THE BOATMAN

The small boat looked as if it was drifting in the indolent current of the river. The sound of the splash of water was serene, divine actually. The shrill and sharp squawking of birds, in search of their morning feed, filled the moist morning air.

The boatman was easily handling the long pole to navigate the boat to the other bank of the river. He made the strenuous work look very easy. He was lightly humming under his breath some local folksong. Unlike the boatman stereotyped by our movies, he was clad in a pair of frayed light blue jeans, a green-and-white striped tee shirt, and a pair of worn out white canvas shoes.

However, it was a completely different story with his face. The week-old stubble, the sunken dark brown eyes, the thin pale lips, in fact the entire countenance exuded an aura of deep suffering, understanding, and serenity. There was a kind of radiance emanating from his presence, radiance associated with untold privation, profound knowledge, and experience of matters concerning life and living.

Seated on a rafter in the middle of the boat, I broached the conversation by means of timeworn topics of weather, rising prices, and politics.

***

On way here, I stopped at the shanty that goes for a tea stall; the tea was sweet but good, though,” I made a beginning.

“Yes, Ramu kaka makes good tea, not the fancy one you city guys drink in restaurants, though. It is sufficient for us down here.” There was an impish smile on the boatman’s face, no malice.

“In fact I heard a lot about you when I travelled in this area during last year’s elections to the state assembly. I work for a news paper.”

The boatman just nodded silently.

“I asked for your whereabouts; nobody could tell, just that you would be available here with your boat from dawn to dusk. Nobody knew where you lived, who you are, or what your name was. They said you just appeared on the scene a few years ago in tatters, physically injured, mentally shattered, hungry, and thirsty. Care to say something about it?” I paused and looked at him seriously and curiously.

Continuing to pole-row the boat, he took a deep breath and spoke.

***

"Where do you want me to start?” He asked.

“You can begin with your name,” I replied.

“What did the villagers tell? How did you address me when you came here?”

“They said they addressed you as ‘boatman’.”

He smiled and said, “So, it is boatman, then.”

“What is your religion? Are you a Hindu, a Muslim, a Christian, or something else? What is your caste? Please tell me something about you.”

“I am a human being. Isn’t that enough? What difference does it make if I was a Hindu, or a Muslim, or a Christian? When will we evolve from the level of always dumping humans in one slot or the other?”

“You are very secretive, aren’t you?”

“Not secretive but a private person, that’s all, and what’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, wouldn’t it?” The impish smile will not go away.

“Okay, have it your way. Go ahead, please,” I conceded.

“Actually, there isn’t much to tell about me. I am an ordinary person; spending my life as a boatman here. The villagers feed me and clothe me. I live in a small abandoned temple couple of kilometres away. The villagers know that but I requested them not to reveal it to any outsiders.”

“Why is that?”

“I like my privacy.”

“Explain in detail.”

“Oh, we are turning combative, aren’t we?” He smiled.

“Sorry, hazards of being a journalist. Please explain.”

“For a journalist, you are very curious about a non-entity like me! I am not newsworthy; I cannot help your newspaper with high TRPs. What is your reason? What have you heard about me? The truth, please.”

“All right, the truth. I know only that the villagers think and speak of you very highly. They think that you are highly educated, knowledgeable, and philosophical with deep understanding of life and living…”

“Like Mr. Sri Sri Ravishankar?” The boatman interrupted.

“Yes.”

“I am not even a patch on him, but go on.”

“You help the villagers and advise them in their problems, small and big. However, you don’t seek publicity of any kind and you are very strict about it. You don’t make any demands on them. You give away the earnings from the boat to the village chief. In turn, they feed you and clothe you. You help their children with their studies. You regularly conduct classes for education of their womenfolk and also help them conduct their micro-businesses from their homes like making papads, pickles, weaving, etc.; lot of activity for a batman who wants to be a non-entity, a recluse, an invisible man!”

“Wow, you did unearth lot of information about me. You must be very good at your job.”

“Come on, boatman don’t divert the discussion…they that you did some miracles, too.”

“Now, that is a myth if I ever heard of one.”

“So, you say that you did not cure that little girl from an unknown, untreated disease?”

“She was very sick. Her parents couldn’t even take her to a hospital. They asked if I could help. I just spoke to the girl, that’s all.”

“You touched her. You placed your palm on her chest…and she was up and about.”

The boatman fell silent.

