Clothing The Mind

If by changing clothes
the mind could change
the textile industry
would have flourished.

Mind's nature changes
not by clothes,designer suits
or Michael Angelo's brushes,
Yes changes, when blood spills
from stabbed wounds,
when children turn away
leaving weeping old eyes.
When cry of raped women
is left unheard on roads,
when illusionary flashes
of lovers mock at you,
when silence returns
from stone walls
the mind whirls
like a broken top
what clothes can restore
mind's wholeness.

Sabita Sahu

Choosing Unhappiness

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

What holds life together? A few rituals, habit patterns woven into routines, emotions feeding on agreeable words from near and dear ones, random thoughts moving around the epicenter of faith- a faith in a succession of tomorrows crowding in to prolong desires, or just a body-mind play of biotic inevitability? But those who run away from desires, renounce all agreeable, pleasurable things available around without effort, and focus on something impalpable, abstract and unrealizable in breathing life - they too think  they are alive and hold their lives together. Desire and pursuits of pleasure: desirelessness and pursuit of abstractions are also life. The indulgent man absorbing all contrarian ethics and the men of irritable temper rejecting almost all nuances of logic live lives and both, I’m sure, live an allotted life span. So, how can we assess what makes life worthy? And here is the rub: who determines worthiness and why should man bother about it?

All regional diversities notwithstanding, man has always questioned the available value systems of life. Should life be lived for greater joy and comfort in the other world? It means abstinence; giving up and withdrawal from one’s own reality for a future paradise. It means abnegation of self for values unseen but hoped for. It means self created unhappiness by rejecting what is real as unworthy of life. Jimmy Porters (Look Back In Anger) of the world always laugh mockingly at what others practice with some faith.  Jimmy could have had the satisfaction of feeding good sweets to Londoners. He could have earned more money and reputation as a Mithaiwala. But he thought he was ill placed, much below for his qualification. Why didn’t he do something else instead of turning a cynical eye at everything, thereby roughing up the smooth contours of other lives? If it was a forced choice he should not have submitted to it if his abilities deserved something better. But no, he chooses to be unhappy. So are many in the world who choose to be unhappy. Some people try to walk on water, fire and nails just to demonstrate that they are superior to others. Such vain obsessions make lives lived in vain. But before we condemn such people and others who in dreaming of Utopia lose their reality, we must ask the oft asked question: Is there any purpose in life?

Right through human civilization of the past 4000 years purpose, worth and other related questions have been asked. Philosophers and religious thinkers have given their answers. Prescriptions have come from life-doctors. Today with the growth of population such doctors too have increased in numbers. But whose ‘purpose’ defines life and makes it worth following? All political parties give meaning and purpose to life and compete with each other for survival. Isms in philosophy, religion, ethics, politics have given man more pain. These have made life difficult which otherwise is a very simple proposition.

Man mercifully is mortal. He is not born fully packaged as did Draupadi. From birth to early youth the human child is to be looked after. Naturally this involves the service of a mother and a provider like father. Then he works (or should work) to survive. He takes upon himself, that is, he chooses to raise a family as a responsible man. He has to adjust himself with the competing forces for his survival. Why then clatter his mind with so many mutually exclusive ideals like god and devil, good and evil, freedom and slavery. Leave him to his own devices. Man is born with native intelligence. He can take detours if he sees danger on the way. Why ask him to go in a particular way? Happiness is a state, which all ideals believe, comes in the end. But in the end only death comes closing all reckoning. By preaching and teaching we condition the human mind to unipolar ways of thinking. Man can choose what to do when the going gets tough. Since man has survived and grown (despite or because of) – all teachings, let him now breathe freely.

We choose one form of unhappiness in preference to its rivals, for, by limiting life to one ideal we suffer the rigours of the ideal. Nature and life are vast and various. Freedom of choice is nature’s only message and training. Let man choose his own unhappiness that is the consequences of his choice. I have seen that any choice, a religious practice, a political party or social group or a lover you choose unhappiness in the name of happiness. If happiness does not become the goal of any choice at least the consequential suffering will be less painful, as it is self chosen.

Crossroads

Crossed a long way

half life gone
yet undiscovered purpose,

cannot go forward

nor can retrace steps

should I unravel mysteries

or simply wait for the call!

Never thought I would ever

hang midway like Trishanku

neither heaven nor earth is mine

the nest I made is empty

prayers unanswered.

Hopes turn turtle, life wanes

but can’t give up, nor leave

things half done on this earth

what would I say when asked

did I not listen to his call-

or he did not lift me up!

