...In the battle between Love versus Ambition, either is doomed to erode and fade. One cannot thrive in the presence of the other; fate only favors the one that is more persistent. My father keeps telling me, "You can't have the cake as well as eat it" and I find that fitting in this case.
Some may say that it is the choices that we make, and in the end, it all works out. Perhaps. But whose side of the story are we telling?
I for one, strongly believe, that we take refuge in anything and anyone, that is comforting. All our actions, likes, dislikes and fear is the consequence of this idea of comfort. Motivated by reciprocation, love persists. Failed by disappointments, love gives way to grey; from hereon, there are two paths- one of doubt, and one of greatness. For its only in misery, that a revolution is born.
But, it's not wise to suggest that all of us were born of love, good or bad. Some of us are made of ambition - I think it is a variation of love- a love for self-awareness (but for convenience of reference, we shall call it ambition). It's also the conqueror. And in all sense of honesty, it is also easier. Love, on the contrary, is truly for the resilient.
Our mortal nemesis is not so much death...as much as it is the fear of the unknown. We are deeply vested in the anticipation of the future, tormented with the ceaseless possibilities ( or lack thereof) and the seeming rhetoric - how will our stories be told?
Yes, if you ask me, I don't think we fear dying. We fear not being remembered. That, according to me, is truly ceasing to exist.
And as in all times of conflict, we are known to do, we will turn to believe in the representation of the Beyond, and for convenience I call it God. God, is my answer to all things inexplicable; a billion questions, which perhaps our race was never meant to ask. Yet we are here. Living. Evolving. And I need to know.
Enter Science. Science has very reassuringly resolved the origin of species, yet, it is, like every other definite, a didactic.
Removed from all knowing-ness, simply put, we all want to be in memories, in books, in arts, in literature, in history- in mourning , in wonderment or in obscurity.
I now, therefore, wonder, is ambition so different from love? Or do they harness a placebo effect for each other?
I don't know which is truer; we choose the one we love, or love chooses us. But in defying to do so, or being refused the choice itself, ambition is comfort for now.
For while Love eludes me, my person functions with ambition better. Open yourself to love, people say. I defer to add; open yourself to love 'of any kind'.
Because, while the manifestation is different, the objective remains one and the same- to be forgotten Not . And as singularity is nature's favoured offspring, one will need to perish for the other to succeed.
Forgive me Bubba, for it is the only kind of love I know. And that someday, I hope, you will understand and we will both, each, find what we are looking for.
" ...That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.”
- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
And until then, the heart will burn...
Remembered always,
A!
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