“Her parents, no, the entire village treats you as God; you are their god-man.”

“Lo and behold, ignorance speaks. I am an ordinary homo sapien that God created me, just as He created you and everyone else.”

“Homo sapien? Shakespeare’s rose? Uncommon expressions for an uneducated boatman!”

The boatman remained silent.

“Okay, boatman I promise. I won’t record our conversation. I won’t take any notes even. I won’t publish anything about our conversation without your permission. Just talk to me. Tell me who and what you are. I want to understand it all. Please.”

***

The boatman spoke softly and slowly.

“I believe you. Actually, it doesn’t matter. I have nothing to hide. I am much older than what I look. I was born in a very poor family and I have no siblings. My father was a farm worker and my mother a homemaker. We lived in a small hamlet in Telangana. We lost our home and every material possession in a cyclonic storm in my childhood and never recovered from that. My father wasted his and our lives by drinking himself to death. My mother followed him two years later leaving me an orphan.”

“I did odd jobs on the farms in our village and gave myself primary education in a street school. Later, the kindly chief of our village sponsored me to higher education in a nearby town and then to college. Struggle became my byword for achieving anything in my life, even the simplest of things. I got sponsorship, scholarship, and part-time jobs and completed my post-graduation; I am a double post-graduate, in English and psychology. I even taught English in a college in a town near my village.

“I married a colleague of mine, who was a widow and had one daughter. We were a happy family until tragedy struck a cruel blow and snatched them from me; they died in a bus accident while travelling to their village. My whole life was shattered. I could not come to terms with that catastrophe. I quit my job, sold our small house, and left. I didn’t have a destination or a purpose. I threw a few clothes in a bag and boarded a train that took me towards an unknown destination. Since then I was travelling non-stop in search of truth, meaning of life and death; searched for answers to why my wife and daughter died. I visited numerous shrines, ashrams of various religions. I read indiscriminately. I debated and discussed matters that troubled me in every religion. Having found no answers to my questions, I completely lost faith in God and religion. I turned a nomad, rescinded all earthly “luxuries”, which are not available to the poor. I restricted my requirement to the bare minimum of food and clothing, just for surviving. My nomadic life took me across our country, through an incredible experience of a wide range of cultures, languages, and religions, mainly people. That helped me understand the insignificance of my tragedy in comparison to the tragedies I saw others suffer. It was a revelation, which turned my thinking on its head. I found myself changing! I started to look at my life and life, in general, from a different perspective.

“Around that time, when I was going through a paradigm transformation in my life, I reached this village. While I was having tea, I heard villagers talking about the ill health of the child you mentioned earlier. I asked for details and went to her house. Her parents were wailing and grief-stricken. I entered the little hut and sat beside the girl. I don’t know what happened but I felt a surge of energy through every cell of my body. Nothing but the little girl was visible to me. I didn’t know if she was already dead; I couldn’t say. The din of some mysterious raw energy, if there could be one, was reverberating in my ears. I was overcome by extreme emotion and placed my palm on her emaciated chest. At first, I didn’t hear anything; I couldn’t hear anything. After a few seconds, I could hear her heartbeat, a faint and irregular lub dub, lub dub. A couple of minutes later her heartbeat was normal and regular.”

The boatman paused. I could not assimilate the profoundness of either the narrated incident or the following silence. It was nothing short of a miracle. I broke the silence.

“How do you explain it, account for it, boatman? It is incredible!”

“Isn’t it?” He said simply.

“Please continue,” I beseeched.

“That incident, that experience was ethereal. It shook the core of my existence, really. Somehow, it made me think, nay, realise that my nomadic lifestyle had reached its destination and I had reached my destiny. It dawned on me that the truth, which I was unsuccessfully searching for all those years, was staring at me. I just had to reach for it.”

“The truth liberated me from myself and my narrow-minded thinking. My search ended then and there. The parents and the villagers were ecstatic and begged me to stay there. I agreed. I never looked back.”

“What do you perceive as the truth?”

“Is there one truth; could there be? What do you think?”

“How so?”

“What we see as truth is often our perception of things. A simple thing like a glass half filled with water itself gives rise to multiple truths, half-full and half-empty. When you see a man and woman from a distance talking to each other, you immediately assume that they are boyfriend and girlfriend. You may not say so loudly but never does it occur to you that they could be brother and sister, for example, or just friends or colleagues, so much for the truth. You must be experiencing this phenomenon in your own profession, on a daily basis.”

