Dear M.

by thekathmandudes

Dear M.

In the morbid bareness of autumn, I finally found, deep inside my heart, a sort of warmth, a fiasco –a friendship, which helped me persevere the brooding lust of death. Leaving behind the beauty of ethereal convictions, I fell upon your knees and you accepted me as I was; marooned by self and vain in nature. As I made strides towards the darkness, essential moments of love and compassion escaped me and primal emotions which sustain life were already numb. Having experienced life, I was disappointed. I wanted to experience death, for in certes I knew it wouldn’t disappoint.

In melancholia, I found the magnificence of life. In happiness, I found cruelty. I can only but contemplate that such confusions in our soul can only make us a better human being.

I think I was a good man then for I did nothing worth of contempt. I guess men are compassionate and thoughtful when they are no longer in pursuit of happiness. I was in pursuit of the ultimate truth and people don’t have time for such lofty desires. For most, it’s something vain and out of their common sense. Common sense is derived from one’s ability to consume all sorrows and to toil for the earthen pleasures. Such earthen pleasures are neither hedonistic nor stoic. It is moderation. I didn’t desire moderation; I desired pleasures that were not to be found in life but those that transcended life, and such was my disposition before we chanced to meet.

Being an atheist, I have lost all ability to sense the world from the point of spiritual wisdom. I guess, I don’t really know what being spiritual implies. I guess, being in search of purpose of our existence is being spiritual in some way.

All my rational leads me to death and I was elated at the thought of finding it out. The history of mankind has shown that it is for the love of death that both vile and brave acts have been done. Isn’t it for such love that Myrmidon followed Achilles to Troy and Krishna enlightened Arjun in Bhagwad ? And that Camus asserted that the most essential philosophical question is that of suicide and, Devkota’s tweed reeked of aniseed and tobacco?

After our brief acquaintance from the days of yore, I learned that contemplation was a grave weakness of human nature. And I ceased to contemplate. I began delving in leaving meaningfully and look what has happened to us? You have committed suicide and I find myself a sheep in this infinite herd of materialistic men and sycophantic women. I dare not flinch for I don’t want out. I have moderated and I think I am happy. I don’t think it’s a good thing. I’d rather be a debauch and destroy the pillars of humanity but I lack strength that you always had. It was your life and I respect your decision to take it but I am far from happy about it because you have ceased to exist.

Humanity knows no bounds for the concept of propriety. Only few audacious individuals like you could break the chain and move on to what you interpreted on being and existing. I used to feel that death was the ultimate truth. You showed to me that living and loving were also equally true.

Each day my memory suffers me and I seem to be forgetting your fair countenance. I have come to the conclusion that your death was in vain and so shall mine be. But whenever someone asks me on how’d you do it? I always harangue on how you rather lived. It was a glorious debauchery of life and though you left us young, you lived a life that most don’t even live in a lifetime.

P.S. Bon Jovi is a boy band. See you on the otherside mate.

 

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