Bruised and battered

#184

Living in this country is a sin; worst karmic punishment to death by drops than a snap by a noose. This society is intrinsically that of robbers, dacoits, highway stickup artists.

            Take Indian politics and it's a gutter; the stench of a corporation garbage can. Our MLAs are herded to a resort each time there is an imminent threat. Sonia Gandhi, the Italian, can’t speak a sentence without a European accent. She has no leadership or administrative acumen; highly probable she has lesser intellect than your kindergarten teacher. That she has managed to survive 3 decades in the cesspool of politics indicates just this: she controls the treasury of 3 generations loot. Indians don’t suck up to a family unless there is a sugar mountain to nibble. Politics is such a untreated sewage of industrial waste. Imagine a company whose turnover is 10 crores and employs 100 people – do you think any employee would respect the CEO if the man is all over IT cases, ED raids or appears in the gossip columns. The corrupt media is bought over; every so called analyst on television discusses anything under the sun than reality. It does not require a Holmes to deduce, “Gehlot sucks up to the Gandhis with regular payouts; he has his own set of money managers who do the dirty work (so that gives a buffer of deniability if caught), distributes power to win loyalty, and carries on the burdens of administering a state in senility. Gehlot at least speaks a sentence of sense which is beyond a Joe Biden in America. From politics the Himalayan stench fills our lives --- nepotism at work (every industrialists is succeeded by this sons or daughters and we wait till they dissent and break-up), the movies are full of sex and violence with bird brained plots (Madhuri’s “Choli ke peeche” is the level). So we end up worshiping cricketers (you need some ability to reach that level) and film stars who are shameless to any degree (the word “actor” in any language means a “prostitute”) while the system keeps out a good and brainy chap like me bruised and battered. Just swamped and run over by mediocrity and I am “keeping my legs up in good cheer” not participating any commercial or social activity of Bhartvarsha, jumbudvepa!!!

            My idling brain continues to spurt out wisdom like a leaky tap as it dwelt on prayers. If you are living in India you need tons of faith. How you word your prayers is extremely important. If the Lord where to appear before you, “Ask a boon and it shall be done.” In my younger days when I was already cynical I would have said, “Give me a ATM where my balance never reduces below 1 lac no matter how many times I withdraw in a day AND a Bollywood heroine for the nocturnal pleasures.” I am not one of those guys wiping noses of kids or change nappies. I never had a cherished childhood and so let no kid go through me. Then you read a lot of spiritual gibberish where you are taught to say, "Lord, give me wisdom and detachment. Viveka and Vairagya by which I attain moksha.” Now pushing 50+ I realize how much of a con this is. If you have never had a taste of refined happiness of moksha and you want that delivered on a platter. If I was God I would have replied, “O bhakta, you are incredibly foolish. I am ashamed of you. I withdraw my boons and you can scratch your balls for all I care.” Before I zeroed on this prayer yesterday (reason enough for a blog): Let me make peace with my mind. Here I take onus on what is happening in my mind; it is within grasp and it needs my efforts. And peaceful thoughts leads to better feelings and an equanimous state.

            Yesterday I watched “Saving Mr. Banks” and it blew me away. The movie shows a desperate Walt Disney coaxing Mrs. Travers for the movie-rights of her book “Mary Poppins”.  Travers is a cantankerous woman; she is a cranky old dame quick to take offense, nasty retorts (literary genius you see). She is one those worst teachers who a Pink Floyd caricatured in “Just another brick in the wall” song. Emma Thompson as Mrs. Travers was a genius casting; you felt those barbs and sarcasm for a brilliant script writing. There was a beautiful line in the movie- Life is an illusion. You don’t know what’s going to happen but whatever will happen has already happened in the past.” This triggered this thought in “we are forever surprised by our lives which is useless vanity when the past just keeps repeating itself day after day with every little change.” We never get tired of our silly stories, we are addicted to our sorrows because we love to wallow on our past repeating endlessly. This is MAYA. You can go through life as a sick worm and worry about your grades, your jobs, your faithless wives, ungrateful kids with nothing new to masticate in the head. Tell me, how many of us climb the Everest or game enough for a ski or do bungee jumping or any stupid thing. We don’t even know the stars on the overhead skies; we learn no instruments and play deaf to music; we don't know how to shepherd a herd much less milk a cow, or worse still not take cudgels for a fight. We are programmed for mediocrity, to go with the flow. And we end up living from a useless book of role-plays. No species on the planet is as insular as an Indian!!! 

            Then this realization steals over: we live in our minds. We carry that mind to the next world when the body is dusted and immersed in the rivers. To such an immortal mind we pay no heed and busy in shopping malls out to impress our neighbours. Life slips away moment to moment; we pride in the noisily ignorance of our small, petty lives. So let me pray: let me make peace with the flowing thoughts of my mind.  Let me drive my own car in the journey I carve. And I will put this silly letter "I" before anyone and any event. I live to celebrate my life and I am the master of my ship. Bugger off.