Death – for everyone, right?

It seemed to be a very dark topic to take up when I initially thought of it last week. But it seemed like a very prevalent theme throughout the week. If the Mayans were right and the world actually ends in about fourteen days, then it’s pretty much a hot-topic of discussion.

Oh there is so much I want to say but I am not sure where to start (rubs hands gleefully). Death is something everyone and every religion on the face of earth focuses on, whether it is the fear of death, after-death promises or the circle of life and death. It is very interesting to see the effects of such threats and promises. I always imagine one of those Walt Disney cartoon-like groups of mice. They have this one tyrant that rules over thousands of mice, and once the tyrant is done with his (it is usually a male) speech about the consequences of not obeying his orders, he claps his hands and the thousand poor mice scurry about to meet the requirements more out of fear than anything else.

I do not wish to disrespect anyone by comparing them to rats (if it is any help, I’m one too), but I feel that the tyrant would be the contemporary religious leaders who force their ideology on the masses through force. The major religions – Christianity and Islam promise us a wonderful heaven (or jannat) of riches and comforts if we follow their principles. Other religions promise us a better re-incarnation, a better life, or a break from the cycle of birth-and-death – nirvana, the state of ultimate bliss. Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with believing in any particular religion. It is what we do with that belief that I wish to talk about.

Our approach to these promises is rather interesting. Most of the time, we scurry about in our lives, going about our lives to achieve something. Till the age of 18, we’re in school. Then we begin to worry about our future (some begin to worry a little earlier than that), go to university and secure a job to get some experience and then go on with our search for our dream job. Somewhere along the way, or right after getting a job, we get married, have kids, work hard to settle them, and then get them married, fight with their partners in life and so on. If anywhere along the way, one were to ask them what they have earned in their life that wasn’t material, they would look at you funny and say, “We’re still young. Why should we worry about that? Or “It’s better to earn money now when we can so we have a comfortable retirement and then we can worry about what immaterial earnings we need to have”.  These answers, these very prevalent ideologies never fail to amaze me.

Ever since I was a kid, I could see myself between the age of 25 and 30, teaching students in a school or university (depending on my age as a kid). I never saw myself beyond that age. Many people have already made their retirement plans, their marriage plans and plans for their kids’ marriages by the time they are 20. And then this is what they work towards in their life. My conversation with my classmates yesterday made me stop and realize that even now, at 22, I do not see myself beyond 30. I have nothing that I would be striving towards after that. In a way, I plan to achieve everything I wish to by 30. Maybe that is why I take up a thousand things at a time. Almost as though time is too precious to waste not doing anything.

Does that mean I have some sort of Mayan premonition that I don’t have that many more years to live? Or is it my short-sightedness that has affected my mind? Either way, it makes me realize the futility (if I may call it that) of a lot of things that others my age indulge in. In many ways, it works as an impetus to do something worthwhile with my time. I find myself identifying very strongly with this video (a big step-up from a rat) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Wf8yEb1cwY. We may not see the clock ticking on our heads but there most certainly is one that is ticking.

How do we know if we have thirty years more to live or three or maybe not even that? Is that a morose outlook to have? But why is it that talking of death is treated with such disdain and mistrust? Why does talking about death have to be gloomy? Why is it that we do our best to forget that inevitable end of life? It IS the truth. Wouldn't it be better if we accepted it and lived our lives like we were going to die tomorrow? It is easy to say, I know. Well, if you want, live your life as though you only have one year to live. That’s not as bad, is it? And the fact of the matter is that most of the things we strive to achieve in life - wealth, fame and friends, are not going to be able to help us when the time comes.

Is it really that better to have your dead body taken in a limousine than on a flat bed of wood? How does it matter when you wouldn’t have your senses to feel the comfort or the lack of it? All I know is that I don’t want my last conscious thought to be one of regret and that if the world were to indeed end on the 23^rd, I would die without any.

Have-alls... Have-nots...

And Us...


This Friday, I was eavesdropping on a rather interesting conversation between my boss and a colleague. It was about vacations that North-Americans book in developing countries. One of the biggest reasons, obviously, is the cost. It is much cheaper to book a two-week vacation in India than in Europe. However, that wasn't the interesting part of the conversation. The conversation steered towards the view of naked poverty that comes along with the travel-package to such countries. Even before you land in the country, you get a clear view of great expanses of slum spreading out in all directions from the airport – “Welcome to India.” Stepping out of the airport, you see people living in absolute poverty, and one isn't quite sure how to react to it.

Now this is where the conversation actually became interesting. My colleague said, “I never understand when people look at the poor people and feel sorry for them. I mean, you’re going back to your own country and your own comfortable life soon. What’s the point of feeling sorry for them?” I was trying to let the words sink in and the conversation trailed off towards other non-controversial topics.

