"So, mind my words do not ever fall in love", that was Reverend Father Leslie Almieda speaking to me after a spirited discussion on love and life. Around him sat a group of boys, all in their early teens 12 -14 years of age. The eldest must not have been more than 15 and they were hearing attentively to what the good shephard of people's souls said about Love - how it was important to life - and how one should love and that a man who could not or did not love had no God waiting for him ever.
Hence, it was very surprising when after hearing of what Love meant to me and all boys around me, feeling impressed with my enunciation of the principles of love and what I percieve is love, were busy congratulating me for my ideals, the good priest should have actually said something so contrary to the trend.
"Do a favour on your own self, sweet child, never fall in love; you are not made for love", he insisted!
I was surprised, was it because what I was looking for was very ideal or were my expectations for and from love too high; the old sage gravely shook his head and said that none of that was true; what I had said was the bare minimum required and then hastened to add, you will be seared by it - you are too pure for it - Love today is not pure - you live in an age when people who throw love in the dustbin and walk on, for who really cares for love; it's got no value and is available in plenty.
The young boy could not understand what the good father meant but today I do - maybe the good father could see within me - the ugliness of my soul may have been laid naked, bare, unclothed in front of him and maybe he knew beforehand that I was a Devil and the biggest folly of a Devil would be to actually fall in love - A Devil should only concentrate on doing what he's supposed to do - flirt, seduce, play - everthing under the sun except love - for a Devil's love is all consuming.
No one can love like a devil does or maybe no one deserves to be loved the way a devil loves - I do not know but Love has been quity a tricky customer for me
In the age where Love is easily thrown aside on the streets as garbage and people talk of interesting mantras like 'Move on' and 'Get on With Life'; why should anyone love the way we Devils do - with complete devotion and dedication, only to find that one day, our dedication and devotion would be found lying on the floor, adoring some gutter, that our feelings will be used with the equivalence of a sanitary napkin to clean one's compulsions and then to be thrown on the sides.
But then you don't go looking for love, love finds you and what can be done about it - so despite the warnings of my good teacher we Devils will continue to love and lose brutally in love and then again still love.
Loving is Second Nature to Devils.
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
Monday, 1 September 2008
Mental Strength
It was a sunny day in 1987 - I stood in the claustrophobic alley between two imposing houses in a quiet chawl - behind me was the enormous gutter - the one that that was as black as darkness and as winding and fearful as a snake - my reflections and those of my friend- that part dirty part sublime thing called Conscience could be seen in the dark waters of that abyss - one that we routinely avoided. Behind us grew those green undergrowths that have a way of growing even where they should not.
"So, do you think you have the mental courage to walk out? Do you have the guts in you to stand for what you think is right and the world at large and society in particular, thinks is wrong? Do you have the courage to follow your heart when all that your heart can promise you is nothing but dignity? Can you consign your life to deep pain so that your personal values may remain sacrosanct? Can you suffer all that society heaps on you for a moment of personal honour? Are you mentally tough?"
It was my conscience asking me a final question. For a long period of time, I do not know how long, maybe a second, maybe a lifetime, I had been entangled by that one question.
I wanted to live, not to survive.... I wanted to soar into the beautiful skies like an eagle, not wallow on the roads like a chameleon, I wanted to live life on my terms and not on the doles meted out ot me by my society.
It was a tough time. On one side, stood my feelings of loyalty, duty and my notions of family and on the other stood my values, my refusal to compromise, my firm dedication to the Truth.
Was I mentally tough to stand when all around me would keep me down?
And stand I did! Alone, Lonely and weary, I stood alone to one and all; I refused to take a 'no' for an answer; every battle of life, I battled alone - I was the soldier of my fortune, I, the general of my undertakings - none could defeat my purpose - blood gushed out mercilessly of the wounds that time threw on my aspirations, blood flowed like water from the gaping holes that life put through me, every knife of those I loved pained me, each and every of those daggers was thrust on me with a vigour I could not comprehend, I grimaced in pain as each of those knives pained me, seared my consciousness and made my heart into the whore of life.
Still I never cowed down - my biggest regret and pride in life strangely remains the same - I never compromised!
Nothing could stop me in my tracks - no weapon was strong enough to blow me to smithereens, no power strong enough to strangle my dreams and my ambitions - till..... till today......
After fighting a lonely battle, a battle where I saw more lows than highs, where I saw more defeats than victories, a battle where I saw more pain than pleasure, where I saw more losses than success and still refused to yield - I have been today given the best compliment of all - THAT I AM NOT MENTALLY TOUGH!
O! The irony of it all!
