It's 3:19 in the morning right now. Every night for long I have thought about getting back at the seat of writing down whatever I am thinking, but I realized I was nothing but lazy. So what made me sit down and finally do it..? It's something which hits us once in a while, pretty often through life... Rock Bottom!
But I am jumping ahead of myself. Let's start with something more subtle... Change. Ok, maybe it's not that subtle always, still it is something we all have to accept. Wise ones accept and adapt to it, some just accept it as fate and the stubborn ones keep fighting it through either denial or defiance or maybe both. All of us play either of the above roles at every "change" we face... change of roles at different points. But do we change?
My grand-dad always used to tell me that as a child I should pick up good habits and character, because at that time I was like soft clay ("kachhi mitti"). He said, that sooner than I think, I would be set into a mould; that even if I wanted, I wouldn't be able to change (without breaking something inside me). I used to think I he was being over-critical and that I will always be able to mould myself, as I wanted to. Hell, there were quite a few things I wanted him to change about himself, and even though knowing they weren't wise habits, he carried them on. So I thought, maybe this is how as we grow older, we make this excuse of becoming less adjusting, to stick to our cherished drawbacks.
And suddenly, I think of him tonight and realize how important that little statement was. Change is something I have never fell short of. People, places, emotions, ideologies... ample of them all. And at every crossroad in life, I have dug deep into the same pool of ideals, virtues, desires and beliefs, every time. It is as if whatever was put into the empty glass of a growing mind, stuck and most of the new stuff that pours in, either just overflows off the brim and some of it sticks, which can mix with the already present "stuff" in the glass. So if the basis of our choices is still always the same, do we ever change or just keep hardening into what we are currently?
I am sure most of you (and me likewise) will be thinking,"Of course I change(d). Imagine what I would have done in the same situation few years back, which I faced in so-n-so manner recently". Of course your point is completely valid. And so is my question. We will have to "imagine" what we would have done or not done in the same situation. As dynamic as our experiences and thoughts are, core values don't change so often, because they stand alone with no alternatives. You choose to have them or you don't. It's not a matter of good or evil. It's a matter of choice. And once that choice is made, there's no looking back; because "I Am, what I do" (I will save "I Do, what I am" for a later work). It's hard to make hard choices, harder to live with them.
So if one's character is the clay, values are the mould, and crossroads and choices are the roasting inferno, don't we actually get set into our mould? Since we made those hard choices, and we have to stand by them, the basis of those choices stick to our mould, to keep us sane and sorted out and thus more experiences we go through in life, the lesser susceptible we become to changing ourselves. And if one really does take upon himself/herself, to change their mould, it cannot happen without shaking up your roots, and for some time leaving you totally clueless. In many of the extreme cases, this would lead what we usually call a Nervous Breakdown.
Hard choices... they are not that hard, personally speaking, but many a times their aftermath is. And sometimes, the right choice is hardest one to make, not to mention it's as if all hell breaks lose right after it. And then you find yourself between our infamous Rock Bottom and a hard place.
We wonder, "Did I make the right choice?". But is there a point now, thinking about it? Choice has been made for better or for worse. If it's your worse, you are the one who has to deal with it. So maybe life is interspersed with these stars called choices. Some shine, some burn. If you hit rock bottom, and there's no end to it, then wait, because nobody said rock bottom is momentary. It can stretch for a n unpleasant amount of time.But life is still simple, "You make a choice, and you don't look back"!
Rock bottom... it is as much the lowest point in your life as well as the most profitable. Why profitable? Well if you've got nothing to lose in regards to the situation a.k.a. rock bottom, you can only go up now, that means profit with no risk of further liabilities. But the funniest and cruelest thing of hitting rock bottom is, you don't know exactly that you've hit rock bottom. It just feels like it's rock bottom, no assurance it is. You will be extremely surprised as to "What could be worse than this?" until shit happens. Before the ball bounces back you are again and again surprised as to what not to take for granted. And unfortunately we do start taking so many important things for granted until we lose them, or in some fortunate cases they are threatened to be taken away from us.
Getting up is the only option. You can not cry, brood, procrastinate, indulge in self-pity forever. Life calls, and you have to take it. And starting the journey back to achieving their goals, one realizes what has changed within. For some, the moulds are broken, they are left to face the inferno of choices again. Some face the crossroads with a dent here and there in there moulds and others with moulds made of more stubborn (or tougher) stuff not changing at all. Still you have to get up.
