As a child I had had the experience of seeing two wars with our neighboring countries, well seeing would not be right, experiencing is the better word, hearing bombs being dropped close by and tanks rolling through the city, planes flying low. I wondered much later at the futility of it all. But to get back to idealism , from a young age I was idealistic and wanted to change the world, wanted the world to be a place worth living in for each and every living being, Utopia would be nice, thank you. I had some very intelligent friends who were quite cynical( too much intelligence does that), and it made me cynical for a while, but we are ultimately shaped by our own personal experiences,so my idealism prevailed.To make matters worse the school motto had been changed from "Play The Game" to "Others" just about the time I entered the new school.Serious stuff... Others.
I somehow knew I had it in me to bring about some change,it may not be earth shaking but perhaps would have a rippling effect, but I did not for the life of me know what IT would be.
During my early working years I was as never before exposed to corruption, scheming, lies, and all that one requires into trying to get ahead in life more smartly than the other. I did not ... get ahead, although I was as ambitious as anyone else, perhaps a bit more. I knew I had it in me, but the system does not allow for people to be forthright,truthful and straight and disillusionment came faster than I expected. I plodded on nonetheless not without a lot of struggle. I had to be told ever so often to hold on to my job. Maybe I should have listened to my inner voice, I never fitted into the gossipy women brigade or the corrupt practices many others indulged in, but I survived. For many years. Sometime when I look back I am amazed that I actually did. During all this time my idealism was crushed underfoot, the world was not turning out to be as I had thought it would be. I grew up.
Around me the world was changing at a frantic pace, materialism had made its inroads and commercialism was everywhere. Everyone was in a hurry to get THERE.I sometimes wondered what the hurry was, one DID have the rest of one's life to get there, but this thought could be put down to the disillusionment with my working life.Be that as it may, what I noticed that although people were getting on and getting there, something else was happening alongside.Tagore's dream for true freedom was in shambles. Everywhere I looked I saw people who had become pygmies in within their "narrow domestic walls". Caste and creed was more important than being human. The relevance of age old norms were not being questioned, blind following in the name of tradition and culture was the norm, and if anything was questioned it was quickly shushed down. We were progressing, the country was important in the international arena, our voices were heard globally, but as a people we were mired into a quicksand of beliefs from which I for one could not see any way out. I have always been an avid reader, I turned to Indian authors to fathom their thoughts. As a city person, reading about the horrors which exist in villages even today saddened me to an extent which I cannot start to explain. I cried bitter tears at the degradation of this land. Helpless bitter tears, helpless because I could not do a thing about it, only assuage my guilt with some miserable giving to charity. There were people out there working for change quietly and making it happen too. Why was I so helpless? Was giving to some charity or other all I could do? Was I helping at all? I knew I was not... working towards my own comfortable life and like most people turning a blind eye to the child at the signal selling flowers or the young girl washing dishes in somebody's house or the many incidents of dowry deaths reported in newspapers or the apathy of the bureaucracy or the corrupt police force or or or.... the list is endless. Why had my idealism turned into apathy and where was that 18 year old who wanted to change the world, change the way people thought so that the "clear stream of reason" made for an enlightened and progressive society? Had my reasoning and thought been crushed so that all I could do was watch and weep for my motherland? I did not think so but that WAS the reality. I told someone much wiser (than I could ever hope to be) that I wanted to actually work with people who were less fortunate, be the change as it were. I was told that I was already doing that, that by working at my job and giving some of the proceeds for those that needed them, I and so many others like me were actually giving of our toil. I accepted what I was told,accepted it, but my fervor did not die.
A strange restlessness has been brewing within me for the last five years or so. And now the time is coming to do do my bit to fulfill Tagore's legacy,his dream for an enlightened and free India, an India which at its pinnacle gave us our Vedas, the Bhagvad Geeta and the Upanishads. An India which was accepting of all faiths and because of which her cultural heritage is rich and vibrant. An India which shines not in pockets of the rich but in the smiles of the downtrodden, an India for which our forefathers martyred themselves, a freedom which is attainable if only each one thinks with clarity and acts with the conviction. It is a mammoth task but then even the cloth I wear now was once a cotton seed.