I would laugh at my shock had I the power to laugh - somehow there is no emotion left - except a final smile at the viccisitudes of life - It would be so comic, so hilarious, had it not been so painful!
I remember my days - those instances of my life - where I stood unmoving at the altar of so many blackmails, so many emotional tantrums... I remembered those days when I stood starving in front of a hotel and was still dignified to act as if I had had the best luncheon this side of the city.
I remember the day when my dad (the man I loved the most in my life) humiliated me in front of an entire marriage procession and I in a bid to perform my duty of a son, could only smile and eat those tasteless morsels of food despite all humiliations - I remember my uncles and cousins helping me to more and more food, knowing my discomfiture and I eating all of these while my father's words rang true in my head.
I remember being very hungry for days on end and then letting do with a cup of tea and 2 biscuits for an entire day and sometimes couple of days - and then managing to hear my friends tell all that they were 'so generous' to take care of me - how they were spending 'INR 5 on me on a daily basis' and still smiling at them and teaching them the finest tricks of mathematics.
I remember being very hungry one night and passing near a dust bin and finding some rich brat having thrown packets of chivda and farsan and then climbing inside the bin to retrieve it and then feeling so very ashamed of my own self, silently emptying all of it in a gutter with my own hands while I stood hungry and starved.
I remember buying a plate of scrambled eggs and then suddenly being requested by a friend for food and then watching him gobble up everything leaving for me only one piece of bread for me. Moving ahead to have it only to find a stray dog take it away and then laugh it all off with a beautiful song.
There are so many things I remember - the urge to be different, society's ruthless punishment for daring to be different, family and friends who would take advantage of me and enemies who never let go of a chance to ridicule me..... still I persevered ...... it was tough to fight... there were always portents of an easy path - to accept what others said was the gospel truth and to kill my individuality
I had everything to win by doing just that - my family, my love, my individuality -everything but I still held on for my values - I had become mentally so resilient that nothing was enough to throw me out of my firm resolve - I had grown up long before I actually grew up.
Today as I look back at those days, I can only think of my amusement and sense of bewilderment of how I survived som many barbs and still remained with my dignity intact.
In the eyes of the society, today I stand, not at the top of the world but considering what I had to face all my life from my friends and foes, family and others, love and hatred, still a surviving relic of my success - but the price that I have paid for reaching where I have - who wishes to pay such prices any more. Today I can throw away money, the way some people throw away love but what value is it to me? It doesn't please me any longer.
I have lost all and am still losing all that matters to me
In a way, I am still the same 6 year old boy who still sits on the steps of a beautiful white church, as the sun sets and hopes that someone will come and take him home - the times go on increasing, the shadows go on lengthening but no one come to take him home. He does not despair, holds his head held high, clutches his back tightly against his chest, the faithful have started coming in droves - he sees the image of Jesus Christ looking at him through painted glasses, he smiles at that figure on the cross and the figure only looks at him saddened.
Then, slowly as if aware that he has been forgotten, he walks up and starts walking - slowly and steadily to the cemetary and then falls asleep against some crosses - unknowing that one day his own life would be a skillful navigation of life's roads with his own cross to bear.....
Is this what Jesus meant when he asked God:
But still somewhere the child still exists and like a fool, he still loves, he still hopes that someone would be ready to sacrifice everything for him - well, children are so foolish - their trust so stupid - what do I do with this heart of mine?
And yes - I wish I could be mentally and emotionally strong - for as all say - maybe I am not!
"So, do you think you have the mental courage to walk out? Do you have the guts in you to stand for what you think is right and the world at large and society in particular, thinks is wrong? Do you have the courage to follow your heart when all that your heart can promise you is nothing but dignity? Can you consign your life to deep pain so that your personal values may remain sacrosanct? Can you suffer all that society heaps on you for a moment of personal honour? Are you mentally tough?"
It was my conscience asking me a final question. For a long period of time, I do not know how long, maybe a second, maybe a lifetime, I had been entangled by that one question.
I wanted to live, not to survive.... I wanted to soar into the beautiful skies like an eagle, not wallow on the roads like a chameleon, I wanted to live life on my terms and not on the doles meted out ot me by my society.
It was a tough time. On one side, stood my feelings of loyalty, duty and my notions of family and on the other stood my values, my refusal to compromise, my firm dedication to the Truth.
Was I mentally tough to stand when all around me would keep me down?
And stand I did! Alone, Lonely and weary, I stood alone to one and all; I refused to take a 'no' for an answer; every battle of life, I battled alone - I was the soldier of my fortune, I, the general of my undertakings - none could defeat my purpose - blood gushed out mercilessly of the wounds that time threw on my aspirations, blood flowed like water from the gaping holes that life put through me, every knife of those I loved pained me, each and every of those daggers was thrust on me with a vigour I could not comprehend, I grimaced in pain as each of those knives pained me, seared my consciousness and made my heart into the whore of life.
