Pain

We all talk of it and have experienced it in some way or the other. The four letter P word figures very easily in our vocabulary till realisation strikes some times of pain greater than your own. I saw it recently on face of a friend I had to lie to after years of companionship. It was not his pain or mine. It just was one flame that engulfed our cores, stirred us to great depths, disconnected us from the whole world. Such is its power. Such is its effect. Be it an infant separated from mother or an old man who has his family by his death bed, they are connected with and by pain. No, this write up isn’t an account of ordeals I suffered in life or a self pity mission that I plan to achieve attention or empathy.

It’s a result of one of those pensive moments etched in words where I wonder what took me so long to explore or write down my relation with pain, how I see it, know it or just what I think of it.

Its deep. Its cheap. All have it and none wants it. Some bear it and a few bare it. Some enjoy and some abhor it. Pain comes in all forms – mental, physical and spiritual. A sudden capture or slow spiral descent into break down, pain accompanies a human from origin to the end. Its companionship yet is not praised, neither respected nor understood.

Be it the auditory assault of a friend’s heartbreak or sensory delight of an opera, pain is a constant with change. We all know that change is always painful but never acknowledge the fact that it is also the cause of all growth and development. Now to think isn’t Pain pained from all the years of abuse when it is a universal equaliser. Why isn’t the beauty of eyes filled with pain praised as much as a chuckle full of noise? Why do we all think that those who are immune to pains are lucky? wouldn’t life be numb and incomplete without it?

It was pain that made me struggle all these years, learn, work and never look back at the life of ignorance and misery that my distant suburb offered me. It was pain that made me let go of love and give it meaning much grander than togetherness. It is pain of hurting others, pain of wrong doings, pain of failures that leads me to right course everyday. It’s the pain of sanity and perfection that helps me fight stagnancy and choice of a mediocre existence. It is the pain that I feel that reverberates in my mind as decisions and determinations. I fight yet to get rid of the old pains and then deal with the new ones life brings. Moving from the pains of fitting in to pains of standing out, I know today that if pain is a four letter word – so is life.

In the name of life

I danced the night away. Clinkering glasses of wine and spirits added to the rhythm of the night. We bathed on dance floor in colours of celebrations painted over our moods- blue and battered from weekdays of struggle at work. Escaping from an earful by the boss, parents and loved ones, our refuge was perfect only until on my way back I saw a man with his son, dressed in pristine white unapologetically sleeping on a park bench.

Skies began crying. It poured in streams and not droplets as if Mother Nature finally had turned teary eyed without any sobs or sound. Maybe she was not in mood to be consoled

They ran for shelter while I rolled up windows of my cab. The little one clutched big hands and tried to shake sleep off his eyes. Dreams were not meant for him. It was in harsh waking truths that his life was to shape up. I don’t know why but i stopped the vehicle near them. The man was apprehensive till I showed my press badge and asked if everything is alright. He asked me to watch over his son till he fetches his stuff he left behind near the bench and I nodded silently asking him to cover his head with a newspaper I had in my bag. As he moved some metres away with fast sogging offering that I had given him, cabbie asked the boy what they were doing there at this hour. The boy looked up and turned towards the man and just to let us know that if he tells us as the man would be angry.

Considering it a kidnap or some such shady business, I probed further and prompted the boy to speak up if there is anything wrong. I told him sleeping in park is illegal and police officers would be happy to get them moving if I complained.
At my attempt, looking down he muttered unapologetically that there is no need. Their landlord had thrown them out and his father – the man that he was with had no money, so they were waiting for the temple doors to open in the morning. By the time, he finished a few more details about where they lived and the tea stall that they had nearby, the October rain stopped, and father returned. I offered them a lift if they wanted to go anywhere and he refused. After which I asked the cabbie to move from there.

Yes, I was smashed yet, not with the drinks but with my own view of life
There might be many 8 year olds in this world calling sky their home, a few supporting their parents in daily struggle without knowing the role that they play. That kid for me is answer to my prayers for guidance about my life. I could never pray specifically and always asked god to show me the answers as i move ahead in journey of life. Today was a landmark, a reason to celebrate as true reverence and faith had met me in person. They were contained in a small frame with a smaller mind, big eyes and bigger questions but yes the child and his self respect was bigger as he never asked for money which a child would normally and easily in this situation and stood being half drenched with rains instead of seeking convenient comfort from helpful strangers.

His determination shone in his eyes to move ahead and change the situation without being apologetic and to face the life like his father who did not expect this young life to seek help elsewhere. I remembered my maid who helps my landlady run her household in clockwork precision keeping my mind off the trivialities. Also about the watchman who guards my home 24x7 with his meagre pay, the rickshaw drivers who have left me at my correct destination when I did not have a clue and strangers who were hardworking poor people without begrudging their challenges in life.

On the other hand, I had my day job, the deadlines that I was ready to crib about, and my humble abode which lacked the best paintjob i desired. I realised at that moment the easy route of self pitying behaviour prevalent in the queer community of my city. There are challenges that lie ahead of us – social acceptance, section 377, fear and misunderstandings at every junction of our lives.

I asked myself while climbing the stairs towards my home when I visit the parties and hang out with friends or date, what is the void that needs to be filled? It is the spark of determination that the kid had. His acceptance of his realities and will to support his dear ones through it rather than an easy rebellion route or self-pity can guide each one of us.

I was sleepy and ready to enter the realm of dreams. The ones that showed the blue print of change required in our attitudes. The brighter, better tomorrow where each one of us brings to the fore – our unique views and creates value rather than spilling over petty issues of sexual compatibility with the cruisers at a particular location.

I guess it is these experiences that are humbling and for which Billy Joel wrote River of dreams which I am ready to enter blissfully

Lights, Rights and Fights of a Suburban Life

21 grams is the exact weight you lose from your body when you stop breathing; rather living and reduce to a mere body; rather corpse. Is that the weight of human life?