Chastised, I asked, “So, what next, boatman?”

“For me or for you?” He smiled.

“Both.”

“For me, I just told you that I arrived at my destination; I found my destiny. I help people reach their destination, the opposite bank.”

“This…this village, this work is your destiny?” I was surprised.

“Why not? Not everyone could think of becoming the Prime Minister or a super star or Sri Sri Ravi Shankar; everyone has one’s own destiny and destination. One must pursue it and find it. For you, I suggest embark upon your own journey, while you are busy with your profession.”

“How will I know if I have arrived?”

“You will know and when know, it will dawn on you that you have arrived at your destination, your destiny, your truth.”

“And then?”

“It is up to you.”

I stared at his smiling countenance.

“We have reached your destination,” he said.

I thanked him, got into the water, and walked away towards my own destination, while he stored away the pole, jumped into the water, and moored the boat to a mooring post.

After walking a short distance, I turned around to see the boatman.

He was nowhere to be seen.

***

 

THERE IS SOMETHING IN YOU

There is something in you!

That the sun is shining bright

The planets are in orbits right

End of universe not in sight.

 

There is something in you!

That rose struggles to smell sweet

All lads in confusion complete

Charm in Nature won’t deplete

 

There is something in you!

That, on breeze, folk music is sailing

Vanquished belles are wailing

And I am always smiling

 

There is something in you!

That makes my breathing hard

Flowers blossom in my yard

And turns me into a bard.

 

There is something in you!

That makes the birds chirp

The deer falters in her step

And I long for you at my doorstep

 

There is something in you!

That, for yesterday, I care not

For distant ’morrow, I look not

And, the precious now, I lose not.

FORGIVENESS II (Forgiving yourself)

FOR GIVING YOURSELF

In my previous blog post on the subject of “Forgiveness” I put forth some of my thoughts. However, I have discussed only the part of “forgiving others” in detail. There is a more complicated aspect of forgiveness, “forgiving yourself”.

Let us resume the journey.

***

Why do you have to forgive yourself? What necessitates it? What is the modus operandi? How do you go about forgiving yourself?

All are pertinent questions. All are important questions.

Imagine a situation where the offender is you. You hurt or harmed someone previously. Imagine that the harm is irremediable for some reason such as, say, the victim is deceased, maybe as a direct or indirect consequence of the harm you inflicted. Alternatively, the harm affected the victim in such a way that he/she cannot be compensated for; the time is up, as they say. Even though you have realised the fact that you had harmed someone, you and the victim are in no position to give and receive even an apology, leave alone compensation.

An impossible situation, isn’t it?

Even after you realised that you have inflicted harm on someone, you cannot seek his/her forgiveness for reasons enumerated above. That you want to seek forgiveness indicates your realisation and remorse for what you did. Law may not have punished you sufficiently. You cannot even seek forgiveness of the victim(s) or the others affected.

So, what happens next?

Sensitivity begins its work. It starts to eat you away from within. There can be no punishment crueler than that. The result is depression, insomnia, loss of appetite, and even suicidal tendency. The sense of guilt just will not go away, no matter what you do. This affects not only you but also your family and near and dear, too.

Forgiveness given by the victim is the most visible, acceptable, easiest, and potent process for you to seek a closure to the entire incident. It is because you need the forgiveness of someone else, especially the victim. It is more than a mere symbolic gesture; often, it is more important than the one offered by religion. The victim, overcoming the irreplaceable loss suffered, tries and understands the circumstances and the futility of the poison of vengeance. It is that forgiveness, which gives you a sense of closure to what you perpetrated previously.

In the absence of such forgiveness, what must a repentant offender do?

Would suicide be the lasting and ultimate solution for all parties concerned? Would the mental and physical suffering of the offender be the answer that provides a closure to the entire matter?

None of these.

The only solution to this is forgiving oneself, however insensitive it may seem.

Consider the following undeniable facts:

The hurt or harm cannot be undone.

The loss or damage cannot be remedied or replaced.

Realisation and acceptance of your guilt is not the end-all to the issue.

So, what do you or anyone do?

Live in eternal depression and mental agony? To what purpose?

The perpetrator must return to the society as a responsible human, feeling remorse for his offence. The only way to achieve this is forgiving oneself and moving on.

