In The Silence Of My Solitude - A Novel (Part 19)

                                                        22. Intermission

Dear Friends, Are you getting bored reading my life story? Are you murmuring to yourself ..who the fuck is this guy, and whats the deal with his mother, and why should we care? And the literary cinematic critic in you wanting to give thumbs down to my amateur effort, questioning my grasp of English language, my lack of creativity, and finally exclaiming , ' Look, the main character is uninteresting because it is not well defined!! '.

Well defined characters???. What nonsense! What a lie!

If there are hundreds of thought possibilities in my mind, and if I chose one thought among all those, based on the state of my mind, then how can I define my character with boundaries and borders? How can any one define the character of a man if that man is a change in progress? People define the character as 'oh..look at this man...this man is full of integrity', 'this man is full of shit', 'this man is epitome of [      ] '..etc. etc. But, would the man -- the man full of integrity possess it, had he faced the same situations and circumstances a man without integrity faced? Then, they talk about some great man in the history, saying..'Hey look at this man..he was intelligent..his objectives were well defined..look at the way he solved problems..and finally found success' . They look at that great man's life from his birth to death, and then they look at his success, and define the character accordingly. They define the person's character posthumously. Nothing can be so inaccurate in the realm of united states of mind.

First of all, how can they use a word like 'great man'? If I have the same genes as his, and if I faced the same situations he faced, Won't I be him? How can anyone call a man 'great man' without answering 'What is a man?' .

There are no great men in history. Just men. That's all. You delude yourself thinking of those people as great because you want to achieve, atleast partially, what they achieved. The so-called greatness of those men is nothing but your desires playing games with you, a desire to have a character, an achor, a god-ideal for your lost self.No wonder we have so many religions!

Even if the so-called great men exist, and if you meet them in  heaven or hell, ask them this question, 'What happened during that darkest night of your life? Did those dark nights reoccur even when you found solutions before?'. His reaction would be, first : he would hug you and cry for asking that question, and goes on telling how he suffered during  that dark hour, second: he would say that something drove him, some kind of invisible shit drove him towards that solution. Well, how about this --- Luck??

If there are no great men..then there wont be loser men. There wont be any-kind of hatred.

That was why, I forgave my dad. He didn't ask his mind, he didn't ask his circumstances, he didn't come across with stroke of great luck. He didn't ask his parents, the environment he grew up in. He didn't ask none of it.

I forgive you too, my friends, for judging me from your social conditioned sense of beauty, and your conditioned definition of the art itself.

Continued here..