Introspection

It appears very exciting to consider yourself as great. People consult, sub-ordinates seek guidance, juniors pay respect, and members of the staff obey. You become part of the policy making body. How rosy it looks! But all these manifestations are attributes of the power you enjoy which is essentially co-terminus with your tenure. Very often than not one tends to forget a basic reality; the position one holds in his official capacity is not permanent but the qualities developed if any (worth emulating) are. Then the question comes – did I cultivate any quality which deserved notice? At leisure I take a dig at myself and repeat the question over and over again. I always get an impassioned answer-an emphatic ‘no’. Did I spend all my life creating a superficial halo which ended up in a smoke leaving nothing? I don’t admit pessimism and like all apologists consoled me-‘look man, you never imagined life was too short and consequently you forgot to draw up a road map for meaningful life. Besides didn't you guide some, love many and in the process didn't you get back a little bit of you in their unstinting affection’? Having satisfied with the reasoning I felt like having a self-pat in my back that blossomed in to a full smile. I was sure no one was looking from behind.

Sometimes I wonder if a little introspection could not add meaning to one’s existence! It may be embarrassing to own up the follies we commit in the past, but we cannot possibly justify the unjustifiable! What is the strength behind such arrogance? Is it really the ego? Or is it because to own up a mistake appears to be a super-human bravery! Whatever may be the reason I feel a bit matured and strong with some amount of self-talk in solitude. While I was having a similar session recently my wife probably overheard and teased-‘hey, you have started talking to yourself like old people’. I didn't correct her by saying –‘it is only the youth in me that talks’ because of the foreboding that she would again suspect another rendezvous with yet another imaginary lass the moment she got hints of the youth revisiting. I have told her on numerous occasions that the characters in my stories are purely imaginary without any resemblance to any person -past or present. But she would not listen to it.

My last blog got different reactions. My cousin commented the other day-‘do you really believe in wife management’? The friend of my brother-in-law who stays in Indonesia thought the idea to be hilarious and had a hearty laugh. But I am scared to join issues with my cousin because like all women she thought a wife belongs to a delicate category ‘who has been more sinned against than sinning’. In the traditional pattern the husband is the fallen guy and I know where the sympathy flows. Under the circumstances I must bow out from management and concentrate on appeasement instead. That would certainly win hearts not wrath.

  Summer continues to be harsh with mercury spiraling over forty degree Celsius but the evenings are delightedly pleasant. This is the peculiarity of this city. In our student days the city was much greener. Cool breeze used to flow as early as four pm in the afternoon but with the passage of time the construction of a concrete jungle has come in to the fore and completely changed the complexion of the city. In the modified scenario nature also plays a trick or two. Our childhood days in the village were different. My cousins used to drop in during summer to spend their annual vacation in our place. In those days our village was a reasonable summer resort because of the forest cover all around. Playing cards was an amusing past time and we really enjoy our summer. During those days, I don’t remember a harsh summer ever.Borrowing the idea from the Upanishads I often wish,

'From the unreal lead me to the real!

From darkness lead me to light!'

But is it easy? It is often said that human beings are more mysterious than mystery itself. All our efforts to interpret life and existence take a circuitous route to end up where it began. The famous physicist Niels Bohr once said, "We are both spectators and actors in the great drama of existence". If that be the case, let us play our designated role to the end and wait for the curtains to fall.

    

Dreams

I dreamt the other day that while climbing up a mountain I had a great fall but miraculously there was no injury. Despite the fall, I tried several times to climb up again but all such attempts resulted in repeated falls. It reminded me of Sisyphus and his unenviable efforts to carry the boulder up only to see it rolling down. Did I I become as deceitful as Sisyphus to earn such a dream? I contemplated the matter over and over again. It is true that while in service I had rarely shown my salary slip to my wife because of the apprehension of a long lecture on budgeting and consequential misunderstanding. I imagine most of the husbands would be accused of developing a liking for such innocent habit which would hardly merit as deception. I am inclined to believe that the practice is consistent with  righteous living without incurring the wrath of Dharma Deva. If that be the case how come I got singled out to be consigned to that frustrating dream! The built up emotion was so much that I shouted, ‘Injustice, injustice’ which startled my wife in the middle of her sweet dream and she woke up screaming, ‘why are you howling at this hour?’ Alas there is no business school for wife-management! Having started the day with an ominous presentiment, I became cautious of my movements and thought of postponing the day’s work to the next day. Electric bill, phone bills, medicine bill etc. got shelved. When my wife brought breakfast I was completely mesmerized in the postponement mode and without hearing her words shouted back, ‘not today, tomorrow’. She was bewildered for a few seconds but pushed the tray in to my hand in her inimitable style yelling ‘be sane at times if not always’. The sound rather than the thrust brought me back in to reality and the haze around my vision started melting.

