Πέμπτη 8 Αυγούστου 2013

"The message" By Ben Okri

Σήμερα ξεκινά το ταξίδι της επιστροφής. Ήθελα να γράψω μια κατακλείδα για όλα όσα έζησα τους τελευταίους 9 μήνες, όλα όσα συνειδητοποίησα και έμαθα. Να μιλήσω λίγο για τις τελευταίες μου μέρες στο δρόμο, για τα ανάμικτα συναισθήματα, και για τον καιρό (άσχετο, αλλά χθες το βράδυ έκανε ένα  βρωμόκρυο... με το ζόρι κοιμήθηκα, ανάθεμά τον.).

Μέσα στο ταξίδι όμως είχα την τύχη να διαβάσω έναν Νιγηριανό συγγραφέα, τον Ben Okri, και στο βιβλίο του tales of Freedom, έπεσα πάνω στην τελευταία του μικρή ιστορία, που πιστεύω ότι αποτυπώνει υπέροχα το ταξίδι. Οπότε αποφάσισα να μην το παίξω μεγάλος συγγραφέας αλλά να αφήσω τον ίδιο, μέσα από την δική του ιστορία να πει και τη δική μου. Με έναν τρόπο μοναδικό που εγώ δεν έχω την ικανότητα να το κάνω.

Κάθε του λέξη, για μένα τουλάχιστον, έχει νόημα και ουσία.

You arrive dirty and hungry. You are covered in grime. You have come from beyond the snowline. It has been an epic journey.
You have travelled through forests, through innumerable cities and villages, barely stopping, travelling mostly on foot, with no change of clothes.
You have come through regions where you were unfamiliar with the language and the customs. You have slept at roadsides, in strange inns. You have travelled alone, bearing a message which only you can carry.
How long have you been travelling? You don't know. Maybe your whole life.
You forego pleasures on the way. It's beenhard enough just keeping on the journey. You have travelled nights without sleeping, days without eating. Your destination is your rest and your food. Your mission is to arrive at the court, deliver the message, and then to be free.
Many countries you have crossed, wolves you have battled, hard men you have transcended, cunning men you have eluded, seducing women you have slithered away from.
Youth deserted you in the virgin forests; and yet you travelled with youth, and never lost it. Youth remains in you, in your freedom and the simplicity of your spirit. Encased in the dirt of the road is your preserved freshness.

2

The last part of the journey was the worst. Getting closer was also getting farther. It is easier to get lost within sight of the palace. It is easier to feel one has arrived when one sees the battlements and turrets, the flags and banners of the castle. Then in renewed hope and exultation one hurries. And yet the way is still far. Distances are deceptive. Hope makes all things near, and so can prove treacherous.
You kept your eyes on the road. You nearly got lost in the village. You were tempted to stay the night, to divulge your destination to an old woman, and thus be given conflicting or self-serving advice. But you kept it to yourself. You imagined you were still at the beginning of your journey. You were conscious that it was still full of perils, and that you still had a long way to go.
Your whole life had been the journey. If you stopped to think now, or confess despair, who knows what snares of your own making you would fall into. So you staked your life on the jouney. The journey was your life, your life on the road. You might have died on it, but you were vigilant. You took each moment as the whole. That's what you did.

3

And then you found you arrived. You were in the court. You were in the place. In the grime and dirt of the journey the message was divested of you. It was painless. You didn't even know what it was. The message was on you. The message was in your dirt, or your unwashed body, in your weary but alive spirit. The message was in your eyes. It was in your arrival, in your dreams, in your memory. It was in all you had bought, and the nothing that you had brought.
The message was divested of you. It was shorn off you, and you were light. You were cleaned up of your message. You were scrubbed and shaved of it, bathed and washed of it. The filthy clothes were taken off you, and you were given new ones that shone like light.

4

There had been a mysterious ceremony acknowledging the heroic nature of your journey. But the true gift of it was in your spirit, your inner liberation. There was a new eternal light in you.
Fresh, young, and free, you wander the streets of the kingdom. You have the sense of beign in a new world, a luminous world. You are living and enchanted life in the kingdom.
You have set out early and had arrived sooner that you thought. You have a whole life ahead of you. And so here you are, a youth with a spirit of shining gold, rih beyond measure in the lightness of your being. Everything is before you. Your main quest and journey is over, because you had begun early and arrived early. Now you have it all to live, in peerless freedom. What luck! No need to fret, but just to live, now, the life you want.

Like a youth arrived in a great city, with hope in his heart, looking to make his fortune and find his true love, in the happiest and most innocent days of his life, like such youth you wander lightly through the streets of the mysterious kingdom. The pastel sky is touched with blue, and there is dawn sunlight.

Με αυτό το τελευταίο κείμενο κλείνω εδώ τις όποιες διηγήσεις μου. Όλα τα υπόλοιπα θα τα πούμε από κοντά. Φιλιά σε όλους.


Τετάρτη 7 Αυγούστου 2013

Αντίο, θα μου λείψεις

Δεν έχω άλλο τρόπο να σου πω αυτά που νιώθω... οπότε τα γράφω εδώ... με την ελπίδα ότι μια μέρα θα τα διαβάσεις...

Ήσουν εκεί πάντα... μαζί μου. Ρούφηξες τη σκόνη όλου του κόσμου... μαζί μου. ήσουν το πάτημά μου... η ασπίδα μου, ενάντια στα βότσαλα του κόσμου όλου... της ζωής μου στο δρόμο. Ξέρω ότι αυτό σε έφθειρε. Ξέρω πως είχαμε τις κρίσεις μας αλλά δεν σου γύρισα ποτέ την πλάτη. Έμεινα πιστός σε αυτό που είχαμε και κάθε πρόβλημα κοίταζα να το διορθώνω. Διασχίσαμε χώρες, βουνά, και ποτάμια μαζί, δεμένοι. Αλλά τώρα σε "κλέψαν" από μένα. Μια στιγμή δικής μου απροσεξίας ήταν αρκετή για να σε χάσω. Το ξέρω πως ήταν δικό μου το λάθος. Το γνωρίζω. Μα πλέον είναι αργά για συγγνώμες. Ξέρω ότι δεν θα σε ξαναδω ποτέ. Αντίο για παντα λοιπόν... γλυκό μου παπούτσι. (Μου τα φάγανε τελευταίες μέρες! Εορταστικές που είναι τώρα, δεν ντρέπονται! Άσπρο nike, με μπλέ γραμμές. Αν τα δει κανείς εκεί στο παζάρι να τα πουλάνε, να μην το αγοράσει. Μποϊκοτάρετέ το! Αγόρασα τώρα κάτι καινούργια, κινέζικα, στα 4€. Με γειά μου.)