THE END

THE END


I cannot help feeling that her company makes him a richer man than anyone else. I certainly would exchange all the riches of the world with him for her, but the subject is absurd and impossible now. I long for her company as a field labourer pines for shade. In her company, I found bliss surpassing ecstasy. I felt like entering a beautiful arch. Her company, after the troubled hours of my late life, felt like being in a brilliant chamber after a night walk in the garden. Now that all this is a part of my past, I feel wretched.

My wretchedness is enhanced by my helplessness. I can do little to fish myself out of the misery I find myself in. The thought of losing her was miserable in itself. The end of my beautiful dream has turned out to be the worst nightmare. I want to rebel against the gods of fate. Her company made me feel special, but the loss of it identifies me with the ordinary man. Fate has pushed me in the company of the layman. I don’t want to join the herd. I want to be different. I’ve felt more steam and smoke than anyone else. Others have experienced a different form of life. The more that I see of life, the more do I perceive that there is nothing noble in its great walks. Her company was the biggest blessing that I ever got. I badly wish I could be in her company.

Her company is what I yearn for. Her company is the retreat where I can forger the darker portions of my life. Her absence has created a vacuum in my life. I want to shed the dullness of sorrow that her absence has created. At times, I wish I could let here thoughts drop into the abyss of undiscoverable things. I don’t want to forget her though. I want to cherish the memories that I have o her. I wish I could build a mausoleum to remind me of the days that I spent thinking of her.

Her thoughts have always pushed my emotions to the zenith. She is the bridge between shadow and light, between hope and despair, between joy and sorrow and between all the evil in the world and all the good. Without her, my life seems to be as vague in direction as that of a thistledown in the wind.

The winds of time have pushed me to the crisis I find myself in today. Very few of us have the courage and energy to counter the tide of time. Most of us are forced to accept its dictates. I too must accept the ruthless treatment meted out by fate and time. The ruthlessness with which time flows depresses me. Time has taught me to concentrate on what lies before me regardless of what has happened in the past. Time shall eventually show me that there ate two flowers where I thought that there was only one. Perhaps there are three, four or any number as good as the first. The truth remains that there are other gardens in the world than the one that I’m charmed with. There are a great many places that are not gardens at all--------dusky, pestiferous trees, planted thick with ugliness and misery.

My misery reminds me of the blissful period of my life when I was happy thinking of her. My thoughts filled me with ecstasy and pleasure. The collision of events produced some beautiful music. I ought to be content with whatever little came my way.