THE TRUTH IN ALL DESIRES-PROLOGUE
I’ve been thinking a lot about those lines that supposedly reflect the realism in life. You know, phrases like ‘life’s not a bed of roses’ and others of the same sort. Firstly, I’m against the very idea of picturing life as something stationary. Come on, life cannot be a bed of anything. I’m more into picturing life as something more moving, portable and mobile.
Life’s a ride, a ride where you pass through different places, which apparently relate to the incidents of life. So in my opinion, we could use a phrase which goes something like ‘life’s a ride full of bumps and uniformity’. It’s a typical journey where you have no choice but to experience the monotony at times and the excitement at other times, the rightfulness at times and the injustice at other times, the bliss at times and the misery at others. But this is just my perspective at looking at what life may be. I have no desire whatsoever in forcing others to accept this depiction of life.
What I want to do now is not sit and ponder about what life is because frankly, I believe it is way beyond my philosophical intellect. I can deliberate about it for years and keep moving in circles-after all, life’s a full circle isn’t it? What I’m trying to do now is contemplate on reasons, or rather one particular reason that I find most important in persuading you forward with life. Different people may have different reasons, different catalysts. As my friend so rightly put-‘it’s all in the priorities’. Yes it is. Priority is that sole word or rather, the sole idea that helps you move ahead with life. Every person is required to prioritize his/her life because this inadvertently provides direction to life. Prioritizing is, in a way, reasoning out your options and cutting down on them and selecting a few apt ones and finally setting them as your goals. And then you work towards fulfilling your goals, rather, those limitations you set for yourself, justifying them as priorities.
Let’s look at something slightly above priorities. I’m talking about ambition. Isn’t ambition the sole idea that helps a person truly persuade himself to live on? What priority can a man without ambition possess? That’s something like knowing the path that leads you forward but having absolutely no idea as to where it’ll lead you-A blind journey. That is certainly not what we want, right? So my first break-ambition is much more important than priority because it is that what leads you. In fact it is the only thing that can show you the path. To take it or leave it, is the priority in question.
So, now in my scale I’ve brought ambition above priority. Limitation was the word I’d used to term the entire process of prioritizing your options. Allow me to justify myself. Depending on one’s personal capacity, his/her ambitions will vary in scale. It will certainly vary in magnanimity. When a person gives his ambition a free hand, I’m very sure his life’s going to take an elevated turn, in the positive direction. He’s going to be able to tread new paths. When he tries to sort out his priorities, what he actually is doing is to limit the wideness in his ambitions, the extent of his ambitions. Why does one want to do that? What harm does ambition bring upon you? Why set restrictions to something which does nothing but urge you to grab further, to advance yourself to greater heights? Once you set yourself priorities, what happens is you think you’re focused, you think you’re decided on what to do in life. But what actually happens is you tread a fixed set of paths within your own personal capacity. You may feel you are discovering new horizons, but then that’s just one of the many illusions that life’s going to show you. In short, you’ve caged yourself. And in the end, what happens to a caged animal? He’s hit by frustration, desperation, a sense of loss etc. When you set no priority, when you leave it all to the free wandering hand of ambition; it is then that you are truly going to discover yourself. Then, you will know no such thing as personal capacity. You will be able to reach out to heights which would’ve earlier instilled fear in your heart. And you know what the best part is - you’ll always find greater things to live for.
The moment you accomplish something, or even before it, there would something else that would’ve been vying for your attention, vying for your fulfillment. It is this continuous process of desiring something, accomplishing a few, letting a few go by and failing in a few that helps make life more eventful and thrilling.
So now in my scale I’ve completely eliminated priority. I feel there is no need for it at all as all it does is give one a false sense of focus and sets a load of restrictions to your aspirations.