That's a question posed by a movie, which I saw a few years back. I remember very little about the movie but this question has remained at back of my head ever since. I have got answers to it partially time and again but the complete picture I guess will emerge only in final years of my life or at least I hope so.

I am writing today after long as amidst a usual day full of struggles to reach work on time, meeting client deadlines, work handed down by boss, catching up with friends over phone or in person as something unusual happened and I asked this again

We had just finished our dinner rather left it in between and walked out after finding a family of roaches resting in the bread basket of a famous mughlai restaurant not far from my home (we didn't pay them a dime of course). A minute after expressing my disapproval over my NRI friend's holier than thou views about India and its need to improve spurred by the dinner incident that a speeding truck brushed past him pretty close and parked a minute ahead.

I don't know what got into me and I rushed to the truck instead of my friend leaving him with another colleague who he has never met before in his life. I stood in front of the giant vehicle and began yelling full blast at the driver on the deserted road well past midnight. The guy who was definitely under the influence of alcohol, was looking amused at my act as my friend had no visible injuries and he wasn't the one who was making the noise.

I did not hit the man and began making him understand where his fault lies. He had not honked or blinked his lights and was oblivious to the fact that in his steep turn he has not made his super close parking but nearly hit someone who was saved by a microsecond by my colleague who pulled my friend very briefly from a larger harm.

For a person like me who follows a philosophy aiming at world peace - Nicherin Daishonin's Buddhism , this would seemingly be contradictory to his beliefs. it is not so in fact. I made a scene and noise enough to gather an audience of 5-6 people including two rickshaw guys and snatched the driver's ringing phone which he was more focused on. He was non-chalant about the whole episode and was standing proudly with his arm stretched over the bonnet of this large automobile.

I flung at him all that he could do in any such situations and reacted to each of his arguments about not knowing Hindi, which he was surprisingly saying in Hindi. He followed it up with his attempt to play the local Marathi language card, which was again busted as I am conversant and fluent in the language. This was followed by his over the top claim that he would pay 10 - 12 thousand rupees whatever the cost of medical damage and come to police station with me after calling his boss.

I refused to budge over his half hearted sorry mumbled with no remorse what so ever. He was more worried about delay in dumping of goods that he had been carrying for the night. My anger was mounting by the minute and I was now manhandling him to get into a rickshaw and at the same time asking him if he has realised what he has done to which he retorted with a very desi "it happens" statement. That nailed it and I stopped right there and began again on twice my earlier voice. It wasn't just his mistake but more so his attitude that made me aggressive. I was downright close enough looking at him in the eye, inches from his face and hurling away to glory about his attitude. My problem was with his excuses, which were coming by the minute and piling up.

The man was not yet convinced of his mistake and the spectators began butting in trying to take my side and every time I said I would have hit him but I want him not to do something like this again, he gave me " don’t make a issue where there is none, your friend is alive" look.

I refused to relent till I hear the man admit and realise the impact of his action rather than cocky, half hearted apologies which were coming few and far in between his arguments of how honking horn would have irritated us who were from rich families and so he did not do it before turning the truck. The driver had to apologise since I gave him no other option.

He came up with a “Are you hurt?” and I looked back sharply. I saw my friend who was hurt and was now tired as he saw no point in continuing and the other one who was just waiting for me to begin hitting this man

As much as I yelled, the crowd nearby agreed and supported me by talking to the driver about what I was saying a while back i.e. his options like honking the horn or applying brake or blinking lights during the turn. I let him go but informed him about how he has to change and learn to accept his mistakes or else him and his truck would never have a good effect back and would end up leading a very sorry life as it took him good 20 minutes, public reactions and my refusal to hand his phone to him which he wanted badly. By the looks of it, he was more concerned about his calls rather than the human life that we were talking about.

It was then I handed him back his cell phone and told the guy that I wish that he changes his ways or else what has been averted today would happen and when his family runs around to get him out of jail, his boss – the contractor he was calling would actually make him realise what he has not.

We left and walked ahead to cool our heads with a drink of coffee we were originally seeking but decided to go to our respective homes instead.

Any other person would say that our day had ended on not so good note but I differ, all that happened reassured me to carry on my quest to find my answer. What is the actual weight of life? How much does it matter? How do we instil this knowledge of holding our lives as treasures of hope, dreams, love and everything there is to being alive? How do we make humans more humane?

I smoked thoughtlessly , walking towards my home which is close by and realised that I have to find out the way of talking to each of these truck drivers from within my boss, my friends, my family, my city, my country, the world and within myself. The dialogue has to continue. My task does not end at confrontation. My task is to continue holding the knowledge that human life is precious and to convert it into wisdom into my sphere of work. I have to insure my events, not to overlook the fire norms or medical attention for cost cutting. I have to stop compromising rather neglecting the voice within.

It is me who gives life its weight, its meaning. It is me who makes it what its worth. It’s us who chose with our daily lives every moment whether our 21 grams would be used to awaken the struggle to give living its dignity, it’s worth by keeping the human life at the forefront of whatever we do.

I have my answer now and assure you that I would do my best to make my 21 grams of life worth it.

Nostalgic nights

Holding your hands and walking in the clouds,
my days were full of joy, so full of you.

Soaring in the sky with wings of your dreams,
My moments flew in vivid nights, our nights

Listening to your heartbeat, a rhythm so pure
I was touched by an angel, not fallen of course

Thinking of your ways and sweet smiles,
My blues just vanished as you filled my space, my horizons

As you open a new chapter of your heart each time,
I believe we met cos we were destined to

Treasuring togetherness, a boon of your presence,
My life seems now more complete, sculpted to perfection and blessed by him