History...

There is something about history that is always just out of your grasp - all pervasive and still elusive.

My journey began in a country that was steeped in history.
History that dated back to several millennia. A history of migration, invasion, war, disease, annihilation, colonization, liberation and modernization.
It is a country with so much history that it lies unseen, uncared for, and unheard; by the streetside - like a homeless traveling through time, our heritage lay neglected. Allowed to disintegrate at a steady pace.

Where I grew up, history was omnipresent and unavoidable - lining the streets, dotting the towns and villages. Hundreds of years were summarized in passing. A few sentences were all they would merit because there was so much time to be covered.

History had dug its roots so deep here, that we wanted to break free.

Some of us would run from this very history to embrace other cultures and civilizations.
Some others would feel the weight of these age old customs, traditions, rituals and cultures binding them, tethering them to the dark and irrelevant mistakes of the past. Their wings were clipped and weighed down by the past.

Some others considered history to be the dead weight that was preventing the country from rising to its true potential - a kind of baggage that must be shed before we were drowned by its weight. For some others, it was an albatross around their neck - a reminder of all that went wrong and can go wrong in the times to come.
And yet, for some, there was glory in this view of the past. Lessons to be learnt from these labor pains; from the innocence of infancy to the adolescent rebellion and finally to the crisis of growth and maturation in the mid-life civilization.

No one was completely right or wrong.

History is a double edged sword.

India, has a heritage dating back more than 7 millennia and in this long window of time - a lot has happened. From the birth of civilization as we know it to the discovery of science and technology - there have been many great things that have come out of this great land. But, these achievements are also tainted. They bear the burden of the caste system, of oppression, retarded social structures, discrimination against women and religious intolerance.

Waves of migration, invasion and trade brought many different cultures to our doorstep making this country an eclectic melting pot. Its identity has changed and evolved with the times and people could find an identity convenient to them depending on how far back in time they went.
An identity that was once strong, self-assured and open, is today tipping over, crumbling under its own weight. What was once whole, strong and pliable, is being forced to be rigid, definite and precise today. And in the process, it has become a shackle to be broken. An image to be destroyed. A myth to be debunked.

And as I struggled with my own share of this burden of history and heritage, my journeys brought me to a country where history is revered, is sought after.

Simply because it is non-existent. Unlike India, where centuries were the currency of time, here, time is measured in years. The roots of these modern day cities extend only a few decades in time.
And so, the people here search for their roots. They treasure their old letters and photographs, the books and the names, the homes and the churches - whatever little they could find, was their anchor to their past. These few things are their connection to their history, to their past and to their ancestors. Their glorious present searches for an anchor, something to call its own - a rich, glorious past. They go looking for that lost time. They are not dwarfed or burdened by their history or its mistakes. Somehow, a successful present seems to atone for a lot of the past.

And still, there are other countries where the past is a burden to bear. A mistake to learn from. A mistake never to repeat. Not just for its own people, but for humanity itself. And so they run from their past even as they try to accept it.

And so, despite being its constant, unchanging, unwavering entity, history remains elusive and amorphous - subject to interpretation.
Sometimes it is the yoke that leashes you while at others it is the anchor that you seek. Sometimes, it is a burden to lose and at others, it is the foundation that you seek.

Hope...

I have often favored the harsher reality of life over the vague uncertainty of hope. Somehow knowing the truth and being prepared for it seemed better than the optimistic hope that keeps you unhinged from reality.

But today, when hope is actually dashed, and reality has made itself clear - somehow, I prefer that sense of hope - however tempestuous and elusive it may have seemed. It was enough to let me get through to the next day. It was enough to let me sleep and wake up.

It held a possibility, however small. Undaunted by probabilities or statistics, It held a possibility. It was enough to keep me calm in the face of the storm.

Hope is the thing with feathers 
Emily Dickinson 

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

I hope I learn to value that little bird and its song without words. Because sometimes, you are just not ready for that storm. Sometimes, even that glimmer of hope, however remote, however uncertain, is sufficient to keep you together. 

