Idyllic Thoughts

An old saying among the explorers of the Americas says, "It is not life that matters, but the journey." But who among us enjoys the journey? We are busy deciding when, in a future date, we should be happy, that we have pushed to the back of our mind the truth that "now" we should be happy. Now, or that moment never comes. Life is just a collection of moments, which includes this moment. If we think we'll be happy after shifting to 'our' new house or driving 'our' new car or walking on the streets of Paris or along the Thames bridge, it's just a never-ending story. 

Just finished reading 'Zahir' by Paulo Coelho. He says, Zahir (obsession) is something which, once touched or seen, can never be forgotten, and which gradually so fills our thoughts that we are driven to madness. I have a private zahir and I believe most of us do. We may not always be driven to madness, but it does regurgitate in our minds all our lives. It does not let some sleep in peace and often becomes the reason for man pushing his boundaries.

In the lives of each of us, as we look back and review them in retrospect, there are certain desert wastes from which memory winces like some tired traveller faced with a dreary stretch of road.                                                                                                                                                                  --- P.G. Wodehouse  Looking back, I can clearly see the futility of our words, actions, emotions and despair when they have the power to change nothing. In fact, as Wodehouse says, my memory winces as it looks back and turns ...

Until now, I refuted the very idea of a universal truth. It was my belief that all truth is relative. But today I'm sure I have an observation nearing a universal truth. We often believe that no one else around us suffers as we do; that our trials and tribulations are unique, our grief is singular. This belief is universal, in all cultures and in all countries. Unfortunately, we remain ignorant of the fact that lakhs across the world are walking the same path as us, may be worse. Perhaps, it's because we rejoice in self-pity. 

Yesterday, I was sitting next to a girl in the city bus. She was, as all youngsters do perpetually, listening to songs on her cell phone. One of the song videos had a hero in a mythological garb striding towards three voluptuous heroines dancing, standing manly while they gyrated around him. Then he sat on a throne and they slithered on the floor in front of him. Where are the women activists who scream every time something worth screaming about happens? What about protecting the dignity of women onscreen? Do heroines exist only to grab the attention of the machoistic hero and feel grateful? I felt ashamed.

I haven't watched the idiot box even once in about four months. I find the recluse quite enjoyable and peaceful. Who cares about the opinions of some people which often amounts to no result in the end? Who cares about stories which have neither logic nor an end? Who cares about sleazy dances and boring songs, predictable insults passing off as comedy? If I want to know what is happening to the world, I go to newspapers and internet.  

For some, the world is their oyster. For a few, their oyster is their world. It is interesting to see how some manage to live their entire lives under the blissful shade of ignorance -- unaware of the everyday fight to survive in the real world. To feed, to breathe and to live with dignity without compromising on one's values. I wish each such person would for once peep out, step out and test the waters just to realise that life is indeed worth living; with a smile in their eyes and bounce in their steps.