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Saturday, December 31, 2011

Seven Letters From A Wanderer: The Seventh Letter


GOODBYE...



September 14, 2009

Hi Ash,
How could I have been so blind, so foolish? How did I not see what was so apparent, so obvious? How did I meander on the path that I was not supposed to be treading on? How? You never loved me. You never said it. Your silence was your apathy. I took it for your acceptance. The acceptance of myself. The acceptance of a friend. Oh, how did I act so imprudently?
A bud needs proper sunlight & adequate water to grow into a charming plant bowing down with flowers.  A helpless lamb needs appropriate nourishment to grow into a strong ram. Similarly, love needs reciprocation to grow into a bond. In absence of reciprocation, it becomes revulsion. And I don’t want to hate you, Ash. So, I have decided to stop. To end this story here & now. Let the story of my love remain incomplete. Let the story of my life remain incomplete.
Life, as I see it, is nothing but a series of choices. But for every choice we make, there are some inevitable consequences. Positive or negative, it doesn’t matter. But there are consequences, period. And the thing to understand is that we are responsible for the consequences. The freedom of choice is necessarily accompanied by responsibility. Productive or futile, good or evil, whatever the result, the onus is always upon us. We have the will to choose. That maybe, perhaps, the greatest boon for us. But in a way it is a bane, too. Because we are forced to choose for ourselves, the responsibility, too, is thrust upon us.  As someone has rightly observed – we are “condemned to be free.”
This, perhaps, is the greatest fear of man. To the moment a person is assured that the thread of his life is in some other being’s hand (God’s as per theistic concepts), that the course of his life is being guided by some unknown hidden principle, he is free of unease. For there is always someone or something to put the blame on, for every wrong that’s happening to you, isn’t it?  But what if everything you believed in crumbles? What if you realize that there is no such unknown hidden principle? What then? Then, all our attempts to absolve ourselves of our responsibilities, appears nothing but a futile endeavor at self-deception. By denying ourselves of the responsibility of our choices, we deceive ourselves, keep ourselves in dark.
Eight months ago, even I made a choice. A choice, too bold by any standards – to disclose my heart, my feelings to you. That day I had no idea, what future has in store for me.  I had not the slightest idea what the consequences, the repercussions of my action would be. It was as if I had been blinded by my love. Only one thing I knew – I love Ash & Ash should know it. ‘The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, & your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself.’ Right, isn’t it? So, finally, I gave in to my temptation.
My love for you has undergone so many upheavals that a book can be written on it. Let me give you a glimpse of my feelings for you as recounted from my journal.
6th January
…I don’t know but I am slowly becoming obsessed with Ash. I don’t know how but I am falling in love again. My heart jumps when I see Ash. I love the way Ash smiles…
10th January
…Let no one fall in love. The pangs of love & the torments of affection are too painful to bear…when Ash comes before me, I don’t know what happens to me… I feel an unknown helplessness… I think I will die because of my helplessness. Since I can’t admit my love for Ash. Never.
8th February
…Why do I never find it difficult to make friends with other people?...But I am unable to unfurl Ash… Is there a chance Ash also likes me & doesn’t know how to say it?...
14th February
I finally did it. Confessed my love for Ash… I do not know whether this is right or wrong, good or bad. I just know that I’ve loved somebody & it is important for me to tell the person that I love that person. The consequences – I don’t know. Maybe, Ash will hate me forever. Maybe, Ash will accept my proposal. I don’t know…
17th February
…no reply from Ash. My doubt was right – Ash has not read my letter. I was too disappointed. But what else could I do, except for lamenting upon my fate…
18th February
Slowly I’m getting a feeling that I was wrong about Ash… But I can’t undo what has been done. I have loved Ash & that’s a fact. Nothing in this world is going to change my love for Ash. If I can’t be the lover, at least I’ll be a good friend…Nobody’s life is perfect. But we can at least have perfect moments in our life. Maybe, I should strive for those perfect moments…
23 February
… I am fed up of my constant longings. My desires know no end… I have decided I will stop thinking about Ash. That doesn’t mean my love for Ash is dead. No, I can never stop loving Ash. But I’ll stop expecting love in return. It gives me nothing but pain. And I can’t bear this pain anymore.
2nd March
How strange it is that I no more feel the pain that I used to feel earlier! … Is it because now I don’t feel awkward anymore in Ash's vicinity? … What I fear is being parted from Ash. Will I ever be able to confess my love? Will Ash understand me someday? Will Ash love me someday? I don’t know. I really don’t know.
9th March
…but still somewhere deep inside, I feel the restlessness of a lover unable to express love for the beloved … I feel so helpless. Why did I fall in love with you, Ash? Why? …
26th March
…Creating castles in air, I hoped I’d live in them. But a small shudder of reality shattered it to pieces… But this stupid heart of mine, how should I make it understand? … Ash doesn’t love me. Not because Ash doesn’t want to. But perhaps because Ash can’t… The sooner my heart wakes up to this reality, the better it’ll be. Else, it’ll be too late.
8th July
… Do I love Ash or an idea of Ash? … An idea that exists only in my mind. Is that conception same as the person that stands before me? … Why does it always happens to me? Why do I never get the love I dream of? … I fear the day when I will wake up from this dream & everything around me will fall asunder. I fear what’ll happen if someday I have the realization that I don’t love Ash. What’ll happen that day? Ash!! Before everything’s over, before it’s too late, speak. Speak what you want. Or else, maybe, I won’t be there for too long.
27th August
Ash said it today… I deserve this. I really deserve this…
Everything that has a beginning has an end. This story started on the 14th of February & here it ends, on 14th of September. Eight months, seven letters. Seven letters – the seventh letter in the seventh month. Seventh month? Did I just say that? But September is the ninth month, isn’t it? Yes, now. But it wasn’t always like that. There used to be a time when September used to be the seventh month. In those olden days, March had the honor of being the first month of the year. And September – the seventh month – was held in special veneration, for in this month the ancient Greeks celebrated the return of Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, the goddess of grain & fertility back to her mother from the confines of Hades, the Lord of the Underworld. Her return was a symbol of the return of Spring to the world. And guess the day the celebrations begun – 14th September.  They celebrated the arrival of Persephone, I lament upon the departure of my love.
One day I saw you & fell in love with you. I was incomplete. I thought you’ll make me complete. I was wrong. A wanderer is condemned to ramble here & there. He is not allowed to stay at one place for too long. In a way, the story of a wanderer is always being added to & improved upon. It is anything but complete. And those who try to complete it, are baffled by its immensity & incomprehensibility. The story of my love was a similar one.
Someone has said, “The promise of anticipation always exceeds the pleasure of possession.” Maybe, I will cajole my heart to believe that it is true. Maybe, there is some hidden good that my love was never consummated.
You know, just a few days back, a friend of mine called me up. He was very depressed. His girlfriend had betrayed him. She not only kept the fact that she loved someone else a secret, but also used him to further her own interests. She told him innumerable lies. And now, when he was of no more use to her, she rejected him ruthlessly. All the while that I was listening to him, I compared my situation with him. I could not help smiling (an ironic smile, of course) as I uttered the following words when he had finished, “Which is more painful – betrayed love or unrequited love? You loved her, although she pretended loving you. I loved Ash, in spite of knowing that Ash will never love me. Which would you choose, even though you know that it is only pain that is in your lot? Love, indeed, is pain. And we can’t avoid it.”
Ash, I don’t know if I was right or wrong. What I did whether it was legal or illegal. Because I don’t know whether love is legal or illegal. But I should’ve understood that I’ve no rights. No right to love you. Not even to touch you. Nothing. Do I even have the right to see you? I don’t know. I have pulled myself too far, Ash. So far that I can’t even hear your voice, let alone have a glimpse of you.
So, I stop here, Ash. This is the farewell. I do not know what more to say. Just this much, that I have loved you; hence, a small place in my heart has become yours, forever. Whenever you feel you want to say something that you can’t express to others, just remember me. I’ll always be there to listen to you, without judging you. Forgive me for any mistakes that I may have committed during this long correspondence.
With lots of love,
Only Yours,
Ascetic Wanderer

