Our own versions of reality

An experience I had on my visit to a shrine .. almost an epiphany of sorts ..

I am not a temple goer, but MomDad talked me into taking the journey with them and I conceded thinking it will make them happy and I will get to travel in the mountains. We were standing in the huge crowd waiting for dad to pass the frisking so we could start the trek up a hill. Suddenly someone collided with me from behind, so strongly that I almost fell down. Perturbed by the unwarranted collision, I turned around to face the person almost thinking to myself “Does he not have eyes?” What I saw stunned me – it was a 13-14 years old boy indeed blind from both eyes. I felt pity for him not because he was blind, but because of my perception that he must be having a diminishing sense of self-worth when he realized how he had no control when he collided with people and objects on the road.
At that time, all I could feel was deep sympathy for the boy, anger for his mother who was so carelessly dragging him in the midst of the crowd and most of all, a flood of questions about the whole purpose of visiting shrines when we turn a blind eye to the problems staring us in the eye, knowing that we can solve those, that we are empowered to some extent to help ourselves. I saw really old people, incapable of undergoing such arduous journey being carried up on stretchers. I saw people carrying their little ones, less than one year old, all the way up. Babies were sleeping on their elders’ shoulders but their necks were hanging on one side throughout the journey. Why cause such discomfort to the little ones? For what? For a glimpse of an idol? Well, you could just look at your baby if you seek a glimpse of God! That boy’s mother was dragging him may be because she thought that taking her blind son to the shrine will probably make his life better in some way, but what about that collision with me? Who could even fathom what might have gone through the boy’s mind when he collided with me? How did he feel? Was it really necessary to bring him there? I have to say. No. All he needed was loving care of his mother and an acceptance of him the way he was. I think 90% of our problems can be solved if we start respecting and accepting what we already have.
This much for my feelings then which hinged around our problems and our resistance to them.

But in retrospect, I was taken aback by the realization of how easily and how often we form perceptions about things and derive our important decisions, opinions and reactions based on these perceptions which can be (and often are) unthinkably remote from reality. How narrow our thinking really is. Perhaps, this is not the best example because no one would expect a sudden collision with a blind person but it was a jolting experience for me and I will explain why. I find two things most notable. One, I never considered the possibility that the person who collided with me could indeed be blind. Two, I felt pity for him thinking that he might really have felt bad to have collided with a stranger. That such a child’s sense of self-worth and self-esteem will erode with every such collision he will have. I had a strong urge to stop his mother and tell her how I felt, but it happened too fast for me to digest it and do anything about it. These were my perceptions which clouded my judgment and made me feel pity for the child. May be she was also clouded by her perceptions of her son's blindness being a big problem. If both of us keep sticking to our perceptions, I keep feeling pity and she keeps feeling unrest about the boy's blindness, who will listen to him. May be he doesn't think it is all that problematic, you know, but if only we let him be. If only we stop creating our own versions of reality. May be he can get an operation and get his eyesight back, and if he cannot, it might not be as big a problem, after all, as we make it to be.

We are too quick to conclude and perceive. Too egoistic to believe in those conclusions and perceptions. And these 2 things feed all our problems. All this can’t be too difficult to realize. All we have to do is look within or an easier way out, visit a shrine up a mountain. It’s like we are faced with a disturbing situation, we perceive it as unpleasant/problematic and quickly conclude that it should not be happening. Then what follows is the “reaction” that manifests itself in the form of thoughts, words and doings. Karma.

So much for the human intelligence!

God knows I want to break free!

