A saying goes under the penchant of Mahābhārata in Duryodhana (the book of the assembly hall) that says discontent is the root of fortune; what this can possibly mean? We may never know if Schnittke's sudden convergence to Roman Catholicism in 1982 was merely a conscious resignment for what was to come thereafter (death), but these works are everlasting.. just as they are constantly recurring me with their ambiguous radiance and plagued remorse, here and now with an often ambiguous sense of ghast which reflects bitterly upon reflections of a man's past regrets.
What lives here in the present tense, but which is truly holy? Our wishes, Orthodox 'please distance wishes.. pessimist, with no future and time at all gift as repentance... For trasitory mistakes buried please grant a promise to acquire finality. Rest in peace, Alfred........
