Shrine Flush

Castles in the air. Someone looks up and Urvashi is dropped for the sage doing tapsaya from the castles in the air. The sage opens his eyes, Urvashi wears a perfume, roses, jasmine and all the good things, a mishti doi galaxy flows from Urvashi's consciousness to the sage's. A love like honey, thick, viscous, and unlike honey vicious. Bajirao has been having a hard time with his mastani. Megalomania has no cure and the sage ever since the honey pot left him dejected, has been trying to save scorpions but that's the deal about sages and scorpions, the sage will try to save scorpions and the scorpions would sting him, everyone is a slave of their nature. One realises that there was never a Bajirao, because if he was there wouldn't have been castles in the air and they wouldn't be dropping femme fatales for noir detectives who play by own rules after getting disillusioned by the laws and rules of the world. A cynical detective who plays by his own rules still plays by the law and rules of the world and it is because cynicism is a disappointed idealism and everyone is a slave of their nature. What is the difference between a whore and a shrine? Both are pimped for a moment or two of peace, that's the similarity, there is no difference; both smell good. What if your village is ravaged and razed to the ground, what would you do? Would you plan on taking a revenge? Or would you cultivate your own garden knowing that it's time too is coming. Bottle gourds from your garden, ladies finger, brinjal, lemon and all the other things taste great and you have a timer in your heart knowing the soon your kitchen garden too would be razed to the ground just like your village was. You meet a rape victim and tell her "God does everything for a reason". That's more than enough of a consolation. In an ancient civilization that's enough compassion. You see a landfill and the vultures over it. Wrong. The vultures are extinct and Zarathushtra is sad. Those are something else, eagles, kites, crows, something else. The cynical noir detective would say that the world is a landfill and we are the garbage as the predators circles over us in the sky. From where? Castles in the air.