toddler teacher

Been a while since blogging, but some things are worth being penned and shared... here's one such experience...

 

the last day of our trek to Roopkund, and at shouting distance is Ran-ka-dhar. I'm among the last people (Shreyas and Sidd being the others) walking in our trek group, along with Manoj who was the rear-guard of our trek. I find a chocolate bar in my pocket, but I'm not interested to eat at that moment. Just then, I see a kid, about a year-and-half old, standing in the courtyard of his house, blissfully playing. I tell Manoj, "Manoj bhai, ye chocolate bacche ko de kar aa jaunga, ruko." He takes it from me, and goes himself, since the kid seems not to understand other languages yet, when I call him. The little one happily takes the chocolate and safely puts it into the tiny pocket of his shorts. Just as Manoj bids a farewell, his mother calls out (translating to) "uncle ko pranam karo.". Without a moment's hesitation or second thoughts, the kid bends down to touch the feet of Manoj seeking his blessings.

It is the pure and unscathed humility of childhood, I figure out, that let the kid be so deft in listening to his mother. He doesn't spare time to thoughts of knowing (or not) whose blessings he was seeking, whether the elder is worthy of the respect, or any of those things that go through our minds when we're asked of an act of reverence. It is this toddler teacher that taught me, reverence to people doesn't involve answers to questions of the sort.

That moment is fresh into my thoughts even after a whole month since we trekked. And here it goes, lest I forget it over time, serving a reminder for later..

For you, dear you...

Please don't tell me not to cry,

Please don't say there was a reason, why.

You don't know what I feel of how much I hurt,

Wet spots of tear drip onto the collars of my shirt.

You may say I should go on with life,  forget and be strong,

But deep down i know, and I don't want to go on alone.

I don't expect you to understand why,

for no apparent reason I break down and cry.

my life has changed for all that you see,

and that is why I'm not like the same old me.

What happened; has changed my life forever,

I cannot be the same, not today, not tomorrow, never.

The best you can do for me is be there as a friend,

for my soul hurts bad, and it may never mend.

--Anon

...and then, she was free...

Few drops of dark shades falling from her eyes, a naive view she was holding in, the deeper the world went, the smaller her heart grew. Dark water kept pouring in her empty hearted glass. It was like an endless waterfall of sadness. Her eyes, wandering in the mist of happiness, looking for a ray of sunshine, but all she got, was a snowflake in the dark summer. Days were pretty in her head, but none in her eyes. Reflections of the world she kept running from, followed her into every moment she lived.

A step here, and one there, on the pathless road with a desperation in her heart for a pure happy world. The millions of emotions she kept hidden inside a room of her pretty little heart, was like a magic box of the purest layer of desire. She packed it with the most beautiful bunch of flowers she plucked from the dark world she had left. As she walked out, she was up in the air, walking on a rainbow, a blooming heart, ready to fly. Silently, her wings grew like the moon among the stars, and then she set herself free. 

Free from the burden of expectations., she emancipated her soul from the shackles of self doubt. Letting go of her fear of inhibition, flying higher and higher into the deep blue sky. Yes, she's now free. Free to be anyone she wants to be... anything she wants to be

-Anon.

I choose...

So said the Other's way, for the chosen one, and why be the chosen one...

I choose to speak to you in silence,
in my silence, i fear no rejection.

I choose to be with you in my loneliness,
it's only there, that none owns you but I.

I choose to love you from the distance,
the distance shields us both from pain.

I choose to imprison you in my thoughts,
there alone, do I own all freedom.

I choose to kiss you on the wind,
the wind is gentler than my lips.

I choose to touch you through the sun,
the light of dawn is softer than my touch.

I choose to soothe you through the moon,
the caress of moonlight is pleasing much.

I choose to hold you in my dreams,
for my dreams are where I have no end,
for only there can I always be with you.

-Anon

between logic and emotions...

Vulcans : as Sarek tells Spock about them, “Emotions run deep within our race, in many ways more deeply than in humans. Logic offers a serenity humans seldom experience, a control of feelings so that they do not control you”. Even Kirk needed Spock when it came to warp the Enterprise out of a crisis caused because of his own emotions.

Where do the two originate from - logic and emotions...? Aren't they both from our own thought-processes?

