Stay Well, Wildflower: A first-person narrative in three cantos

Part - 3: Canto Nuevo.

[continued from <<Part - 2]

I do not plead that I did no wrong. I plead that I had serious provocation.

I have attempted only to transport you to those points of vantage that might make you appreciate the particular perspectives that formed the basis of the big picture that I saw. I have made no attempt to analyze for myself whether those points themselves were out of bounds. Perhaps they were. Perhaps it is relative whether they were. I don't know, and am too tired to find out. Perhaps the perspectives were accurate, but I saw the picture through tinted glasses. I shall never know. I am sorry I keep reverting to this argument time and time again, but I hope and pray that someday you will have traveled the years necessary to even begin to condone such a turn of events.

Pleading provocation is not a defense, and that is not the purpose of the plea. To be worthy of forgiveness is all I wish to be.

Forgiveness itself may or may not come later, and I shall accept whatever your verdict might be. I only know that it is terribly important to me that I let you know. For, despite the lack of "future" in knowing you, why do I find it so difficult to simply walk away? I have missed you terribly over the past week. I wish I could figure out why. Initially, I thought I was smarting from the insult of your supreme indifference, your stated judgment about my lack of worth. I have come to realize, that, over time, I will eventually get over that. I may never get over knowing you, so help me God.

I don't say this to soften your attitude towards me. Indeed, as you were at some pains to point out, you are not unhappy at me over an incident; it is who I am that is the cause for your concern… and, shall we say, disdain? Whatever the provocation may be, Ash, I submit to you that the person you knew before we met, and the person I am now, is one and the same. Neither have I changed one bit, nor had your keen perception been so misguided in its initial evaluation. That, at least, is what I would like to believe. I have already acknowledged that I wronged you. I shall not be so crass as to argue to what degree. I have made it clear that I will not expect to be forgiven. I will only aspire to that place in your heart where forgiveness may be considered. I entreat you, Ash, not to equate the wrong with the wrongdoer.

I beg of you, from the bottom of my heart: Give me back that place in your heart that I have, of late, so little deserved.

You have told me, in happier times, that you find it hard to forgive. I make my request, therefore, with much trepidation. If you must turn me down, allow me, at least, this opportunity to let you know that the time I spent with you has been the nicest I have had in a very, very long time. I will always cherish the fond memories I have of you. But I have many regrets as well: I regret that I never gave myself the opportunity to thank you for finding the time, out of your impossible schedule, to cook for me. I regret that I never was able to spend enough time with you, to even begin to appreciate your vast knowledge of music. I regret I never taught you to eat Sushi. I regret that we didn’t shop for blue jeans together. I regret I never saw you in your pink dress. I regret I shall never hand you that long-stemmed rose.

Above all, I regret that you will never find me worthy of quoting Sesher Kobita to you.

Should fate have it that our paths never cross again, stay well, Ash, my Wildflower.

- Neil.

Concluded.

[Author's Note: Wildflower is not to be confused with the Wildflower of posts labelled Saga. The identity-crisis is coincidental.]

[All posts ©opyright of the author. Syndication rights reserved.]

Stay Well, Wildflower: A first-person narrative in three cantos

Part - 2: Canto General.

[continued from <<Part - 1]

No explanation will serve to reduce my guilt, or assuage your hurt.

Then why bother?

Several reasons, really; all of them selfish. First of all, it will help me live with what I have done. Secondly, there is just an outside chance that you might understand the pressures that make people do the things they do. Thirdly, it may help me request that all-important space that I so desperately need with you, to ask for your forgiveness. As you rightly pointed out, when that does not exist, the rest, indeed, is superfluous.

Perhaps the hardest part of any explanation is going to be to entreat you to see things from the perspective of someone in radically different reference frames of time and circumstances from yours. It is not going to be easy for me to try and transport you to those vantage points, however virtually. Also, it is far more difficult to forgive at 29, than it is at 42… and, I would appreciate it if you choose not argue that one. I have been where you are now, and I know. So, you see, Ash, I am starting off with the deck stacked squarely in my disfavor. I have no complaint about that. If one chooses to cite reference frames in one's plea, one can hardly complain that that choice hamstrings one’s defense as well. It is important, however, for me to convey that an explanation is imperative, if one is to try and distinguish the act from its perpetrator. The former may not be worthy of forgiveness, the latter, at the very least, will strive to be so.

Accepting my explanation, or not, as my grounds for begging your forgiveness, is your prerogative, entirely.