***

How do you forgive yourself? Is there a set procedure in the law books or scriptures? Should it be done publicly?

No. You have to devise one for yourself. It can be through an open religious ritual or privately within you.

I personally feel that it is proper and must to be done silently within you. You can work out a plan and execute it within you. A simple “I forgive myself” can be effective. Alternatively, an elaborate mental ritual can be followed wherein you recapitulate your offence, its fallout, its consequences, and your regret and remorse. Then, by means of your own words, you can forgive yourself.

Just remember, there are no set rules or a predetermined or recommended pattern to this crucial aspect of your life so that you can move on.

That brings us to some important facts and factors of life.

Let us look at them.

***

Why should you be able to forgive yourself? What does the act of forgiving yourself require as basics? What are the metaphysical aspects involved?

On the whys and whats, we have already said a lot in the foregoing paragraphs. What about life, existence, and realities in general?

Whether yours was a minor offence or a major, life-altering, life-shattering one, you require compassion, and understanding as the core of your character. Without this foundation, you will continue to be miserable in that black hole, which will suck up everyone around you eventually.

I reproduce below some important extracts I gleaned on some related websites on the Internet in the fervent hope that they guide you through your difficult situation.

“Forgiving yourself gives you peace. You stop being a captive to any resentment or grudges you may have and start focusing on other things that are important. You can let go and show you are willing to embrace freedom. There is no partial letting go, you have to let go completely so you can completely embrace peace.”

***

“Why is it hard to forgive yourself?

Sometimes it's because we need the forgiveness of someone else. Some relationships are deeply intertwined with the understanding of our self. It can be friends, partners, family, colleagues or even society. If you think that someone you are dependent upon cannot accept you, you will have a hard time accepting yourself.”

***

“Why forgiving yourself is important?

Self-forgiveness improves our well-being and productivity. They are kind to themselves, which reduces their anxiety and related depression. In comparison, those who are highly critical of themselves are more likely to experience significant negativity, stress and pessimism.”

***

“Be courageous enough to forgive yourself; never forget to be compassionate to yourself.”

***

“The only person we have the right or the power to forgive is ourselves. For everything else, there is the Art of Acceptance.”

***

“Never forget to forgive yourself; always remember to love yourself.”

***

“What does forgiving yourself mean?

It means that you accept the behavior, you accept what has happened, and you are willing to move past it and move on with your life without ruminating over past events that cannot be changed.”

***

“What is true forgiveness?

True forgiveness is freely given as a gift of the love that inspires it. Since the source of true forgiveness is True Love, no one has to earn it. True forgiveness frees the forgiver AND the forgiven. Both are released from the effects of the mistake. True forgiveness is a rational act of self-love.”

***

My wife, may her soul rest in eternal peace, used to say that I thought too much of a given situation, people, relationships, and life at large, when such a Freudian analysis was not required, even remotely. She was right; I do that; that is my nature, being hypersensitive to life.

What would I do if I found myself in a situation where I must forgive myself to move on with my life?

What would I do if I realised that I had intentionally or unintentionally hurt or harmed someone?

Given my nature, expectedly, I would plummet into the dark abyss, the black hole and I would live a miserable life of self-recrimination, self-blame, and self-flagellation. If I could muster up some courage, I may even attempt to enact the I-forgive-myself act. However, the question would remain, “Would I be truly forgiving myself?”

I truly do not know.

***

I WON’T BE SAD ANYMORE

Didn’t give a last kiss

Didn’t say tearful goodbye

Stay with me li’l longer

I won’t be sad anymore

Just picked up and left

Without even looking back

Walk with me li’l longer

I won’t be sad anymore

Your giggle fell silent

And the smile vanished

Laugh with me li’l louder

I won’t be sad anymore

Didn’t live enough with you

And your infectious zest

Enliven me a li’l longer

I won’t be sad anymore

Our nest needed no lamps

Your eyes dispelled the dark

Light my life li’l brighter

I won’t be sad anymore

Sight for sore eyes you were

With your beatific smiles

Sparkle on me a li’l glitter

I won’t be sad anymore

Let’s meet one last time

Where earth meets the sky

Be with me li’l more patient

I won’t be sad anymore

Yearn for your company, as

Spirit is down and will lost

Guide me a li’l longer

I won’t be sad anymore

                                                         …shyam sundar bulusu

MOM, WHERE ARE YOU?

