The Queen's Play by Aashish Kaul

Author:Aashish Kaul [Kaul, Aashish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-78279-862-0
Publisher: John Hunt Publishing
Published: 2015-02-26T16:00:00+00:00

XII

NIGHT AND day the coitus continues. The bodies coil and uncoil, merge and detach in such a variety of forms that you wonder if they are one, two, or many, forever delaying the moment of climax like in a long, digressive novel. But if the climax is not delayed then the pleasure is not prolonged, desire perishes in a fleeting if charming release. Pleasure needs time just as time needs pleasure to fuse and explode into emptiness, thus freed from each other’s bondage, they leave no residue, active or dead matter.

But let us return to the conjugal scene, where there is no desire, or rather into which desire has not yet made its appearance or where it exists but is not felt. Strange as it may seem, the concupiscence which is commonly the supreme driver of bodily pleasure is totally absent from this carnal rite, if carnal at all it is and not ethereal, for as we well know appearances are often deceptive.

King and queen, husband and wife, the yogin and his consort, the goddess Tara, Śiva as Bhairava, the Fearful Lord, and Śakti as Bhairavi, the Fearful Goddess, each form collapsing into the next as impressions passing and breaking over the lake of flesh. The many- limbed, many-gestured, interminable tantric dance.

The man firm like a rock or a mountain or a tree, unwavering, unexcitable, a mind empty of all desire, the woman serene, pliant, munificent, committed to give and receive without distrust, the two enacting, in the very image of a vine clasping a tree, the Śiva Lata Mudra.

Here the wish for pleasure does not lead to forgetfulness, to lose oneself in the aspect of the other, but instead to fierce control and concentration, an intense self-identification with the life-force surging within. For three, five, eight hours, the couple sit face to face in the royal bed, without a shred of clothing, without the least excitation, until each has achieved complete one-pointedness of mind, at which time there is felt at the base of the spine, as if just born, a granule of heat. They have no consciousness of time, no vision of day or night, neither hunger nor thirst.

Next, the king moves the queen onto his left thigh, eyes locked into each other, sexes close but not touching, they sit in perfect equanimity for several hours.

Still on his lap, the queen is now facing forward, their figures erect, his left arm curving behind her back to gently cup the left breast, while her right arm drapes into his lap, hand lightly entwining the erection. Already it is night, the flames dim, moonshine filling the room, stars few but hard and glittering like diamonds. By the time they finally join, dusk is again falling, but the very act of coitus is far from begun. It is yet another pose, yet another level of descent, and the seed the king has held within him for all those years and months of roving through the harsh, cold, rim of the earth will spurt not yet.

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