She knocked on my door and I opened the door.
I was struck by her beauty, the radiance of her face, her long flowing hair. She came in, and we sat down.
“I hear you are an intelligent man”, she said, “Why not tell me a bit about the places you’ve been, the things you’ve seen – the worlds you’ve visited with your mind?”
Saying this, she ran her fingers through her hair, her poise all attention, her entire focus on me.
That was all quite enough for me to start talking. And we talked for a long, long time.
It started from topics about friends and family, about acquaintances near and far, but as the night wore on, the subjects became more and more diverse, even arcane.
Economics, politics, history – nothing it seemed was out of bounds. We even talked about religion for a long time.
I was confident about the accuracy of every one of my statements and opinions. Her bright attentive eyes followed my every movement. She was the very picture of attention, seeming to hold on to my every word. I, obviously flattered, and in search for just such an audience, went on.
Being the possessor of an intelligence every bit as sharp as her beauty, she not only hung on to every word spoken, but even interjected with her opinions from time to time, raising excellent questions from time to time.
To me, obviously, it was all encouragement to keep talking.
But wait – what was that? A hint of disinterest? Possibly – even a sliver of boredom?
For sure, that cannot be allowed! I had to hold her interest. I decided to launch into even more arcane subjects, religious controversies, even speculative science. As before, I found an attentive listener, a sharp mind, excellent questions.
She seemed capable of following me on each point, of disputing my every claim, of holding my attention at every breath.
At last, exhausted, I fell silent.
“What do you want from me, O lady?”, I said. “I have poured out the entire sum of my knowledge and intelligence. The subjects that enthrall me, I have shared with you. All the wonders I have come across in my study, I have placed at your feet. And yet you remain, silent and smiling as before.”
“I have tried and I have failed to touch your soul. I see that now. My words and my knowledge I have used as the knight’s lance. I have stabbed and I have poked. But it is obvious that I have missed the mark entirely! This has been akin to sodomy, the pleasure, if any, all mine, and you have been playing along. I see that now…”
“Tell me, O Goddess, of what you wish to hear?”
At that moment, she smiled. Her lips quivered, but when she spoke, her voice was clear and firm.
“Dear friend”, she began, “I do not doubt for an instant your knowledge, nor even your opinions on the most divisive subjects. It is for certain that you visited many places, encountered many marvels in your studies, known of wonders few even know exist.”
“But, tell me, friend, what you know of me, the woman, who stands here before you? With your deep and extensive knowledge, proceed now to tell me of the heart of a woman, her deepest desires, and her secrets. Tell me, indeed, about myself.”
I fell silent, but could not help but recall a quote from Tagore,
“A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.”
“Tell me indeed, my friend, why I knocked on your door, and why I stand here before you!”, she concluded.
At that moment, I noticed my hand was bleeding.
With no clue about how to respond, I accepted defeat.
“Enlighten me, my Goddess!”