A wise person once told me that before I judge myself for the choices I made in the past, I should clearly understand that person I was then, and the person I am now; for better or for worse. That is the only way I can make peace with my past and live my present, hoping for a desirable future.
So I can look back at the choices made, but not standing where I was before. Because if I do, I put myself in the agony of a choice that has already been made, inflicting the shroud of doubt and dilemna upon myself unnecessarily.
And let's face it, once you've hit Rock bottom, one can always give himself/herself a break :)
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Thursday, October 25, 2007
SENILITY
I have so many thoughts of how to begin this conversation between us, I keep thinking how to Introduce this meeting, how to Initiate an exchange... How to "Start"? Nevertheless what crops up my mind is a new born baby. A life just started, a journey of experience beginning, the first few pages of Book of Emotions & Choices.
Somehow, for a moment, like an unruly Reader I am, my attention diverts to the last pages of the Book. The Apparent End of the Story that keeps the audience grasped into its web as intricately as the characters. And once the journey begins, the only real Destination is the End.
Old Age is something that is bestowed upon most of the living (not to forget Ageing is not that uncommon a term or process associated with Non-Living also). On the way to old age, an individual having traversed the paths of life, has collected moments of joy, sadness, success, failure... the list is endless; yet when the feeling of senility sinks in, they seem to realize the fragility of their time, of course in their own unique ways. Some double their efforts to achieve what they couldn't, some start securing a future for their children in their absence, some kick back and decide to enjoy what they had been putting off for so long and some unfortunate ones are haunted by the regrets of life, of the guilt of having made mistakes, of the feeling of being a disappointment.
Whatever be One's choice during the final stage of their earthly time, all feel short of time. Some follow their choices on the path of virtue, For some the end justifies the means. Yet, most of them find themselves left alone as opposite to the desire of being with who or what they hold dear. They have heard the words "World has changed... Generation Gap... It's time for someone new" in their own times, but it's now that their true meaning sinks in.
Old aged people are not always the nicest (Believe me, I know) but yet, they are as fragile as babies, and equally important. Most of them have so many things to say, but in the meagre 24 hours a day anyone hardly has the time for casual listening. But well as stubborn as babies, they would chatter away anyway (all those who have had grandparents or old parents knows what I mean). Most of them are so Proud of them being senior they wouldn't listen to a word anyone else says. Yet, in all the stubbornness, I get a hint of effort to affirm that they are needed, still wanted... that time has not changed so much as to leave them behind.
What is so stupid about us Humans is we never realize the true importance of what we have is until we've lost it. As the young, we lose time, and then brood over it when we are old. And as we are old, the young never seem to realize what we mean to them until we are gone.
For a story I remember an old Caretaker of the Paying Guest house I stayed in during the last year. He chatted with me whenever I went back to the Guest House, complained to me about all the other tenants, asked me about any complaints, even vented out some anger somebody else deserved on me when I asked him to get something for me (he apologized in no time after that, and sincerely I would add). He was working 3 states away from his entire family, all alone here, just so that he could add something to the family's meagre earnings; even though he had 2 sons. He faced the dilemmas of obeying the landlady or letting the tenants have their way. As is usually the case of a good simple guy, he faced the music (I wonder how it is music; most of the time it comprises of words more killing than a bee's sting), from both the landlady and the other tenant boys. And he told me all this, because I thought it was nice to have someone to at least listen to once you were back home.
When it was time for me to leave that place this year, I never expected anyone to be bothered except the landlady (she had to give back me deposit). But when I told him the decision to depart, for a minute he just stood there, silent & open-mouthed. At that time he held my bag and asked me not to go. I told him it was normal, there would be some other guy in my place soon. But he insisted that I stay. He even offered to be at my service whenever I wanted, and enquired if there was any wrong doing on his part. As I explained to him in unimportant words, tears peeked from his eyes. He asked who he would talk to when I am gone. Who would help him out in explaining things to otherwise arrogant young brats who hardly cared what he wanted to say or did. I could not answer. And then he went down. I kept on packing thinking about him, his plight, the tone of his plea for me to stay. Was it that important to him the little time I listened and talked to him?