You are no stranger to my circumstances. I have also shared with you my defining moment of a year ago when I realized that I must spend a significant portion of my immediate waking hours looking for someone I can enjoy growing old together with. You have always been clear that that someone is not you. I have no quarrel with that. A week ago, when I chose, finally, to meet with you, it was because of who you are. I visited with no expectations. To me, you were a great woman, who was already spoken for, and so shall you always be. I would have wanted it no other way but one, and we both knew we were too late for that.

However, I know now that I misjudged the intensity of your commitment under those circumstances even, and, for that, I may never be able to forgive myself. Ash, I never doubted that you have the courage of your convictions… I simply did not realize you felt obligated to demonstrate that courage as well. For that, I am forever in your debt. The sad fact remains, nevertheless, that in failing to acknowledge the demonstration, I undermined the conviction itself. I have no plea to offer other than the fact that the limited encompass of my mind does not even begin to approach the breadth of yours, and therein lies my unworthiness.

This is not about trying to convince you that you were wrong in finding me unworthy, it is about acknowledging that you were right.

Had I only failed to appreciate the intensity of your commitment, then, perhaps, there might have been room for doubt that I was naturally, frustratingly dense. Falling hook, line and sinker for your friend Runa, certainly put paid to any such illusion. Whether or not I misjudged Runa's reciprocation is the subject of an entire, separate, discussion in itself; but your extolling of her virtues, her obviously infectious attitude towards life, and evident reciprocation (separate discussion, remember?) presented too deadly a combination for someone who had been starved of affection for so long. Especially so, since I am not only immensely vulnerable, but quite simply believed that this had your tacit approval as well. I wasn't entirely thoughtless, Ash. I even slipped in a reminder about my age. It made no difference with her. Runa is your best friend, and you had, evidently, chosen wisely. It is, again, your greatness, that made you gloss over this strange turn of events by saying that you wanted only good things to happen to her. I was just too blind and stupid to see it

[concluded in Part - 3>>]

[Author's Note: Wildflower is not to be confused with the Wildflower of posts labelled Saga. The identity-crisis is coincidental.]

[All posts ©opyright of the author. Syndication rights reserved.]

Stay Well, Wildlfower: A first-person narrative in three cantos

Part - 1: Canto Fermo.

Santa Clara. June 13, 2004

Ash,

I made a terrible mistake. Some would say I made two, but that is a matter of semantics. For, what does the word mistake mean, anyway? More often than not, it is simply a cover-up for one's inability to admit that one did something wrong. The real meaning of mistake, of course, is either an error of judgment, or an action stemming from an error of judgment, or even, as oftentimes happens: both. Examined in the light this definition, devoid of all euphemism, I made but one mistake. The other was a wrongdoing.

So, to get things straightened out right at the outset: I committed a terrible wrongdoing.

One expects that being able to own up to a wrongdoing ought to be the first step towards redemption. I was half-hoping, therefore, that my uncharacteristically introspective self-revelation would magically lift a cloud, like one that had shed its burden in cathartic rain. But, catharsis, Ash, is not going to be that easy.

I wronged you.

I wish I could argue that right and wrong are, firstly, relative, and secondly, subject to measures of degree. I am tempted to argue both, but I know that I shall neither. If one chooses to deal in relativity and metrics, one must accept that the degree of wrongdoing experienced by the wronged is relative as well, and depends largely on the intensity of the assault on sentiment endured.

I accept that the assault on sentiment you endured was severe.

Why, then, am I muddling through with this long-winded introduction? Is it that I would rather hide behind a curtain of words than face the music? Hardly. For then, you surely would not be reading this. I would, quite candidly, not need to write this at all. So, perish any thought that I shall hide. Be skeptical, by all means, of whether I shall ever give you a satisfactory explanation. For again, is satisfaction not relative? The keyword here, of course, is not satisfactory at all. It is explanation. Why so? Do the events preceding the wrongdoing, or the wrongdoing itself require an explanation? Is an excuse being offered in the guise of an explanation? Would I so insult your intelligence? These are all valid questions.

The only important one, however, is: What purpose will an explanation serve?

[continued to Part - 2>>]

[Author's Note: Wildflower is not to be confused with the Wildflower of posts labelled Saga. The identity-crisis is coincidental.]

[All posts ©opyright of the author. Syndication rights reserved.]
[Image ©opyright Niladri Roy.]