I firmly believe there is no life after death. Death is final. It is just dust to dust and ashes to ashes. But the travails of life and of living have me on my knees bowing to any force above to help me redeem myself and reform my life.
My greatest fear is life as much as death. I used to fear being lost in insanity forever. But now I fear losing life without finding myself worthy of life or love. Diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, I am on lithium medication and have had quite a few episodes of insanity stretching from being months together to just a couple of days. Each time I come out of the episodes with some memory intact. Even if I believe in God, I don’t believe in the devil. I can’t subscribe to a theory of a superior force being evil. A miracle makes you believe in good and in God.
But what of the memories I have of recent episodes that showed me little bad and inimical magic tricks to hinder me. I just can’t classify them as mere hallucinations when their residual effects are all around. Whatever it is I have to suppress it deep within myself. Accepting God to me might mean accepting insanity.
I have to start afresh after each episode. I end up in the start line halfway through the race. Can’t I not finish at least one race to call myself worthy of this life, worthy of love?
I pine alone feasting through Valentine’s day’s plough,
but what of the multitude fasting for the lent,
if it only where possible for someone to dent
my solitude, even if it means just momentous lent love.
A day like this ended a year before
without cheer or much uproar,
it tore my heart even then
to be locked alone in this pen;
if love and romance is sweet nectar
being unloved and single is worse than tar,
a fact hammered down one’s throat
on each valentine’s day, a severe drought;
this day too shall pass like others,
yet the intense pain, none surpass;
as the day dawns, so does the truth
that forever alone will I be, uncouth;
yes, love transcends romance
but how and who will end my lonely dance.
Today, on Valentine’s day, as I was hearing coincidentally the songs of the movie ‘Oru thalai raagam’, that literally means one sided music which is a euphemism for one sided love, the thought of this post, my favourites of romance in movies came about.
The movie ‘Love actually’ a collection of stories of romance that includes a one sided love too is easily the most favourite. The movie titled ‘Valentine’s day’ is also a collection of romance stories that is also equally riveting.
Julia Robert’s ‘Pretty woman’ and ‘Notting Hill’ are both great celebrations of love and romance.
Though the world loved ‘Titanic’ for it’s celebration of romance I loved ‘Brave Heart’ as an expression of love and freedom.
All romantic comedies from ‘Devil wears Prada’ to ’27 dresses’ and ‘2 weeks notice’ to ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’, ‘Jerry McGuire’ etc and from an ‘Affair to Remember’ to ‘Sleepless in Seattle’ and ‘Sound of Music’ are all great celebrations of Romance. The ‘Object of my affection’ is also a nice romance movie.
‘Good Will Hunting’ and ‘As Good as it gets’ are also great romantic treatises while dealing with a dark or serious subjects. ‘Gone with the wind’ featuring Vivian Leigh and Clark Gable is a memorable movie of love and romance.
Hundreds of such memorable tributes to romance on celluloid can be cited. Yet I shall end here with a quote from another romantic movie ‘Beau Brummel’,
“It doesn’t matter how or where you end up but what is more important is how you have affected the hearts and souls of those around you.”
Today is Valentine’s day,
what can I say?
I too had a valentine once
fortunate to have smelled sweet romance,
though today my life is solitary sway.
I revived this blog only a couple of days back in pursuance of the changes in my life.
After years of idleness, I am now in the process of setting up a lending library in my hometown, Tuticorin. Got quite a few Tamil books for the library in addition to the English books already at home.
Reading three books in parallel, Sujatha’s Ayndham Athyayam, Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre’s Freedom at Midnight, and the book on Gita written by my brother’s friend titled Butterflies, parottas and the Bhagavad Gita.
Daily routine improving as I wake up in the morning instead of at noon enabling me to have breakfast which had been skipped for quite a few years.
This diary section is a bid to help myself. This will be maintained from time to time with the latest happenings that can be made public.