Confession is a constipating thought to me.
I don’t think of confessing to someone. I am not an opinionated bastard who thinks of me high above the all. And I do not believe in god. The other alternative is to confess the so-called representatives of god to redeem the burden of their sins or misdeeds. I even am skeptic about sharing my pain with people around… Especially friends…
Concern sometimes makes one forget the need to share pain in silence and pass on a judgment that’s too premature. And sometimes their own love for me laced with an untraceable amount of ego makes them take my side and find reasons to attack what hurt me. It is a worse predicament on my side when the object of my anguish is a subject that I am profoundly and irreversibly in love with. I could neither align with the negative observations of my friends nor with the insensitive act committed by the one I loved.
I tried unburdening myself with the very humane act of ventilating myself before a few chosen friends. And I could not quite make myself happy with the results I encountered. There were times when my own suspicious brain tugged me if I made a wrong choice of my redeemers is wrong. I really cannot blame them. They love me in such way that everything that hurts me hurts them too. But it’s not something over which I could stay complacent when someone however close to me points their fingers at someone I loved so dearly.
She must have her own reasons… good or bad… she must have her own compulsions that are reasonable or unreasonable. She must have discovered her own reality… justified or not justified… she must have developed strength to wipe out her own morals and scruples to make her life better…
But she is someone whom I loved truly and dearly…
My friend Jazz suggests I should seek the shelter of God. She is a sweet girl who vehemently suffers my arrogance and yet reacts not in anger. But I distanced myself from hypothetic assumptions long back and I recoil in my own realms of reserve.
And it’s very hard to contain something that needs to be shared with someone who is… not ready to respond or receive it. It is proving very hard almost every moment to accept the terms of reality. On the other hand it’s too astonishing to look at her resolve in maintaining her poise in keeping our six year long relation dumped down in dust.
I need to speak. I needed to speak to someone who is non judgmental and stoic without being too apparent about what they feel. I want someone who understands the precise balance between matured silence and empathetic smile that harmonizes my spiritual turbulence. My counselor must not be polluted by wisdom or tainted by intellect. He or she must be pure enough to make me feel safe in their presence and give me courage to open my heart.
Such an impossible greed on my part to look forward to meet such person…
I smiled to myself and let life pass by unobtrusively. I went back to my own internal turmoil that’s well masked by my passive demeanor and countenance that forgot to smile genuinely.
Till few days ago I happen to meet someone who exactly fitted my anticipations…
I have this friend who is blessed with a baby girl and a lovely wife. They called me on to share a simple meal. I accepted their gracious invitation and entered their abode. For some reason the couple needed to go out for a while and asked if it would be too inconvenient to leave their baby girl in my protective custody. I gladly accepted that responsibility and allowed them to leave.
The baby is about eleven months old and trying to precariously balance her cute little rump in sitting position. Her twelve inch floral frock is contributing its best to compete with her innocence. Her spotless diaper is even more proud to keep her warm and dry. The baby looked at me with big eyes and mystified with my attempts to make her smile. I made some monkey faces and tried brining her smile.
Then I happen to hear a song faintly far off from a radio that’s became my favorite nowadays. It’s a soulful tune that squeezes the heart of someone who is sensitive enough to feel the most inaudible murmurs of soul that’s blessed with love. This song reverberate my psyche and makes me lose sense of time and space.
I started humming the song outward and attracted the attention of this cute baby. She just looked up and looked at me with her big eyes and lovely chubby cheeks. And she smiled knowingly without knowing anything. This gave me a new courage and method to attract her attention without losing my opportunity to sing that song with the intensity of passion I feel when I listen to it and empathize with it.
I really attracted her innocent attention. But I also realized that there were tears in my eyes. In an utter greed to be consoled I pushed my face within the reach of the baby not really knowing what I was anticipating. And she was attracted to the sparking tears that tried escaping my eyes and her tiny hands too. She smeared her hands on my cheeks and tried tasting them and smiled at me again in innocence.
I felt so humbled. That gave me an idea.
That day I confessed to her.
I put her in my lap and told her so many things that I wanted to be relieved of. I confessed my own disgust towards myself in certain areas where I employed unethical and immoral means to reach the ends of my ambitions. I explained my own stupidity in a few things because of which me and my loved one suffered. I made her see my point of version that I find to be right thing to do even today. I told her that deep inside my heart I am apologetic towards a few people in my life and I do not have the courage to express myself.
And she listened to me.
Looking at me sometimes… tugging my long hair sometimes… pushing her tiny fingers in to her rose petal lips and sucking them noisily… trying to slide off my lap when she felt like it and… stopped herself looking at me in awe when I gone emotional and my verbal expression.
She offered me no opinions and no solutions. She did not contemplate who is right and what went wrong. She did not flinch her face when disgust surfaced my confession. She smiled sweetly at an unexpected moment throwing me off balance of my pain… and made me smile too. She was not affected by whatever perils I underwent and whatever exploitations I was proud or not proud of.
And she ran in to the arms of her mother when the parents returned…
I had the pleasure and ease of confession that day…with no residual guilt, suspicion or skepticism in my heart…
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