Yeh Kya Ho Raha Hai!!!

I’ve often been critical and, on many occasions, a cynical person. I also tend to avoid communicating my views where I don’t see a point. While on one hand it avoids unpleasant interactions and controversies, on the other hand it supresses the feeling, denying them a vent. Perhaps due to this, during the last few months, my behaviour, communication and even thoughts have become bitter. The delay in house construction (against the estimated time) and a few more factors have intensified this bitterness. I’ve tried to understand and express this feeling in a couple of blog posts. This one is another attempt at understanding this state and also communicating with all those to whom, my behaviour might have appeared rude, arrogant, uncaring, critical or cynical.

Let me begin from the time we moved out of Mumbai. At this time, there was none of this bitterness, as far as I can recollect.

During these first few months, we met many people, who belonged to the self-proclaimed ‘alternate’ sphere. If not their actions, at least their thoughts were alternate. We were applauded for our clarity of thought and courage to act. Many of them genuinely respected us, many loved and cared for us. It was during these months, that a I acquired a sense of moral high-ground. From this high ground, I started looking down upon people who could not act on their convictions, people who kept making excuses for their inaction, who were caged in their insecurities, who did not care enough for their own and their loved ones’ health, education of children, environment, social justice and the like. What could be more, many of them reinforced these notions by admitting it themselves. I even told a few friends that I find myself uninterested in discussing their petty problems; that if they were really wanted to solve their problems, then and only then should they engagge into discussing them. All my communication stemmed from this sense of superiority. My decision to move into an untrodden path had already alienated me. This sense of superiority increased the distance even more.

I was perhaps too busy to notice this then. We shifted to Barkheda, lived through testing times, got ourselves used to cooking on chulha, working and interacting with village labourers, giving our children the environment we wanted to. I engaged in physical hard work, lost the flab I’d accumulated during my elite urban lifestyle. I could notice that not many could actually do or even think of doing what we had already done. The sense of superiority hightened further. From this higher plane, I began despising all those alternate thinkers, who could not bring themselves to do what I was doing. I became critical of many of their actions and characteristics. For some reason, I felt that they agreed with me and accepted their inferiority.

Then came in the first glimpse of ground reality. There was a confrontation and we were told that all our courage, morality, ability to adapt to wilderness and such characteristics notwithstanding, we will have to live by the prevailing rules of the game. I cried foul, “But you said you were alternate and you will abide by principles.” They said, “Yes, but who said that we will abide to ‘your’ principles?” Despite all efforts, they stuck to their stand. We had to move out of Barkheda and write off all work we’d done. This event shook me at a very fundamental level. This was a big blow to my sense of superiority. This currency of superiority did not have much value.

In the next few months, my sense of superiority kept on getting beaten. We got appreciation but no more. I dug deeper into this anger at the Barkheda group, at a few others, who were unappreciative or indifferent. The realisation dawned that it was incorrect of me to view myself at a moral high ground. All events and behaviours are program-run and there is no credit or guilt that one can take for his actions or decisions. What we do, rather, whatever happens is simply the result of the interaction of numerous variables. My characteristics are participants in this reaction and my characteristics in turn are the result of reaction between some other variables. So what am I, but an illusion. Whatever happened in Barkheda was exactly as it was supposed to happen.

I grew out of my sense of superiority – at least intellectually. At a much deeper level, the acceptance of this realisation did not happen. Even now, this realisation hasn’t reached the sub-conscious level. Even today, the sponteneous response to an event or communication follows the same pattern. But when I become conscious of the response, I need to remind myself.

We’ve reached an interesting point here. During the last few months, I’ve been struggling to get the thoughts together, but was constantly getting driven off-track by the emotions. This is probably the benefit of writing.

Let me briefly elaborate the realisation before I get to the interesting point. The realisation is that whatever happens is a function of a complex equation involving multiple variables and cannot be attributed to personal characteristics alone. Also, that personal characteristics like courage, patience, etc are themselves a result of some other complex equation involving multiple variables. Therefore the ‘I’ is an illusion, whereas the reality is that I am nothing but a means or machinery of execution.

The interesting point is that there is a gestation for this realisation to get accepted in the sub-conscious. The deeper level acceptance is yet to happen.

Now, while the sense superiority has been beaten down and the realisation is yet to enter a deeper level, my social needs started surfacing. I realised that I don’t belong anywhere. People around me, in the villages have no clue about me. They still haven’t figured out who I am, why am I here, what is it that I’m doing or attempting. Sometimes they look at me with suspicion, sometimes with wonder, sometimes with greed, sometimes with need. My friends and colleagues in the city don’t know what to talk to me. I’ve probably offended many of them and haven’t even said sorry. The new ‘alternate’ social circle doesn’t include me. I’m yet unable to comprehend the reasons, but the fact is that I don’t belong there too.

As I view myself today, I am not able to justify why I’ve got myself and my family in the situation where we’re facing challenges and facing them alone. Of course, the change in lifestyle has resulted in tremendous benefits. The benefits are so large that we cannot decide to return to the earlier lifestyle.

I know that I’m not going through a very enthusiastic phase. But I also know that this phase has arrived after a forward movement in my journey. I must go through this. There  is no other way...