The Spider Mall

"As a spider projects forth and draws back (its threads) , as plants grow on earth, as hairs grow on the body, so does the universe emerge from the Imperishable Being."(Mundaka Upanishad 1.1.7) The monstrous mall like a spider stood spanning its eight legs to different sides. I sat in the concourse, its nuclear head, at the foot of a gigantic fount, that gushed forth not knowing rest. Lonely in the maddening crowd that surged up and down the weaver's legs. Most were young, some middle-aged, others senile, many handicapped, some drove wheelchairs with looks distant, then there were scampering, noisy tots, babies on strollers, milk bottles in their hold, all of them with unending wants. The young and those in teens, male and female holding hands in utter bliss, some in hugs, arms around waists of each other, eyes issuing joyous beams, moved up and down like in a dream. The aged ones with serious face, some with cadaverous looks, greedy after material needs, perhaps worried they may cease soon lest they fulfilled their wish. Where did all of them originate and where they vanished at the end of my sight? Before they were seen, did they exist? Do they continue beyond my sight? Who knows the truth! May be it is all magic that spiders always weave; from their bodies the webs emanate and back they are withdrawn at their will. Am I lonely? Oh, that can't be, a spider perhaps, webs are made in my aloneness, the mall of life. The world then roars as I breathe, creatures up and down do stream in my eight, nay, countless wings, in frenetic haste without abate, the spider mall just a spot in it.