It won't be long now.
Sunday, 29 July 2012
FREEDOM ATTAINED?
Where The Mind is Without Fear
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought
and action--
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
-- Rabindranath Tagore
I had read this poem when I was in the ninth class, it was a part of the English curriculum. It had an instant effect, a deep connection almost to the very soul. Teenage is a time when the mind is the most impressionable,ideas surge forth and the personality slowly starts its very own assertion. I read it often and each time
it touched me more deeply.
When one is young one's worldview is limited, it is the view of a child/adult one who has to yet step out, one who is protected by the peripheries of ones family and school. There is much to read,more to enjoy with friends and family and an awful lot of study to do. I too went out for movies, plays, holidays and did a bit of study in between. Our head was always high, we were truthful to a fault, we strove for perfection in our own ways, not necessarily in the ways our parents and teachers would have wanted but that makes another story.Our minds were not without fear, many of us had mortal fear of the various tests and exams and the results which followed.Knowledge was not free but then there has always been a tuition fees, after all we were modern young teenagers, not living in Vedic times weren't we? So then why was Tagore praying for a freedom which we had already attained. I mulled over this often and could not come up with the answer.
In time I forgot about the poem,it remained in some corner of my mind but did not surface again.
Graduation happened and the search to find a job. Another goal which was achieved after some struggle. That was when the real growing up began. It was not as if I had lived in a cocoon as a child, the difference was that now we were the part of the young work force with ideas and opinions which, of course, were always right and which we passionately discussed and put forth.
Slowly but surely the world around me became more apparent with all it inequalities,the dead habits" which I remembered hazily showed themselves, and the ideal picture started dissolving into a larger canvas of corruption inequality disparity. The idealistic bubble however refused to burst.
To be contd... tonight most probably.
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought
and action--
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
-- Rabindranath Tagore
I had read this poem when I was in the ninth class, it was a part of the English curriculum. It had an instant effect, a deep connection almost to the very soul. Teenage is a time when the mind is the most impressionable,ideas surge forth and the personality slowly starts its very own assertion. I read it often and each time
it touched me more deeply.
When one is young one's worldview is limited, it is the view of a child/adult one who has to yet step out, one who is protected by the peripheries of ones family and school. There is much to read,more to enjoy with friends and family and an awful lot of study to do. I too went out for movies, plays, holidays and did a bit of study in between. Our head was always high, we were truthful to a fault, we strove for perfection in our own ways, not necessarily in the ways our parents and teachers would have wanted but that makes another story.Our minds were not without fear, many of us had mortal fear of the various tests and exams and the results which followed.Knowledge was not free but then there has always been a tuition fees, after all we were modern young teenagers, not living in Vedic times weren't we? So then why was Tagore praying for a freedom which we had already attained. I mulled over this often and could not come up with the answer.
In time I forgot about the poem,it remained in some corner of my mind but did not surface again.
Graduation happened and the search to find a job. Another goal which was achieved after some struggle. That was when the real growing up began. It was not as if I had lived in a cocoon as a child, the difference was that now we were the part of the young work force with ideas and opinions which, of course, were always right and which we passionately discussed and put forth.
Slowly but surely the world around me became more apparent with all it inequalities,the dead habits" which I remembered hazily showed themselves, and the ideal picture started dissolving into a larger canvas of corruption inequality disparity. The idealistic bubble however refused to burst.
To be contd... tonight most probably.
Friday, 6 July 2012
Apology
This is an apology to all those who commented on my posts. I have inadvertently managed to delete all the comments. The loss is mine. Very sorry about it.
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
Morning Visitor
The Mynah bird screeches squawks
I have not seen him very often
of late I hear him
He shows himself today.