Seven Letters From A Wanderer: The Sixth Letter


A LOVE OR AN INFATUATION?



July 14, 2009

Hi Ash,

You know, recently I was thinking about my past life. The kind of person that I had been, I never believed in love. For most of my life I considered love to be a fool’s dealing. I laughed at people who did stupid things in love. I always wondered how can a person be so naïve so that he becomes ready to commit his whole life to just a single person. Never did I believe in love, nor did I had the slightest idea that one day I will be the prey of its darts. Now I know what a fool I had been. To assume that I will not fall in love. To think that I was above these petty emotions. It was a stupid notion. Who knew that of all feelings, love is the most powerful? To challenge love was to challenge Nature itself. And how can one win against Nature?

But I swear, loving you has not been an easy job for me. Only I know how much pain I bear each day since I have loved you. The pain – it sometimes becomes so agonizing. Each day I look at you with a sole thought in my heart, “Does Ash feel anything at all?” and one and only prayer on my lips, “Please read my heart through my eyes.” The day I loved you, I realized - to love is not so easy. Because love is not just about liking someone. It is mostly sustaining that like.

It’s very easy to fall for something or someone. We feel attracted to many things in our life. We like them. We adore them. But with the passage of time the intensity of our liking diminishes. We get engaged into new things. A little later, we completely forget about the previous thing. That’s the normal course of our likes.

