Dear Cheeku,
15 October 2012, in AI flt from Hong Kong to Delhi
I must be drunk. Wine does this to me. In these moments I step outside of myself. The boundary between the real and the unreal blurs. My senses do tricks on me. I like this state because pleasure and pain are heightened and the numbness of the everday routine disappears.
I am missing you Cheeku. Nothing else really feels real at this moment but this immense pain of not having seen you for more than seven long years. I have tried hard to understand that this world is an illusion, life and death are but an iterim state, that permanence lies in becoming one with the Brahma, the Utimate One; of accepting that nothing lasts and that everyone who is born must die. This is the ageless wisdom of a people who have seen thousands of years of ying and yang: of birth and death.
But there are moments such as now when all this wisdom means nothing. There is a white sheet of searing pain within and the floodgates are bursting. I want to see you right now and I know I can’t. Not now, not when I reach home tonight, not tomorrow, not till I live in this world. How definitive some partings are…
I want to drink another glass…more, get over the moment, and then the next one, and then forever…But what shall I do with this yearning?
Love
Dad