No, I’ll move rise and build

play  and frolic in the wild

laugh away his taunts

tide over this analysis

and reach my goal wherever

my jocund spirit takes me to.

Sabita Sahu

Reservation Man

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

We are familiar with Reserve Forests, Reservatories for the protection of animals, trees and beasts or birds. Now in India we have another category in the social sector: The Reservation Man (Woman too). About fifty years ago the world became familiar with Organisation Man, a category of regimented minds functioning as robots in the capitalistic organizations. In India today we have now the Reservation Man who is at the mercy of the state. Like the human condition determined by nature, the state represented by elected representatives now determines the fate and future of a large section of the society. It was fifty percent earlier, now it is going to be 60 percent, defined by caste, economic condition and group strength to wield pressure on the state. It has the numerical strength to paralyse the state buy launching strikes, bunds and agitations. We are hardly Indians for we are free by constitutional authority to refuse to sing the National Anthem. We are free to spread canards against our own country, question judgements of the Supreme Court of India and even to question the constitution of a bench to try a long pending case. This defiant freedom is championed by political parties only to pressurize governments to yield to all legitimate and illogical self- stultifying demands. Democracy gives us the right if we have the numbers.

Ambedkar, the father of the Constitution wisely decided to give reservations to the  scheduled castes and tribes for ten years, to integrate into the larger frame of the society, people who were subdued and ill-treated for long centuries in our history, by giving them education and jobs. But after 72 years we see the same situation continuing with greater ferocity. The population has increased and naturally the other caste groups by their sheer numbers have agitated to get the stamp of Reservation. The Jats, Patidars, Marathas who have lived with pride and affluence now are demanding reservations only to get the identity of a political pressure group. Months before the election in Madhya Pradesh the so called upper castes, the Brahmins and others demanded reservation. They toppled the Government by voting for another party, thereby demonstrating their democratic rights.

The Modi Government sprang a surprise on the country on the last day of the Parliament’s winter session by introducing a bill for 10 percent reservation in the ‘unreserved’ upper class. The only grace of the bill is, it is caste religion neutral. Economic backwardness is hoped to be lessened by this bill. But what shocks the people who think reservation is a demeaning slur on the people in a democracy is the views expressed by the members of Parliament who participated in the debate. Those who are already beneficiaries of reservation, the OBC, and SC and ST argue that since the population of these reserved categories of people has increased, there must be a fresh survey and the present 49.5 percent should be raised to 85 percent.  Some even suggested 100 percent. Wow! We now have a democracy where the thought, debate based on new imaginaries of a new India are relevant. The numbers will decide our fate. Those who win elections are not really the prophetic intellectuals who can shape the destiny of a country. Bernard Shaw was always right: the right thinking people are always in the minority; they cannot be part of any pressure group. If the quota competition continues in the second half of the present century India would be a country of Reservation Men blindly voting parties who would perpetuate reservation.

Normally anyone would be tempted to ask: O’ you members of Parliament, are you not satisfied with ruining the Universities, killing gifted minds, levels of intelligence, creativity suppressing talents of generations? Are you not satisfied with the feast of ceremonial dullness displayed in our technical institutes? Are you not satisfied with killing innovation? If not, make the few who have escaped your net of perdition of your slaves by introducing 100 percent reservation. Kill merit to promote mediocrity so that by 2080 India would enter some book, Guinness or otherwise, as a country of Reservation Man where merit is a sin. Posterity will be proud of you politicians for destroying initiative and inquisitiveness.

If you wish India to be a better and more prosperous country abolish caste and religion from public life. Those who are poor give them scholarships and send them to good institutions. Make the Universities throbbing centers of excellence. Try and remove the stigma of reservation from the destiny of the people. Let man strive for his excellence utilizing his native talent. Do not create yes men; create men and women who would aspire for the  stars as proud individuals- not as caged birds singing what you teach them for votes.

Paradise

Come my forlorn denizen

the  breakfast is ready

rain water for juice

pearly dew baked in sunlight

garnished with my breath-

served on lotus petal

come, end my wait of centuries,

come dearest let not things get cold.

Lunch on the edge of shore

of  magic sand,puffy clouds,

saline spray as starter,

rhythm of bangles and anklets

as main course at sun’s winking delight

come love enjoy my fare.

Supper in the Island of flowers ,

warmth of  arms as soup, 

embrace as chief course

dessert a long kiss

to make  you forget the agony

and take you to the stars for good.

Come dear Paradise is here again...