I couldn't help but reflect on what I’d heard. On one hand I was listening to two have-it-alls who felt so entitled to their wealth and affluence that they cannot even bear the thought of sparing their sympathy for the poor. On the other hand, I recall the slum-dwellers in India I have had the chance to see who have been denied everything and every basic right from their very childhood, clearly the have-nots. And then there was me, the in-between, looking at the growing gap between the two and standing on thin air unable to reconcile it. Somewhere you feel sympathy for the poor, and somewhere an anger perhaps, at the rich who treat them like dirt. But is that our responsibility to reconcile the two? The rich and the poor, the Bourgeois and the Proletariat - the French Revolution, the rise of communism in Russia and China. It is the middle-class that bears the brunt. The roles get reversed 180 degree leaving the middle-class at the center, as earlier.

What was upsetting about their conversation even more than their clear disdain for the poor was their assumption about the existence of the have-nots in the developing nations. The problems faced by these nations with their limited resources, increasing populations and lack of structure have been commented on by very many people far more educated than me, and are way too many to be included here.

It got me thinking about how well the poverty is masked here in the so-called “developed” nations. The poor live in their areas marked away from the rich and there isn't anywhere you can see a rich and a poor man living on the same street. I suppose that makes it much more difficult to see their existence and compare it to that of the have-it-all. It gives us the false sense of security, the false allure that everything that glitters is indeed gold in Toronto. And I suppose this false allusion lay behind their (i.m.o.) insensitive remarks.

It makes one think that there is lot more than meets the eye. Of course there is. Every big city in North America, indeed in the world, has the polar opposites of have-alls and have-nots. Why should Toronto be any different? Only, the poverty is so well hid behind the glamour of the rich. There are equally poor people here who are suffering for lack of resources, lack of proper support from the government or the agencies. The stubbornness of the govt to ignore the extent of the problem may lead to lack to proper attention to the matter. Then, are we really better than the developing nations where at least it is all out in the open?

The image of the developed nations is very Utopian, the big brother of the world who takes all the developing nations under its wing. Why don’t they realise that just maybe, the developing nations do not wish to be in smelly squished armpits under the wing of somebody with lofty claims.

The Pre-New Year Resolution

After erasing the first few words for the 7th time, I am still not sure how I want to react to my last blog post. A very strong promise to write and keep up-to-date with my blogging interest was met with 8 months of … silence? That was not a very good promise now, was it?

I would be exaggerating (though not really lying) if I said the last few months have been extremely taxing to the point that blogging was not the charts till recently. I really have no good excuse for being absent for long. It was somewhat intentional since I’d rather not write than write gloomy and dark posts.

The Scouts' Promise

So, here is my resolution. I will work towards updating my blog weekly.

Every week, there will be an update on this blog from me, and to keep things going, it will be about the topic of the week. Every week we have observations. Every Monday gives us a fresh start to gain a fresh perspective. And every week that perspective takes an interesting turn based on the fresh experiences and approaching events. This interesting perspective would then become the topic for the week (hopefully) prompting thoughts, ideas and discussions.

Wish me luck, my friends!!!

-

M

The vortex of emotions...

I visited my own blog after a long time.

It stands as a reminder of a passion that was once mine - the passion to write, to express all that one thinks and feels. So much goes through my head now… a thousand thoughts a second... And yet, there is no urge to write it all down. Words have deserted me as I once deserted them. A tit for tat, you say? The biggest mistake of my life I say.

Remember a time when words were the doorway to a wonderful land full of possibilities - a world where nothing was impossible, everything was true, you could be whoever you want to? Remember the time when words expressed you thoughts better than you yourself could. When you skipped two meals in a row because Dumbledore was dead and no one knew if Harry could stop Voldemort? That time now seems so far away. Almost as though it was all a dream - a wondrous, beautiful dream - but a dream nevertheless.

Now, the world of words is closed to me. I have grown too big for the door to their land. There they are. They beckon me. As much as I want to, I cannot enter their land again.

Or so I think.

Sad and disappointed, I sit outside. Deep in thought, looking for a way to get in there, when all of a sudden I heard a sound, a sound that reminded me of my childhood. I rushed around to find the source.

Going a little ahead, I saw another door. This door led to another land I visited as a child. Another land that held endless peace and quiet for me. A land that promised me joy and happiness every time I stepped through its doors.

I stand outside, remembering the time. The notes that flowed around me. The words that call to me. The sound of music, the beat of the drum, the notes on the keys, the beautiful voices singing. The merriment, the carefree happiness in the voices of those singing. The upbeat feel of the most beautiful language that humans share - music.

I try to enter the door. I find that I have grown too big for it. The door won't fit me. The gates that seemed to call to me, become hostile. No longer am I welcome in the land of music. They shun me now, as I have shunned them.

Too busy in my own life, I discarded all the simple pleasures that were once my best friends. Too busy growing up; I thought they were things of the past, to be buried in the past.

Now I know. Some things are never to let go off. The love your childhood best friends offer is eternal and pure. I hope to return to them soon. The land of words and the land of music. I am positive that they will forgive me despite how I treated them.

Growing up should make me mature enough to nurture what is so rarely got. Growing up should make me realize that very few are lucky enough to find love in immaterial things. Growing up should make me realize that life is more than just earning money and spending it. Growing up should make me realize that no matter how many things I have, things never give you happiness. Growing up should make me realize that the human potential is boundless, and that we have endless possibilities. Growing up should make me realize that I cannot achieve me true potential if I do not accept the real me.

It is the old love returning, and this time there will be no stopping.