Saturday, March 19, 2016

Why Swearing helps?

I had picked up the multimeter after a long time at my aunt's place in Houston, and as it had been long, I had forgotten how to use it. Memory fails even for the young at times when they are out of practice. But one word shocked both, my uncle and aunt, "Fuck! Why did I forget that flip switch!?". Of course, it was not something worth saying before my five-year-old cousin, but who can stop the rush of expression and the feeling to complete the work that I had taken at hand. 

Being a graduate student who had come this far after a long struggle had certainly made me amicable to all people and troubles I had in life, but the resentment of being left behind in the race of life pumped a river of adrenaline through me. I could not sleep, I could not eat, also could not study. I was just not content with whether I will land the job at the lab I had been waiting for since December. All the pain and pressure swelled up so much that even a small failure at doing things made me irritable. But when my aunt shouted out, "This is what you have grown up to now!" pulled me out of that false facade my mind, my ego had pulled up before my conscience. 

Such an experience certainly leaves people to shock when they are not used to swearing a lot. On the contrary, that is the only way to vent out the frustration and the pain that they are going through. Quite often these are the people who are wrongly accused of bad public behavior and even I share similar experiences. However, it becomes an ordeal for such people to contemplate at times if reacting in such a manner is valid or not. Anger, hate, and contempt are bound to grow, there is just no way out of the misery until things get better. For me, things will be better when I get a job and a place to my own, rented or not. 

However, the poison keeps building in the mind of tired and weary. The body could do any of the two: either let the poison take control or let the poison out. Some punch walls, some shoot guns, some swear, some cry. Everyone has their own way to let the negativity into the void of the universe. I tried to swim and tire myself so much that I would not think of anything at the end of the day. I would just eat and sleep. But, I was wrong. Sometimes, you just need to let it go. Just like the oblivion described in myths, man must succumb to the poison of frustration and let the vents off. Let there be destruction. Let friends and family get angry, let loved ones avoid and ignore you or condemn you. Let your colleagues condemn you. Let the consequences be upon one. There are times there is just no escape from the consequences of anger.

To detoxify the dying self-esteem, sometimes one has to use swearing and cussing. No human being is perfect, not even sages. Sages vent their anger using curses, normal people like us do so by swearing, God by oblivion. Anger grows in the shadow of ego, and this materialistic world, in no way can let ego of ambitious humans down. Ego shall grow to the extremes. The time of meditating and contemplation goes to vain and this ego shall force the ambitious human to exert all force to keep the ego high. If successful, and if the human is smart enough, it shall be content with the positive outcome. The ego shall subside but rise again. Although, if let out, it shall relieve it of all pain and angst and the new transformation will add to the spiritual growth of the person. Thus, anger let out may have negative consequences in near future, but positive in the time to come after that. 

The central idea thus focuses on letting off the poison human collects within itself. Meditation may be the path for the wise to follow, however at times, for ordinary people, the vent of anger and the positive transformation that comes by post-contemplation will lead to the better development of the person. I hope the same affects me in a positive manner too. However, it is still a long way to go. 

Monday, March 14, 2016

A Eulogy to the Gone

                                                   na jayate mriyate va kadacin
nayam bhutva bhavita va na bhuyah
ajo nityah sasvato 'yam purano
na hanyate hanyamane sarire

For the soul there is never birth nor death. Nor, having once been, does he ever cease to be. He is unborn, eternal, ever-existing, undying and primeval. He is not slain when the body is slain.

As I type these words through the middle of the night, I see a dog ail and an old lady in pain who has cared lovingly for her for the last 16 years. I see a husband joke about his wife but in distress that she is still not with him yet. Another woman who is upset with her loving husband just because he could not get her a proper gift this birthday. I see old man troubled by pulmonary disorder, change sides to adjust his breathing pipe. I see a troubled guy in his early twenties who is typing through the midnight rather than focusing on his homework, just because he cannot handle his social issues well.

We are all surrounded by pain and there cannot be a way to escape it. Everyone has to live with it, but the best part about being with loved ones is this: They will eventually understand you and you should not take trivial matters to the grave, you can talk and fight with them. We should be aware that we are a divine embodiment for a greater cause, but we still have to fulfill our worldly duties to make through to that purpose. I have written this before and I shall state this again: I am a troubled person seeking my purpose of life in my early twenties. I do not truly understand the purpose of my life, but I shall keep writing to seek those answers. And in the midst of the mess that the world has to offer, let me take some more keystrokes to pay my homage secretly to the people I have loved.

I loved my grandmother irrespective of how she treated my mother or an others that find that unjustifiable till date. She may have been biased, she may not have been a good mother, she may have been nagging, but she fulfilled her duties professionally and as a family member to the best she could. Later, she ailed for long, was in pain and eventually passed away.

I loved my maternal grandparents, all four (my mother's father, mother, uncle and aunt) who have set an example of how a person climbs the ladder of success through life just by using muscle grease, not even a clever mind. They lived, they multiplied, they discharged their duties to the society in a humanitarian and holistic manner for which people respect them. Many objectives of my life are a benchmark above what they have set, and I strive till date to make them proud. They passed away in split second, and the reasons being just too trivial for a person to die. I feel their purpose was served and they had to go. There were many who expected some or the other as an inheritance (e.g. my mother wanted a picture of Lord Vishnu which hung in their house for decades). I think my only inheritance was pursuing my life with perseverance, persistence for first-class work and keeping my conduct apt for the people around me - friends, family or else. 

I loved my great grandmother who was a brave woman. She was not very learned, but she put in the muscle grease and prayer that pushed my grandfather to study harder, leave the bounds of the community and join the Air Force. No person can be perfect in every sense expected: it is a matter of perception to be perfect. For my grandfather, serving the nation, excelling in electrical engineering and attaining spiritual wisdom have been the way to become perfect. Although, he did pick up smoking and tobacco, but he still stands proud today that his addiction did not deter him from his duty. To add to this, he holds his mother in due respect. She ailed and passed away as well.

I have utmost respect in my heart for my neighbor Late Mr. Patel, who was a farmer by birth, but put in effort at a technical school and part time jobs in Canada and USA to achieve financial stability and success. He has left behind a lovely wife and three children and they have been close to our family. I have never been a very open person, but during my stay in India before MS, it was him who guided me to learn something new. He spent his evenings with me trying to teach me gardening, and I was successful enough to fill a 15 meter square plot with almost any plant one could use at home - vegetables, fruits, flowers, herbs. The essence behind this experience is far more deep. This activity taught me a lesson of life - I was awaiting to rush to do my Masters, earn money and what not. The young mind is easily boggled by all this, but does not take into account what truly gets you all that. Patience and effort. That garden took 3 months' evenings to just shoot out some leaves - the real outcome was even longer. I will value this to the end of my life. His death was sudden: he spit blood one day and went to the hospital. The doctors found he had blood cancer, and he could never return home alive.

I quote again that as a young individual I do not have the right to misguide other young people by writing something that is incorrect. But, what I write is true to my knowledge and belief and I pay my homage to the above mentioned people with all due respect. Om Shantihi Shantihi Shantihi....