Then why, I wonder, is it so difficult to be rational for humans! Whether it is about asking why tears roll down when the hero of the movie is dying in his mother's arms, or when it is to convince someone to see the rationale behind certain decisions, humans prove Sarek right, time and again. Feelings have taken control of the mind to an extent where they are merely uncontrolled expressions. Seldom does one manage to check these expressions. It simply doesn't seem to work in humankind that the mind can rule over matter... where the mind is the master, and not the slave. Keep the doors open for this to happen, but still, the choice for humans, is to pick the mind being the slave of 'feelings'., and of the surroundings. And for those who choose to control rather than be controlled, are Branded. They are stereotypes who don't understand, are stubborn and determined to be against others.

However one chooses to control feelings, On Vulcan, would have had it taught from childhood. Here on Earth, it's well nigh impossible. One has to find one's teachers... or find other green-blooded hobgoblins. I'll consider myself fortunate for having found not one, but two of them. They help me find rationale when I fail to. While one's way of conveying is by making me realize the 'flow' of things, the other conveys by apt words when I fail at them. One's practical, while the other's words of lesson. One lends experience, while the other lends ideas. It's them that, when I'm unable to check on my emotions, reason me out and make me see logic.

For this, shall this be a "thank you note" to the two... to Music, and to Poetry.

rain, rain, come again...

A boy of about 4 or 5 years, he'd probably just learned to happily sing

"Rain rain go away, little Johnny wants to play...".

but stood at one window of their house in the quarters, sad and disappointed; punished for doing it despite having forbidden to... twice!

It was an early summer day; those days when his place had seen rain with hailstones; and this was one of them. Just as it started pouring down, and the hailstones clattered onto the streets, he'd wanted to run out of the house. He wanted to relish 'Ice'... luxury then. A cautious mother who'd already warned him against going out if and when it rained was busy washing laundry.

However, a few minutes into his hailstone-hunting, she probably realized something was out of place, and went to look outside. Summoned into the house, his head was dried and all the 'Ice' he still carried were poured down the sink. After some chiding, he was given dry clothes to wear, and Ordered (with a O) not to go back into the streets until the rain stopped.

Did she know that was exactly what he would do? For, he was back on the streets and out in the rain, in no time. This time when she found out, he was dragged in, scolded harshly, made to undress and stand waiting for dry clothes, so that he wouldn't go back to the streets. He would have to remain so, until the rain had stopped... and that was her way of keeping him from falling sick.

And there he was, standing at the window, hopelessly staring at the street as the silvery white stones melted away. Little did he know either, that he had already fallen in love with Rain.

As years rolled by, he had forgotten this story, his little love affair with rain. But he never missed a chance to get drenched when it rained. Whether it was on his way back from school, college, the library or office, or anywhere else, he found opportunities to wet himself tip to toe in rain water.

"But now, he's 'Grown-up', and has so much to take care of... a family, his work, friends, society and what not!". Such thoughts seem to have gotten into this puny little thing of his, called the brain, which sometimes works, leading to what the learned ones call 'worry'. His worries and bothering of no apparent origin are taking a toll on everything he's supposed to take care of.

Along came another day, when it rained; just before the onset of another summer. He's just got the chance to savor another shower of rain on his way back home. Again ordered to dry himself (as always, by his mother...), a cup of tea is offered. He picks it up, and walks to the gate wanting to be out there, but is stopped by her once again. 

The craving to go and stand under the bursting clouds is pushing him. Quickly finishing his cup of tea, he runs up to that attic of his house. Just about to enter, he stops, and looks up to the sky. Drops of water force him to close his eyes, but he doesn't bother anymore. He's out there; letting the rain do what it does best. As the drops hit his face, he smiles for the first time in a while. And with the smile, come back sweet memories of how he'd once done the same thing as a little boy.

He had come to peace with himself, and when rain drops trickled down the neck, they washed down all worries with them... at least, for the moment.

ye dost bhi...

ये दोस्त भी अजीब होते है, देने पे आये तो जान दे दे...
लेने पे आये तो हसी तक चीन लेते है!
कहने पे आये तो दिल के तमाम राज़ बोल दे,
छुपाने पे आये तो ये भी न बताये कि आखिर खफा क्यों है!
नाराज़ होगये तो सांस तक ना लेने दे,
मनाने के लिए अपनी साँसों को भी वो वार दे!
इसी लिए कहते है, दोस्त ज़िन्दगी में नहीं मिलते,
ज़िन्दगी दोस्तों से मिलती है।

                  -Anon