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Worship


Fiction

Nebamun was determined and nothing could deter him now.  Now was his opportunity.  Antony had gone back to Rome being summoned by Caesar.  Cleopatra would be alone.  Nebamun could offer her his heart.  Offer his heart to the goddess of love whom age cannot wither or custom cannot stale – that was how one of Antony’s commanders described her the other day. 

Let her trample upon his heart if she so chooses.  Nebamun was the devotee and Cleopatra was the goddess.  The goddess can choose what to do with the devotee and it is the bounden duty of the devotee to obey, to make whatever sacrifice the goddess demands.

He stood outside Cleopatra’s royal chamber waiting until she came out.

“Your Majesty,” Nebamun drew Cleopatra’s attention when she was about to pass him by as if he never existed.  Queens don’t pay attention to ordinary soldiers even if they stand in places where they are not expected.

“Yes,” said Cleopatra staring at him.  “What do you want?  Why are you standing here outside my chamber?”

“I wish to speak to you alone,” said Nebamun.

“What about?”

“My heart’s deepest desire.  A devotee’s most fervent prayer.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are my goddess, Your Majesty.  I am your devotee standing before you with a supplication.  Be merciful enough to grand my wish.”

Cleopatra stared into his eyes before ordering her maids to leave them alone.

“What is your wish?”

“I have been worshipping you with my whole heart and soul.  Please grant my wish to worship you with my body.”

Cleopatra was too stunned to decide whether to flare up or laugh out.

“How dare you?  This is intolerable audacity!”

“You call it audacity, Your Majesty, but I call it worship.  I’m your devotee; you’re my goddess.”

Their eyes met again.  Determination and devotion were overflowing in Nebamun’s gaze.  His body language was a queer mixture of those of a soldier’s and devotee’s.  A unique combination.  A rare lover.  Cleopatra’s eyes began to sparkle with mischief.

“I will grant your wish,” she said to Nebamun whose heart skipped a beat.  “But on a condition.”

What do conditions matter to a devotee?  Nebamun waited eagerly.

“You won’t live to see the next morning.”

What does the next morning matter to a devotee? 

Cleopatra’s chamber opened itself to Nebamun that night.


There was a strange shade of crimson in the sky when the sun rose the next morning from the Red Sea.  The executioner reported that Nebamun died without an iota of regret.  “Rather,” said the executioner, “I have never met a man who seemed more contented than that.”
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Comments

  1. Ravish ManiSeptember 20, 2014 at 9:45 AM

    Wonderful, Matheikal! Why to come back after unison with Goddess to live a miserable life thereafter!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Tomichan MatheikalSeptember 20, 2014 at 10:43 AM

      "Having conquered certain heights you wouldn't wish to come down..." as Richard Bach said.

      Delete
  2. AnonymousSeptember 20, 2014 at 12:02 PM

    I enjoyed reading this piece

    ReplyDelete
  3. Abhijit RaySeptember 20, 2014 at 9:37 PM

    What is death if you are granted your the wish you live for. Nice story.

    ReplyDelete
  4. ManiparnaSeptember 21, 2014 at 1:30 AM

    Devotion..in the truest form....it's like accomplishing " Nirvana" ..after which death doesn't matter...

    ReplyDelete
  5. MeenalSonalSeptember 21, 2014 at 2:15 PM

    Heart with content feeling is what all look for.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Tomichan MatheikalSeptember 22, 2014 at 7:21 AM

      Yes, in the end that sense of fulfilment is all that matters.

      Delete
  6. Roohi BhatnagarSeptember 21, 2014 at 5:44 PM

    Hmm.. Passion can really blind its follower.. Some passions are worth dying for but some I doubt..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Tomichan MatheikalSeptember 22, 2014 at 7:22 AM

      You are right. But it's the individual's choice, in the end. Some individuals become tragic heroes in stories because of their choice.

      Delete

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