TakingITGlobal - Panorama - The Fear of...

Published on: Dec 3, 2006

Topic:

Type: Short Stories

https://www.tigweb.org/express/panorama/article.html?ContentID=9307

For six years, Jean buried his life in the world of avant-garde artists and intellectuals. It had been six summers, winters and springs of drowning in coffee and letting the steaming mug take him on sojourns into the coffee houses and salons of eighteenth and nineteenth century Europe. On these frequent journeys, Jean found himself engaging Locke, Rousseau, Voltaire, Freud, Nietzsche, Marx, and Goethe in intellectual duels. As much as these flights into the abstract world relieved him of the burdens of reality, Jean always knew that there may come a day when he would have to face his fears; the fear of being loved and the fear of not being able to love back.

On one such visit to a favorite café downtown, Jean met an old man. His name was Larry. Larry seemed worn out by life's unceasing demands but he had a calming flickering in his eyes. He was the kind of man who makes you feel blessed and lucky but at the same time ungrateful and inadequate. He wore the scars of life with so much dignity and gratitude that even the biblical Job would have been surprised. Larry invited Jean to his table and he sat down beside him. Larry was writing an ode to his wife of 50 years. Since he was almost done, he asked Jean to read it aloud to him, and this how it read:

"I have heard of the enchanting aura of the ocean. Many seafarers get drowned in her saline beauty, and never wish to see dry land again. They stare at her deep heaving form, and get fixated in those unfathomable eyes.
I feel the same with you.
There is freedom on the open road, I hear. Just miles of concrete and asphalt. Trees, flowers, bushes, lakes, rivers, deers, prairies and mountains flash by in a panorama. The sound of rubber eating up miles and the drone of a V8, a perfect symphony.
Just like your heartbeat.
The sight of the sun setting is calming, they say. Watching that orange-glow sink into the ocean or beyond the tree-line brings a rush of emotions.
So is the sight of you."

Jean saw tears welling up in Larry's eyes and he felt stupid. After all these years, this old man still loved his wife with the same passion and intensity. Jean could not say the same for himself. He was stunned, but at the same time ashamed because he belonged to a generation which took solace in materialism, sexual promiscuity and divorce. Jean thanked Larry for sharing his love with him, hugged him and stumbled out of the cafe.

For six years, Jean had taken solace in academia and an abstract world of philosophers, poets and men of letters. Although he spent most of his time reflecting on love and life, Jean’s abstract thinking hardly afforded him any time to contemplate the beauty of loving a woman. On his way to his apartment, Jean started thinking of how Belinda has been trying for two years to catch his attention. He stopped at the florist to buy some flowers, and headed for Belinda’s apartment.

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by Nana Yaw Boampong Sapong
Published on: Dec 3, 2006
Topic:
Type: Short Stories
https://www.tigweb.org/express/panorama/article.html?ContentID=9307


For six years, Jean buried his life in the world of avant-garde artists and intellectuals. It had been six summers, winters and springs of drowning in coffee and letting the steaming mug take him on sojourns into the coffee houses and salons of eighteenth and nineteenth century Europe. On these frequent journeys, Jean found himself engaging Locke, Rousseau, Voltaire, Freud, Nietzsche, Marx, and Goethe in intellectual duels. As much as these flights into the abstract world relieved him of the burdens of reality, Jean always knew that there may come a day when he would have to face his fears; the fear of being loved and the fear of not being able to love back. On one such visit to a favorite café downtown, Jean met an old man. His name was Larry. Larry seemed worn out by life's unceasing demands but he had a calming flickering in his eyes. He was the kind of man who makes you feel blessed and lucky but at the same time ungrateful and inadequate. He wore the scars of life with so much dignity and gratitude that even the biblical Job would have been surprised. Larry invited Jean to his table and he sat down beside him. Larry was writing an ode to his wife of 50 years. Since he was almost done, he asked Jean to read it aloud to him, and this how it read: "I have heard of the enchanting aura of the ocean. Many seafarers get drowned in her saline beauty, and never wish to see dry land again. They stare at her deep heaving form, and get fixated in those unfathomable eyes. I feel the same with you. There is freedom on the open road, I hear. Just miles of concrete and asphalt. Trees, flowers, bushes, lakes, rivers, deers, prairies and mountains flash by in a panorama. The sound of rubber eating up miles and the drone of a V8, a perfect symphony. Just like your heartbeat. The sight of the sun setting is calming, they say. Watching that orange-glow sink into the ocean or beyond the tree-line brings a rush of emotions. So is the sight of you." Jean saw tears welling up in Larry's eyes and he felt stupid. After all these years, this old man still loved his wife with the same passion and intensity. Jean could not say the same for himself. He was stunned, but at the same time ashamed because he belonged to a generation which took solace in materialism, sexual promiscuity and divorce. Jean thanked Larry for sharing his love with him, hugged him and stumbled out of the cafe. For six years, Jean had taken solace in academia and an abstract world of philosophers, poets and men of letters. Although he spent most of his time reflecting on love and life, Jean’s abstract thinking hardly afforded him any time to contemplate the beauty of loving a woman. On his way to his apartment, Jean started thinking of how Belinda has been trying for two years to catch his attention. He stopped at the florist to buy some flowers, and headed for Belinda’s apartment. « return.