jewels-of-opar

Today I am coming back from the inner city square consequent to the funeral service of my old English professor who was life-changing to me from the reconditeness of spirit and who brought home to me Emily Dickinson and Emerson and Hemingway and Faulkner and he was a great man and I revered him with such an intensity as a similar bulk of friends of my institution..... I took the mini train then and reached the station of my youth with the long-familiar under passage to the nearest exit- and there once I was walking regularly with my dandy buddy and his sweetheart and me will be there escort and regularly at 9 am a few minutes before the sessions, I will face an old man in grey mackintosh and he would grin perpetually. I meanwhile will mouth another chocolate piece from my pocket pant pocket [that was the first pair of pants I ever wore]and my companion considered it silly because he had apparently sweeter things to partake, and, which led to the shortest exit ...Yesterday at the inn, I passed through a few folios of an old copy of the book my professor presented- Sir Gawain and the Green Knight -14 century-anonymous author- I did not read, and instead was looking from the windowpane the last vestiges of a winter night that was receding slowly.A woman in scarf and gloves, her girl child in heavy hosiery and the man impervious winter galoshes..It is called the .scarf and gloves, heavy hosiery and impervious winter galoshes...The Green Square, from the last century with fancy wellsprings, and in the heart is a place high in stature with a higher platform with marble inscribed on it anecdotes of Justice, Wisdom, Strength, and Moderation. This statue remains over the landmark wit further layers of cobblestones in coil designs.......Suburbs are known for viticulture nearby and the central areas enveloped by thistles of multiple casts and the wind will overpower and evacuate the dry leaves underneath each tree in a sudden gust. Like me, there will be several onlookers passing by these precincts when the climate is pretty fine, and perceiving the tints of the collapsed leaves and flowerets in an unusual reflection and I especially review that two or three my close buddies are no more and the sight is immediately engaging and aching from another perspective, beauty and loss intertwined--the nonappearance of those endeared ones of yore........ What a marvelous personage he was, my departed professor, regardless of the way that a person from prominent social clubs, he didn't crash you to feel stupid, in any case, he was all learned and a versatile reference book on scholarly ruminations and keynote quests and a meeting tutor of various societies, he stooped down so flat to find your worth and anyway you are in actuality puny before him, he influenced you to feel huge with his transcendent philanthropy and liberal traits, you are small before him-Forgive this self-loath -I think a few people live and walk around this globe with such credibility and vitality and creativity....We felt that he took after a man living in another era of perfection, an impeccable time where respect, truth and magnificence and beauty are the touchstones of life. Another perfect world yet to be found, no utopia, yet a reality. I met him later after studies, a few times, and not anymore.......First I dropped out and went to where I grew up when my people were living and I was quiet and content, innocent of life's fluctuations with good friends to share all stories of the heart without block, and I got sewed another suit from a town tailor and paid the twofold sewing charges so he would pass on the next day itself to see my professor. Likewise, goodness dear ,I sought after a travel of eleven hours by transport crossing every last one of those tempestuous woods and ridges with rains dripping along with sun[they call it the day of the jackal's marriage] and winding ways and aphsalt boulevards and country zones with little lights and lines that are the homes of humble gatherings close to the national hughway, sitting on the bus seat the whole night, and dozing - in those years the new luxury travel transports were absent- and you get down in the midst of the night and go to the urinal in a decent halt and return and sit, the night vendors offering you eatables, and beverages, however, you are not in a habIt of eating without cleaning yourself, a sort of custom that you broke in the end out of convenience , and you take a room in the town square by the Western Bridge and meet the teacher alone in his room at 11. am and the professor's words resonate-- you look smart---May be, he was seeing the new suit, which I got sewed only for this unique experience, and the talks on Sylvia Plath and another lady litterateur who was famed around then due to her plain disclosures in the married life, certainly she was a nice writer - There you pull back and following two decades you come and meet him in his home with family when his wife and young daughter were friendly to your family, and speak lenghily about new beliefs which you shift all the season, after various examination, and on humane things and this time your life partner was there in that town for another interview and you keep moving with family to the end of the country from where you can see the sun setiing and the sun rise at day break fro quitet near places, since it was a famouse cape, and you visit the stone where a researcher bounced into the sea and built up a memoir which was modified into the visitor spot- .Now, far away, sugarcane fields, fallen leaves on earth, and much on the walking paths...Tints that illuminated, still with connections to past scenes in history where good heroes went away, with their own stories mingled with history, the self-less lot and against the unadulterated white cover that spreads the extent that the eye can see. .......The houses with their delightful and chilly rooftops. - and far away from the jewels-of-opar landscapes, meek men go with the family to explore the attraction spots and to show the small animals in the trees to their children ............In the end you get intimation from some other's account that he is no more, your professor- and again you visit that plaza and herald the port in his absence and view from another point and take the photo relaxing on the steps you used to walk usually at some point in the far away yore and brood over the vagaries of time which were unsurprising ,however when it comes, greatly startling and in a way brackish to the senses.....

----[From a work of FICTION in progress

MIRTH, BEAUTY, NEW PERSPECTIVES