But love – it’s different. When we love someone, we love them inspite of all their limitations & weaknesses. Maybe we are two completely different people, maybe our thoughts do not match, maybe my expectations & your efforts do not match, but we will never stop liking each other. We will always be fond of each other. Because we love each other. Isn’t it, Ash?

So, you may ask – Do I like you or I love you? To speak the truth, I don’t know. I don’t know how to differentiate between the two. How do I tell them apart? If it’s only the duration that we have to consider, then perhaps I have sustained my like long enough so as to promote it to love. What should I say? I think about you day & night. I see you in my dreams; some of them I do see with my eyes open. My heart leaps every time I see you smile. Every pore of my body radiates an ecstasy unparalleled, when your eyes meet mine. If this is not love, then I don’t know what is.


Long ago, I had heard a charming Chinese folktale. It’s about a young & pretty damsel who falls in love with a ghost who is always in a coat. Every night they meet in the woods, where they talk for hours until the Eastern horizon is painted in the hues of red & gray. They play in the sparkling waters of the spring and swing in the branches of the stooping trees. They sing and dance & the whole nature joins in with them. Thus the slothful days of warm summer & leafless autumn pass away quickly to usher in the cold winter. And then there is a snowfall so heavy that the lovers are unable to meet for many consecutive days. Feeling restless, the damsel scuttles out to meet her lover one day, forgetting to take any warm clothes with her. Shivering with cold, she reaches her lover who is waiting for her in the same coat under the same sycamore on whose branches they swung in the summers. The ghost looks at his love – her lips blue & her eyes closing. And without any second thoughts, he wraps the damsel in his coat. A smile plays on her lips. But soon it grows fainter. Because before her eyes, her lover slowly fades away into the air. For oblivious to her was the verity that her lover, the ghost, was under the curse to depart from the confines of this world on the touch of snow – the reason he always wore a coat. The apparition fades with the final goodbye, exchanging his existence for her – giving her a new life forever. And the nature sings an elegy in honour of the ill-fated lovers whose love was doomed from the beginning.



I don’t know why but this tale touched my heart. It’s a simple story. But still it’s so poignant, that I can’t help remembering it. For it tells that even in death we can find meaning. Someday, I wish even I would cover you with my coat. Perhaps that’ll be my ultimate ode to you. And perhaps that’ll depict whether I like you or love you.

With Love,
Forever Yours,
Ascetic Wanderer

Friday, December 30, 2011

Seven Letters From A Wanderer: The Fifth Letter


DOOMSDAY

14 June 2009
Hi Ash,
What’s up, bud? Hope you’re enjoying your time in Kolkata - well, the catch being whether you can really enjoy in the weather that is prevalent here. Still, we human beings somehow find means of cosseting ourselves in pleasures, however small. Isn’t that what differentiates us from the rest of the living world?
From weather, I can’t help mentioning that formidable mother of disaster, the cyclone Aila. Goodness gracious, what an experience it was. I don’t know about you, but as far as I am concerned this was my first tryst with a climatic calamity of any sorts (barring earthquakes, the worst of which I have seen during my childhood). As mentioned in the Bible, it appeared as if the ‘floodgates of the Heaven’ had been opened. The mild winds turned into a torrent of immense vigour. The same breeze, that fetches us the much needed relief from the scorching heat of the summers, had somehow forsaken its abetting nature & had embraced the temperament of a giant hell-bent upon annihilating everything that hindered its path. 
The state of the roads was even direr. Large trees, that had proudly withstood the assault of minor rains & thunderstorms, uprooted from their foundations, lay helplessly on the roads, thus blocking them. The sides of the roads, which had been invariably lined with small stalls & booths selling everything from food-items, cigarettes, candies and SIMs, appeared uncannily clear. The impermanent planks or sheets of the walls of those stalls had been blown away by the outrageous gush of the high speed wind. Abandoned in a hurry, they had been victim of the nonchalance of their masters. The cyclone not only blew away the shops, but also thwarted the hopes & aspirations of families associated.
The rush of the people on the roads was even more extraordinary. With the declaration of an emergency holiday by the government, it appeared as if someone had hurled a stone at a bee-hive. Huge flock of people poured out onto the streets from offices, institutes, schools & colleges. Everyone wanted to reach the safe havens of their home as soon as possible. After all, everyone wants their loved ones near them at the time of calamity. Even the safest of places cannot give you the same sense of relief that being in your own home in such a situation provides. The home, after all, is special.
But this congregation made the matters worse. The buses came packed to the brim. There were no empty taxis or autos available. Moreover, the speed of the wind was increasing minute by minute. Standing beside the road, waiting for my bus, I was thinking how the hell I would reach home in case I couldn’t get a bus. I was completely drenched in the downpour & the gush of the wind was not allowing me to stand steady at one place. It was as if fifty men were pushing at my back at the same time.
Even in such a dismal situation, I couldn’t help smiling at the way people were coping up with the cyclone. The few people who tried to counter the cyclone with their tiny umbrellas soon learnt of the futility of their attempts. There was a lady who was trying her hand at many tasks at one time at this point of emergency. Talking with somebody on a cellphone in one hand, she was trying to control both the umbrella in her other hand and the shroud wrapped around her neck. The umbrella, in the excitement of the moment, abandoned its age old disposition of convexity, and became concave. Even the shroud of the lady, weary of its delicate mistress, was trying to soar high in the sturdy arms of Aila. The lady, it seemed as if, was unaware of the misery of the circumstances, for it appeared that she was busy in a frivolous talk with her beloved.