Why do people dream? I was very curious, like most people to find meaning in dreams. In my adolescence I heard numerous theories relating to dreams. Some said unfulfilled desires find expression in dreams while some others say it foretells future happenings and very often than not it portends bleak situations ahead. But what appealed me most was the theory that if one dreams of luxurious living, royal grandeur and befitting treatment he would certainly end up as a king. I remember having invented many such dreams during my teenage with make belief stories to impress my friends and relatives who were gullible enough to believe those to be true. What I ultimately became-whether twice removed from reality or more than that is another story. Again I do not know whether my other friends were as inventive as I was then but I find most boys tell lies at that age. Of course I cannot say if it is equally true to girls too. In the early years in the college I searched the bookshelf in the reading room and found ‘The Interpretation of Dreams’ by Sigmund Freud.  Although I devoted four, five sessions to have an overview yet the half-an-hour recess was woefully inadequate to satiate my queries. The reference to disguised fulfillment of repressed desires, sex symbols, genitals, unconscious, subconscious etc. etc. did not register well in my young mind at that time simply because it did not provide an easy solution to interpret a dream. The psychoanalysis of dreams, the Oedipus complex and the Electra complex posed to be inscrutable theories alien to a science student.  

I had to back out from the mission half way. The rendezvous with interpretation having ended prematurely in the past, I thought of reviving it by further study on the subject but the task appeared as intimidating as then         because of various interpretations. One theory suggests that dreams are subjective interpretation of signals generated by the brain during sleep. Another theory suggests that dreams clean up the clutter from the mind to refresh for new ventures. It is also stated that dreams mainly occur in rapid eye movement (REM) stage of sleep-when brain activity is high and resembles that of being awake. All those materials and many others made me dreamless for about a fortnight that scripted my abandonment for the second time. I have to find someone who could interpret my recent Sisyphean experience.  

Of course day dreaming is different and quite pleasant. Essentially it is like enjoying the unachievable. Some years back a friend said he enjoyed day dreaming of winning a lottery of ten million because such thought brought meaning to his existence. He knew all along that it was only his imagination but the mirage is much more attractive than the green meadows. He used to purchase lottery tickets to keep his mind green and fresh.

It is true that we must have dreams to propel us forward in a positive way and to give sustenance to our existence. While harbouring a dream we also draw up a road map to ensure that it does not frizzle out as a day dream.

Post-retirement thoughts

Superannuation is a part of one’s service career and although everyone knows it would come ultimately yet very often than not people remain unprepared. Besides, the situation from hyper activity to relative inactivity is a depressing feeling defying comprehension. It is not that easy especially when it comes so suddenly. The other day one of my friends was very nostalgic about the years spent in service and he rued rather sadly that the mobile phone which had been a singing toy has lost its lustre by ringing occasionally, showing signs of exhaustion. I have a different experience altogether simply because I had been preparing myself for about a year or so to face the event. It would be a travesty of truth to say that I immunized myself from the paroxysms of separation. In fact I did feel the convulsions of missing my colleagues, my institution and above all the surrounding that I called my own. I was never crazy about authority and there was absolutely no problem when I lost it. Many persons suffer terribly when the baton of authority disappears but I had no such hallucination and I knew the brittleness of official power which evaporates the moment one demitted office. I had other plans after retirement. Writing was my passion during my young days but I was guilty of overstretching myself to the extent of spoiling my career for which I had no option but to distance myself from creative writing for a pretty long period. Even during service career I could not find quality time and concentration to revive my skill. Superannuation provided both and surprisingly, I got support from the domestic front too. My wife never believed that I could write short stories and unfortunately I didn't get new arrows in my repertoire to dispute her persuasion. So, just after my marriage when my relatives and friends talked of my writings and the laurels it brought along-she used to consider the narration as an extension of the enticement to lure her to an unworthy suitor. Pending opinion on disputed virtues, I had to look surreptitiously at the mirror a dozen times to ensure that my looks didn't suffer from any such ignominy. A true narcissist in the making perhaps, one may imagine. Now I am rather skeptical and doubtful if she changed her opinion (all great people never) but I find she has been tolerant over my indulgence and is less quarrelsome. That is some consolation indeed!

