Tuesday, March 13, 2012

I live and exist with my soul .. a soul tormented by the memory of my Father


 Jalsa , Mumbai                Mar 12/13  , 2012        Tue/Wed  2 : 46 AM for 3 : 25 AM
I live and exist with my soul .. a soul tormented by the memory of my Father, his presence, his works, his words and his great mind .. they play in my ear now as I attempt at this early hour to speak to you, to express what must simply be an exasperated act for you and all the Ef .. but I would be dishonest if I did not share what now has become my alter … in more ways than one …
In todays time and space it may seem odd, weaving close to an eccentricity .. so be it .. but I compose and sing and listen with eyes shut and transpose to a situation where there is tranquility in solitude .. I shudder to share, to allow interference .. for, too long have I spent wasteful time in catering where service is shunned … where thought and care and understanding is taken as a given … what will the most talented and knowledged give opinion on this, when they are unaware of the depth of the emotion that rides parallel to my thought … I would feel diminished and vacant were it to occur so .. this moment must remain with me and me alone .. it is verily impossible to expect a meet of souls … there would be the possibility of an opinion that could be right in the eye of the righteous .. that look upon it from a distance .. that pay service of appreciation because it is righteous to do .. that is a compromise .. soul needs an aloofness,  no reverent compromise, unfettered attachment … this I obtain within, not without or with another, not because I would not entertain it … I would .. but the assurance needed is frightening .. once given out and not of consonance .. would devastate. That consonance would require immense sensibility, not necessarily of high degree – mine is not of that value – but one that would sink into the abyss with me … why would anyone be interested in that ??
Living and existing then with my soul … brings me to the beginning .. a beginning that really is truthfully, the end ..
Signing off with my name would for this instant seem ungainly and devoid of what is desired .. a blankness, a void, vacuumed and floating … perhaps to appear … perhaps not !!

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