Special Edition: Ritu Kamra Kumar

Ritu Kamra Kumar

Whirlpool of the Watchful Within

In the cosmic canvas of conscience,

a cataract of stars swirls—

the pupil of eternity, unblinking.

Forget the guards, the street cameras,

the sterile sentinels of law and light;

for deeper within, a divine detective dwells.

It watches when you wander astray,

its iris shimmering with silent verdicts,

its lashes woven from your latent fears.

Each sin sends a ripple—

each thought, a tide.

You cannot outswim your own seeing.

Dimmesdale too heard its dreadful drumbeat—

the heart’s own lash of luminous guilt.

A whisper in the whirlpool warns,

“Beware, before you drown in your deceit.”

This eye does not close with sleep;

it dreams your darkness awake,

it drips gold and guilt in equal measure.

Like Conrad’s Kurtz, you will one day gasp—

“Horror, Horror!”—

and see yourself mirrored in that abyss.

The inner cosmos contracts,

galaxies of remorse revolve.

Your heart becomes a haunted observatory.

So, listen—

before regret becomes your relentless reflection,

before conscience becomes your captive tide.

For the eye inside is ancient and awake,

the ever-watching whirlpool

of the watchful within.

Footnote: Dimmesdale in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter and Kurtz in Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness embody the torment of hidden guilt and moral self-surveillance—the haunting gaze of one’s own conscience.

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Setu, October 2025