Monday, September 27, 2010

Little things of life



The daily chores of life bores us at times and the fact that I just returned from a beautiful holiday was not helping at all to lessen the effects of the stark reality. The same monotony, which we beautifully hide by the grandiose terms of duty and ambition, sometimes fail to impress us. Perhaps the mindset of my race, Bengali, has something to do with high thinking and plain idling. An example might help. Few enthusiastic students from our college days went for a difficult trekking trip. On return, they were boasting about how high they managed to climb and how exhaustive it was. To their surprise, the majority of listeners were not at all impressed. Further dampening was on the way. A naughty boy commented - "ultimately you came down again, didn't you ? so, why go up..".

To find out why I do the daily activities and why the duties bound us , philosophical I may become. However, that requires pushing the mind to an abstract frame, which definitely a lazybone mind disallows in times like this. Rather, I took a different approach to find the work interesting. Something I observe in my young son.



To him, every little moment is exciting. His mind is playful, watching the toy cars move. His demands are mischievous, requiring us to forget our age. His joy knows no bounds when he finds a balloon in the air. He contemplates might but he broods not. His life dwells around the small things of life. No wonder, he is child. To him, the world is new. As much as if we are put into the world of fantasy, where our sense of wonder never ceases. The joy of finding things unknown is perhaps the greatest joy. The joy that we miss. With every day passing, to us the cloud becomes mere cloud, the road becomes just a road, the morning dew - a seasonal thing. It is difficult for us to regain that, unless we attach a story to the thing.

There are two dimensions to every small task we undertake, one spatial and another temporal (forgive the due technicality). The spatial aspect is that when I walk down the road, another old lady is walking along amidst the falling leaves. A kid is collecting the leaves with indefatigable enthusiasm. The chirping of morning birds are different, perhaps. Large number of people are logging in the growing body called internet, talking over long distance through hidden waves around us. Every being together is on pursuit of another humbling day. The temporal aspect is even stronger, evoking nostalgia and awe at the same time. The road have been covered by many people yesterday and will be walked upon by many tomorrow. This software editor, through which I am trying to put down my little thoughts, is made possible by relentless endeavor to communicate, to make life beautiful. The little program I was debugging yesterday, will perhaps contribute to this journey. I owe it to this world. I share my every step in a grand orchestra being played by everyone together. I keep my history of moments recorded via every tiniest of actions, never to live the magic moment again.

Then, in such a thoughtful afternoon, I lived through a past of mine. I picked up the pen, gifted to me by someone I love. I cleaned the writing desk, slowly, remembering how I did it when I was young - to win cleanliness contests in our boarding school. I picked up some vegetables on my way back home, watching the vendor to be happy as his hard day was coming to close. I remembered my early sojourns to market with my father, with a big sense of responsibility as I was allowed to carry a bag.

I woke up happier next morning.

3 comments:

  1. Really nice to read...! I like to think in temporal way while visiting any monument. That gives a very nice feeling of the visit.
    Ribhu must be making you understand the world again with his cute and innocent findings. Where was the first photo taken?

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  2. @-B
    the first photo was taken at Antalya airport, Turkey. That was how Turkey welcomed us.

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  3. Really touching & after read it i touch once that wonderful touch of mind.

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