Shouting on the railing
Is he asking for food?
They came a few months ago
Several of them
Arguing on the branches
Outside my balcony
After a gap of three decades
Almost.
What a surprise it was to see them
in the midst of only crows and pigeons
and the occasional parrot.
The sparrows have all but gone.
I see one sometimes in three months.
Welcome my little mynah bird
Would that you could survive the towers
the small sparrow
gave up long ago.
I have not seen him very often
of late I hear him
He shows himself today.
Shouting on the railing
Is he asking for food?
They came a few months ago
Several of them
Arguing on the branches
Outside my balcony
After a gap of three decades
Almost.
What a surprise it was to see them
in the midst of only crows and pigeons
and the occasional parrot.
The sparrows have all but gone.
I see one sometimes in three months.
Welcome my little mynah bird
Would that you could survive the towers
the small sparrow
gave up long ago.
Monday, 14 May 2012
Storms.
Just the other day I was talking to my nephew in Delhi ans he said the dust storm blowing all around was threatening to leave inches of dust inside despite the closed windows. Took me back in time, this seems to be happening a bit often nowadays.
We lived in Chandigarh when I was a child until Dad was transferred to ( the then ) Bombay. An idyllic life, as most small town lives tend to be. Nothing much ever happens, as a child you go to school ,play, study, go for an outing to the lake or the market at the center of town, which is the MOST happening place, where nothing ever happens; and of course the occasional movie.
The innate charm of Chandigarh most decidedly is that it is a well planned city and nature is as visible as man made constructions. The homes have well kept gardens, and parks for children to play are abundant.
Weather changes have been occurring all over the world and it must be the same in the town of my childhood.
As a child I was unaware of these. There were the three main seasons summer winter and the rainy, it was never the monsoon then. One hot , the other freezing cold when electric heaters were the norm and the rains which were gave much needed respite from the summer heat.
Then there were the the storms. There were many towards the end of summer, most of these accompanied by gale force winds often but not always rain cooling the atmosphere with the suddenness of their arrival.
One afternoon Mom came on the porch and yelled "KALI AANDHI, GO INSIDE! " It was the middle of the afternoon. Mom suddenly remembered the mangoes, they would have been ruined in the rain, so we all made a dash towards the trees, while the help ran upstairs to collect the drying clothes. The wind was blowing stronger and we were collecting as many mangoes as was possible before the downpour. It was getting less bright and Mom pointed out the scene to us. At the far horizon it was DARK and it was coming closer, striding running almost sprinting to cover the entire town. When Mom had shouted the warning, I had instinctively understood the urgency in her voice but not what the content of the words, having never experienced a black storm. And my word! Within minutes the wind-speed increased to frock raising, tree swaying levels, the latter almost bent from the effort of protecting themselves from the unnatural onslaught. The bright afternoon light changed to evening then twilight to pitch dark all in almost a blink of the eye. The darkness which was evident in the far horizon overtook all the houses. And then it started raining. Incessant impenetrable sheets pouring down in the night / afternoon. No thunder or lightening, just darkness and rain.Then as suddenly as it appeared it stopped. The garden and the porch waterlogged and the atmosphere cool.We were inside with candles lit in the face of the darkness, as the electricity had gone as usual, the rains and the winds had played havoc with the electrical system.
The darkness remained for about a quarter of an hour, and as suddenly as it had showed up, vanished into the blue. From light to dark and back to light in a spate of a few short minutes. Incredible!
We lived in Chandigarh when I was a child until Dad was transferred to ( the then ) Bombay. An idyllic life, as most small town lives tend to be. Nothing much ever happens, as a child you go to school ,play, study, go for an outing to the lake or the market at the center of town, which is the MOST happening place, where nothing ever happens; and of course the occasional movie.
The innate charm of Chandigarh most decidedly is that it is a well planned city and nature is as visible as man made constructions. The homes have well kept gardens, and parks for children to play are abundant.
