Ananga

It’s such a strange feeling, being everywhere and nowhere at once. I can see the forest, hear the rain drop off the leaves, and feel the musty breeze. And yet the desert sand stretches out beneath my feet, the merciless sun beats down on my head, and the skittering of ants and cries of jackals ring in my ears.

And yet the snow-capped mountains.

And yet the jet-black sea.

And yet the cacophonous city.

And yet.

And yet.

And yet.

I can't see anything, not really. I can't hear anything, I can't feel anything. I just... know. I know the entire world, to the finest detail, as if I were right next to each and every thing within it.

And yet not one of those things knows me. Nothing can see me, or hear me, or feel me. Because I'm not there. In the truest sense, I'm not there. I can see everything that exists, after all. So if I can't see myself... just what am I?

Ananga. Literally "without a body". One of the names of the Hindu god Kama who was burned to ash by Shiva. The omnipresent god who exists throughout the universe. Me.

And. Yet.

I am not Kama. I can't be him. Just as Ananga means "without a body", Kama means "love". And so... I can't be Kama. That thing... does not exist here, within me.

So, truly, just what am I? What is an Ananga who isn't Kama? It's such a nonsensical thing...

And yet.

If Kama became Ananga after Shiva burned him to ash... just 'who' was burned to ash to become me? I... can't remember. I don't want to remember. I'm not them anymore. I'll never be them again. I'll never be them again.

Ananga. That is who I am. Who I have always been. Who I will always be.

Shiva...

Thank you.

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