Layla, Bring Me To My Knees

Eric Clapton’s most famous song, and arguably the most famous love song ever, Layla, is both addictive and mesmerizing. The song itself might have been born out of his unrequited love for Pattie Boyd, but within this song one can find the true power of the feminine race, making this song fit to be dedicated to all womankind. Nothing captures it more than the chorus:

Layla, you’ve got me on my knees
Layla, I’m begging, darling please
Layla, darling won’t you ease my worried mind?

The strength that women behold under their tender forms has been an enigma all through history, since the time of the cavemen. The very fact that they were the ones who could produce new life made their power something to be afraid of, something overwhelming to men. For their souls could give rise to new ones without causing them any apparent loss. Nature, weird in its sense of justice as always, had hence gifted men the power of the body. For centuries, women and men lived in this equilibrium, and while men were the ones who hunted and held sway over the community, they silently bowed to the feminine race by following the lunar calendar, worshiping them without conceding so.

But no equilibrium lasts forever in human society, and hence men went about proclaiming their superiority by way of politics and religion. Women were branded as mere carriers of seed, and worse, as a source of sin and guilt, a system of belief which is still visible in the tenets of the Roman Catholic Church for all to see, and in the teachings of almost all other faiths at a subtler though definitive level. The women who were revered once upon a time wes banished to the harems, treated as servants, branded as whores and executed as witches. And the men thought they had rid themselves of the power of the feminine race. To this day, that illusion prevails in the minds of most men. Why, most heads of state are men, most CEO’s are men,  the sports that are most popular involve men too!

Oblivious to them, though, women never lost their glory, for they have continued to hold sway over men’s minds. Kings have been led to victory and death by them, urchins have graced glory due to them, and riches have come to naught because of them. The fact that men would never admit they can be controlled by the weaker race of women makes it even easier for them to remain the powerful race they have always been, from behind the curtain for millennia and increasingly so in front of it. Those who know of it view them as a threat, but the reality is that we men have been unfair, very unfair to them. That they’ve managed to fight back despite the woes we’ve given them demonstrates the true power of womankind.

It is only when we fall in love with a woman, and hopelessly so, that we realize her true strength. She overpowers our mind, she controls it till we have no say over it whatsoever. And if she loves us too , she galvanizes our souls and makes it impenetrable for anything life can throw at us. Invincible, except in her presence. It is this overpowering nature of a woman that most men cannot accept, and herein the dreaded male ego comes into play, a sort of resistance that only ends up breaking the bond between man and woman. Heinrich Himmler, the greatest mass-murderer of modern times, is a despicable character to most. Yet even he was in awe of the feminine race at one point, stating in his diary:

A proper man loves a woman on three levels: as a dear child who is to be chided, perhaps even punished on account of her unreasonableness, and who is protected and taken care of because one loves her. Then as wife and as a loyal, understanding comrade who fights through life with one, who stands faithfully at one’s side without hemming in or chaining the man and his spirit. And as a goddess whose feet one must kiss, who gives one strength through her feminine wisdom and childlike, pure sanctity that does not weaken in the hardest struggles and in the ideal hours gives one heavenly peace.

The only way a man can find peace in his life is by giving up this struggle for power with the woman in his life, and letting his inhibitions relating to her bite the dust. If a man truly trusts his woman, then baring his soul and submitting to her presence cannot be a shameful act. We submit to our superiors, people who don’t even care about us, in worse ways. Then why not to the woman we claim to write our lives off to? If you were to ask me, I’d rather lose to her than to any other person in the world. For if you lose to her, there’s little chance you’ll ever lose to anyone else.

Oh Layla, I’m begging on my knees,
Oh Layla
, I surrender at your feet.
Oh Layla, won’t you take me down,
Elevate me to the highest crown?

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About Blabberwock

Blabberer General of Blabberwocky.
This entry was posted in Humanism, Life, Love. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Layla, Bring Me To My Knees

  1. the7new7ramanujan says:

    thanxalot for this post arijit da. i’ve never heard eric clapton before, but ‘layla’ floored me when i played it for the second time and it got to “you’ve got me on my knees” … awesome, i feel the song growing on me. i won’t say ‘best ever’ because opinions differ and everything’s relative, but it’s certainly the thinking man’s love song. i believe every man feels at some point of his life along what you’ve written.

    • Arijit says:

      It’s not the ‘best-ever’ for me, but it definitely is one of the most famous.

      As for the tome of my post, yes, every man who falls head-over-heels in love with a woman feels this way at some level.

  2. Hiya says:

    I’m impressed!

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