To America with love!!

by

Arnab De

"Darling, this is it_
In the laps of the Indus, beyond what was and what is to be,
We set the limit"
A limit that was never to be_
For love is what life is not,
Infinite_"

My first love is India. Commanded upon to love my neighbor as myself, I chose to fall in love with Israel. India and Israel, two marvelous lands and people whose intellectual expanse never failed to intrigue my subtle curiosity.
So my science set sail like a Columbus. But as I cruise my quest for the "essence of evolution", I fell in love again. She is the pretty Scarlet O'Hara. People call her America. I call her a "Divine Fur Elise".

She is indeed the piano of the world. And I confess I love the piano. The combination of possible notes one can play simultaneously is exquisitely vast, and yet painfully limited.
Eighty-eight pitches and ten fingers at first always sounded like a word problem from a sadistic math book. And while dealing with a small number of choices brings me tranquility and peace of mind, I also appreciate the benefits of the near infinite.

Walking a path on the sidewalk of Mars, I often ponder the exact route I’m taking, down to the centimeter, and I reflect on the thousands of subtle decisions I’ve made every day over my last twenty thousand years - even if only in walking. In terms of my life as a whole, I find the choices ahead of me literally unbound by any number of which I can conceive.

As my memory flies back to those good old days in the valleys of the Indus, I remember at lunch, India giggled and gave me the zero. She defined the numbers and the stairway to heaven. I was elated, and pecked those serine eyes. I carried her to the bluesy highs of the green Himalayas and made love cry in passion.

I panted, "Darling, this is it_
In the laps of the Indus, beyond what was and what is to be,
We set the limit"
India whispered "No,
For love is what life is not,
Infinite_"

On such an afternoon cruise in the Atlantic some five hundred years ago, I again felt completely liberated from the clutches of probability. Those sweet words smoldered me again and again and again liberating me from the clutches of entropy.

India remains my first love. I find no paradox in my philandering as my loves remain united in genesis and ideas.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Jesus Was Black and Sang Blues in Chicago
by: Adam Gosha
from: Rochester, MN, US

To visit all of Arnab De's poems, click HERE

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