Last Walk is the Fastest II

In the first part of this, I mentioned how Gabo described the last jounrney of Don Simno Bolivar. Gabo ended the book with the following:

"He examined the room with the clairvoyance of his last days, and for the first time he saw the truth: the final borrowed bed, the pitiful dressing table whose clouded, patient mirror would not reflect his image again, the chipped porcelain washbasin with the water and towel and soap meant for other hands, the heartless speed of the octagonal clock racing toward the ineluctable appointment at seven minutes past one on his final afternoon of December 17..... through the window he saw the diamond of Venus in the sky that was dying forever, the eternal snows, the new vine whose yellow bellflowers he would not see bloom on the following Saturday in the house closed in mourning, the final brilliance of life that would never, through all eternity, be repeated again."

Gabo was writing on behalf of the Don; so he can make it look as if the Don knew everything. (What is centain, however, is what the Don said while summarizing the extraordinary saga of his life towards the end of it: He who serves a revolution plows the sea). But life is different; no one lives the same life twice, and so none of us knows in advance when we meet someone for the last time, the last time we exchange a few words with someone.

Maybe that is life's curse; but maybe, that's its blessing too!