“ I never knowed how clothes could change a body
before. “
Dear
Huck,
Haven’t
you been introduced to the best clothing? In your moments of peacefulness on
Jackson’s Island – that “deserted stretch of land in the middle of the river”- or on that place you call home, the raft. Haven’t you worn that precious
piece when you were all naked in the nature celebrating your freedom? Have you
known only weeping as an externalization of your emotions?
Smiling
- for or for no reason and as long as it is beaming from the heart- is the best
accessory anyone can have. It is an ornament. It is a gift from the inner self
to the rest of the world that you can always offer; and it always shines back
to you.
Between
the temporary satisfaction and the bitter loneliness that follows it; have you
never given a place to it? Have you never given your heart anything besides
that wish to die? Or have you been cruel to yourself just like you have been
harsh on criticizing society? Shall I now be addressing Twain, the creator of
Huckleberry and the one who “told the truth”?
What a hideous truth! What a distorted image
of childhood!
Void
of that smile.. That beautiful smile.. That innocent smile.
Why
have you enwrapped yourself with this black veil of cold emotions?
Death
in every imagined story you tell to people or are those desires? Longing for a
family.. Then reality crushes it and it is destroyed. All goes back to demise
by the end.
Your
childhood has been killed too even though you have been mentally growing
throughout your long adventures. You have been taken by the stream of the
Mississippi river but also by the stream of experience. You have grown
accustomed to cruelty but at the same time introvert with the way you keep
silent on what your eyes meets and senses feel. At the same time, you are entrusting
us as readers to decipher your silence which speaks louder than words.
What
shocks the eye makes the tongue speechless and saddens the heart . You do not
prefer to be naked at this stage and reveal your true feelings; but rather hide
behind that well-forged gate of hushed musings and unbearable lonesomeness.
Nonetheless,
you cannot fake it. Dear Huck, you cannot fake it.
You
have failed in dressing up and acting as a girl. Even though, you are a “mighty
good” trickster, the lady knew you are but a fraud. You can but be yourself,
you can be but bare naked to the truth that you will have to endure dangers
alone. You will have to know the true nature of people.
Unmask them. Look beyond their surfaces to
their rigid soulless beings and aimless lives.
Empty
mob.
Huck.. That disguise was worthless and so are
appearances. They are phony. They are deceiving. They are valueless in front of
the potency of that very smile I have been strangling you with since the
beginning. I reckon you are estranged to it.
That’s what would make me “ashamed of the human race”.
So,
try it. Wear it.
You too dear reader, wear it.
