Ode To A Great Being

There was something in his eyes that screamed he needed help.  His aura was so bright you could never look away.  I got to know him at his peak and ever since, I count myself lucky I did.  He was unlike the other men I had loved before him.  He was simple, pure and beautiful inside and out.  He radiated goodness and vulnerability but most people didn’t get it.  He wanted the world to flourish and he embraced his enemies, but most people would shun this.  I wanted to be his forever because I was young and carefree like him.  I wanted to intertwine my vulnerabilities with his because I thought he wanted it as well.  As we grew older, I started to feel younger.  Being with him was the antidote to the eons of misery and melancholy that had been my music.  Being with him was like nothing else in this world.

I saw him for who he was, a child trapped in a man’s body.  A mind so curious and invigorated that it would rarely sleep.  A touch so unassuming and risky that it made me yearn to be touched by him.  He wasn’t just different from other men, he was different from other humans.  His speech was mellifluous and sotto voce.  He would speak pithy words in a gentle tone.  He would present his points without seeking to undermine his opponent’s words.  He would hold forth about love and camaraderie more than he cared to complain about things.  He saw people as secondary and consciousness as primary.  His ideas were the floodgates and his aura the deluge of perfection.  But he wasn’t at peace.

We hold our vulnerabilities in the palm of our hands, always looking around us for the one who would snatch them from our grip and release them into the chasm of oblivion.  He never deigned to resort to such a thing.  He bottled them up inside his very being, until they consumed him.  Every day he escaped in his dreams but when he came back to life, he felt deceived.  He sought refuge in man-made ecstasies.  His was such a gentle soul that he could never be happy in a world like this.  He would let the high consume him, and at the very end, it consumed the whole of him.

I do not care for the terse analogies.  I do not care for the fake apologies.  And I certainly do not care for meaningless paeans.  His vulnerabilities made him human and his mistakes reinforced his humanity.  In this endless absurdity that we call life, he could never get over everyday injustices.  He was an empath and he let the energy take away his life.

This post is a celebration of his goodness.  Rest in peace.


Lukshana Gopaul

Lukshana is the essay writer for PLAG. You can reach her at luckshanagopaul@gmail.com .

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