Weather changes have been occurring all over the world and it must be the same in the town of my childhood.
As a child I was unaware of these. There were the three main seasons summer winter and the rainy, it was never the monsoon then. One hot , the other freezing cold when electric heaters were the norm and the rains which were gave much needed respite from the summer heat.
Then there were the the storms. There were many towards the end of summer, most of these accompanied by gale force winds often but not always rain cooling the atmosphere with the suddenness of their arrival.
One afternoon Mom came on the porch and yelled "KALI AANDHI, GO INSIDE! " It was the middle of the afternoon. Mom suddenly remembered the mangoes, they would have been ruined in the rain, so we all made a dash towards the trees, while the help ran upstairs to collect the drying clothes. The wind was blowing stronger and we were collecting as many mangoes as was possible before the downpour. It was getting less bright and Mom pointed out the scene to us. At the far horizon it was DARK and it was coming closer, striding running almost sprinting to cover the entire town. When Mom had shouted the warning, I had instinctively understood the urgency in her voice but not what the content of the words, having never experienced a black storm. And my word! Within minutes the wind-speed increased to frock raising, tree swaying levels, the latter almost bent from the effort of protecting themselves from the unnatural onslaught. The bright afternoon light changed to evening then twilight to pitch dark all in almost a blink of the eye. The darkness which was evident in the far horizon overtook all the houses. And then it started raining. Incessant impenetrable sheets pouring down in the night / afternoon. No thunder or lightening, just darkness and rain.Then as suddenly as it appeared it stopped. The garden and the porch waterlogged and the atmosphere cool.We were inside with candles lit in the face of the darkness, as the electricity had gone as usual, the rains and the winds had played havoc with the electrical system.
The darkness remained for about a quarter of an hour, and as suddenly as it had showed up, vanished into the blue. From light to dark and back to light in a spate of a few short minutes. Incredible!
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Ambition and Aspirations
I am content with my mediocrity.
When I observe people around me wanting to be the best, wanting to be someone special in a world which says that one just has to excel, has to be noticed, has to leave their stamp, I wonder if I am a complete misfit.
There world's population has reached to the point where after a while we may be treading on each others toes while we standing. Most people are born live their lives and then die unsung, remembered by a few of their dear ones for a few years. That has been the case for eons, for every Ceaser there were thousands of the citizens of Rome, for every Gandhi they were the freedom fighters who gave up their lives but have been lost to time.We remember those that made a difference, who shaped history,but the common people who were as necessary for history to be made are long forgotten.
I see my maids cooking or cleaning for me, their lives have relevance and if I can make them smile or laugh, give some respite to their hard lives, I feel a sense of achievement, if not that then at least momentary fulfillment. I see people walking on the streets on the way to their work, a part of the multitude who have to labor just for the preservation of their family and their lives. There are children who beg on the roads and are seemingly happy with their lives, they must be as happy or sad as anyone else. They do not seem to have any other aspirations. Its not the same with the maids though.They earn a living and definitely have ambitions, not so much for themselves as much as for their children, they are not literate but want the next generation to do better than them. As people go higher up the economic ladder, ambitions and aspirations are bound to rise too.
A comfortable childhood would necessarily lead to the same in adulthood or then even better under some circumstances. I had one. There was no reason for any discontent but then there was never pressure for being excellent like there is nowadays.If I was within the first ten in my class of forty plus I was happy, if among the first five it felt better. There was only one time when I dipped to thirteenth and that was the bluest day of my life. Then there was one time when I came first and my happiness knew no bounds.But again there was never any innate need to repeat this.
Much later as a young adult, I wanted to change the world, which now I see was nothing extraordinary, youth have this kind conviction and we really think we can make a difference at that stage. It is only when we start working and get caught up in our family lives and just get on with living, that these convictions take a back seat and personal ambitions take over. It was the same with me, but about that a bit later.