I’ve spoken so much about ambition, but I’m yet to use the word ‘dream’. What difference is there between a dream and an ambition? In my scale, I fail to find any difference between them at all. If one notices any difference, it is nothing but a phony charade that is set up by his own thoughts. A friend of mine once put it this way – ‘you can be ambitious up to a certain level, and beyond that it is all a dream….’ Allow me to explain his stance. He says there’s nothing wrong in fuelling your ambitions but then there’s a stage beyond which you need to classify them into dreams. My question is simple – Why do you need to make that classification? Isn’t it a restriction that you’re setting for yourself, willing yourself to believe that beyond that particular stage everything else you wish for is just a dream which may or may not be fulfilled? You yourself are labeling it with the impossible tag. Come on; can there be anything more pessimistic than this? I honestly brand this mode of thought as negative and degrading to your own spirit of perseverance. It reflects nothing but an unsure self, a self that believes you don’t have the stuff to even call it your ambition. Who says all your ambitions have to be fulfilled? There is no hard and fast rule of that sort.
People who differ from this concept of thought have the label of practicality to argue with, and I certainly believe that they are justified in thinking so. After all, who am I to argue if they themselves believe they can’t do something?
Trust me when I say practicality is only a façade behind which people try to hide. Do not get the idea that I’m being insensible when I say this. But all that I’m asking is why you have to differentiate something off as dream and ambition, with the criterion being surety in accomplishment. What is wrong in having an ambition that you may not be able to accomplish? What is wrong in aspiring for something that may seem to be practically difficult? Are all dreams left unaccomplished?
All you ever wish for, all you aspire to be, to do – it can all be termed as your ambition. There need not be any classification between them as dreams, aspirations, desires and goals and so on. It’s all one and the same. For example, I can always desire to be the president of my country. Sensibly thinking I should be able to realize that it has a very high chance of impracticality. But that does not mean I need to totally term it as a simple dream and nothing else. I can always give it a shot and atleast then resign to the fact that I did try for it. It would give a whole lot more of contentment then.
If you do feel that there is something that you desire and it’s got a practicality issue, why strike it off from your list of ambitions? Why not leave it there and nurture it? Why not just keep giving it shots so that it satisfies your thirst for that desire? But the sole requirement for this is the absence of a pessimistic approach.
So now in my scale, I’ve removed all classifications and have termed everything-goals, desires, aspirations, dreams- into one thing-AMBITION. Everything and anything that you desire can be brought under this. Some of it you may accomplish, some of it you may not. But then you can always have the pleasure of having it in your mind, having it there to fuel your fight in life, to push you further, to know no limits, to know that there’s nothing that can stop you but you yourself….
And thus ambition becomes the truth in all desires….
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
THE FINAL ACT
And when it all goes up in that one 'puff', is when you realize that there is no hope left-the fire has been burnt. Since so has been the case of every other fire, this one too brings down everything else with it. In that one following moment of life, a moment where it is supposed that you see your entire life in front of you, one should realize that the truth is you can neither get yourself to scrutinize the past nor lament about the future. Both, for totally different reasons of course.
I am, sadly discussing the point of suicide dear readers. If you'd not already noticed the saying on the right hand side of this blog, please read it now-'from the very moment you lose the passion to live, life just happens to be an illusion...’
But this does in no way mean that suicide point has been reached. It just means that there appears, to you or rather to your present 'state of mind', that there is no alternative left. Splendidly put, there is no chance of 'hope'.
HOPE! Hope it is. Isn’t it with this sealant that we lead our lives and its meager goals? Or am I wrong in my judgment? Maybe, maybe not. Hope is what drives our very ambitions, or at least as far as what I can see. Anything said or done, anything aspired for, anything affected-it can all be associated with hope, majorly. Then when we reach a point where we claim to have lost hope, what is it that we've truly lost? Is it our aspirations or our actions or our ability to reason or bluntly put-our ability to fight it out? Isn’t it this juncture of the 'all-lost' that we can truly recognize as the suicide point? Yes, here is my take on it. The much unawaited, yet inevitable point (seemingly only to those who are done with it) is reached when coupled with the lack of hope, they stagger to a point where they are unable to get themselves to put up a fight. A fight here represents nothing other than the lack of will power that, as sad as I am to accept, are possessed by very few in this modern day society where suicide has become a fashionable trend (or so I fear).
