The Introspection

Hey buddy,

It’s been long since I’ve seen you. I’m sorry, but the last month had been very busy. I had delved deep into the history to bring out my former self—the always cheerful bud who would just laugh out at anything; the bringer of smile and an optimistic mortal who was fooled into believing that it’s the manner in which you respond to a particular situation that makes all the difference, the approach that could even turn a calamity into a blessing. Thanks much, Robin! But I couldn’t handle the positive overdose.

Some 250 kms away from the noise and pollution and the fast moving metro life, Maverick was sitting on a concrete bench gazing at the hills to his left. He was so lost in the lush green environment of Sattal that he forgot to sip coffee from the stainless steel mug he was holding between his fingers; and when the only vapour he could see were the ones coming out from his mouth, Maverick gently placed the mug by his side and went on to appreciate the beauty that had enthralled his senses.

There was something strange about the place, something familiar that reminded him of his home where even now, the rose bushes stood in front of his welcoming gate, whilst the violet vegetable grew beside the water tap. His grandfather still stares out from the window, waiting anxiously to hear the sound of his younger son calling out to him, which sadly, never came in the last ten years. He would attentively read the mythological tales in the afternoon, but with the faintest sound outside, his hopeful heart would force his gaze, but all they see are the desolated path of mud and bricks.

His mother, on the other hand, would often wake up with a smile on her face. She would tell Maverick stories of how a guardian angel was watching over them. But now, the boy has grown up and gone to a distant land. There is a few exchange of emotions, but in their heart, both acknowledge his presence and many a time, pay that anonymous divine soul a visit in their dreams.

Meanwhile, at the altitude of 1,370 m, a westerly wind gently caressed Maverick’s face. Though he had never set foot in the mountains, the air seemed to be calling out his name, carrying a scent that he had known for long. Out of curiosity, he looked into that direction and through the twigs and the leaves—colored in shades of yellow and green—he saw a tree unlike any other on the hills. While the rest were slanted perpendicular to the gradient, this one never yielded; it stood magnificently straight in all weathers. The rays of the sun danced merrily upon its branches and through the leaves, the bright orange and yellow filtered out into a thousand fragments.

It was only when the magical rays fell upon his face that he realised that he had been looking at his life all wrong. Ever since he took his first step, he was talked into being happy, oh! they even named him so that he wouldn’t forget.

If you think only happiness is euphoric, think again! Ask a man who had his first heartbreak. Ask him about the empty walks he takes after midnight; ask those warm tears running down his face; ask those sudden shrieks, the crazy dance under the shower; ask his silence, his sudden lack of company; ask why he vows never to fall in love again; or, in some case, to fall and get hurt again. Ain’t these blissful?

Talking about experience, playing a casanova was a better deal than falling in love. With each new face came the same story; new indulgences, same consequences. Lost and tired, Maverick finally called a truce with destiny.

 

Letter to my daughter — Remember Me!

Dear Vanya,

Each one of us here has our own story: some are making merry, while the others are frustrated living theirs’; everyone’s life is at war: some relish being in the battleground whereas others protest the bloodshed, the inadequate food and water, the sleepless nights, and the suffering. The separation from their beloved torments them more than the cold wind biting their chest. Each morning, their forlorn heart beats louder than the shots fired upon them, and every night, they fear their soul would escape—through the hole pierced by the enemy’s bullet—without having said a final goodbye.

Who would cry when they breathe their last? Will the decade of silence speak for itself? Will the lady with the velvet robe come to his funeral and offer prayers for him? Will she sit beside his grave and weep till the dawn? Will she think of him in her dreams? Maybe not. But they keep on keeping on, don’t they? Despite knowing that they hardly matter to the person who matters them the most. Ever imagined, how they do it? Well, it’s the magical four-lettered word: HOPE! It’s the optimism of seeing a new sun on a familiar horizon that motivates them to take one more step—a step towards the liberation of their soul.

Will she think of him in her dreams? Maybe not. But they keep on keeping on, don’t they? Despite knowing that they hardly matter to the person who matters them the most.

Vanya, my dear, they’re a strange lot of men. Mostly, they’re silent and lost in their own world. Their life might be full of struggle, but they won’t breathe a word about it even to their closest aide. I’ve seen them walk into the woods, and never come out it for hours. Hah! You could spot them easily. Saw that guy with his hands in his pocket. No, he wasn’t chilled—he simply didn’t know what to do with them. They like to keep their conversation short and simple and would avoid looking directly into your eyes. Well, their world is different. And, mysterious!

My beautiful girl, it’s remarkable how a single encounter could turn your world upside down. One person, one moment: that’s all it takes to ignite a disturbance in your heart, a whirlwind mighty enough to throw your life into disarray. Everything starts appearing hazy. Confusion, doubt, embarrassment, regret—that’s how you feel every time you think about it. Heightened emotions, loneliness, sudden loss of interest—the remorse just keeps begging for more.

There’s so much to learn, a lot to discover, and this—ah! This is just the beginning.

But hold on, my dear. Be brave! It’s just a phase, and it shall pass. After a few months, all of it will cease to matter. You’ll find that this was one of the many life-learning lessons, equally important as taking your first step and falling halfway or learning to pronounce a word after stammering for days. There’s so much to learn, a lot to discover, and this—ah! This is just the beginning.

Observe the nature around you. Behold the mighty mountains and the stormy seas—lose yourself into its magnificence. Do what your heart has yearned for long! Question the established rules! Question why people desire happiness; instead, why not find pleasure in melancholy? Why is the light attributed with ‘positiveness’, and the dark as ‘negative’? Why are there so many rules and regulations governing our life?  Why the racism and the caste and religious divide? Question the government, question the people… But most of all, my bud, question yourself!

How does it feel to stand your ground in a storm? Or, taking a plunge in that dark river in January? Do you fear it, my love! Does your heart rate accelerate? If it does, and it should, take a deep breath. Close your eyes and remember me. And, I shall be there by your side, holding your hands, and whispering into your ears: You can do it! Just like the old times. 

Your proud papa.