On Acknowledgement

Eh? That’s no Nestle chocolate. My writing is Wrigleys gum. The more you chew/read, the more it bhayanakly stretches forever, sentence after sentence, para after para, sweat after sweat with no nigh end. You might acquire prescription glasses if you ever reach the end. Beware!

 

With no banter thread for snippets column, Cheeniya, I am compelled to respond in situ to your friend's unexceptional consequence of his lettered hope. Intrigued, why didn't he write another letter to the same woman or the other. Why put a sock to his venturesome romance. I don't like this "middle-class" ending reinforcing that Murakami's portrayal in 'Men Without Women'.

“When I thought of how I’d been living, how I’d been approaching life, it was all so trite, so miserably pointless. Unimaginative middle-class rubbish, and I wanted to gather it all up and stuff it away in some drawer. Or else light it on fire and watch it go up in smoke (though what kind of smoke it would emit I had no idea).”

― Haruki Murakami, Men Without Women​

Why do men having lost the aspired women swim with despair in the nondescript and middle-class vortex, washing up at an uneventful shore eventually. He should have written another letter, to her or to someone, but not forsaken. Brahma would have faulted him, dude, I entrusted so much Camlin ink on you, but you prematurely retracted.

 

As you did suspect, the girl had likely fibbed; just testing to see if he had the gumption to come back with a new offer.
If he wrote again, what would he use?... that old dependable dog-ate-my-paper routine ?:

Thank you for your kind letter of yesterday. Unfortunately before I could get to it, Rex got a hold of it, and ran away with it. So far, I had exhumed 6 half chewed bones, and one partly decomposed finch (I think). No luck with reg to your letter. What should I do now .... yada yada ?​

 

To The Third Bench Spectacles,

Your rebuff to my minced letter was delightfully read last night. I was vaguely fond of you till yesterday but your refusal flattered me of my instincts for having chosen a woman who unwittingly resolved within me the contention, since, of chasing her, as only the headstrong airs enthrall me than easy pickings who would have readily accepted me. Of all the lovely juliets in the college, did you ever wonder why I set my eyes upon this witty beatrice? Romeo and Juliet hastily swung into each other's love over the balcony and groomed ivy. Why would that unfussy and conciliatory juliet even endear me on tantalizingly outwitted by a beatrice, who keeled the chivalry to introspect my own feelings for her by outright declining my move on her.

Last night, over those neatly torn scraps of my letter (glad! you used scissors and didn't exert your fingers), I mulled on my feelings.

I am smitten by the way you hushingly sound in the corridors after attending Mr Sharma's class, "That old coot is such a bore about chemistry". Might not be regarded as the binding appeal to adore someone but an outstanding reason to approach you for mutually despising the chemistry lecture. I like the way you mock the Physics lecturer in good spirit to his conceding last week that your mockery is the best imitation by his mischievous students. There are other well-worn reasons, like, you look cute even with no dimples, but they aren't unique to you as those indomitable antics charming on you. That is you, and that is the woman I have written to ...

Though I only like you so far and not crazy about you, I hold you as that woman who could, possibly, drive me crazy about her. I am taking that chance (again!) with you. I am risking my feelings (furthermore!) in you.

If you can faintly contemplate notwithstanding the uncertain emergence of future for us, that infinitesimal sway to be honored by me as only a goodwill and curious leap on your part of only acquainting with me further beyond my scruffy handwritten and ripped letters, and never hurriedly misrepresenting your anticipated gesture as you sprouting mutual interest in me too overnight, should bring you for 5 pm coffee at the canteen. Keep me waiting but don't stand me up.

Your Repeat,
Fifth Bench Five-Eleven Lad

 

A simple aknowledgement starting from pressing'like' button to philosophical quotes ,now is in the 'romantic'mood revealing shringara rasa.This is what metamorphosis is all about.
jayasala 42

 

jaya,
When that five-11-lad's love is totally requitted, he'd be lyrical in the English of Porgy and sing to his Bess (Beatrice?) <Caution: Clicking the hyperlink below would launch an American Opera>:

Bess, You Is My Woman Now,
You Is, You Is!
An' You Mus' Laugh An' Sing An' Dance
For Two Instead Of One.​

 

@Rihana, an awesome snippet on the joy of receiving acknowledgement. Validation is everything. A simple "I hear you" is often all that's needed.

There is also tremendous value in being the person who acknowledges others. Acknowledging brings with it a healthy sense of gratitude. Acknowledging our roots and the people who helped us get to wherever we are grounds us.

Computers have brought with them a whole new world of communications requiring acknowledgement. Emails, text messages, even posts on forums like IL need receipts in the form of blue checks and likes.

In a world of personal lawsuits, acknowledging that you may have accidentally caused injury to a fellow human being and apologizing could seriously damage your bank balance. The reason I don't apologize however has nothing to do with fear of being sued. It's because I love everybody and "love means never having to say you're sorry."

.​