If suicide is to be considered from their point of view (the suiciders), I'd say it is their final act of meek 'giving-in' to the oppressive forces that surround them overpoweringly. Careful as I should be, please note that I am not saying the suiciders do so without a valid reason, at least thinking from their own perspective. Siding by them (as I should do so to remain diplomatic), I should say most of the suiciders face a problem who's enormity we cannot even brave ourselves to think of. If such is the case, having understood that I, and the rest who condemn these acts are not able to relate or get ourselves to understand their problem, then who are we to comment on their act? When the law itself folds their hands at the back and stand-at-ease, we might as well be in attention and make sure we don’t reach such a despondent situation ourselves.
But, we turning our backs onto such a 'grave act of shame', and I chose my words carefully, would be inheriting a trend of acceptance that has seared itself through our social upbringing. Shouldn’t we, as creations of the same one Master, be united in opinion that none other than he, has the right to take back the gift he had awarded us with. I've always staunchly believed that we, our bodies, are just the keepers of the real gift (life/soul) presented to us. In that case, the meek act of suicide is dereliction of duty.
Having said all this I'm fully aware that in the course of a lifetime, of which I've seen so less (especially compared to the suiciders) and been in far less perilous situations, there shall certainly arise circumstances where one would be expected to make unreasonable decisions such as suicide. Cannot blame him/her totally for thinking in a very conservatively selfish manner and not thinking about the consequences their actions shall bear on their surroundings, man or matter. As I said earlier, in that wretched situation, where something else other than your own conscience controls the mind, you shall not be able to think of past or future, let alone debate your actions that are to follow.
But it is maybe my conservativeness or ever overboard optimism that pushes me into thinking out loud, that whatever may the situation be, say a no to suicide. Give up on your efforts of revival, give up your aspirations, give up even your hope but never give up your life-it’s not for the taking.
A sms received a long time ago seems to trickle through my mind now-'when God takes you to the edge of a cliff, its either coz your gonna learn how to fly or coz he's gonna catch u when u fall.' But God will never be there to catch you if you decide to run over the cliff yourself!
I am, sadly discussing the point of suicide dear readers. If you'd not already noticed the saying on the right hand side of this blog, please read it now-'from the very moment you lose the passion to live, life just happens to be an illusion...’
But this does in no way mean that suicide point has been reached. It just means that there appears, to you or rather to your present 'state of mind', that there is no alternative left. Splendidly put, there is no chance of 'hope'.
HOPE! Hope it is. Isn’t it with this sealant that we lead our lives and its meager goals? Or am I wrong in my judgment? Maybe, maybe not. Hope is what drives our very ambitions, or at least as far as what I can see. Anything said or done, anything aspired for, anything affected-it can all be associated with hope, majorly. Then when we reach a point where we claim to have lost hope, what is it that we've truly lost? Is it our aspirations or our actions or our ability to reason or bluntly put-our ability to fight it out? Isn’t it this juncture of the 'all-lost' that we can truly recognize as the suicide point? Yes, here is my take on it. The much unawaited, yet inevitable point (seemingly only to those who are done with it) is reached when coupled with the lack of hope, they stagger to a point where they are unable to get themselves to put up a fight. A fight here represents nothing other than the lack of will power that, as sad as I am to accept, are possessed by very few in this modern day society where suicide has become a fashionable trend (or so I fear).
If suicide is to be considered from their point of view (the suiciders), I'd say it is their final act of meek 'giving-in' to the oppressive forces that surround them overpoweringly. Careful as I should be, please note that I am not saying the suiciders do so without a valid reason, at least thinking from their own perspective. Siding by them (as I should do so to remain diplomatic), I should say most of the suiciders face a problem who's enormity we cannot even brave ourselves to think of. If such is the case, having understood that I, and the rest who condemn these acts are not able to relate or get ourselves to understand their problem, then who are we to comment on their act? When the law itself folds their hands at the back and stand-at-ease, we might as well be in attention and make sure we don’t reach such a despondent situation ourselves.
But, we turning our backs onto such a 'grave act of shame', and I chose my words carefully, would be inheriting a trend of acceptance that has seared itself through our social upbringing. Shouldn’t we, as creations of the same one Master, be united in opinion that none other than he, has the right to take back the gift he had awarded us with. I've always staunchly believed that we, our bodies, are just the keepers of the real gift (life/soul) presented to us. In that case, the meek act of suicide is dereliction of duty.