Mercury continues to soar declaring the advent of summer with all its attributes. In many cities energy outage in summer has become a recurring phenomenon and our city is no exception. I spent my childhood days in my village and summer was not at all agonizing then as we feel now in cities. We had a tall thatched house with wooden ceiling which kept the inward temperature comfortable both in summer and winter as well. Wooden plank ceiling was a middle class luxury then-which prevented vagaries of temperature to play down upon. Apart from that the forest cover, surrounding the village was a natural insulation. Electricity came to our village in mid-sixties when I was reading in High School. The lantern or the incandescent lamp was the source of light in the evening and admittedly it was a poor substitute for electric bulb but still life was not bad enough. Our progeny would never comprehend a decent living without electricity but they still enjoy their visits to reserve forest area and short stay in cottages or rest sheds in the reserve forest even without electricity. The reason is obvious-natural flora and fauna have tremendous charms of their own. The cool breeze, the music of the flowing stream, the bird songs of the jungle fowls in the morning and the sounds of the wild animals in the late evening are simply unique and beyond replication. In spite of our best efforts in implementing schemes for afforestation and the like, honestly we cannot recreate the scene and bring back the deep forest and the natural vegetation which grew of their own.

Post retirement I marked many changes in the surrounding. The road adjacent to our house transformed in to booby-trap than a road, the leaves of the trees have dried down, the sky has been constantly changing and by theory of relativity I ought to have changed. Surprisingly I remained unchanged or so it appeared. I looked at the mirror for the nth time but the figure didn't show any dramatic change. I asked my wife if it was not a bad omen. She stared at my eyes for a full minute and shouted-‘you have gone terribly insane’. The full meaning of her words dawned on me after a minute. I had an impression that after one year of retirement the spouse becomes irritated because of the constant presence of the husband in the house and bickering starts phase-wise; first disagreement, then minor disputes and finally scandalous scolding. But I have not completed six months of retirement and certainly her shouting didn't fit any of these. Suddenly my wife appeared from the kitchen with two cups of cold coffee and offering her sweetest smile said, ‘sip the coffee slowly and relax. It is summer and don’t think too much to find meaning in everything’. That left me at square one. I remember Bhagabat Gita and the advice of Lord Krisna-‘Karmanye vadhikaraste ma phaleshu kadachana’- You have the right to perform your actions but you are not entitled to the fruits of actions. But what is my action right now? Is it to hear the choicest invective from your better-half? I must find out.

   

Thoughts of April

The cuckoos have started singing but in contrast mercury soars abruptly recording forty degree Celsius.  With cuckoos singing how come it is not spring though early April is not summer either.

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.   (T.S.Eliot)

