Idyllic Thoughts

I believe the Socialist Republics of the world failed because they gave too much importance to the lazy poor, not the poor people who worked hard and yet failed to earn enough to sustain themselves. I see the same thing happening here in India. I see mobiles with fancy ringtones and wallpapers, tight jeans and even bikes with young men of the poorer class. And the government gives out rice at Re. 1/kg for them, allowing them to spend the rest Rs. 99 on luxury rather than necessity. They work for a day, earn enough to tide them through the next few days of non-working, loitering around in tea shops and then go to work only when that money runs out. They neither save for the future nor worry about it. Why don't our youth have a commitment towards work and its ethics?

One fine day, we all will look out of photo frames adorned with jasmine garlands and burning incense sticks. People come and bow to us -- shedding a tear or two if we are lucky -- walk away with solemn steps, hung heads and drooping shoulders, to stand in groups and whisper about our merits and what a sad situation it is. The spring in their steps returns when they step out of the premises and instantly forget the face in the frame. I sometimes wonder if grief too is just a show-off. I don't blame them, for life goes on... with or without us. 

The day before yesterday, I wrote about my paradise. Yesterday, while cooking, I was listening to Phil Collins' beautiful song 'Another day in paradise.' Do we, in our utter indifference or denial, live untouched by the homeless, the hungry and the aged who have nowhere to go? May be we have conditioned our minds so that we can effectively block out the sufferings of others. May be that's why we remain largely untouched by the deaths and destruction. May be denial is our natural protection against insanity. Because even the most compassionate of them all will have to keep it impersonal to remain sane. 

Work. Eat. Read. Sleep. Wake up to a rainy morning or a cloudy evening. This has been my routine since many days. I wished to fit in blogging too, but my mind seemed peaceful and content enough to idly wander. Right now, the most important things in my life seem to be running to the door to watch the numerous peahens prance around in our garden, waiting for the lone peacock to spread its feathers on our coconut tree, a drive along the wet path towards a happy beach which is being kissed in proxy by rain drops... Who wishes to bother about the problems of the world when one is in the midst of paradise? The bustling world and its numerous shortcomings seem to exist on another planet. Sayonara.

The glory of the past is an illusion. So is the glory of the present. --Edward Johnston. I always thought that it is human folly to look back at the 'glorious' past and rue the hardships of the present. We forget that the same past was once the hated-present which we wished would change into something better. Do we humans have a selective memory, storing all the good memories and deleting the bad ones, or rather creating a wall of forgetfulness to block them?

Life has no pit stops, only the inevitable destination.

While cleaning out old papers and magazines, got a Week magazine of 2009 which had stories on Kargil war. Felt proud that our government took the right (and bold) decisions at the right time, not bending to Big Brother's pressures; proud of our soldiers who lost their limbs, lives but not their true spirit in the face of a Stinger. Felt tears brim over at the pride of their parents. When will we learn to respect our soldiers instead of silver screen idols and heroes of the pitch?