Having said all this I'm fully aware that in the course of a lifetime, of which I've seen so less (especially compared to the suiciders) and been in far less perilous situations, there shall certainly arise circumstances where one would be expected to make unreasonable decisions such as suicide. Cannot blame him/her totally for thinking in a very conservatively selfish manner and not thinking about the consequences their actions shall bear on their surroundings, man or matter. As I said earlier, in that wretched situation, where something else other than your own conscience controls the mind, you shall not be able to think of past or future, let alone debate your actions that are to follow.
But it is maybe my conservativeness or ever overboard optimism that pushes me into thinking out loud, that whatever may the situation be, say a no to suicide. Give up on your efforts of revival, give up your aspirations, give up even your hope but never give up your life-it’s not for the taking.
A sms received a long time ago seems to trickle through my mind now-'when God takes you to the edge of a cliff, its either coz your gonna learn how to fly or coz he's gonna catch u when u fall.' But God will never be there to catch you if you decide to run over the cliff yourself!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
...SO FAR
I know this is a little too long for a post, but somehow felt it was important to start off with this.
1987, December
…WHACK…as the tiny ass cheek hurt, a baby boy weighing all but 3.5 kgs gulped his first lungful of air and sprang into life. And then he started crying. As the nurses cleansed him of the blood, the doc conveyed the good news to the man responsible for the baby, standing outside with the characteristic anxiety. Hours later, as the man and woman responsible were gleaming at the result of their hardwork with pride; they hoped that everything would be as smooth as it’d been on that important day, and hope they still do…
1992, September
...the weekend cleaning and tidying was a rigorous effort even without a restless kid getting into the way. Finally when the dad’s nerves couldn’t stand it anymore, an order issued out with a growl followed the kid up to sit on top of ‘somewhere and be quiet’. And since the somewhere wasn’t specified, he sat on the weird looking grey box at the end of which dad was pulling some sucking thing (read vacuum cleaner). Unfortunately for him, the cleaner was switched on right at the moment he placed his tender lil’ ass on it (somehow he doubted the dad’s lingering smile later on). Imagine the shock a 4 year old gets when one of his most prized body parts is subject to mechanical howls. The kid’s always been wary since…
1994, June
…the kid wakes up one night at 3 and sees a light in the TV room. He rubs his eyes and curiosity picks him up from the bed and carries him up till the ajar door where he sees glued to the TV, his dad, watching the Football World Cup match. He walks up to dad and crawls onto his lap and makes himself comfy in it. He’s waiting eagerly for the customary pat and fondling but none came by. All he gets is a violent jolt when dad jumps up with joy when some white ball zooms into the net on-screen. The kid silently sits back and wonders why his dad is trying to match the crazy people on screen by jumping up and down-after all it’s the same man who had reprimanded him for making too much noise at 7 in the evening…]
1995, December
…finally dad listens to the kid who’s been saying there’s something wrong with mom coz her stomach’s been growing and growing and she’s been getting weaker. Dad wakes him up in the wee hours of the morning and says “mom needs to be taken to the hospital”. The kid silently thanks god for bringing sense into his dad’s head. He’s dropped off at a family friend’s along with assurances of frequent phone calls. As soon as he sees his friends he forgets all the worries and realizes it’s his b’day. And when he was in the midst of his celebrations, dad comes up all smiling and takes him off to the hospital. When queried as to why, dad replies he’s got a gift for him. The cheered up kid waits eagerly and a pleasant sense of surprise build on inside him as he went down the corridors of the hospital. And when those 8 year old eyes of his rested on his gift, an insuppressible sense of joy passed through him. It remained the most beautiful sight those eyes had the fortune of capturing for a long time. A beautiful doll which had life in it. Dad said it came from mom’s stomach. The kid checked and saw his mom’s stomach had grown back to how it should’ve been. And still he didn’t believe dad. He thanked god again a second time that day, for having remembered his birthday and for the gift…
1996, March
