The longstanding crusade for discovering the unbound pure desire of another searching heart that burns with a level of assumed unfettered passion as one’s own. OR an unadvised struggle with a true believer from another geographically far but not so distant world as one might think. “It is written“, or so the book says, that for each of us their is someone. “Not just anybody, mind you!” One that, say in the focus of current times, simply opens up a Twitter account and trolls with crafty text for suitable ‘fish’ using the current wonder of a worldwide far reaching social media net. But someone whose caduceus closely matches the patterns our own unique twists and turns. A virtual twin of our own genetic spiral helix staircase. The place, in other words, where science and science fiction meet to produce as impossible of a scenario as anyone could imagine.
My own pursuit of this sort of madness having come too close to this sort of fire and been dully burned as a result of twice violating a self inspired non-fraternization policy. Once with the ex-spouse of a former friend and the second time with a former student. That mysterious little eternal clay pot ‘ib’ lodged in the chest, bisque fired to hardened ceramic as a ultimate consequence of being so foolishly unwary. You would think that both eyes and the hands would have the animal sense to detect the full measure of mystery behind the exotic facade presented in one whose direct family legacy hearkens from South Asia. Especially when the standard criteria of pleasing the material monetary requirements of the extended family rears its uninvited presence into what before was spontaneous unfettered passion. But at some point one must realize that they are dealing with another totally different species of love. But in the foolishly persistent spirit of the fatality of the “Song of Roland”, not to mention the egotistical solipsism of Western European existence, one still charges forth carelessly tossing away their oliphant to meet that fabled virgin in paradise. And as the betrayer in this impossible ‘great game’ of love is betrayed by himself alone his sentence requires being emotional rent limb from limb as a result.
Believers and Un-believers can not ever hope to connect as one as this ultimately becomes fatal to the inbred legacy of both cultures. Perhaps in this other hemisphere, the traditional invocation about ones destiny being strongly suggested in the stars should include the following notion on the order of, “It is written that the sweetest of fruit is forbidden“. For the unruly warmth of the beating of one’s heart for the fulfillment of the fantasy of impossibility always seems to trump reasonability in a much slower process of attempting to choose a fit match for a lifelong mate. Some of us become expert in all the in’s and out’s of exactly the wrong paths to take yet cannot help but love them even more for it. Like Daniel Dravot, the unquenchable need to fill out the fantasy below that fabled golden crown of Sikander always leads to the endless tumble of that final fatal fall.