Still I never cowed down - my biggest regret and pride in life strangely remains the same - I never compromised!
Nothing could stop me in my tracks - no weapon was strong enough to blow me to smithereens, no power strong enough to strangle my dreams and my ambitions - till..... till today......
After fighting a lonely battle, a battle where I saw more lows than highs, where I saw more defeats than victories, a battle where I saw more pain than pleasure, where I saw more losses than success and still refused to yield - I have been today given the best compliment of all - THAT I AM NOT MENTALLY TOUGH!
O! The irony of it all!
I would laugh at my shock had I the power to laugh - somehow there is no emotion left - except a final smile at the viccisitudes of life - It would be so comic, so hilarious, had it not been so painful!
I remember my days - those instances of my life - where I stood unmoving at the altar of so many blackmails, so many emotional tantrums... I remembered those days when I stood starving in front of a hotel and was still dignified to act as if I had had the best luncheon this side of the city.
I remember the day when my dad (the man I loved the most in my life) humiliated me in front of an entire marriage procession and I in a bid to perform my duty of a son, could only smile and eat those tasteless morsels of food despite all humiliations - I remember my uncles and cousins helping me to more and more food, knowing my discomfiture and I eating all of these while my father's words rang true in my head.
I remember being very hungry for days on end and then letting do with a cup of tea and 2 biscuits for an entire day and sometimes couple of days - and then managing to hear my friends tell all that they were 'so generous' to take care of me - how they were spending 'INR 5 on me on a daily basis' and still smiling at them and teaching them the finest tricks of mathematics.
I remember being very hungry one night and passing near a dust bin and finding some rich brat having thrown packets of chivda and farsan and then climbing inside the bin to retrieve it and then feeling so very ashamed of my own self, silently emptying all of it in a gutter with my own hands while I stood hungry and starved.
I remember buying a plate of scrambled eggs and then suddenly being requested by a friend for food and then watching him gobble up everything leaving for me only one piece of bread for me. Moving ahead to have it only to find a stray dog take it away and then laugh it all off with a beautiful song.
There are so many things I remember - the urge to be different, society's ruthless punishment for daring to be different, family and friends who would take advantage of me and enemies who never let go of a chance to ridicule me..... still I persevered ...... it was tough to fight... there were always portents of an easy path - to accept what others said was the gospel truth and to kill my individuality
I had everything to win by doing just that - my family, my love, my individuality -everything but I still held on for my values - I had become mentally so resilient that nothing was enough to throw me out of my firm resolve - I had grown up long before I actually grew up.
Today as I look back at those days, I can only think of my amusement and sense of bewilderment of how I survived som many barbs and still remained with my dignity intact.
In the eyes of the society, today I stand, not at the top of the world but considering what I had to face all my life from my friends and foes, family and others, love and hatred, still a surviving relic of my success - but the price that I have paid for reaching where I have - who wishes to pay such prices any more. Today I can throw away money, the way some people throw away love but what value is it to me? It doesn't please me any longer.
I have lost all and am still losing all that matters to me
In a way, I am still the same 6 year old boy who still sits on the steps of a beautiful white church, as the sun sets and hopes that someone will come and take him home - the times go on increasing, the shadows go on lengthening but no one come to take him home. He does not despair, holds his head held high, clutches his back tightly against his chest, the faithful have started coming in droves - he sees the image of Jesus Christ looking at him through painted glasses, he smiles at that figure on the cross and the figure only looks at him saddened.
Then, slowly as if aware that he has been forgotten, he walks up and starts walking - slowly and steadily to the cemetary and then falls asleep against some crosses - unknowing that one day his own life would be a skillful navigation of life's roads with his own cross to bear.....
Is this what Jesus meant when he asked God:
"God, why have you forsaken me?"I understand that now; but then Christ God never forsook you and me... well.... God never accepted me!!!
But still somewhere the child still exists and like a fool, he still loves, he still hopes that someone would be ready to sacrifice everything for him - well, children are so foolish - their trust so stupid - what do I do with this heart of mine?
Aaghaaz Ke Bin Tera Anjaam Taye Ho Chuka,I wish I could have been cold and distant - I wish I could be like others - openly selfish - able to force others through emotional blackmail and all such other ways to do my bidding - maybe in my personal life, I should have learnt ot do what I want to do - things would have been so much easier
Iss Paar Aahein, Uss Paar Aansoon, Hum Yahan Naa Wahaan
And yes - I wish I could be mentally and emotionally strong - for as all say - maybe I am not!
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