 So April has arrived with all fool’s day. While going for a walk at five thirty in the morning we have glimpses of the missing spring with cool breeze, dew drops here and there but only fleetingly. True, it mixes memory and desire but spring rain is conspicuous in its absence. Dull roots continue to remain dull without stirring. It is time we redefined seasons because the traditional clubbing of months has lost its sheen or so it seems. It is not uncommon to see young men losing their temper by drop of a hat. Is it because of these unthinkable changes? I would refrain from answering and leave it to the wise to answer but I have a confused idea that anger survives of its own without being influenced by climate or otherwise. While thinking of anger it occurs to me that I can also be accused of irrational temper during my young days. That again has no reference to the angry young man but my only worry is nobody told me- it is no greatness to lose your temper. If someone cajoles me I am willing to confess- vulnerability to anger has been my constant forte. I am sure I would get numerous testimonials to this indiscretion. I am not sure that I would ‘Look Back in Anger’. John Osborne would have been a great source to explore it. I would have gone on length to describe my various encounters but I heard my inner voice-no one talks of weaknesses in public. Oh yes, ‘Everyone is a moon and has a dark side which he never shows to anyone’. I would leave it at that. That reminds me of a story. One of my friends was a good story writer and once he requested another friend to make a fair copy of the rough one of his story. At the climax of the story the protagonist became emotional and confided before the heroine ‘I silently love you beyond words…’ Instead of three dots the fair copy writer had made half page dots in the manuscript. That irritated the writer and when he angrily demanded an explanation, the fair copy writer innocently said, ‘Look mate, love is a serious matter and what transpired between the hero and the heroine cannot be confined in three dots. Probably you have never loved. It needs a lot of space you know’.    

Space is something that defies description. In a family everyone needs private space to become individualistic. Sometimes I wonder if joint family was not a magic formula to merge private spaces and aspire for collective space instead. But then agrarian economy was the bond that cultivated such system. The idea is repulsive now as most people will be suffocated in the collective space. Why do I need space? Do I need it to nurture my arrogance, my ego or to live a life of righteousness-in my own way-with dignified disposition least affecting others? All the three possibilities are familiar to me because I have experimented all of it at different times knowingly or unknowingly. Then the question comes, are those satisfying? I would leave it at that.

To my mind, satisfaction is a rare feeling that comes and leaves simultaneously. Very rarely one is satisfied and when it comes it stays only for a short period. I came to such a negative point of view on my research on the topic based on the questions I have asked my friends on numerous occasions-‘Are you satisfied with your job/assignment/love life/salary/career prospect/working conditions/boss/posting etc. etc.?’ The answer is invariably negative.  The magic potion-I advised my wife-is to remain content with what she gets. In that case, why we don’t go to Himalayas then-my better-half demanded. But dear, I may venture to cover the distance but you cannot because of the condition of your legs -I replied.  Wearing her newly purchased sports shoes she challenged, ‘let us walk for a while to find out’. In many countries people tack paper fish on each other’s back as a trick and shout ‘April fish’ on April fool’s day.  I do not know what kind of prank my wife wants to play on fourth April instead of first April.  

Smiles

It appears to me that nature is the store house of all beautiful things in the world. In my formative years I was fortunate enough to share the unforgettable moments in the lap of nature. Our village was surrounded by good forest, if not thick one. In my childhood days my Grandfather, (his body was all muscles) with a spear in hand, used to take us for a walk in the early morning. We walk through the single road surrounded by forest cover on both the sides. While passing through the road we inhale the scent of the jungle flowers which was really amazing. As the dawn progresses we hear the awakening sounds of the jungle fowls in combination with the bird songs creating an unforgettable symphony as if welcoming us to their kingdom.  The experience was sheer ecstasy.  Now after more than fifty years whenever I visit my village the scene and the sight saddens me deep down under simply because we could not preserve our heritage. We have a beautiful road now which has been under the process of being widened to a four-lane but no forest, no wild life. During my school days we occasionally go to the forest in a group to roam around and feel the smell of forest which was engrossing and enchanting. Such roaming even for a short period invigorates and inspires but perhaps we have cruelly deprived our progeny from any such delight. I have visited zoos especially open air zoos but roaming in the forest is always different. During my short tenure in the Forest Department I chanced upon visiting Similipal Tiger Reserve Forest and enjoyed the reserve forest with beautiful wild life. I had another occasion to visit Kaziranga National Park. The elephant ride early in the morning with wild life all around is wonderful and it brought back memories of my childhood days. Take a child to any part of this unbridled forest and mark how sweetly he/she giggles. This innocent smile is the gift of God but why did we become so callous to steal their innocent pleasure in denuding the forest cover? A smile costs you nothing but means much to the beholder. I believe smile is the best part of one’s personality. A smiling woman is much more beautiful than a serene lady. Should someone tell my better-half about this natural ornament?

