"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."
- T.S. Eliot, Preface to Harry Crosby, Transit of Venus (1931), p. ix.
It was a gala party. So many guests, all grinning at one another, greeting with joy and at places hugging despite the envy.
At the table in a corner, we three sat boozing after eavesdropping at random tables on a lot of ludicrous gossips.
The angel and the devil too, due to the lack of coherence to discuss any interesting subject as we boozed, took to deliberate on the idea of my marriage.
"How sweet of your human friends, at each table as they greeted you, they were all concerned of your marriage."
"But how does your marriage concern them all? Seems like it is an easy, lazy conversation starter."
"Best to ignore it, we humans just tend to feed on the gossips of others' lives as we loaf around in such parties."
As we had more pegs the angel and the devil too, like those success-coaches, told me to surmount my fear and take a leap of faith.
"Maybe they were all right. You are afraid. Afraid of getting married. And hence succumb and fret your days in loneliness."
"Maybe they were all afraid. Afraid of having to live alone and succumbed to that pressure and surrendered to marriage."
"Maybe like them all, we three are also on a high and unnecessarily philosophizing another civilizational social convention which could well be followed for thousand various reasons in various cases."
