AN: My younger (elder) brother would have been fifty this year.
We lost him in 1999, on his 33rd birthday. It’s one of those things where he remains perpetually frozen at that age, but it hit me this year, as we attended one of our (and his close) friend’s 50th birthday party. I know he hasn’t aged because I miss him every day and every second it feels like I (we) just lost him yesterday.
I only got to (really) know him after I turned 9, he and my older brother had lived in Sri Lanka and India, where they were finishing hight school and going to University. So sometimes, I get petty, and I get mad because I knew him for such a very short time – 10 odd years. Twenty lifetimes is never enough with someone you love.
I think I understand how King Sisyphus felt,
every time he almost conquered that damn rock.
It just rolled back down to where he had first knelt
and prayed this was the last time he took this walk.
Struggling to the end, only to see it all come undone.
Clawing back your need for a fruitless grab,
starting to question if you were the smartest one,
this woeful punishment, that was Zeus’ lasting jab.
Dear King Sisyphus, a deceitful path you created,
a karmic route that rock did follow,
but what I want to know is where I courted,
a dance with this unforgiving shadow.
If you did not mind these words that I spoke,
and if the task is not too herculean,
can the universe stop playing this joke,
where moving on is simply Sisyphean.