Idyllic Thoughts

These untimely rains remind me of those younger days of ennui. Of days when I wandered around lost, with no bearings, no aim. Lost because to a person like me, living without reading is like a druggie without his drugs at hand. Like a fish out of water. I belong only in a world where books are near me wherever I go.  Those were days of summer holidays when I went to my grandma's house and felt lost. Everybody brought me books as gift, as loan, as peace offering while my sister got bangles, colourful chains and other accessories and knick-knacks as gifts.  Yet, they were not enough for me. I devoured them all and hungered for more. I spent my rainy days in a daze, surrounded by the gloom of a lone house in the midst of a forest. I spent sunny days wandering around the forest, lying on the huge rock and gazing up at the unchanging sky for hours. Sometimes I feel those days were from another life and I am reborn again. 

I have always preferred books to the movies created from them. The sense of dissatisfaction that lingers after I watch a movie was never there when I read it's book.  Maybe that's because a book lets your mind go to those places where those words went, imagine those things that the words did, feel the life in those words. It's your imagination that endears a book to you.  Whereas a movie is the imagination of a director, an actor. It is impersonal. Your mind can go only to the places where the director's or actor's mind goes. 

I have always been a listener. And we can listen only when we are silent. Since childhood, silence was my way of life. It is the only way one can understand the psyche of others.  I also listened to myself. It encouraged me to think. And when I began thinking, this world began to reveal itself. And when I started understanding people, I also realised the only way forward is to again remain silent. Silence in either way keeps me calm, peaceful. I feel like a detached onlooker. 

Luv and Kush sing the epic of their parents, Ramayana. Hearing that in the serial, I realised that to every person, his or her life is their own epic. They live it in each moment and relive it again and again later.  Ask anybody. They believe and know their sufferings are as deep as any epic. But, the reality is, it remains untold and unheard. 

I read Twitter for the versatile humour and authentic news that somehow manages to seep in through the mesh (and mess) of fake news. Every day some topic trends. Today it was the sad deaths of Irfan Khan and Rishi Kapoor. Tomorrow it will change to something different. I just wonder at those fleeting trends. Today's news is forgotten tomorrow when we get to rage, feel sad and passionate about something for a few hours each day.  Is not our life too fleeting? 

In Ramayana, after Rama kills Ravana, the oldest survivor in Ravana's family, his grandfather, pleads with Rama to show mercy to Lanka citizens since now Lanka is under Ayodhya and they are to be ruled by him.  Rama, however, replies that though he won the war, it was not his intention to occupy Lanka for the sake of expanding his kingdom. His fight was against adharma. Hence, he will not be ruling over Lanka and Lanka is free.  When I remember how our textbooks glorify mughal invaders who not only snatched kingdoms of India but also destroyed every city, village they passed through, killed its innocent people and plundered our wealth, I am reminded of Rama's fairness, dislike for unnecessary violence and complete absence of greed. He did what was right. And he respected every individual's right to life and freedom.  This is why I am still a Hindu

Just finished reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. What she painstakingly portrayed as some future dystopian society is visible and active even now.  One of her characters says, "There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from. In the days of anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are being given freedom from. Don't underrate it."  As I said, the dystopian society which exists now has neither 'freedom to,' nor 'freedom from' for women. Having said that, it is in human nature to subdue the weaker ones once they gain the power to do so. Be it men or women. I do not believe that only men have the desire to oppress. Proper wielding of power is in the hands of any individual and depends on that individual.  

It's raining. Every year's first rain is a joy to watch, feel, inhale. Tiny birds in our compound which would otherwise be chattering away the evening, seemed terrified, confused. They flew helter-skelter, passing on messages to their friends. Many times I wish I could just understand what they chatter so constantly about. Do they speak about us? Us, the abnormal humans?  For the first time, I could not smell fresh earth after the rain. Wonder why? May be the earth doesn't want to entertain us humans anymore. 

The stillness is astounding, abnormal but not unwelcome. Sometimes the stillness is so complete that there is a feeling of the absence of air around me and I feel baffled when I am able to inhale air. We are perpetually surrounded by sound and when that is absent, we feel lost. In India there is always a crowd around us, a moving, living entity and that is missing now. Our house is near a temple. If you look out of the window, men and women hurry towards the temple carrying hope in their eyes and purpose in their strides. It is only when they come out that they look around relaxed, with the certainty of those who have surrendered their sorrows and hopes to a higher being. Kids in their uniforms are dragged along by their mothers to and from schools. Now the road looks like a still from a doomsday movie when the world has been destroyed and abandoned by humanity. Our compound is a mini ecosystem in itself. Birds, squirrels, mongoose, peahens play, tumble, chat and hum to their own music

ಕಡಲತೀರದ ನಕ್ಷತ್ರರಾಶಿ ನೋಡಿ ಇವತ್ತು ಅನ್ನಿಸಿದ್ದು, ಈ ನಕ್ಷತ್ರಗಳೆಲ್ಲ ನಿಂತಲ್ಲಿ ನಿಲ್ಲದೆ ದಿನದಿನ ಚಲಿಸುತ್ತಿದ್ದರೆ ಆಗ ನೂರಾರು ವರ್ಷಗಳ ಹಿಂದಿನ  ಸಮುದ್ರಯಾನ ಸಾಧ್ಯವಿರುತ್ತಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಅಂದರೆ ವಾಸ್ಕೋ ಡ ಗಾಮ ಭಾರತಕ್ಕೆ ಸಮುದ್ರ ಮಾರ್ಗ ಕಂಡುಹಿಡಿಯುತ್ತಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಅಂದರೆ ಪೋರ್ಚುಗೀಸರು, ಡಚ್ಚರು, ಇಂಗ್ಲೀಷರು ಮತ್ತಿತರರು ಭಾರತಕ್ಕೆ ಬರುತ್ತಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ನಮ್ಮ ದೇಶದ ಇತಿಹಾಸ ಆಗ ಹೇಗಿರುತ್ತಿರಬಹುದು? ಸಣ್ಣ ಸಣ್ಣ ರಾಜರ ಒಳಜಗಳಗಳ ಮಧ್ಯೆ ಹೊರಗಿನವರು ಬಂದೇ ಬರುತ್ತಿದ್ದರು. ಆದರೆ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ತಡವಾಗಿ. ಈಗಿನ ಭಾರತ ಹೇಗಿರುತ್ತಿತ್ತು? ಅಖಂಡವಾಗಿಯೋ ? ಅಥವಾ... ಊಹಿಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳಲು ಹೋದರೆ ತರತರದ ಸಾಧ್ಯತೆಗಳು. 

Everybody wants to be an optimist. Some are eternal optimists. In the race to remain positive in the face of adversity, and get praised for their positivity, most people refuse to face reality. Until now, I too was an optimist. But now I question myself. Do we really need to be optimists always? Why can't we digest being called a 'pessimist'? What is wrong with an occasional pessimism? Let go and see the burden you are carrying, fly away. You will feel light. You will be free of carrying the burden of expecting others' goodness, and yours too. You will learn to accept that people can have bad qualities. That no one is perfect or remain perfect always. Pessimism also lets you see reality as it is, without the film of goodness covering it. Then you can handle the situation better and live better.