Just as an aside, on weekends sometimes we used to go as a family to visit temples. I remember visits to Mumbadevi, Mahalakshmi and Babulnath clearly. The crowds of people praying and the asking for some wish fulfillment, I would stand there bemused seeing all those people, what and why were they asking all the time? And for quite a while after that I became an atheist, could not understand we had to always beg for mercy pray for favors. It changed much later.
So to get back to my personal ambitions I did see quite soon that I quite keen in my grasp, maybe a trifle more compared to my peers, could get to the crux of many issues and find solutions quite easily, the logical part of my brain helped a lot. I also realized that I was ambitious, and wanted to get somewhere. Soon enough it dawned on me that it was not up to me at all.People don't like other people who may be a bit more intelligent specially if they are competing for the first place.And then I also understood that what I lacked was the killer instinct, and the lack of interest to make a dedicated effort toward excellence. If I had had that perhaps it would have been different. I still strive for perfection and when I see that I have not done as well as I could it bothers me. Over the years I have come to terms with the fact that I will not be going any further. Perhaps that has resulted in looking at the younger generation and giving them some tips, and it has given me even greater satisfaction when they go ahead. If I have played a negligible role in someones progress that is enough for me. A compromise perhaps but worth the effort.
I also know now that I am just another person among millions, not among the top ten percent of the achievers but the ninety who live their lives their lives simply and die quietly. What amuses me is that there are so many in this category who in their little groups or cliques still want to be noticed looked at and generally be 'top dog',have some power over the few people that they know and revel in it. Another expression of ambition perhaps and of the self definitely, because we consider ourselves important to ourselves and therefore to others so we MUST have some way to have a hold over them and make ourselves feel better.
Right now all I aspire for is someone to come and help me clean my cupboard.Don't really want to make an effort.
When I observe people around me wanting to be the best, wanting to be someone special in a world which says that one just has to excel, has to be noticed, has to leave their stamp, I wonder if I am a complete misfit.
There world's population has reached to the point where after a while we may be treading on each others toes while we standing. Most people are born live their lives and then die unsung, remembered by a few of their dear ones for a few years. That has been the case for eons, for every Ceaser there were thousands of the citizens of Rome, for every Gandhi they were the freedom fighters who gave up their lives but have been lost to time.We remember those that made a difference, who shaped history,but the common people who were as necessary for history to be made are long forgotten.
I see my maids cooking or cleaning for me, their lives have relevance and if I can make them smile or laugh, give some respite to their hard lives, I feel a sense of achievement, if not that then at least momentary fulfillment. I see people walking on the streets on the way to their work, a part of the multitude who have to labor just for the preservation of their family and their lives. There are children who beg on the roads and are seemingly happy with their lives, they must be as happy or sad as anyone else. They do not seem to have any other aspirations. Its not the same with the maids though.They earn a living and definitely have ambitions, not so much for themselves as much as for their children, they are not literate but want the next generation to do better than them. As people go higher up the economic ladder, ambitions and aspirations are bound to rise too.
A comfortable childhood would necessarily lead to the same in adulthood or then even better under some circumstances. I had one. There was no reason for any discontent but then there was never pressure for being excellent like there is nowadays.If I was within the first ten in my class of forty plus I was happy, if among the first five it felt better. There was only one time when I dipped to thirteenth and that was the bluest day of my life. Then there was one time when I came first and my happiness knew no bounds.But again there was never any innate need to repeat this.
Much later as a young adult, I wanted to change the world, which now I see was nothing extraordinary, youth have this kind conviction and we really think we can make a difference at that stage. It is only when we start working and get caught up in our family lives and just get on with living, that these convictions take a back seat and personal ambitions take over. It was the same with me, but about that a bit later.
Just as an aside, on weekends sometimes we used to go as a family to visit temples. I remember visits to Mumbadevi, Mahalakshmi and Babulnath clearly. The crowds of people praying and the asking for some wish fulfillment, I would stand there bemused seeing all those people, what and why were they asking all the time? And for quite a while after that I became an atheist, could not understand we had to always beg for mercy pray for favors. It changed much later.