Apart from her, there were some school children who were much too happy to get a chance to drench themselves in the downpour. Hurling the dirty waters of the mud pools at each other, they didn’t seem to be in a hurry to reach home.
I was too involved in watching those children. Suddenly, my absorption was broken by a shivering voice from my back. I turned back. Standing before me, there was an old man, perhaps in his sixties, with an umbrella in his hand & a bag over his shoulder. He was asking me the time. I told him the time. He smiled at me & complained about the weather. I smiled back at him & replied how I had been standing there for the past twenty minutes with no bus in sight. This small courtesy on my part started a string of conversation. He told me about his job as a lecturer at some college for past 25 years and of his family of two sons both of whom had settled outside Bengal & a wife who must be desperately waiting for her husband to return home. I asked him whether his sons come to visit him often. He said they do but only once in a year during the Durga puja. I listened to him intently, picturing the loneliness of this old couple in a house bereft of the laughter of their grandchildren & the candid converse of their sons & their respective wives. Life had been good to him, he said, the only fear being what will happen to his wife in case anything happens to him. I was speechless. I had no idea what to say, so I gave him a smile. A smile that conveyed that I understood. I do not know whether he realized it, but the next question was for me. I told him about myself & my family. How I was working & sending money back home. I do not know why but he was very pleased with my answer. “May God bless you,” he said.
Suddenly, a joy spread over his face. I turned my head in the direction he was looking. 71A – this was the number on the bus. He bid me good-bye and put his hand on my head. “Always respect your parents & give them love & a little of your time. They deserve it.” These were his final words before he climbed onto the bus & was lost in the crowd in the bus. I stood there, looking at the bus until it completely vanished from my sight, unaware that the rains were beating on my face.
Not long after that, I saw my bus coming. Luckily, it was not as packed as I had imagined. Hopefully I got an empty seat in the bus. And as it happens ofttimes, the sense of security brings to your mind a ceaseless stream of isolated thoughts. I thought how calamities can bring together completely unknown people & make friends out of them. The old man & I, maybe both of us wait for our respective buses at the same spot everyday. If we had met on any other day, possibly we would have just passed by each other, completely oblivious of the life of the other.  But this thunderstorm, this cyclone tied the knot of acquaintance between us. I think we, sometimes, desperately need someone who will just listen to us without judging us. Perhaps, the old man would have been happy talking to this stranger who not only listened to him but also sympathized with him. Even I felt a sense of contentment that I was doing something worthy of appreciation. And his counsel – I will never forget it till the end of my life. And neither should you, Ash.   

I must say I was relieved on reaching my home. The severe thunderstorm had resulted in a power-cut. So, there prevailed a pitch-black darkness in my house. But still the sense of being at home was much too lifting to be dampened by such trivialities. I called my friends to make sure they are safe. We shared our experiences, laughing & making jokes over the phone. And at last, I also called my parents to tell them I am safe, all the while thinking about the old man.
The destruction wreaked by Aila on Kolkata was there to see the next day. As if the sights I had seen were not enough, the newspapers were filled with pictures of the victims of the cyclone. I thought - if a mere ten hours of cyclone can bring such devastation upon a city like Kolkata, what of those areas that were still far from the magic touch of the urban revolution, where even the basic amenities of the cities were a thing of luxury. And unknown to me, my most dreaded nightmares were taking shapes far away somewhere in the deltas of the surging Ganga & colossal Brahmaputra.  The virgin beauty of the Sunderbans was being ravaged by the merciless Aila. 
Whatever, with the government still trying to rehabilitate those displaced from their homes by the cyclone, the least we can do is send them help of any sorts. I have done so & believe that you have done the same.
What were your experiences during the storm, Ash? Did anything extra-ordinary happen with you? If yes, then I would love to listen to them. And as I have told you many times, I have got no problems listening even to your jabbering (in which I am an expert). Keep smiling & sustain the patience that you have shown till now. Looking forward to your reply.
With lots of love,
Only yours,
Ascetic Wanderer