Before I could begin to see the truth and type this blog, I browsed over few thoughts and recollections that I jotted down in my diary after reading a book by Hari Kunzru- My Revolutions. I read this book sometime in 2010 but a chance conversation today made me go back to my diary.
These are the words of Rumi, which open the book.
'I used to have fiery intensity,
and a flowing sweetness
The waters were illusion
The flames, made of snow..
Was I dreaming then?
Am I awake now?'
The book tries to explore how idealism leads to violence and back to indifference. Truly, one complete revolution it is, to start and then finally end at the same spot where you started from. Is it not how a dictionary would define a revolution as? Does that make the idea of a revolution self defeating ?
So the book successfully or unsuccessfully brought me back to the verse i started with. About what lies, illusions, wars men choose to make life seem worthwhile. How day in and day out we fight out for some idealism, for some belief with fierce vitality, who is to know if that fight is truly worth it? Who is to know that one day when we'd be truly weary, we'd realize that there wasn't ever a reason to pick that fight.
Most often we are just there in the rink, taking and returning the punches, deafened by the noise around, maddened by the rush of the moment- so much so that we can hear our own heart beat, feel the blood gushing through the veins, see the nerves swell up against the taut skin. Its the one moment we feel truly alive. But what if for an instance we could actually observe ourselves unattached and unaffected from a distance, i really fear we might just look crazy possessed to our own eyes. We might as well appear fighting and defending a make believe world, just as in a dream.
I thought of our misplaced idealism in personal and social spheres. The fights that we sometimes pick up with our loved ones just for some lofty beliefs we have. How it makes us rigid not to bat our eyelid or accept things a little differently. How we throw fists in the air, say hurtful words and cry martyr. Its one drunken madness that we fail to see or we see way after the damage is all done
I thought of all the causes that men fight for. I talk of the causes that imparts a drunken righteousness to judge everyone around us. I talk of the fights were men lose their heart and humility and having lost that, fight for a higher pedestal and try to shout louder than anyone else.
The truth is each one of us needs a fight, to keep us going through each living day.However most importantly we need the heart to accept, the heart to believe in the goodness around and then to choose the right battles. The battles that we can fight in wakeful humility and blissful sleep..
However still one can only hope, even so more for the good battles you pick that you don't get disenchanted and walk away even before the victor is announced. I have fought fiercely with all my heart only to realize that I didn't have my heart in it anymore, and so gave into the weariness and futility of the whole exercise. This disenchantment is the biggest fight and I don't know how some people fight it out when some people simply end up confounded.
Perhaps life chooses to play on our minds the same old tricks from its bag to get back at us at times..
These are the words of Rumi, which open the book.
'I used to have fiery intensity,
and a flowing sweetness
The waters were illusion
The flames, made of snow..
Was I dreaming then?
Am I awake now?'
The book tries to explore how idealism leads to violence and back to indifference. Truly, one complete revolution it is, to start and then finally end at the same spot where you started from. Is it not how a dictionary would define a revolution as? Does that make the idea of a revolution self defeating ?
So the book successfully or unsuccessfully brought me back to the verse i started with. About what lies, illusions, wars men choose to make life seem worthwhile. How day in and day out we fight out for some idealism, for some belief with fierce vitality, who is to know if that fight is truly worth it? Who is to know that one day when we'd be truly weary, we'd realize that there wasn't ever a reason to pick that fight.
Most often we are just there in the rink, taking and returning the punches, deafened by the noise around, maddened by the rush of the moment- so much so that we can hear our own heart beat, feel the blood gushing through the veins, see the nerves swell up against the taut skin. Its the one moment we feel truly alive. But what if for an instance we could actually observe ourselves unattached and unaffected from a distance, i really fear we might just look crazy possessed to our own eyes. We might as well appear fighting and defending a make believe world, just as in a dream.
I thought of our misplaced idealism in personal and social spheres. The fights that we sometimes pick up with our loved ones just for some lofty beliefs we have. How it makes us rigid not to bat our eyelid or accept things a little differently. How we throw fists in the air, say hurtful words and cry martyr. Its one drunken madness that we fail to see or we see way after the damage is all done
I thought of all the causes that men fight for. I talk of the causes that imparts a drunken righteousness to judge everyone around us. I talk of the fights were men lose their heart and humility and having lost that, fight for a higher pedestal and try to shout louder than anyone else.
The truth is each one of us needs a fight, to keep us going through each living day.However most importantly we need the heart to accept, the heart to believe in the goodness around and then to choose the right battles. The battles that we can fight in wakeful humility and blissful sleep..
However still one can only hope, even so more for the good battles you pick that you don't get disenchanted and walk away even before the victor is announced. I have fought fiercely with all my heart only to realize that I didn't have my heart in it anymore, and so gave into the weariness and futility of the whole exercise. This disenchantment is the biggest fight and I don't know how some people fight it out when some people simply end up confounded.
Perhaps life chooses to play on our minds the same old tricks from its bag to get back at us at times..
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