This is an excerpt from the private diary of The Protagonist whose unique predicament was discussed in a prior article. The author can neither deny nor confirm the veracity of the narrative that follows.
Yes! On April 17, 2021, a day that I will always look back upon with bewildered awe, I was arrested at around twelve noon in the living room of my own home. The circumstances that led to this point in my life were not entirely within my control but whether I yet again manifested my own destiny and if so towards what end remains to be seen. Also the details of the alleged offence, for which I was being taken away against my will, will have to remain shrouded in mystery until the authorities have concluded their investigations. Hence, let us fast forward past the experience of being handcuffed and led out of the house by a police officer and being subjected to a rather bumpy ride in the back of a police van en route to a detention centre and finally being locked away in a holding cell after all the requisite formalities had been completed. But before we move on, I must say that I was pleasantly surprised by the professionalism of the officers of the London Metropolitan Police and the high standards of the holding cell in terms of comfort, hygiene, lighting, food and drink, and of course being provided a pen and some papers to pen these thoughts.
As I mull upon the events of the morning whilst awaiting further processing I am filled with a sense of calm. It is not a feeling of being at peace which would really made me question my sanity. Rather it is an eerie calm that seems to emanate from the clarity in my mind as to how my immediate future is going to unfold. I have been informed that I could only be held without being charged for a period of twenty four hours and given the nature of the alleged offence, I am quite certain that my detention might not even last for twelve hours.
There certainly is uncertainty as to how the presence of an arrest record will affect me professionally and my ability to maintain my immigration status in the United Kingdom. But one thing is crystal clear: As soon as I am able to get hold of a computer and secure legal advice, I am going to navigate to the appropriate page on the website of Her Majesty’s Courts and Tribunals Service and spend £550 to apply for a divorce. And even though there is the possibility that I might again be separated from my “raison d’etre”, my children, I feel like being suspended in an ocean of serenity. Not adrift but FREE!
Free to chart out my future voyages. Free to be me without being harangued as to how being myself was morally wrong. Free of being obliged to follow the customs and rituals of a social structure that I had always found repressive and confusing. And maybe, just maybe, even being relieved of all my assumed responsibilities by myself!
I pause to reflect upon the most pertinent question that arises from this realisation: Why am I not free?
The simple answer: I am a prisoner of my own dreams; of my ambition to defy conventions nay to challenge them. To image that a mere mortal with limited faculties such as I am could bring about transformational change in another individual who is the very antithesis of myself. Whoever said “Opposites attract!” was blissfully unaware of the end state of said attraction. This attraction at a distance results in mutual annihilation as the distance between the “opposing” individuals reduces through participation in institutions such as marriage. Children further complicate matters by forming indestructible relationships: I will forever be the father of the children that a woman gave birth to. And no matter whether I am or am not that woman’s husband, lover, friend, or foe, we shall forever be bound by our children.
I have struggled against my self incarceration for fourteen long years convinced of my abilities to address any challenge to my resolve to make impossible possible. But in the end nature has prevailed. Thus, on a beautiful sunny Saturday morning, events have transpired — governed by the inviolate rules of causality, that have led to my aforementioned detention by the police and my eminent release from said self incarceration.
As I now bask in the glory of my newfound freedom, I wonder if I have finally learnt my lesson for good. Because, as I watch the sunlight fade through the opaque glass blocks in the ceiling of my detention cell I find these words pouring out of me, trying to seduce me in to giving in yet again to my vanity. I remind myself that while I may indeed be able to free myself from the shackles of yet another failed marriage I shall continue to be a prisoner of few other afflictions: One of being an eternal optimist and the other of being a hopeless romantic.
These words being written in a state of feigned angst at being wrongfully accused and detained are a testament to the enormity of the challenge that I will pose to myself in the near future. On one hand the need for the social structures that I am trying to reject is undeniable and it behooves me to allow my children to benefit from them at least until they are capable of fending for themselves. On the other hand, I am holding the “golden ticket” to the greatest show on earth, My Life, that will allow me to defy conventions with impunity. This choice, fortunately or unfortunately, is the prison from which there is no escape for the living!
But on the bright side, I can now cross off another item on my bucket list — one that I never thought I would be granted the pleasure of experiencing!
The author can confirm that the Protagonist has since been released from detention without any formal charges being levied against him but on conditional bail that has forced him in to exile for the period of twenty six days. Any further developments may or may not be forthcoming. Any and all queries are welcome but may or may not be answered.