Remember that - will you? The next time you want to curse hope for leaving you vulnerable, uncertain and confused. 

No such thing in the world as the right decision...

Sometimes one stumbles onto pearls of wisdom in the most unlikeliest of places.

This was one such unlikely source I had never heard of, until yesterday of course. This is a song from a band that called itself "Jesus Jones"...    :)

The Right Decision... 

When they say ignorance is bliss
It makes it sound too good to miss
How about that?
And the problem with success is you become what you detest
How about that?

So who to believe and who do you trust
Well, it might as well be you
'Cos it seem that no-one else has got a clue

Get it wrong get it right
You can try as hard as you like
But there's no such thing in the world as the right decision
(Compromise and confusion steal us away)

Now it's okay for you to smoke
Just as long as it's not dope
How about that?
Two wrongs don't make a right
But there's a Gulf where they just might
How about that?

Suspended by trust
Reserved my belief
And did all I could do
In the hope that I might pick up any clues

Get it wrong get it right
You can try as hard as you like
But there's no such thing in the world as the right decision 
Compromise and confusion steal us away

When to serve and protect
Means we may just break your neck
How about that?
For every question why
There's an answer on the sly
That few will look in the eye

Get it wrong get it right
You can try as hard as you like
But there's no such thing in the world as the right decision
(Compromise and confusion steal us away)

Random thoughts....

The past few days have been stranger than usual. I have been teetering at the edge of loss, exhaustion and hopelessness but something has carried me through it all - a little bruised and wounded but still together. 

My days have been filled with random thoughts - mostly while walking or running - trying to get some air in and some anxiety out. 

I walk by the park and see a tiny two year old walking on the park's fence while clutching onto her dad. It reminds me of learning to ride a bike. Of constantly looking back to check if someone was behind me or not. To make sure that someone stayed with me even as I tried to break free - to speed away. With that tingling sense of panic, excitement and the fear of not making it. And yet, before panic grips me as the shadow behind me recedes into the distance - I feel the wind in my hair and I know I am on my way. I have fallen soon after, lost control, and gotten bruised, just when I thought I had found my wings. But for those few moments, I knew I had made it. I had done it once and I could do it again. And again. 

I was a bird ready to fly away from my nest, eager to fly, but I was still missing the nest. I still looked for that shadow. For that someone to be there, no matter what. To just be there and be mine. 

I walk by the rolling hills of the lush-green golf course on my way to the beach. With slippers on my feet and earphones in my ear, I walk. Uncaring and unsure. I see the luxurious green carpet of the golf course, dotted with specks of white spheres. My eyes try and find a pattern to make sense of it. But, there is no pattern - nothing to explain it all. Nothing but randomness. The white specks were the balls at the end of their journey. A journey directed by the sun and the wind, by the power of the stroke, by the strength and choice of the clubs, by the roll of the land, and by a whole lot else. There was no simple way to predict or to explain the chain of events that brought them there. They were at the end of journeys that were almost entirely beyond their control. I just had to walk on. 

I normally walk into an empty room with quiet solitude but walk into a crowd feeling lonely. But today was different. I was happy even on the streets because I acknowledged the crowd of strangers and realized that I owe nothing to them. Not the politeness of a smile or the courtesy of a pleasantry or the pleasure of a conversation. I was alone in a crowd of strangers and for once it was liberating to know that I did not care for them and that my existence did not matter to them. That at some level, I could be just who I am - unaffected by who I should be - because none of them were of any consequence to me, and neither I to them. To know that one's actions and decisions cannot break someone's heart or spirit and cannot hurt someone who is loved is liberating. It is liberating to know how little one means to some people because then there is no responsibility to be shouldered. There are no problems to be solved, no sentences to be structured and no decisions to be made. It is just you in a sea of loneliness. On some days, it is liberating to be surrounded by a sea of strangers.