Of Dante, Roth, Accent, Skeleton, Freedom, A New Friend and I

I am writing this for and to a new friend. He might not think the same about me. I, however, am indebted to him for the release.

Today, happens to be an important day in my life for many reasons. It has its own business ventures to talk of, the entire number crunching game. This post, though, is not about that.

My day started with a call from the past. I had indeed called upon it and at times wishes do come true. Since I had somehow pushed myself out of the slumber, it took me a while to figure out the content of it. And then I could hear some desperate threats. Ideally I was supposed to get angered and match blood with blood. But I guess I have gone far away. (As a matter of fact, one of the online tests I took to satiate my momentary masochistic bouts tells me that I am at the Seveth Level of Hell.) To cut the digression short, I went on with the conversation. In between all the words, I could hear something that told me to hold on. After all I am the one who teaches and trains people on the importance of tone in communication.
I do not know if my friend knows this or not, but the tone of the voice tells a lot about the human being. It takes you right inside the mind of that person.
We went on talking with going off the tangents so many times and in between popped a name that I love. Dante.
The next he popped up was in a conversation that I had been pining for and which always looked elusive. And that spoke of purging sins. My last post speaks of Sin. My friends out there maybe missed the point. Or maybe they chose to. Whatever it is, is something which will always stay a guess for me. The point that I want to drive is that the Sin I was talking of is what makes me human and I do not want to let go of it. The common sense might beget that you should not love if you do not have the capacity to love and the Sin I spoke was of loving without that capacity. Where does the question of purging it arise? And that has to be my choice. Not a response to some self proclaimed righteousness between a confused student and her caring teacher.

My friend, I am a mortal human being. I might have survived the 100 diazepalm pills, but am under no impression that I will survive anything similar again. As a matter of fact, it is Chateaubriand I would like to pick here and say that I actually started living my life after I lost everything.

"You could have purged your sins in your silent way, you need not tell that to me. You are as fake as your accent"...

I do not want to purge my sins. I will live with them. I do not have to wait for an afterlife to be in the seventh level of hell.
Yes, I need not tell you. I was stupid to do that. Maybe because I strongly believed in those words of love, till today. I had a small toy of belief, that maybe in between all that hatred and disgust for me, there still must be a glimmer of love. From where I saw, love is not something that can die. Well, you were right. Maybe it was not there at the first place. Maybe it was my life of illusions. (Hey, but I do love Auster) To cut the long story short, I wanted to share and not tell. I did not want anything in return. Beyond all what I am, there is a weaker side to me as well. That was dangling on the hopes of my undying love. And in no way I was trying to show something off. You alleged me of audacity. What about your audacity to tell me how to live my life and measuring me as per your conventions? If there was love, today there wouldn't have been any malice, if there is malice, where was the love.

You see the logic my friend, if there is no love, why should I bother to get back to it. Am beyond illusions. You helped me get rid of the last remanants. See, why I call you a friend. Despite a hostile conversation, I could not sense malice. And that is why I write this for you.

As far as my accent is concerned, I learnt it and have been teaching it for a while and have got paid for it. Fake is a perception. All of us are entitled to ours.

Thank you my friend for being the catalyst to my freedom. You helped me break the last thread. I do not want to grow up. What do we get of growing up. A false sense of pride. And the right to call names and the AUDACITY to allege people of 'pseudo-ego', a cliche I liked once, and the right to spin a miasma in other people's life just because they loved you once.

There are some of us who want to look at life from a 44 mm view and think of it as the world. We live inside our houses, ensconced in the shade of silver spoon we were born with and find catharsis in self praise and bashing others. We think that the ones who serve our emotional needs are right and the others wrong. You might be right, but the other might not be necessarily wrong.

No offence my friend, but I feel great today for erasing some memories off my mind. At the end of it, the entire morning drill was such a facade. I did not want to talk to her to be subjected to the malice. I wanted to part with a smile on my face. Not like the last time, crying. Well, I indeed had a smile on my face.

I remember reading Roth's letting go. All the while I was reading it, I felt very uncomfirtable of that invisible stupid hold that was there on this guy of what we gloriously and at times abusively call emotions. His catharsis was my momentary joy. Today, I can experience the orgasm of catharsis. I can Let Go.


"Heavy thunder breaks the deep lethargy within your head....

...causing you to upstart suddenly, like a person who by force is awakened."
--- Dante, Divine Comedy

My Sin

I made a mistake,
Of loving outside the peripheries of convention,
Without the capacity for love.

Yes, its true I never compromised with my desire to love,
I never had my moments of doubt,
I always knew it comes with a cost.

What I did deny was my inability to sustain it,
I knew I was not strong enough,
I knew I had nothing to back my love with,
No money, no stature, no substance.

They say thou ought not defy the conventional wisdom,
Of life, of love, of ...

I did.

So what I loved you,
So what I did that with all my energies,
I left none to build that world I had to,
For you.

No, I do not seek forgiveness,
Punish me, with you indifference,
With your perception of me that you are living with today.

Am sure, someday the life will come full circle,
It will get me all that I needed,
To stand as a man in this world of matter.

What I will not have,
Is the opportunity for penance.

I will live with my sin.