Random Thoughts -1

I read a line yesterday evening which got me thinking.

"Life is too short to spend time with people who suck the happiness out of you."

Interesting, isn't it.

Perspective is the essence of human thinking and endeavor. Contextually the above line sounds really cool. But in a real-time scenario, under a particular circumstance, which is purely yours and in your world professional or personal, it just sounds good, that is all. There is nothing more to it, nothing less.

I love the point of view. I have done it personally to let go of many a people who sucked the happiness out of me. Some of them were my own choices that degraded down to that kind of an abyss as time passed by, some of them crept on me and without my conscious knowledge started sucking the life-force out of me. There is another angle to it too, may be I also unconsciously debilitated the delight in someone. Remember that most people, unconsciously do it. No one in their right senses want to dissipate what is bright and untrammeled; it just happens based on a particular situation or occasion. Human beings are not that bad. Yes there is a massive definition and precise differentiation in the thought process. A line that demarcates the good and the bad and mebbe further down the hole, the ugly. I wonder why this obsession with demarcation so that we can have a perspective that all we say, do, consider and comprehend is right and good. I believe that there are no precise separations. Every one of us has a little bit of everything. An incident, a happenstance, a contingency is what creates a situational reaction, and it could be good, bad or downright ugly depending on the mental state that prevailed, previously or experience has generated over the years.

I was standing on the outside of my ancestral home with my cousin brother when his dad was working for the temple committee. The temple was just across the house mentioned, and we could see him being calm and composed in his conversation with all the committee members. Just to give a perspective, he was always calm and composed and probably a very jovial man with a countenance that never was overbearing to noone. He was one of those who mind his own business and never worried about the wider horizons of human thinking so as to not get hassled, I reckon.

A person in a larger cruiser bike came close to us and asked for directions to meet this uncle of mine. We pointed towards the temple and balding individual as the person whom he is looking for. The man rode the few paces and started to have a conversation in a heavy toned and brusque manner. Well, my uncle did not loose his famed countenance but he slapped in the very same demeanor he was noted for.

Surprise, 'coz I said, SLAP. I mean he slapped someone. It was like what the hell. Of course, it was a damp squib as the man who came left with a huff on his cruiser for whatever reasons. The bigger picture: My uncle does mind his own business, does not worry about other people's business, lives calmly and in a surreal manner in his own way. So for him to loose his physiognomy could get us curious. Which it did. We found that he was having a relationship with someone in the neighboring village and the guy in the cruiser was some kind of good samaritan who wanted to ask what the deal was all about. He got slapped.

The situation was different. His primary demeanor would have never assuaged the situation. In fact it may have turned worse. Even this reaction could have turned sour under a different circumstance and another stranger. But it did not for whatever reasons. We mentioned it to a few of our family members, nobody believed us. He of course, denied the existence of any such incidence and nobody dared question him beyond that as his dour look would have made anyone circumspect of the reaction that may arise.

What I wanted to elaborate was this one incident does not define him as a person. But for that stranger who got slapped, my Uncle was a particular kind of person which is completely different from all other perspectives that have ever floated around. And I am sure, even if I do not know the details, for the other lady who was in the relationship my Uncle was not the cool masked brilliance that everyone deemed him to be on the other side of the spectrum.

All men and women, under different circumstances, with distinct people, under varied incidental strains, react in manners that may defy possibilities. The success of many an individual is also dependent on this aspect. The reaction to a possible situation that may raise your stature to another level happens in the very same manner that may completely degrade your level to another abyss that may be insurmountable.

Look at the Afro - American men and women in the United States. They keep defying odds and they keep being combative and slowly and steadily they are out there in the open in almost all the spheres of life chipping away. Whether you pick up music, sports, business, anything they are there and they rule the roost. And they are brilliant at what they do which makes it more special. But on the other side, the same energy, the same intensity, fervor, anxiety, earnestness and the need and hunger to be the best and to be successful, sometimes ends up on the other side of the law. It is the situations that create the scenario of where you want to go. I hear a lot of stories. People and their anecdotes interest me and they share so I remember and almost all of it has a perspective which popped out of a situation or an incident at a particular moment and mostly at a crossroad that could have showcased a few paths.

Good or bad. That is the way it goes. A girl told me that she had an opportunity to be a dancer and she was good but in a freak accident she broke her leg and was bed ridden for about 5 months and whatever opportunity she thought she had standing at the crossroads and looking out at the world of dance dissipated. She does not crib 'coz she has found something else, which was again worthwhile. So that is good and does she miss the world of dance, Yup! a lot, her limp is gone and she is going to work on it somewhere along the way for her own longing to be satiated.

Think of this; a boy from the noisiest, lousiest red light district in the country, Sona Gachi; Kolkata, India was adopted by a New York city resident couple. From Sona Gachi, he got transported straight to Lower East Side. This ludicrous neighborhood was filled with the stench of blood, sweat and semen, coupled with raucous, scathing and disparaging sounds that would fill the 2 by 6 meter cube called home. This was where the mother or whomsoever took care of him lived, and desecrated their body's and souls and he had grown up watching the violations, depredations and befouling of her as well as some others. From here to the wide expanse of higher living, Lower East Side, the condo had a bathroom the size of the whole he was in. The view was magnificent. The kid was just 8 years old when he got picked for adoption. He was just one among a big lot of kids from the same place. In fact, just to add to the drama, someone told me that the kid was late in joining the group as he was caught up at the open air washroom. Everything changed, I know if it is a better life, as Lower East side can also be hell depending on the people you are with, but things changed. All the other ones who stood there on that day, may be thinking of destiny, luck, fate etc; but again who knows sometimes, Sona Gachi may well be paradise in comparison to Lower East Side, NY. It is a perspective isn't it, it depends who is looking and how.