The road is pitch-dark

And the journey long

The sky is naked, stark

Know not where I belong.

Every corner lurks crisis

God’s ways unfathomable

Is this what life is

Dark labyrinth impregnable?

Safe inside your womb

Connected by umbilical cord

Palace it was, not a tomb

You caressed and smiled a nod.

Came out crying and kicking

You suckled and sang a lullaby

Played on your breast rocking

Dozed on bosom, ample and milky.

Knew not life was so tough

Your support, the rock of Gibraltar

From life’s current swift and rough

Stood by my girl and me at the altar.

Years passed swift as moments

Lost my girl to fate’s unkind cuts

Plummeted by life’s cruel currents

Ruing my loss through ifs and buts.

Goal is blurred, path unclear

Engulfed by a dark, black hue

Know not how to swim, how to steer

Can’t cope alone, Mom, where are you?

…By shyam sundar bulusu

FORGIVENESS

The act of forgiving is defined thus in dictionaries.

Forgiveness: n. the act of forgiving; pardon.

Further explanatory descriptions, in general, go thus.

Forgiveness is the release of resentment or anger. Forgiveness does not mean reconciliation. We do not have to return to the same relationship or accept the same harmful behaviour from our offenders.

Forgiveness is for our own growth and happiness. Holding on to hurt, pain, resentment, and anger is harmful to us far more than it is to our offenders.

Forgiveness frees us to live in the present. Our anger, regret, hatred, or resentment towards someone means that we are giving up our power to that person.

Forgiveness is not about letting someone off the hook for their actions but freeing ourselves of the negative energies that bind us to them.

***

Forgiving can be (i) forgiving others or (ii) forgiving oneself. Let me take you along with me through my thought process and address these two aspects one after the other.

***

Forgiving Others

A case for forgiving someone arises only when that someone harmed and/or hurt us in the past. This harm or hurt could be purely physical or it could be mental, emotional.

Physical harm, intentional or otherwise, could be due to a crime or accident against our beloveds or us; if that act results in the loss of the life or lives of our beloveds, the wounds do not heal for the rest of our lives.

On the other hand, emotional harm/hurt is an entirely different thing; it is invisible to the eye as are its effects. Usually, it is the result of a betrayal of our love and trust.

I shall not go into the details of what, why, and how of the harm/hurt and of the betrayal itself but shall take the path of understanding how best we can move on with our lives despite the wound to our inner self because that is the crux of the problem.

***

The betrayal of our love and trust will be an indelible part of our lives; it stays with us for the rest of our lives, whatever the repercussions of that to the victim and perpetrator alike are.

If the betrayal is an accident and is unintentional on the part of the perpetrator and the perpetrator is genuinely remorseful and apologetic, things may be easier for a resolution. However, a resolution depends on the grievousness of the hurt inflicted, the extent of the damage caused to the victim, and the willingness of the victim.

On the other hand, if the betrayal is by design and is intentional there may not be any scope for a resolution. The victim may harbour an implacable umbrage and may even seek retribution; the scars on victim’s heart and mind are for life.

***

Through the foregoing paragraphs I have only tried to lay the general background in front of you; I am sure some of you may not be in total or even partial agreement with me. Still, I shall wade through the heart-numbing consequences that a wrongdoing has on the victim and explore a resolution that must be effected for the sake of the victim’s welfare post-betrayal, post-trauma.

***

Fear, anger, disgust, sadness, rage, loneliness, melancholy, and annoyance are some of the most commonly felt negative emotions. There is no gainsaying that among these anger, loneliness and melancholy are the most dangerous for an individual, as these are self-destructive for the individual.

There is a poem in Telugu, which goes thus.

తన కోపమే తన శత్రువు.

One’s anger is one’s (worst) enemy.

Taking this raw truth forward, let us delve into the twin aspects of anger, melancholy, and loneliness on one side and forgiveness on the other.

***

What happens when one feels betrayed especially when one is in a personal, psychological, and emotional low? This low could be the consequence of a personal loss of, say, a property, a position, etc. or, most seriously, a dear person. The betrayal could be in the form of denial of moral and emotional support. The traumatised victim would be looking to lash out at the offenders, to vent out the anger somehow, anyhow. That is the genesis of one’s problem, the seething anger pushing one to seek vengeance and retribution, to hurt the offenders just as they hurt him/her. If this pent up rage does not find a release through a safety valve it will become all-consuming and will devour the victim from within. It will lead to serious problems of rage, melancholia, and depression.

