The Moment of Truth

 

 

As I sit in the living room of our apartment in the darkness of the night and let myself go, I am lost to shores unknown, hopelessly lost in the warp and weft of life with its unceasing mysteries. As if by reflex, I look out of the window to star-gaze at a sky that is bereft of the luminous astral bodies, polluted by the city haze.

In this mesmerizing moment of solitude, I shake all rigidity, all prejudice and all unsavoury thoughts. I am like an empty raft that glides peacefully with the current of the river. I surrender to the forces of existence with gay abandon and retrace my footsteps to destinations of years ago, reflect, introspect. In this instant of deep trust, I sense a beautiful beginning, a subtle awakening!

I don't place myself in the rungs of any ladder - I never did. I've not ever, not at any time, aspired to run any race. Except of course, as a kid and teenager, in simple community sports and cultural activities that gave you just about anything ranging from confectionary to household items as prizes! Stuff that we winners shared with all those around us, or items that our mothers made use of in their kitchens. These 'prized' objects were plenty and came in at regular intervals whenever sports events and dramatics were held as annual features of the colony we lived in. Being nimble of feet and having a light frame, gave me a decided edge in the sports arena. As for the playacting bit, it was perhaps a catharsis of sorts which I enjoyed to the hilt.

Competing and participating in contests was not my cup of tea even during my student years. While I was reasonably good at academics, I was cerebrally challenged in the area of Mathematics, or so my family believed. With time, the sense of inadequacy in this area grew upon me, obviously with no solution in sight. A couple of red lines for drawing and needlework indicating "fail", added a dash of monochrome hue to the pink report card we got at the end of the year. Obviously, this meant not getting a rank no matter how I fared in the other subjects.

I would be dishonest if I said school was exciting. For, convent schools of those days were not. Pedagogy was not child-centric and corporal punishments were routine. But with due respect to my alma matar, we had some exceptional teachers who left indelible footprints in the sands of time. If one of the most dreaded, Rose Gomes, my class teacher in 5th grade shaped my handwriting, Ms.Silgardo who we called 'Hitler', instilled in me a strong sense of discipline and systematic approach to work. Ironically, it was our Maths teacher in high school who not only kindled in me a love for the subject, but also taught me one of life's invaluable lessons - to strive to be without EGO.

Academics aside, as most TamBram girls those days, along with my sister, I too was initiated into music - both vocal and violin. While Carnatic Classical Music has always been very close to my heart, by no measure do I share the sweet voice of my younger sibling. I took to learning the violin with great gusto, inspired by the unparalleled melody produced by the late legend and maestro Shri Lalgudi Jayaraman on the instrument. Parental pride in the prowess of their progeny even before she could master the basics, was unnerving. I would be asked to perform whenever an occasion presented itself, and that was once too often. The family into which I am wedded not being really musically inclined then, provided the apt excuse to give up the twin exercises. But in this performing and fine art, I continue to find a panacea for every malady, whether of the body, mind or soul. It's a quintessential elixir, a balm for bruised and battered beings. I remain a dedicated lover of music - wouldn't dare to call myself its aficionado or connoisseur.

For the meandering soul that has now turned sublime, seeking superior turf, the events of the yesteryears are now a blur. It no longer matters that I am David while my siblings are the Goliaths, both in stature and achievements, or that I do not share their melodious voices or that I am a mathematical pygmy who can't match up to the Titans in the field. It no longer matters that I have interests that are apart, and that I pursue them at my own pace, savouring every moment of my life spent in their pursuit. I am running no race, competing with no one except with my own self, to better myself each moment, each day so that I am closer to God on the day of reckoning. I am content in the cosy confines of my home and family - in my vast wide world where I am the 'bestest' mum for my son, my daughter's best friend and my husband's Queen. My parents and siblings continue to be my huge sheet anchors as they have always been. What more can one ask for?

Unwilling to let go of this delicate moment of Truth I drift into a well of blissful sleep.

 

 

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