jansatta ravivari column by ashwani bhatnagar on chhutake ke saath – archer: with chutki

Ashwini Bhatnagar

Chutki is eager to bloom. I, like my mind, keep it tied. I am tied to my fear and poor girl is tied to me. I am scared of freedom of mind. Chutki is nonchalant. Chutki is very dear to me. I spend a lot of time with him. Especially his time of solitude and silence. She knows it all and that is why my sense of mind and mind gets absorbed in it in a moment. She does not ask any questions nor express her mind. The bus gets organic, naturally involved in my flow. I like this feeling very much. When I am in a thought, I start loving it. I do not know why deep thinking makes me caress him and I start to put his hand on his head. She comes to the dock more narrowly and just raises her head and communicates silence with my eyes. Whenever the sequence of thought breaks for a few moments, I smile in my eyes looking at him. A moment's smile is enough for her – she understands that we are saying that the little girl, what should we tell you now, in which situation are we? Shall we say and what will you do by listening? Every man has to solve his own confusion. What can someone help him with?

But Chutki helps in its own way every time. Remaining silent, with silent understanding. He is well aware that there is no permanent solution to any confusion. She understands that humans can find short-term improvisation, but cannot control their circumstances like a Mahavat. The first man is the mother of the second man, and this process continues till the end. It is the blood seed that generates a new demon in the human psyche every moment and all his life passes through a virtual war with innumerable demons. But there is nothing virtual in Chutki's life. Everything is real. So she neither argues nor goes to philosophy. For him, the intimacy of touch is universal. Touch is everything and its experience is a sense of detailed conversation in itself. Every touch of Chutki evokes a unique feeling in me.

Chutki and my vagina are different. It is said that human beings get vagina only after crossing millions of vagaries. I am a human vagina. The small dog is in the vagina. I have discretion. It is said that animals are indiscriminate. Conscience is the most important distinction between man and animal. Therefore mankind is superior to animal race. I have a sense of conscience and I am often caught in a mess. Chutki is irrational. His goodwill, his dedication, deep love and innate understanding often overwhelm my conscience and lead me to the sensation in which I am overwhelmed by the touch of bliss of that moment just by the burden of thinking. The feeling of experience on the conscience makes me suddenly succulent. Thinking melts and awakens the fluidity of 'being'.

Whenever Chutki sees me staring, sliding slowly and closer and then more, she keeps her silent sensations attached to me and avoids wandering in the air of conclusions. She sniffes and finds a way, while I am trapped in the tree of thought. We do not smell and perhaps that is why we always have confusion about direction and condition. Our mind and tongue is more moving and not instinctive. Through them we have made ourselves helpless.

It is not that Chutki is any specific animal. I had a lad before that. I had put too much intelligence on her health and that famine had become the gras of time. Was very sorry. Lado's lack was felt, but he did not dare for long enough to have the idea of ​​bringing the second daughter home. But one day the thought of Lado rose from the mind and dominated the mind. Chutki came home. He sat on our lap and made the feelings green again. Lado's thinking was over. His experience was resurrected.

Say Chutki or Lado, it is the same. We go for a walk in the evening every day. Shortly before the sun sets, Chutki wakes up from his afternoon sleep and stands in front of me with his belt. If I stop, then I start urging me to hit my paw repeatedly. As soon as I wake up, it hurts on him. Eating with strength, she sometimes runs ahead of me, sometimes suddenly turns and hugs me. If I stop, she turns around and barks in a loud voice. That voice is of complaint – Why stop? Come, run with me! His evening's arouse also arouses excitement in my mind. His pulling his belt is the same as sometimes my mind starts to draw its boundaries. Masti does not want a bond. Shokhi blooms only uncontrollably. Chutki is eager to bloom. I, like my mind, keep it tied. I am tied to my fear and poor girl is tied to me. I am scared of freedom of mind. Chutki is nonchalant. He trusts his own instinct. I do not trust my instinct. I am a sensible man, so I avoid taking cognizance of my inner feelings. Artificial indulgence and luxury is my goal. Everything is there, it's not just fun. In the evening air, there is no feeling of walking in the evening.

I am not happy. Chukki is happy. We are both together, because the relationship he has with me fulfills this lack of me. Chutki considers human bankruptcy a birth. She is offering her sacrifice for the attainment of my complementarity. Tied to a leash, but each time I open another slam with impassive intimacy. His eagerness to make me man-to-man does not let my apathy dominate me. She is truly my best friend.

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