I have often exercised the grey cells trying to figure out why the love of a good woman can make you give up certain pleasures in life.
Yes, like many before me, I have promised plenty and actually delivered only a few. But mind you, it is very difficult to fulfil such harsh obligations and make them stick.
Take the time when this sweet little thing made a big statement that she hated anyone who drank. Now this evoked a dilemma as she was a wonderful looking woman and the heart had done a few somersaults at the very sight of her.
The boom boom of the heart was overwhelming but something between the ears was whispering “What about the booze?” I must admit that I was fond of a variety of juices which I considered the nectar of life.
There was nothing better than sitting back after a hard day at work than to reach for a glass of the favourite tipple and savour it slowly, allowing it to gain control of the body.
Ah, the poet Keats was so right. All that stuff about the “O for a beaker full of the warm south…” etc was uplifting and just what the doctor ordered.
The senses would numb into a state of joy, all sorrow escaping from the mind. Life begins to seem beautiful, all other things be damned. Then the liquid permeates all over the frame, the soul soaring to levels unseen.
Bring on the music. Every chord played by Eric Clapton or every lyric of Jim Morrison seems so crystal clear. This is almost nirvana. It is mediation to the sound of a six-string guitar. Morrison’s poetry, mostly dark, sometimes perverted, opens up the mind to many possibilities. The night trudges along, each sip making the world seem a more wonderful place to live in. The cigarettes made a good companion.
But the morning after is another thing altogether. The sozzled slumber is rudely awakened by the harsh light of the sun.
The dilemma resurfaces again. The answer is never going to be easy. The first question which comes up is – “Is she worth it”? Imagine having to give up an important part of my life for a woman of my dreams.
Can I let the soul food go? Or its benefits like improving the wrists?
Yet…. There she was, as splendid as ever, with a million-dollar smile on the face. She would make an ideal companion. My friends would go green with envy, if we walked hand in hand. My position would jump manifold in society.
But life is multi-dimensional. Nobody knows about the future.
Then, another of God’s splendid creations walked in. All else was forgotten. This was the woman who I would like to spend the rest of the life with. The answer was there in front of me.
“I hate guys who smoke….” she said loudly.