So to get back to my personal ambitions I did see quite soon that I quite keen in my grasp, maybe a trifle more compared to my peers, could get to the crux of many issues and find solutions quite easily, the logical part of my brain helped a lot. I also realized that I was ambitious, and wanted to get somewhere. Soon enough it dawned on me that it was not up to me at all.People don't like other people who may be a bit more intelligent specially if they are competing for the first place.And then I also understood that what I lacked was the killer instinct, and the lack of interest to make a dedicated effort toward excellence. If I had had that perhaps it would have been different. I still strive for perfection and when I see that I have not done as well as I could it bothers me. Over the years I have come to terms with the fact that I will not be going any further. Perhaps that has resulted in looking at the younger generation and giving them some tips, and it has given me even greater satisfaction when they go ahead. If I have played a negligible role in someones progress that is enough for me. A compromise perhaps but worth the effort.
I also know now that I am just another person among millions, not among the top ten percent of the achievers but the ninety who live their lives their lives simply and die quietly. What amuses me is that there are so many in this category who in their little groups or cliques still want to be noticed looked at and generally be 'top dog',have some power over the few people that they know and revel in it. Another expression of ambition perhaps and of the self definitely, because we consider ourselves important to ourselves and therefore to others so we MUST have some way to have a hold over them and make ourselves feel better.
Right now all I aspire for is someone to come and help me clean my cupboard.Don't really want to make an effort.
Sunday, 6 May 2012
Still Searching.
The turmoil returns again, it tears up my very being. I dither between reality and imagination. What is happening around me is reality but my imagination of the reality, is itreal or just a story made by my restless mind? I get a sock in the face whenever I confront it, don't want to believe what I imagine to be true. Return to practical reasonable thought and be what I am in normal circumstances.But reason fails and once again the soul is tormented. Is it coincidental or just a natural progression of events, I will never know. I try to find answers in the sequence of occurrences. The turn of events shatter self belief.
The bonds we share the relations built over time, will they all come to naught? They will, of course in the end when we leave the body. One hears of soul mates and marriages made in Heaven, all ordained by some higher being. Do we then have no say in the events because it was already written by 'the moving finger' which 'having writ moves on'. And we are left to transcribe and play out what it wrote, helpless in the face of circumstances over which we have no control.
Why does this turmoil continue to torment my soul? I try to find the answers but sometimes reason becomes unreasonable, as I watch what happens around me. And does the entire responsibility rest with me? I don't know but I am determined to find the answer, I may not, this I am aware of . It requires calmness of mind and now the mind is not of this, it requires reasonable thought but the reigns of the mind have been let loose and thoughts gallop so fast that control becomes impossible.There has to be clarity but a fog of emotions surround me, clear thinking recedes. It will come back soon but the turmoil shall return too. Memories will erupt from the depths of brain and conscious thought will wrestle with reason once again.
The bonds we share the relations built over time, will they all come to naught? They will, of course in the end when we leave the body. One hears of soul mates and marriages made in Heaven, all ordained by some higher being. Do we then have no say in the events because it was already written by 'the moving finger' which 'having writ moves on'. And we are left to transcribe and play out what it wrote, helpless in the face of circumstances over which we have no control.
Why does this turmoil continue to torment my soul? I try to find the answers but sometimes reason becomes unreasonable, as I watch what happens around me. And does the entire responsibility rest with me? I don't know but I am determined to find the answer, I may not, this I am aware of . It requires calmness of mind and now the mind is not of this, it requires reasonable thought but the reigns of the mind have been let loose and thoughts gallop so fast that control becomes impossible.There has to be clarity but a fog of emotions surround me, clear thinking recedes. It will come back soon but the turmoil shall return too. Memories will erupt from the depths of brain and conscious thought will wrestle with reason once again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)