…and with swollen eyes (from crying) the kid stomped up the steps of the bus to his new school (and his home for another 8 years). And with the same fit of anger and sadness he picked a fight with a senior (who boarded from a later stop) who claimed his right to the seat the kid was seated on. The senior showed his age and understanding when he didn’t waste too many words with the kid-one tight slap across the left cheek did the trick and the kid was seen seated right next to the conductor for the rest of the year. The kid wondered whether there’d be any lasting marks from the slap. His fears were confirmed almost 12 years later when he noticed a marked difference in hair growth on his left side of the face. The senior had left his mark…
2001, September
...and as the grown up kid runs about the different venues to attend the numerous events for the Annual Creative Festival at his school, he passes by the main auditorium where he chances upon his classmate and very good friend singing on stage. Though he was very late for his event he stayed on to watch the entire song. He reckons he’s the one who clapped the most and loudest but fully realizes his hands never moved. He never bothered to check the results of the solo singing competition coz in his heart, she’d won the 1st prize. Life’s never been the same since…
2004, March
…and the house which was in a state of emergency (10th grade board exams), was home now to a ‘fire-in-the-ass’ chipmunk (the kid), a nervous-frowning-silent man (the dad), a touchy-arduous-God-devotee (the mom) and a where’s-my-doll-cute girl (the sis). Panic stricken nights, long session at the loo (stress relieving has its different forms), book strewn bed, long forgotten computer were the only reality shows that were viewed on this channel for a month. And when it had all come to an end (with a disastrous language they’d called French but actually meant ‘trench’) all was forgotten and out came the footballs, basketballs and a few other balls. But somewhere the kid didn’t want it to end so fast, for saying goodbye was not something he was accustomed to. But it was something he had no choice but to do for he was to be relocated to an alien land they called motherland. As he bid adieu to the people and surroundings that truly defined him, he searched for one face, not to say goodbye, but…
2006, March
…having accepted the last two years didn’t work too well (that’s an understatement), and fully realizing the importance of having to fill lots of papers with dots to enter into colleges where they engineer ones future, the kid heaved a sigh of relief when he walked up the gates of ‘home’; for now he had a chance of setting things right. It was like rebirth, for straight away the kid was thrown into the fast moving life laden with opportunities, happiness and friends. What the world held for him, he did not know; where life’s eternities would lead him he did not care; all that mattered was life was changing lanes…
2008, May
…success, happiness, friendship, hardship and failure had been tasted by now and something in the kid was yearning for more. Something, somewhere still cringed for that extra bit and he didn’t mind going the extra mile to do it. He knows what he needs to do but knows not where to start; he stands up and look forward. Never having been short on ambition, he never needed to look far to aspire or be motivated. Life’s been nice to him and in return he had nothing but love and respect for it-after all that is what we all live for right, love…
1987, December
…WHACK…as the tiny ass cheek hurt, a baby boy weighing all but 3.5 kgs gulped his first lungful of air and sprang into life. And then he started crying. As the nurses cleansed him of the blood, the doc conveyed the good news to the man responsible for the baby, standing outside with the characteristic anxiety. Hours later, as the man and woman responsible were gleaming at the result of their hardwork with pride; they hoped that everything would be as smooth as it’d been on that important day, and hope they still do…
1992, September
...the weekend cleaning and tidying was a rigorous effort even without a restless kid getting into the way. Finally when the dad’s nerves couldn’t stand it anymore, an order issued out with a growl followed the kid up to sit on top of ‘somewhere and be quiet’. And since the somewhere wasn’t specified, he sat on the weird looking grey box at the end of which dad was pulling some sucking thing (read vacuum cleaner). Unfortunately for him, the cleaner was switched on right at the moment he placed his tender lil’ ass on it (somehow he doubted the dad’s lingering smile later on). Imagine the shock a 4 year old gets when one of his most prized body parts is subject to mechanical howls. The kid’s always been wary since…
1994, June
…the kid wakes up one night at 3 and sees a light in the TV room. He rubs his eyes and curiosity picks him up from the bed and carries him up till the ajar door where he sees glued to the TV, his dad, watching the Football World Cup match. He walks up to dad and crawls onto his lap and makes himself comfy in it. He’s waiting eagerly for the customary pat and fondling but none came by. All he gets is a violent jolt when dad jumps up with joy when some white ball zooms into the net on-screen. The kid silently sits back and wonders why his dad is trying to match the crazy people on screen by jumping up and down-after all it’s the same man who had reprimanded him for making too much noise at 7 in the evening…]