Bura jo dekhan main chala

Sometimes certain words just resonate with you & linger for the whole day or sometimes even for days together. These have been with me since morning:

Bura Jo Dekhan Main Chala, Bura Naa Milya Koye
Jo Munn Khoja Apnaa, To Mujhse Bura Naa Koye

- Kabirdaas

Everything I am, I am now

Everything I am, I am now
I am not my past, neither am I my future
I am now, and that’s all I am
For if I can’t be now, where else could I be
I have no abode, but in the now
I don’t exist anywhere, but in the now
That’s how small, yet profound my existence is

Homeward bound

Time for some rambling I suppose. I am writing this on my way to Chandigarh on the Delhi- Chandigarh high way. A typical hot Indian summer day, sun burning golden and yellow in the skies making everything outside look droopy and fatigued, bushes on the highway divider, trees, construction workers on the side road, and thick black twisted high tension cables crossing over poles every few feet away but sagging to dangerously low levels mid way through the poles. A bus carrying a bunch of lazy passengers, some sleeping, some trying to sleep, some talking in hushed tones and some just sitting looking out from the windows. Only things that look strong and happy to be present in the scene are the shadows of everything. Proud and inviting. Dark and unmoving (well yes, some moving too, of the things running on the highway).

I have always loved this journey mainly because of the long repeating stretches of tall eucalyptus trees with white trunks and beautiful green leaves and huge stretches of farms punctuated only by small villages and towns on the way. I see a lot of paddy this time. Vast pools of water about a feet high covering the paddy fields and a bunch of village ladies pulling out the plants gently as if pulling out every paisa of their living from deep under the waters. Carefully. Meticulously. For a moment, I wished I was there with them rooting out the paddy, experiencing what it takes and how it feels. Yeah I know, nice for a wish, isn’t it?

I am headed home after long. This time for a month long break, my longest break in all the 4 years that I have been out of chandigarh now. A lot to do and a lot to look forward to, topmost being the home made food and catching up with Sunny on so many things. The journey is almost ending now and boy! it feels so good.

It feels so good
to be homeward bound
in the warmth of my people
the familiar sound

Am on this good old bus
That goes on a long highway
I look from the window
And get carried away
By the paddy fields
And tall eucalyptus trees
Ageless, free from time
Dancing in the warm summer breeze
Any moment now, I will be home
Open the gates and call out my mum
My home, the only heaven I have known
Will absorb me like a water drop absorbs another of its own

Oh! It feels so good
to be homeward bound
in the warmth of my people
the familiar sound

Tell me why?

Tell me why am I angry,
but not angry enough,
on the things unpleasant and rough?

Tell me why whenever I want something
I find myself sitting, waiting, wishing,
as if life was an idle hobby like fishing?

Tell me why do I blame,
everything that happens to me,
on everybody but me?

Tell me why do I seek reassurance,
whenever I make a choice or take a decision,
when all I know I will hear is shallow derision?

Tell me why don’t I listen to myself,
even if for once,
and stop making life a slave of chance?

Tell me why don’t I wake up?
Tell me why don’t I start moving?
Tell me why don’t I start darning?
Tell me why don’t I start changing?
Tell me why don’t I start living?
Tell me why?
Tell me why? …

safar

ghar jaate hue raste mein dekha
ek sookha peepal ka patta yunhi pada tha jadh ke pass
shayad beechadhne ke gham mein ruka tha kuch der

ek geelee hawa ka jhonka aaya
patte ko usne jaise gehri soch se jagaya

woh zameen usne chodi jisse lipta tha itni der se
aur udha umber ki aur, kabhi girta, kabhi takrata, badhta gaya

chal tow raha tha mere saath hi
kabhi mere paoon se takrata, tow kabhi kuch sochke dur ho jaata

na jaane kahan jaake rukna tha usko
par jab talak mere saath chala, mera safar tanha nahi kata

I saw ...

I saw something,
something so close to reality
which shattered my many illusions,
and resolved my few confusions
I had always felt I am only protecting,
protecting myself, my happiness, my illusionary possessions
but I know no more if I can protect really
and I know no more if I should protect really
but I know for sure one thing,
that compassion and a hearty laugh are the only antidotes,
for life and its many turns
being a gentleman with your head held high
listening to spoken words without a sigh
yet doing what you feel is right,
and protecting rather your convictions with all the might
is what I learnt when I saw reality
reality, ever so powerful, ever so ruthless,
yet ever so simple and convincing…