran. The cave is 2.3km from the Mecca on the mountain named Jabal Al Nur. Beautiful Isn’t it? One name, with many reasons behind.
I want to etch and carve the mark of Heera here. I am Heera.
(Rajasthani Paintings & Murals)
Heera. You can call me Heera or Heer, I don’t mind. Because that is not my real name, however I wish Heera was my name. I am hiding my identity, because I would like you to find me in the words I write and deliver, I don’t wish to be a visual interest. You will embark on a mystical journey with me, in the name of Heera. Heera, which is the person I bound to be, will perhaps – somewhat look like the lady below.
I have always wanted to be mystical. I was kindly inspired by a book that I started reading recently (hence the title of my blog – Sweet Blasphemy) to become more spiritual. To understand the divinity of love, art and God. Perhaps I am dwelling too much of the past, the history that maybe did or did not exist. But by writing the words I do today, I feel a sense of relief. I feel like I was destined to write what my mind thought and felt was justice to my heart. Again, nevertheless I am just enlightened to invite you all to my world, my world that is filled with words that distance itself from words, but become visually blurred and perhaps poetically confusing.
I chose to insert the photo of the Rajasthani ladies at the top, simply because I believe their eyes spoke. It didn’t have to be a mona Lisa painting, it just had to be a mural from the history. History speaks without speaking. Hopefully my words will speak, without speaking too.