It is tough live without perspectives. It helps us to see the brighter side of almost everything. It helps us to camouflage the so called weaknesses that we carry. It makes our days better, it makes our families look refulgent, our friends: awe-inspiring and our world around beautiful. We just seem to find comfort in most things. Our need of perfection moves aside and based on the situation we pick up a perfection that is much more aligned to reality and accept it as the best possible under the current scenario; which in turn makes us move on to other more important pursuits with much needed focus.

We shall continue the conversation further as the topic is of utmost importance. There are these extreme cases of showcasing of happiness under any circumstances. The bouncy nature of the exhibition of cacophony is something which needs a little surmise when witnessed. There seems to be a certain kind of withdrawal symptom of some sorts, may be due to the entertainment industry and the images they promulgate and the nature of life showcased on all these mediums which is but withdrawn from reality. But that has created this trumpeting of things which seem deliberate and unreal without much substance and the continuity of such nature would create a disassociation with the emotion of happiness, laughter, pure amusement and simple merriment.

Again, that is my perception....

Random thoughts

A lot of what I know or have learnt through the years from my people, peers, others etc states that death is dark and that it invokes despair and grief.

Experience, I mean the numerous encounters I had with death and of other people dying around me states that it is just a movement from one state of matter to another. This I reckon, is the normal. Almost every being on the planet earth including the inanimate goes through this process. There is nothing untoward about it. The reason for the grief and despair, is also something that every being goes through. The one that moved on, well, that is the end of that story. But the one that stay back, the one that has been affected does gain an impact, immeasurable, to quite an extent. This effect on the one that continuous to thrive is again of the limited kinds. 'Coz perseverance is the hallmark of all beings, animate as well as inanimate. The human may cry and showcase his grief, then gather the pieces and bounce back as the monotonous Sun shall rise everyday and ask them to continue, the plant may look dry and dark and then the monotonous seasons shall keep swaying to and forth and slowly bring forth the green and elegance; and the rock may look parched and ominous after an event of disaster but the incessant wind and rain shall carry the dreary sludge and the magnificence shall slam back normalcy.

The extinct ones, what about them, hollers the mind: well, that one is difficult. The inability to coarse oneself to defend against onslaught of any kinds and the incapacity to continue ahead in the journey of creation may seem sentimental and draconian. But the helplessness may also state the obvious, the complete end may give rise to some other element or being that is far more useful and ingenious towards the future needs of what the earth shall constitute.

Death is but a brilliant method in the madness of existence. The existential dark space where definition stops and it is pure imagination that throws a brilliant rainbow of ideas about what is next. It also allows the living to express themselves; the crutch being suddenly taken away. The ability to express and get things done, raise itself in such a manner that mostly surprises the individual themselves. The dependency on others is the story of human existence. It is a beautiful thing and it allows the person to gather resources and fight off forces that may be difficult to deal with alone. And the wondrous values of companionship and story sharing has nothing comparable. The vice or iniquity is the dependency that sets in for both the parties. It may be shared dependency but it is dependent on compatibility, conjecture as well as skills of deed. The inability to spread capabilities beyond a certain measure in varied aspects become an inappropriate inadequacy. Death helps to expand the horizons. The stillness of the future, chills the veins momentarily but the same chill is then utilized to create the wings to fly further and see unexplored terrains.

Loneliness may have its naysayers and critics, but most of what they say is overblown. The silence that accompanies desolation has also got a bad rap. Most of all these is personal opinions, true. Even this is. But many of the opinions are taken up and ardently followed by certain less fortunate souls who spend most times with other people never having a moment of rumination. They shall continue to see the dreaded visualization of loneliness and silence and spread the word. The population is major concern. I have forgotten the sounds that nature makes. The slow steady rhythm of the wind, the varied tunes that birds-I-dunno-names-of create, the cricket's crackle in the night, the feeling and auditory vibrations of a snake slithering some place close, the sudden defenses that come to rejuvenate our senses, the decrepitate snap of some morning bird just callously flying by, all that is gone. I dunno where they are now but I need to get back with them. I need to be one with them.

When death shall come by to take me by my hand so that we could cross the fires of hell in tandem I need to have these sounds and feelings lurching in my soul instead of the incessant complaints of human existence, the constant brouhaha of being cheerful when cheer itself need not be shown to no one, the immutable drive to show a face that seems to be cut in a smile while the camouflage slides out of the jaw drooping and forlorn; the perpetual state of exposure and the need to showcase the deeds, if any,  and get a feedback which in turn creates much more humbug and pain. How beautiful it would be just to walk in the middle of the night with moon cannoodling around with the trees and me, the street lights partly lit not covering anything beyond a certain diameter? How beautiful it is to use your backpack as your support and sit by the river side, just listening to gurgling of the flowing sand and water, the breeze bringing the smell of roasted coconut and the slight strain of the fish being fried? I just want to keep walking among these beings, animate and inanimate, away from the maddening crowd and their everyday spoils, hooks, acts and pains and be one with the nature around. The green grass on the underneath of my feet, the slight dew encompassing all that I am, my skin tuned to the surreal, the mind a rush of blood that is real.

The sound of silence hangs on me and I love the slow moving out of the despair and disdain. The incessant tide of what is not good and what is not bad has slid away, in its place stands a reasonably simple vivacity of opportunity that beckons me away from the insolence and ego that sets everything around me to be heavy. I want to get away from this heaviness, it is overbearing, the burden is way too much, I can feel it in my muscles, memories turn itself into monuments of dust underneath the strain.

I want to feel light; I want to leave tomorrow, its but a days journey away from teeming masses, from the convoluted thinkers, from the spurious jocundity and joviality. I just want to find myself a little place, a few trees, a brook and a few chirping birds, do throw in a dog, they are never phony....