i was lost on my way to lonliness, then i found you
19th January
Never have I read something that put into words the sensation I have never been able to describe. Some call it anxiety, loneliness, sadness, emptiness, but it is not that. it is much more. There hasn't been a word formed to stimulate this feeling. I'd probably call it anxondtinity. Yes. Uttering that too is satisfying. Anxondtinity. Ah. This book has put forth anxondtinity in a marvellous and relatable manner.
The Book of Passing Shadows by C.V. Balakrishnan
Here are some of my favourite lines from this work of art:
Sometimes, it may be a sinful act that makes life meaningful.
I am no longer a man, but a butt of ridicule.
He lay with his mouth upon her mouth, his eyes upon her eyes, and his palms upon her palms.
When I trod on this earth, I heard a soft scraping. I knew this earth as intimately as I knew Elisha's body. I knew where a touch would excite this earth to rise in passion, bubbling with laughter.
Her body would glisten like oozing oil.
He took her lips into his mouth and squeezed them like a honeycomb.
There is hope for a tree. If it is cut down, it will sprout again, and new shoots will appear on it. Though its roots grow old in the earth and its stump dies in the ground, it buds and puts forth branches, like a young plant at the scent of water. But where does a man go after he dies?
Walking from a protracted sleep, the earth said blissfully to the first falling drops, 'Oh, you have come!' the polite voice of custom, scent of unleavened bread!
His body was in ecstasy, crooning its own melodies.
I wish I could speak to the leaves, the stones, and the water.
'What are you doing?' give him the reply,' Don't disturb me. I am out here knowing myself.'
I am having a session with myself, a confession where I am both the speaker and the hearer.
'Oh, I wish my grief were weighed, and all my calamity laid in the balances together'
They became each other's arm.
Don't you know that God is not a man to mistake love for sin?
Night separated people from people and things from things.
'A world of love is what I hope for: a world free from choked-back tears, stifled thoughts, and smothered truths; a world without impotence and barrenness. A world full of love is what I want.'
It was with a self defined freedom that he made such a claim. It wasn't so much the existence of the sun's ray that he declared, but his freedom.
Surrender to an inevitability
I fear this love will carry me away. Like a storm, it will blow me away.
This night is unusually heavy with sorrow and fear. I will stay awake crying and praying till the morning.
Then the walls heard him crying. He sat on the floor and wept. There was no one to comfort him.
He began to know himself in order to drive away his sorrow.
The stones crackle in the cries of the yellow leaves and the withered roots. This month of April is like the longest sigh ever....
Annie has found happiness in life.
I will tell you how fervently I loved you and how many nights I imagined you were sleeping with me. I will confess all my sins to you. We shall meet.
I don't know what sin is, child. I don't know which activities come under sin.
What is this love if not what a man and woman do together after undressing?
The rain stood between them.
Do the footpaths lead to it or do they depart from it?
He was as lonely as a solitary bird. Even his shadow did not accompany him.
My heart was drawn so very close to the heart of the earth. They brushed each other.
My body is better than clothing. My body is as fragrant as bread. It begins to rejoice like a caged bird freed from captivity. It flies as far as it can go, until its wings become tired.
He ran his finger over his lip. He felt love for himself.
Sara was alone. But she felt no grief.
They took her painful heart in their hands, swaying, caressing, and kissing it.
Yohannan was swept in a cyclone. Like dust, he yielded to it.
I am going to my dark secrecy, to my divine ritual, to my song of myself. I see bright candlelight. I see fresh new wine. I see my own body.
I will tell you everything. I will tell you about a girl on a holy christmas evening, a secret guarded in the safest corner of the mind, a secret never revealed even in the weakest moments of confession... I will tell you all, all... But before that, give your heart to me.
Your mouth is sweet. You are like a lemon tree among the trees of the wood. Your eyes are bathed in milk. Your cheeks are spices.
Your breasts are like bunches of grapes.
His forehead was covered in sweat. But he did not bother to wipe it. His eyes fell on the distant forest. The forest stood like a wall.
