Rightfully Resilient (M2)

If there was one word that the private television channels kept harping on during the 72 hours of siege of the Hotel Taj and the other landmarks of Mumbai, it was resilience. Every time when terror and horror stuck many of the Indian cities, they forgot the terrifying moments and soon after returned to their humdrum reality. They could not afford to be bogged down by these stray incidents to dampen their spirit. It was said that the people of Mumbai were fed up of the word and did not want to think about it; at least that was how many of the firebrand tele-reporters harked from in front of the hotel that only millionaires could frequent. It is not for us to decide if the Mumbaikars should have been resilient like the people of other cities, like the daily commuters of Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus, which also bore the brunt of the terrorist attacks. While the daily wage earners could recoil back, the high society brooded over, if they should return to their daily routines. But that was resilience from a different angle.

If we look at nature we cannot but marvel at the magic and miracle encircling this enchanting planet and the universe at large. If you have had the fortune of lying down on a lawn in a remote village on a fullmoon day, and gazing at the movement of the moon, and the whole court of the stars twinkling in the sky. It is a treat for the eyes. Scientists often frighten the people saying how the earth is on the verge of a collision with another star or planet, and that would be the end of the earth, and of humanity. But very often such comments are proved to be far from truth; it does not require great wisdom and knowledge to assume that such things cannot easily take place in the universe, because the earth has its own system of reverting back to its normal existence; in other words, resilience is another name for the magic of the world we live in.

Having drowned by my painful memories, today I would like to turn my attention to this vast universe, in which the earth is but a tiny dot. If I sit quietly and concentrate on the millions of things that have been automated by a powerful force, so that the earth knows its orbit and would move accordingly. The sun would do its revolution, and so are the stars. The sun does not fail to move, nor does the earth. I would like to think of a day when I get up in the morning and don’t find the sun to greet me; and an evening when I don’t see the moon taking her rounds, to guard her children sleeping in the open, showing them the way. See the way a tree keeps growing, never getting tired of her growth, nor refusing the bear fruits because she is too old to yield. Or look at the birds of the air and the animals of the jungle, each one is a miracle, and no one gives up after a great tragedy strikes. They all revert back to their earlier existence. Turning a new leaf is nothing new to them.

But unfortunately that is something new for us all. We cannot forget things, events, and persons who have caused great damage to us. Forgiving and forgetting are the impossibilities that is written in the diaries of most of us. But sincerely speaking, is it because we are incapable of returning back to our earlier life, after a great tragedy strikes us? Is there something blocking us from returning to our lives as it was before. I might sound rather pessimistic and negative if I were to say that often we have a passive pleasure in holding on to these painful memories. We would not like to give them up, because there is an aspect of self-pity and a sense of loss, from which we think we can gain a lot of psychological satisfaction.

Today while walking along the road, I came across a dog, which had a leg, which had been partly hanging from its knee. Probably about two inches of the bone had been broken and now healed; it walked joyfully without complaining, or moaning over the great act of cruelty that a human person would have caused. I would like to go out of my four walls to open field or ground, to look around, not so much the lifeless walls made of cement and mortar and bricks, but look at trees, birds, insects, the clouds, the sun and the moon… and the people around me! Let me not think anything, but just observe them, and slowly I may hear a voice deep within talking to me. Let me listen to that thin voice; it may have a beautiful message for me! It is specially sent for me. It may come from anyone or anything; even a blade of grass may be able to give me a lesson in resilience. Who knows I may see a small window opening for me to come out of the prison I had put myself into!