vendredi 14 janvier 2011

LIMINALITY BETWEEN EUROPE AND THE INDIANS


It is often like this

One day you are brimmed with hope and desires

And then the next, you realize, how alone in the world you could be, especially you are expecting tenderness to arrive from the four quarters of the globe

Azadeh from KL is about to leave for India and that means that for the next three months the communications between us would be minimized. I feel a sadness at her departure, since India is not something we have in common: whereas we have so many other things in common, Today she sent me some youtube videos on Toltec culture of Mesoamerica and I immediately dreamt about the various trips to the archeological ruins in Mexico.

Coming to the Indians, always begins like this, first of all the change is dramatic. I was in London and paris and now I am in a small hotel in Omaha, Nebraska a non descript town of no great importance to me in the middle of the country, only thing it is immersed in snow. That immediately puts a damper to my heart.

I don't look forward to the 150 km drive to the reservation and once I am there I am fine I know that since it has happened so many times. It is like going from one century to the next.

In this liminal period, everything appears as a loss. The Loss of my friend in KL now exaggerated by her well intentioned words of wanting me to forget KL which increases and not decreases my sadness. I live in a magical world of symbols, and I can interpret things with the slightest of meanings.

In a way to me, it is difficult to accept that in KL something is dying to be reborn again, but I shall not be there to smell the flowers. Life goes only forward.

At the same time, I am reading Hafez’s poems, each sentence with its most difficult to interpret but rather lyrical meanings. It is nice to have someone guiding you through this.

Everything can exist in your imagination in the form of magic, the reality is too harsh, to think about it and construct a castle of reality.

Now I am glad that soon I would be with my friends in Cuba. There is no confusion with morality, sensuality and affections; one can enjoy the innocence once again..

In the world of magic, all are innocent, there are no roles for imagined pathways but a fluid expression of ones love for the world, its inhabitants whether they walk on two feet four feet or fly …

I never thought I would be affected so much for the ending of this chapter in KL. I am being melodramatic but I see clearly signs of a chapter ending, and I am sure I should look at it with Khayyam’s abandon: Unborn tomorrow and Dead Yesterday, why fret about them if today be sweet?

Then Hafez can come in with his deep analysis of every day things and say: what is that you are worried about? You are surrounded by affections, let the balloon of this magic deflate a bit. Others live as they have lived for years, with no assistance from you. Pack your bags and return to your tavern of existence.

It is early morning. The place is covered by snow. I am listening to Brasilian music, rather moving music, words of saudade and longing and at the same time hope.

In a few hours this intermediate period in my life would end, when I am with the Indians once again, in the Blue House which would be there to welcome me even though I have not been there for two months. Books music coffee and perhaps some emails from friends from far and near..

I don't want you to think I am sad or lonely, but I am in between, neither there nor here.. rent a car and go to the Reservation and forget about MunChing leaving for india.

Think about the poems and their interpretations arriving at the doorstep..


THE PHOTO ABOVE SHOWS THE VIEW OF THE VILLAGE OF WALTHILL FROM THE BLUE HOUSE