Sabita Sahu

Mother

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

‘Mother give me the Sun’, says the dying young man to his mother in Ibsen’s play. Can a mother give the sun to her dying son as the final toy for his calm sleep! Yes, the mother alone can, for she brings out life out of her innards after carrying for languid months of joy, pride and fear in her womb. When the babe kicks inside she places her palm to feel the nascent sensation in ecstatic thrill. She grows heavy and looks beautiful, her best in fulfilment of womanhood. When a boy is born the family and friends, relatives and neighbours dance around the new mother  with her  treasure in her lap in riotous feasting. A girl child, particularly in India, makes motherhood a curse. Like Ganga in the Mahabharat sacrificing sons in the Ganges families cut the umbilical cord in rage and throw the bleeding new born in ditches. A Muslim mother of a girl child may get a triple Talaq for her ill fated motherhood. Mother is after all a woman, she can be used and thrown for she is a mere child bearing machine for the pleasures of patriarchy. In my early youth, I remember to have heard a young man yelling at his mother for having given inadequate breakfast( He was Gluttonous): Mother I can give you everything a woman needs except one thing; you carried me for 10 months in your womb, I can’t ... I haven’t forgotten how a highly educated ( but unemployed) young man of a good family can shriek to his mother words that are too banal to even hear.

Sociologists too do not have a good word for the mother. Eric Fromm writes: Growth means the freedom of the child from the protection of the mother. And who is mother; She is your father’s wife. In India we have the story of Parshuram who killed his mother to satisfy his father Jamadagni. We say good things about the mother only in novels or on public platforms to woo them to surrender to our wishes. Modern civilization with all its modernity and liberalism has not given an identity to mother. A child or a person is known by his father, the mother’s name is expendable. Although we say that the mother is the angel of the house, she holds in display a happy family but always remains as a shadowy presence. We glorify the mother as the nourisher of the mankind but never give any social prominence to a mother. Even Shakespeare has not made a mother venerable. Hamlet speaks daggers to Gertrude. Her freedom, her love, her individuality are overshadowed by the Shenanigans of the male world. God is always the father: Christ is the son of God, the mother remains unmentioned, often unacknowledged.

In the Indian epics no woman is given the pride of place as mother. Queen Satyabati, Kunti, Gandhari- all have been extolled as woman but not as mothers. Sita in the Ramayana, is the most abused and dishonoured as mother. The most worshipped Avatar in India, the most honourable king Rama doubts her personal honour. She enters the family of Rama only after going through a fire test as her chastity is in question. The same question about Sita’s chastity is raised after she gets pregnant and the honourable Ramachandra discards her, doubting her motherhood. Why? Why does woman never get her due recognition as mother? We accept, rather take for granted her role in the family but never respect a woman as mother. She gives birth to man, sustains mankind but she has no honour as mother. In the 20^th century, the respect as mother was accorded to only one person- Mother Teresa. She never was a mother in the biological sense, but her qualities, service was endowed with the honorific – Mother. Is this not hypocrisy. A real mother is never honoured yet the quality of motherhood is acknowledged. This is ironical, and shows that we hoist the image discarding the real.

The mother is one you go away from, seldom come back to. She is a sacrificial figure not only in India but everywhere. Most Indian women raise their children in poverty and makes utmost sacrifice to make their children face the world with dignity. But she has no place in the lives of their children once they marry and live separately. Those who keep their mothers with them treat them as unsalaried servants. When the daughter-in-law expects a child in some foreign country, the mother becomes important. Mothers go only to serve their daughters and daughters in law during the period of pregnancy. After childbirth mothers are the nurses, cooks and free servants. Once the new mother becomes fit to resume the normal duties of life, the mother is sent back. She merely waits for a phone call on Mother’s Day, a day fixed by civilization to remember the mother at least for a day in the year.

 A mother’s sacrifices cannot be recompensed or refurbished or compensated. Till her last breath a mother wishes all the best for her children. Her unseen presence hovers around the children with blessings and she pines for them all the time. Children today are definitely conscious about the mother but do not show the concern she deserves. Ye children! Remember you are what you are because of a woman’s sacrifices: she is your mother. Show your love and respect for that’s all she needs.

Statue

You broke the statue

throbbing with living beauty

sun moon star studded

on the vast canopy of sky

shading the earth for life’s

perpetual celebration.

But your intemperate mind

saw death in everything

you broke the statue

which you never made

scorched the earth

to divide in maps

you made the statue a quarry

to sell chips of starlike glow

at tinsel market places.

The statues you make

The Bamiyan Buddha,

Konark, Somnath are

fodder to time’s ants:

now you stare at them

standing like statues

nerveless listless dead.

Come my dears be Human

put the stars in their place

make the green earth whole

for that is your role

to celebrate life here;

for man is a speaking statue

The greatest ever made.

Sabita Sahu