After my retirement, I had promised regular walk but somehow the schedule for ‘morning walk’ got delayed owing to many factors including the negligence of both the participants-but my wife would never take her share of blame. I imagine, it becomes a sort of habit with the ladies of her kind to find a sacrificial goat for all follies and foibles to the extent of inventing one if not possible otherwise. That is how I land invariably in her scheme of things. My better-half is a rare addict of TV serials and If I venture to point out the late night viewing as one of the causes of missed walk of the morning, she would show her real fangs of aggression in serpentine style by hissing –‘take dinner at 8 pm or none at all’. She is aware that I would virtually be famished by midnight if I took my dinner by 8 pm and such arrangement is a good trick to ensure abject surrender. ‘Diagnosis wizards’ would be a small complement to recognise their talent in discovering male weaknesses. During his weekend visit our son didn’t tolerate any such nonsense and purchased two pairs of sports shoes for us so that the usual mudslinging cannot be a factor for skipping the schedule. So it took off at last. I had set the alarm at 5.30am and it is working for the last three days without any hiccups. Wonder of wonders she has started smiling once again.

I faintly remember a story read many years back. A person was very fond of wild life and wild animals. He found a python in the forest and brought it home for his private zoo. Initially the reptile was consigned to the bath-room but the window was too big a passage to script its escape-route. Thereafter the python made numerous appearances in most unlikely places startling the onlookers on each encounters. The reptile developed an uncanny habit of looking its figure in the mirror and was noticed twice in front of the dressing table but each time it managed to escape. The person was worried that such startling encounters would play on the nerves for which he set a trap with choicest chickens and a mirror fixed on it. Lo and behold the python was trapped majestically looking at the mirror with perhaps a pleasing smile!

With the festival of colours round the corner, I wish my readers a happy Holi expecting many smiles in return.     

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stray thoughts

We are accustomed to the traditional ideas for which it becomes difficult to accept something new. That is equally applicable in case of tax reforms also. I remember, many eye brows were raised at the advent of Value Added Tax in place of state Sales Tax. The reaction was quite understandable. Persons associated with traditional Sales Tax had seen it working for decades in spite of various shortcomings. They were apprehensive of the backfire of the new pattern but nothing untoward happened. Whether the progressive tax system worked as expected or not is another puzzle but people became used to it. Whether you like it or not, getting used to worked as a wonderful alchemy. I imagine life has a different take on it because stereotype does not inspire and we love novelty. It is said that at no point of time a person is identical with himself because time passes through us and changes us in the process. What we call satisfaction is only the amalgamation of the subject with the object of desire, but the object of desire gets modified from time to time as we are constantly in a flux. The resultant effect is sadness which prevails in view of the emptiness created out of dissatisfaction.   But how come people believing in Buddhism strive to achieve ‘Nirvana’? Why did not the object of their desire get modified? The great Buddha preached, desire is the cause of unhappiness. If one wipes out the desire, he removes unhappiness too. Then what is this yearning for Nirvana. Is it not a desire? In spite of my best efforts I never got the answer. Probably I lack some critical faculties to understand the mythical meaning.

Now I must come back to the mundane world with all attendant attributes like exultation, melancholy, pleasure, pain, expectation, frustration juxtaposed together like a mosaic we call life. Given a choice, like Sariputta I would prefer life to Nirvana.

After my retirement, weekends became much more attractive than before. In fact, during my service tenure I never realized that we have something as enjoyable as weekends. It would certainly be a travesty of truth to state that neither I nor my wife enjoyed the Government holidays during my service days. Indeed we did, but the difference is, those holidays were interlaced with official assignments as well, inviting a hell lot of pleasantries (!) from my better half. In retrospect I feel one could be earnest and diligent without compromising holidays but then the realization is too little and probably too late.   What differentiated the present weekends to the previous is the presence of our only child on each Saturday terminating the weeklong separation and our consequential appearance in malls, market places and add to it the journey to Her Highness’s delight-her mother’s place. I am not a bad driver but the lady preferred our son to drive us around.  We had an extended weekend last week as we planned a long drive and stay at Visakhapatnam for a couple of days. Visakhapatnam is a beautiful city with a long coastline to enjoy different sea beaches. The ornamental beach road is a delight to watch. The to and fro drive was wonderful because the national highway has been suitably modernized with no intervening railway level crossings which prevents you from getting tired. The people of the state are affable and their civic sense is commendable. We had a short but satisfying holiday.

