Tuesday 17 March 2015

Silenced

I listened as the orator spoke
Words of faith, wrath and fury
Of lies and deceit, fire and smoke
Whatever worked to sway the jury

I watched as the mindless millions marched
Protesting causes they never knew
Shrieking slogans from throats parched
Sweeping briskly aside the silent few

I wept as the Wisdom House’s pages
To crisp ashes were nonchalantly burnt
Guitars may have wept through the ages
But Mankind’s lessons were never learnt

I seethed as I witnessed ignorance en masse
Comfortably residing in both pupil and master
If this was the state of the educated class
Our kind was fated, surely, only for disaster?

I listened, I watched, I wept, I seethed,
Silent I pleaded, I hoped and I prayed
But putrescent was now the air I breathed
My senses revolted and beat a retreat dismayed

Branded into my heart those words shine bright
I alone could cure this malaise of violence
But I possess not weapons for this sort of fight
I possess only brains, and so am condemned to silence

Friday 13 March 2015

Confession


I write today in hale and hearty mood, though the strain will be melancholy.

I once discussed with my dear friend the effects of hard drugs and the pros and cons. We spoke of the addict's highs and lows and whether they experienced life more than us and we merely misunderstood what happiness is. And whether the fact that they experienced everything so much more is the real happiness. I didn’t really subscribe to that, but it was worth discussing at least.

The way I see it, in any given connection, be it to an entity living or non living, the key judging criteria for me is whether one derives more joy from them than pain. It's simple. And with the non living it is a remarkably astute scale of judgement. I have lived my life by it and it hasn’t let me down.

With the living, however, the matter becomes infinitely more complicated. The equation if constant, would provide no huge intelligence to judge, however, people being so open to change as they are, the equation is much like quantum physics, the best we can hope for is a general assumption as to their whereabouts, accuracy is impossible.

But, since I am no quantum physicist, I find myself hopelessly inadequate in the matter of judging my connections to people. My history is common knowledge to you, and need not be repeated (though I assume it would be amusing if I did).

And so, in that oafish simplicity that is my lot when it comes to interpersonal relationships, I find myself falling back on the same scale. Do I derive more happiness than misery from my association with this person? Yes? Continue then. No? Then he/she must go.

It has been the reason I continued talking to many people who were frankly not at all my cup of tea. But they were entertaining, and couldn’t really harm me even if they tried, and so they were allowed to stay on.

You, however, are a whole different matter. I have fallen for you, hard. I allowed you in to a point where I myself didn’t often go. Every thought you speak, which as I have said often, you speak most beautifully and with immense profundity, I absorb and start applying, consciously or subconsciously, doesn’t really matter. I moulded my art around comments you made, my thinking around observations you made, not because of any other reason than that I saw wisdom in them.
And that, more than anything else, proves at least to myself just what a towering beacon of light you were and how much I have come to respect you.

And as far as my emotions go, I believe I have made them clear to you a million times. I love you. Our meteoric beginning is nothing I ever have or believe I ever will experience again. However, meteors are notorious for burning through huge amounts of matter with all the disregard of a Genghis-led Mongolian raid.

The way I see it, my relationship to you was like that of an addict to cocaine. I have no qualms admitting I was addicted to you. I never did experience life the same way after I met you (I of course, mean figuratively meeting you). Every high was a different kind of high, I felt like the much plagiarized winged creature from your poem, soaring above and looking down with unparalleled condescension at everything beneath me. And then in the lows, which every volatile relationship must have, I would gaze in wonder at the lowly specks of dust that seemed like Himalayan barriers on all sides.

I experienced both a lot. And the highs were made more beautiful by the fact that I had risen from those lows to experience them. But there was one point which was key. There were always way more highs than there were lows. The lows would be a blip, an insignificant stain on the royal cloth that was our relationship.

However, as is the case with most of my clothes, (and for that matter, most druggy addictions also), they fade out and they are not so royal and regal anymore. I find myself struggling to even remember the last time I soared. However I can, off the tip of my fingers count out the last ten lows. in fact they might as well have been one single long low. So I am now in the position of the requiem for a dream addict. I know it is harmful, I know the highs are a thing of the past, nevertheless I remain hopelessly attached and in love with it.

It is new for me, I will not lie. I never allow things to get to me. I remove them from my life way before they can reach that stage, then they may negatively affect me from without, but they'll never touch my extra fortified interiors. However, I did not do so with you. You remained within, and in a gloriously similar way to Napoleon's generals, the havoc was wreaked not by the armies without, but with the artery most closely connected to the heart.

But you know I love Nietzsche as much as I love you. And you know Nietzsche's edict. Strength is all. One cannot allow ropes to tie him down, no matter how dear the ropes are. These ropes are possibly the dearest to me and will remain unsurpassed in life. However, true to their nature, they remain ropes and must be cast off.

I have crossed the point where the joys of our association outweighed the woes. It may or may not be the same with you. (I suspect it was so long before for you) But I shall cast myself adrift now. I will bear the withdrawal symptoms, but I shall be the addict no more.

We may call this the end of our relationship. Eight months and Seventeen days after that fateful friends request that took birth from an innocent online joke.

What happens after, I do not know. I will, as is my usual MO, leave that to you. If you wish to remain friends with me, I would be honoured to maintain our correspondence, such as it is. If however, you bear ill will, or conversely feel I will provide more misery than joy, or for whatever reason you see fit, you wish not to, I hope you will be kind enough to reply to this mail to let me know how it stands.

Thank you for every little pearl of wisdom you have let fall into my grasp. Thank you for smashing down any pillars of my soul that were rotten on the inside. Thank you for making me feel love at unprecedented levels. And most of all, thank you for moving me to write the best stuff I have ever written. I have told you before, I will say it one last time, I would never have done it without you.

Goodbye.