Us

 “Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation”.

A sentiment echoed across time.  And yet, something which the closer we get to understanding, the farther it seems to slip.

They used to say of Alexander that his greatest flaw was that he never understood that it is not enough to conquer; you must know how to charm. They said the same of Curzon, that he had too much hubris. And they say the same for the millions of wretched souls who are accused of taking what they had for granted and realising its value only when it was snatched from them.

And at cursory glance, they seem to be correct. Only seem, mind you, for the moment you start digging deeper, you realise that what is often mistaken as a sign of callous indifference or smug disdain is actually one of the most basic human needs-the need to feel cherished, to feel important. Be it a prince or a pauper, every one of us relishes the thought that someone, somewhere, is waiting for us to call, to come home to, to just be there. But the tempestuous rascal that love is, it takes on a perverted form whereby we reverse roles and take this liberty with exactly those people whom we should be nurturing the most. We commit endless transgressions and justify them in the name of testing the bond. We pride ourselves on our carefree natures and devil-may-care attitudes, not realising that we are treading on very fine ice. And this macabre charade continues, passing back and forth between the two sides, till we stretch the bond to its utmost, right till the point of breaking.

The irony of life is that we never get to break the bond, no matter how much we stretch it. No, that is the prerogative of the others. And even the others don’t break it, for if they had the gumption to do so, there would never have been a bond in the first place. As Ghalib says, "Kabhi tu na tod sakta, agar ustawaar hota". 

So, if it’s not us and it’s not them, then how does this bond break? Who snaps it asunder and doesn’t feel the sting? The world. The world and its smug dictum that it is doing what we are too weak to do by ourselves. Way too much of popular fiction and media has told us that the universe conspires to bring us what we want. But experience seems to prove otherwise. Experience seems to show that beyond a meagre handful of relations cultivated across the span of a lifetime, most others enter our lives just because they did not have anything else to do at that point in their lives. It’s not that these people have mal-intent in their hearts. The problem is that they don’t have any intent. But as with all other fleeting entities, their allure is captivating, their concern seems legitimate, their opinions sound staunch.

And we sway. Too fatigued with the burdens we are carrying, we pass on this vicarious mantle onto them, to make what they will of our lives. Our lives. It seems like such a lovely thing to do, have someone around to comfort you and clean up the mess in your life. We cultivate a host of them around us and for a brief interlude, we are the world! The cynosure of every eye, the topic of every discussion, the fragile yet desirable ones. The moon is ours for just sixpence!

What we ignore is that this too shall pass. And very soon, it does. The novelty fades away first, then the excitement. Sometimes, we become conscious of imposing on other people’s lives, of distracting them from their cares. At other times, we are told that the worst has passed and we must learn to move on. And right here, the question hits us, how?

How do you move on? For the one person whom we could take these liberties with, whom we could throw tantrums at, who could understand our unspoken words, is the one person missing. The memories that only they remember and that only we admire, come back to haunt us. On the one hand is the desire to shun our vanity and concede. On the other is the shame of looking hapless in front of the people who are concerned for us but would mock our frailty. Which of these two paths we take is a very subjective and personal decision. There really cannot be any one way to decide. Yet, a little anecdote on native Cherokee wisdom seems pertinent here;

One evening, an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, “My son, the battle between two wolves is inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, jealousy, envy, regret, greed, arrogance, resentment, ego and guilt. The other is Good. It is peace, love, hope, humility, compassion, empathy, serenity, joy and faith.” The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked, “Which wolf wins?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed” .

Here’s hoping that we learn to distinguish between the two wolves, know whom to feed, and nurture what we have before it slips away into the sands of time. For the greatest regret in life is for the deeds left undone and the words left unsaid. 

                           “A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, 

a Loaf of Bread, a Jug of Wine and Thou 

Beside me singing in the Wilderness, 

Oh, Wilderness is Paradise now !!”