The Muses failed again and I sat idly before the laptop expecting the unexpected to happen. I remember a story where the Ringmaster of the circus was intimidating the leading lady by saying, ‘if you fall down from the rope during the rope-walk I would get you married to that donkey standing over there’. The donkey overheard the conversation and was pretty happy that he had a prospect at last. I have begun to believe that  I live with that donkey’s prospect. Stray thoughts indeed.

The three Injunctions

There are days one feels desolate without rhyme or reason. Nothing seems to happen in your way nor does such feeling inspire confidence. The experience is tormenting because Muse blissfully goes to slumber and refuses to come to your aid. The situation is akin to, ‘Life is a tale/ Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury/Signifying nothing’. The soliloquy reverberates keeping you numb in the process. But there is hope remembering Beelzebub’s inspiring words in Paradise Lost “What though the field be lost? /All is not lost; the unconquerable Will, / And study of revenge, immortal hate, / And courage never to submit or yield “. Oh yes, it is the unconquerable will and the courage - never to submit- that pulls out from this melancholic impasse. Such a feeling is not an isolated incident. It has recurred many times in the past- ever since I started to understand the universe a little in my small way and more particularly learned to write.

Damyata, Datta and Dayadhvam-the three injunctions- be self-controlled, be charitable and be compassionate are the prescriptions of the Creator to regulate the unconquerable will. Did I transgress the injunctions in my eagerness to say more?

Budget, Tax planning, Examinations and Transfer are doing their rounds in March. In the process spring has become the subject of collective amnesia. Our children do not believe that there was one such season called spring in this part of the world. With the fading winter, who knows their children may be wondering about a season called winter. In my childhood days we had brief encounter with spring in February and March. The atmosphere was cool and pleasant till ‘Holi’-the festival of colours. The surrounding was lush green meadows with birds chirping their melodious best. With umbrellas around to ward off summer my son and his friends would call it a huge joke if I recount my rendezvous with spring.  Such are the vagaries of nature, or more correctly our atrocious lust for life in destroying forest and upsetting nature. Is it ‘Damyata’ or the self-restraint? 

People talk of corruption in high places and stringent laws to curb such practices. Probably we are oblivious of our own mind set. We are accustomed to acquire, possess, gain, expand, grab and the like. We must love to give in charity. ‘Datta’- give in charity basically means-charitable in disposition, in feeling, in understanding. Do not take what you have not given, do not take what you have not possessed. Have we understood all these? Have we changed our mind set to accommodate the prescription of the creator? Love always means to give and not to possess. Reverse is the current trend if you assess realistically. Where do we stand? Is it Datta? Many are cynical about my observations. I humbly concede to the correctness of their assessment. Please allow me to differ.

I have high regards for a dear colleague of mine, who is six years junior to me in service although two years senior to me in age. He was upright, honest and compassionate. He is very fond of his only son and got him married before his retirement. Like many fathers, he is an indulgent father and pampered his son like anything. I got the disturbing news that his daughter-in-law has threatened to lodge a complaint against him for dowry-torture. I was shocked and got to know that the lady never does her household chores and instructed her mother-in-law to do everything. She wakes up at 8 am in the morning, goes for different social engagement to return smartly at 1.30pm to take lunch. After the birth of the first kid she moves outside for other engagements and returns at 9 pm for dinner. Exasperated by her attitude, the father-in-law one day suggested that she should take care of the child and the household chores so that they could go for a pilgrimage. That angered her so much that she threatened of dowry torture.

Come what may, I would violate ‘Dayadvam’ the prescription for being merciful. God, forgive me for my cruelty but I cannot possibly forgive this lady for her cruelty too.