Let’s fight the darkness in us
They told (not asked) us to forgive and forget. They said it’s necessary for our personal development. Yet, here we are: somewhere in the middle of forgiving and forgetting. We don’t fully forgive anyone. We don’t fully forget anything. We wade through the web of time, hoping to be safe from the agonies of our past, the mistakes of our youth. If somebody were to hug you today and whispered in your ear that they have forgiven you, you would most probably prefer to forget the whole incident. Not your fault: Nobody wants to be on the wrong side of forgiveness. It’s an admission of the worst kind. You’d rather be the one who can be strong enough to forgive others. After all, forgiving is the first step. Forgetting comes later. But deep inside, you also know that you don’t have the strength to fully let things go. And despite all these predilections, you must accept that the happiest day of your life would be when you’ve finally forgiven those who have wronged you.
The more you read about the Sistine Chapel and the magnificent man behind (under?) it, the more you want to indulge in a drug called art. What appeals to our senses is the tiniest of resemblances to life. One doesn’t have to stare at high-brow cultural pieces to grasp the grip art has on our existence. For starters, why else would you want to have elaborate prints on your bed sheets? Or for that matter, floral designs on your curtains? Or even the colour paints on your walls? We chase these ridiculously redundant things because we are constantly in search of life — anything and everything that moves us enough to cherish the fact that we are breathing. If not, what exactly is left of this world to live for?
I recently made a list of elements that repeat themselves in our day-to-day routine. Two prominent heroes top the list: shame and suffering. Without shame, we’d be taking a dump wherever we feel like, even inside the office cafeteria. Or do even worse. Without suffering, there is no growth whatsoever. Each one of us suffers in their own style. Our society quietly benefits a lot from these two fellas. We talk about law and order but there is no law without order and order comes into play only when S&S are involved.
Everyday we learn new things that we are never going to use even once in our entire lifespan. No, this is not a plug for my Useless Trivia of the Day on Instagram Story. However, it’s human endeavour to keep going and picking up profound tidbits, better hacks and you-know-what to endure more, to sustain more, to spread more, to relish more. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck in our zone (let’s not call it comfort zone; being comfortable is perfectly alright in my book — my problem is with NOT realizing which zone a person is trapped in) and never venture out to smell newer realities.
Diwali has to be my favouritest festival. The whole celebration — whether it’s for Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs or Jains — is centered around family and friends. But for mythology’s sake, it’s a festival of lights. Our houses are lit af (quite literally) and there is a prolonged wave of positivity in the neighbourhood. Against the dark backdrop of amavasya (new moon night), all the diyas (tiny lamps) brighten up our collective spirit. The cotton wicks, dipped in oil, should remind us that we burn for the enlightenment of others. And by this logic, aren’t we the human manifestation of lights themselves?
I am always wondering about old age. How will I look like? Would I be healthy enough to walk on my own? Who is going to be left with me? What happens to my water-soaked bucket list? Etc. Etc. This tendency to look into the future, if you may, has a lot to do with my ignorance about the present. Everything is pretty much boring. Nothing that’s taking place now fascinates me enough. Sorry. I may not wear my prescription glasses but my eyes are peering way beyond the horizon.
Apparently, machines can’t feel anything. That could very well be the greatest differentiator between them and us. However, it doesn’t escape me how we build our multi-layers of feelings to deal with the passage of time. Since we are helpless against the clock, we live a bit in the past. For instance, at any given point of the day, I’d be guessing what exactly what was I doing 24 hours ago. On the other hand, my wife likes to challenge her memory with what was she doing a week ago.
While growing up, I heard two English words — scope and future — repeatedly from the mostly illiterate parents around me. Both would have a huge impact on how an adolescent in the house is going to fare ahead. For reasons commercial more than aesthetic, engineering and medical had scope. And there was a future in anything other than Arts. Millions of kids in the subcontinent (not just India) managed to not kill themselves with such a narrow understanding of how a person is supposed to find their calling in this cruel, cruel world.
My dear friend Visha told me back in 2014 that all it takes to write a book is a page. One page a day for a year and you have book fattened by 364 pages. Simplistic, yes. Not improbable though. So much has changed since that conversation at a lovely place in Lower Parel (Mumbai) except for one thing: I still can’t bring myself to work on an idea. Yes, I have lots of ideas but having ideas is like having oxygen for dinner. Unless I stringently worked on them, nothing will happen. Despite being aware of all these truth bombs, I am far from constructing anything concrete. And this in a country where most buildings suffer from erectile dysfunction. My psuedo-writer’s block is so strong that it can even cure my insomnia. Whenever I am sleepless, I try to work on any of the aforementioned ideas, and within minutes, I fall asleep.
Last but not the least, it’s high time we learn to give away. Hoarding made sense to the generations that preceded us. For us, basking in the glorious days of Amazon and Flipkart, less is more. Granted that our existential crisis camouflages well with the desire to have what’s not required, we might be able to break our chains of emptiness by learning to help those who were actually dealt bad cards — even before they were born.
PS. Happy Diwali. May the light in your never flicker out.
