Something of Myself
Saturday, November 25, 2006
For You
It burns slowly. The throat is left dry after much of it. Memories and wishes spring alive. A growing sensation fills you - swiftly moves time and with it, you realise that nothing is as it was. Or even, nothing is as it seems!
How much will it cost me to travel and explain to you how much I owe it to you? How many corpses do I have to stamp before I arrive in front of you? Don't blame it on me. I always put faith in you, as much as you put in me. I don't need to tell anyone, but I keep telling myself that I am whatever I am because of you. You remember the ice-creams by Victoria, five days a week, same old Kwality man, chocobar or vanilla? That taught me how to love selflessly. You remember lunch at 3:30pm, together? That taught me the meaning of commitment. You remember waking up each time I winced in pain, cause the liver was giving up? That taught me how to care. You remember standing by me, saying nothing, keeping your hand on my shoulder before the funeral pyre? That taught me the importance of silence. You remember the trip to the morgue to reclaim the body? That taught me that life had to end, someday. You remember us having ilish together at Haldia - palatable ilish - your words? That taught me to unwind. You remember our conversation by the sea? That taught me how to interpret pauses - the importance of saying things important by not saying anything at all. You remember how you convinced her otherwise, everytime she was mad at you? That taught me how to submit, the importance of surrender, one, two, many times, often times, just to ensure, to enable, to secure the nearest future for the bleakest present. Ha! It all seems so distant right now - almost as if it never happened. Was that a dream or is this one?
I cannot begin to explain what it meant to me - the effects are here to be seen by anyone who brushes by me. A glance, a quick exchange, a long-lasting relation, a dirty feud, a punch below the belt - whatever it might be, they will meet you, for sure, through me.
It's a shame they won't know that it's not me, it's you who they meet. It's not me, it's you who they love. It's not me, it's you who they feel disappointed with. They won't know. An invisible yet inevitable finality is etched on every attempt that they make to interact with me.
These days I feel like a drug - an expiry date stamped on the foil. They'll use it till I am good. And then, one day, when they pick me up (cause there is an urgent need), they will see the date and get a new strip.
Human capsules are meant to be like that. Pity they don't go terribly well with alcohol.
It burns slowly. The throat is left dry after much of it. Memories and wishes spring alive. A growing sensation fills you - swiftly moves time and with it, you realise that nothing is as it was. Or even, nothing is as it seems!
How much will it cost me to travel and explain to you how much I owe it to you? How many corpses do I have to stamp before I arrive in front of you? Don't blame it on me. I always put faith in you, as much as you put in me. I don't need to tell anyone, but I keep telling myself that I am whatever I am because of you. You remember the ice-creams by Victoria, five days a week, same old Kwality man, chocobar or vanilla? That taught me how to love selflessly. You remember lunch at 3:30pm, together? That taught me the meaning of commitment. You remember waking up each time I winced in pain, cause the liver was giving up? That taught me how to care. You remember standing by me, saying nothing, keeping your hand on my shoulder before the funeral pyre? That taught me the importance of silence. You remember the trip to the morgue to reclaim the body? That taught me that life had to end, someday. You remember us having ilish together at Haldia - palatable ilish - your words? That taught me to unwind. You remember our conversation by the sea? That taught me how to interpret pauses - the importance of saying things important by not saying anything at all. You remember how you convinced her otherwise, everytime she was mad at you? That taught me how to submit, the importance of surrender, one, two, many times, often times, just to ensure, to enable, to secure the nearest future for the bleakest present. Ha! It all seems so distant right now - almost as if it never happened. Was that a dream or is this one?
I cannot begin to explain what it meant to me - the effects are here to be seen by anyone who brushes by me. A glance, a quick exchange, a long-lasting relation, a dirty feud, a punch below the belt - whatever it might be, they will meet you, for sure, through me.
It's a shame they won't know that it's not me, it's you who they meet. It's not me, it's you who they love. It's not me, it's you who they feel disappointed with. They won't know. An invisible yet inevitable finality is etched on every attempt that they make to interact with me.
These days I feel like a drug - an expiry date stamped on the foil. They'll use it till I am good. And then, one day, when they pick me up (cause there is an urgent need), they will see the date and get a new strip.
Human capsules are meant to be like that. Pity they don't go terribly well with alcohol.
5 Comments:
Wonderful post Pele. I just feel a strong sense of the turning cycles of history and family in this. It is very poignant too. With hints of failure and unhappiness that stay with you. And the great image of the capsules at the end.
Your last post as well...I feel like that at the moment. It is just really hard to stay sane when you are so tired. Please don't work too hard and take a rest. I feel the same at the moment and I feel better having forced myself to rest todayxx Hope you are ok. Brilliant writing as always Pele.
A very moving tribute, but somehow the end took a lil digression. But as always u r brilliant.
Hi Molly - great to hear from you. Thank you once again - as always, I think you are way too generous and kind with me (not that I am complaining)... :-) It's not the work that tires me, but the thoughts. Some of them haunt me, others just fascinate me - it's a HUGE world - the world of thoughts.
Asha - Thank you! :)I am working on the brilliance... ;) "Miles to go before I sleep..."
"How many corpses do I have to stamp before I arrive in front of you?" ... reminds me of a poem i had written years ago.
besh bhaaloi likhchhile kichhu din aage. :)
kemon achho?
Chole jaache. Motamuti. Tumi?
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