My Literary Indulgences...

Thank you all for coming today. It is true, my father didn't have many friends in life and even among those, there were so few who kept in touch. They're not entirely to blame as he did lead a rather eccentric life and even I, his only son, had difficulties keeping up with him a lot of times. I'm sure all of you have felt the same at some point. However, here we are because we all loved him. Today, I'd like to say a few words about him and his life, in hopes that you'd find explanations as I did, and that you find closure as I did. If there is a land of immortals on earth, it is this, or rather any library in this world, for monuments whither, and deeds are forgotten, but the written word survives ages. The irony then, of having a wake at a library is not lost on me, and that is what I first regarded the idea as, just one of his witty jokes, his most eccentric and final. But then I went on a journey, of the times and conditions in which he grew up, what he faced, f...

Before the first bout, ringside His words cut through chaos “Do good work”, said Coach Seemed a good place to start - Simple words of encouragement. Alas, this life mocks simplicity. Stepping into the battleground Hubris made me wonder It’ll yield to me, kneel to me I hop, spring, take a swing I miss spectacularly, and Take a loaded glove square. Bashed bloody and senseless Here I lie on the mat Hands up, shielding in vain Trying to survive in the game A question burning hot How do I survive this barrage? For as I take in cheap shots, And the jeering from the crowds, And the debilitating self doubt, And the crushing fear of defeat, In these monstrously unjust odds, How do I “do good work”?