People of Old Age, are as varied in their personalities as any group of Humans would be. Still what bothers me is, that are treated as more unimportant than the rest. Senility is as time of cherishing as is any other stage of life. But it brings with itself many a curses too... illnesses, frail bodies, withering minds. Maybe the difference that is ascertained by it is that an Old person needs to be cherished by us more, rather than the other way around. Because once time is lost, there's no bringing it back.
One has to accept being Human. Young and Old both. Still... I wonder if we have begun considering Being Human as our "Saving Grace", as our excuse.
Until next time.... :)
Somehow, for a moment, like an unruly Reader I am, my attention diverts to the last pages of the Book. The Apparent End of the Story that keeps the audience grasped into its web as intricately as the characters. And once the journey begins, the only real Destination is the End.
Old Age is something that is bestowed upon most of the living (not to forget Ageing is not that uncommon a term or process associated with Non-Living also). On the way to old age, an individual having traversed the paths of life, has collected moments of joy, sadness, success, failure... the list is endless; yet when the feeling of senility sinks in, they seem to realize the fragility of their time, of course in their own unique ways. Some double their efforts to achieve what they couldn't, some start securing a future for their children in their absence, some kick back and decide to enjoy what they had been putting off for so long and some unfortunate ones are haunted by the regrets of life, of the guilt of having made mistakes, of the feeling of being a disappointment.
Whatever be One's choice during the final stage of their earthly time, all feel short of time. Some follow their choices on the path of virtue, For some the end justifies the means. Yet, most of them find themselves left alone as opposite to the desire of being with who or what they hold dear. They have heard the words "World has changed... Generation Gap... It's time for someone new" in their own times, but it's now that their true meaning sinks in.
Old aged people are not always the nicest (Believe me, I know) but yet, they are as fragile as babies, and equally important. Most of them have so many things to say, but in the meagre 24 hours a day anyone hardly has the time for casual listening. But well as stubborn as babies, they would chatter away anyway (all those who have had grandparents or old parents knows what I mean). Most of them are so Proud of them being senior they wouldn't listen to a word anyone else says. Yet, in all the stubbornness, I get a hint of effort to affirm that they are needed, still wanted... that time has not changed so much as to leave them behind.
What is so stupid about us Humans is we never realize the true importance of what we have is until we've lost it. As the young, we lose time, and then brood over it when we are old. And as we are old, the young never seem to realize what we mean to them until we are gone.
For a story I remember an old Caretaker of the Paying Guest house I stayed in during the last year. He chatted with me whenever I went back to the Guest House, complained to me about all the other tenants, asked me about any complaints, even vented out some anger somebody else deserved on me when I asked him to get something for me (he apologized in no time after that, and sincerely I would add). He was working 3 states away from his entire family, all alone here, just so that he could add something to the family's meagre earnings; even though he had 2 sons. He faced the dilemmas of obeying the landlady or letting the tenants have their way. As is usually the case of a good simple guy, he faced the music (I wonder how it is music; most of the time it comprises of words more killing than a bee's sting), from both the landlady and the other tenant boys. And he told me all this, because I thought it was nice to have someone to at least listen to once you were back home.
When it was time for me to leave that place this year, I never expected anyone to be bothered except the landlady (she had to give back me deposit). But when I told him the decision to depart, for a minute he just stood there, silent & open-mouthed. At that time he held my bag and asked me not to go. I told him it was normal, there would be some other guy in my place soon. But he insisted that I stay. He even offered to be at my service whenever I wanted, and enquired if there was any wrong doing on his part. As I explained to him in unimportant words, tears peeked from his eyes. He asked who he would talk to when I am gone. Who would help him out in explaining things to otherwise arrogant young brats who hardly cared what he wanted to say or did. I could not answer. And then he went down. I kept on packing thinking about him, his plight, the tone of his plea for me to stay. Was it that important to him the little time I listened and talked to him?
People of Old Age, are as varied in their personalities as any group of Humans would be. Still what bothers me is, that are treated as more unimportant than the rest. Senility is as time of cherishing as is any other stage of life. But it brings with itself many a curses too... illnesses, frail bodies, withering minds. Maybe the difference that is ascertained by it is that an Old person needs to be cherished by us more, rather than the other way around. Because once time is lost, there's no bringing it back.
One has to accept being Human. Young and Old both. Still... I wonder if we have begun considering Being Human as our "Saving Grace", as our excuse.
Until next time.... :)
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