1995, December
…finally dad listens to the kid who’s been saying there’s something wrong with mom coz her stomach’s been growing and growing and she’s been getting weaker. Dad wakes him up in the wee hours of the morning and says “mom needs to be taken to the hospital”. The kid silently thanks god for bringing sense into his dad’s head. He’s dropped off at a family friend’s along with assurances of frequent phone calls. As soon as he sees his friends he forgets all the worries and realizes it’s his b’day. And when he was in the midst of his celebrations, dad comes up all smiling and takes him off to the hospital. When queried as to why, dad replies he’s got a gift for him. The cheered up kid waits eagerly and a pleasant sense of surprise build on inside him as he went down the corridors of the hospital. And when those 8 year old eyes of his rested on his gift, an insuppressible sense of joy passed through him. It remained the most beautiful sight those eyes had the fortune of capturing for a long time. A beautiful doll which had life in it. Dad said it came from mom’s stomach. The kid checked and saw his mom’s stomach had grown back to how it should’ve been. And still he didn’t believe dad. He thanked god again a second time that day, for having remembered his birthday and for the gift…
1996, March
…and with swollen eyes (from crying) the kid stomped up the steps of the bus to his new school (and his home for another 8 years). And with the same fit of anger and sadness he picked a fight with a senior (who boarded from a later stop) who claimed his right to the seat the kid was seated on. The senior showed his age and understanding when he didn’t waste too many words with the kid-one tight slap across the left cheek did the trick and the kid was seen seated right next to the conductor for the rest of the year. The kid wondered whether there’d be any lasting marks from the slap. His fears were confirmed almost 12 years later when he noticed a marked difference in hair growth on his left side of the face. The senior had left his mark…
2001, September
...and as the grown up kid runs about the different venues to attend the numerous events for the Annual Creative Festival at his school, he passes by the main auditorium where he chances upon his classmate and very good friend singing on stage. Though he was very late for his event he stayed on to watch the entire song. He reckons he’s the one who clapped the most and loudest but fully realizes his hands never moved. He never bothered to check the results of the solo singing competition coz in his heart, she’d won the 1st prize. Life’s never been the same since…
2004, March
…and the house which was in a state of emergency (10th grade board exams), was home now to a ‘fire-in-the-ass’ chipmunk (the kid), a nervous-frowning-silent man (the dad), a touchy-arduous-God-devotee (the mom) and a where’s-my-doll-cute girl (the sis). Panic stricken nights, long session at the loo (stress relieving has its different forms), book strewn bed, long forgotten computer were the only reality shows that were viewed on this channel for a month. And when it had all come to an end (with a disastrous language they’d called French but actually meant ‘trench’) all was forgotten and out came the footballs, basketballs and a few other balls. But somewhere the kid didn’t want it to end so fast, for saying goodbye was not something he was accustomed to. But it was something he had no choice but to do for he was to be relocated to an alien land they called motherland. As he bid adieu to the people and surroundings that truly defined him, he searched for one face, not to say goodbye, but…
2006, March
…having accepted the last two years didn’t work too well (that’s an understatement), and fully realizing the importance of having to fill lots of papers with dots to enter into colleges where they engineer ones future, the kid heaved a sigh of relief when he walked up the gates of ‘home’; for now he had a chance of setting things right. It was like rebirth, for straight away the kid was thrown into the fast moving life laden with opportunities, happiness and friends. What the world held for him, he did not know; where life’s eternities would lead him he did not care; all that mattered was life was changing lanes…
2008, May
…success, happiness, friendship, hardship and failure had been tasted by now and something in the kid was yearning for more. Something, somewhere still cringed for that extra bit and he didn’t mind going the extra mile to do it. He knows what he needs to do but knows not where to start; he stands up and look forward. Never having been short on ambition, he never needed to look far to aspire or be motivated. Life’s been nice to him and in return he had nothing but love and respect for it-after all that is what we all live for right, love…
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