What are the consequences of such repressed anger? The victim will slide down the slippery slope of a dark abyss housing anger, loneliness, melancholia, and depression, often irretrievably.

Is this what the victim wished for? Certainly not.

All that the victim wished for was vengeance.

Okay, let us assume that the victim has succeeded in wreaking vengeance. What next?

Does it induce a sense of relief from the original grief caused by a loss or from the sense of betrayal? Does it help in getting rid of the anger, the loneliness, the melancholia, or the depression? Does it provide a closure?

You will have to look inside yourself for answers for such questions.

The seething anger caused by the grief, the loneliness, the melancholia, and the depression is like a self-destruct button. Pressing it would only destroy the victim; it does not affect the offender. The victim seethes, seethes, and seethes endlessly and plummets into the dark abyss of depression, which could cause further serious problems for the victim.

So, what is the solution? Solution to what; is it for the original grief, the sense of betrayal, or the consequent anger and depression? Are they all different from one another when you look at the agony the victim is being subjected to?

Let us face some hard facts.

The original loss cannot be undone. If it could be undone, there would not be any problem in the first place at all, would it? So, the loss is irreparable, irreplaceable, and irremediable.

That is fact #1.

The act of betrayal, of trust and love, cannot be undone.

That is fact #2.

The anger born out of the combined effect of the original loss and the sense of betrayal is but natural and justified to a large extent. We are all human, aren’t we?

That is fact #3.

However, seeking and wreaking vengeance and retribution helps none, definitely not the already-traumatised victim. On the contrary, it might create a fresh set of incurable problems for the innocent near and dear of the offender and, by its perpetration, to the victim himself/herself. So, it has not helped the victim at all.

That is fact #4.

To summarise, for whatever reason, cosmic or mundane, the victim is placed in an unenviable position from which there is no reprieve. Anger, depression, and vendetta do not help the victim an iota by way of relief.

That is fact #5.

So, where and how can the victim find a solution, a resolution, a closure for the issue?

For that, one must look inside oneself.

***

I am looking inwards, into my mind, into my heart.

Why did I bring me into this discourse?

You will see.

***

It is over 4½ years since I lost my soul mate. I am shattered and am unable to cope with the loss, even today. The images of the physical suffering she underwent still haunt me no end. I shall not go into the details of it; I do not want to perpetuate or bequeath them to the minds of my near and dear, especially my daughters. Suffice it to say that I had physically seen and mentally suffered every infinitesimal bit of her suffering.

In the aftermath of that catastrophic event, I plummeted into the abyss I described earlier. It was dark, frightening, and depressing day after interminable day. Travelling blindly in that dark tunnel, I yearned and prayed for a ray of hope in the form of a few kind words of solace from relatives, friends, and contacts. Not only were they not forthcoming but it dawned on me that I did not exist for them any longer! It was as though I died along with my soul mate on that fateful day in November 2015. Filled with uncontrollable rage, I drowned deeper and deeper into the dark abyss with no hope of recovery, ever.

I felt betrayed. I was betrayed.

Did the thought of forgetting and/or forgiving occur to me? Yes, since I was aware of the philosophy.

Did I even fleetingly consider forgetting and/or forgiving my offenders? No, I did not. It was too much to expect that magnanimity from me.

I seethed, seethed, and seethed endlessly; the pain of my loss was such; the pain of the betrayal was such.

That I have not gone over the precipice during this traumatic period is due to the few most import people in my life, my two biological daughters and their families, and a few more daughters out there, who were not born out of my wife’s womb. I cannot describe it anymore, for words fail me.

In search of solace, I continued with my passion for writing and published several books (English fiction), and began my journey into the world of painting hues and musical notes. I found it, the panacea for my problem. These activities helped me a very great deal in healing the near-mortal would inflicted by that catastrophe. I recovered significantly, but it was not enough.

Surprisingly, the ultimate solution to my inner devastation emerged as a consequence of a further crisis of mine. I was advised to and I did willingly adopt the ritual of meditation (I call it dhyanam). I am not supposed to share the details of my journey with anyone, even close family members, except my guru. So, I shall spare you my ranting into that topic. Suffice it to say that I have experienced a change in me that surprises me! Even my daughters have observed the salubrious change and they are extremely happy for it, for me, and for themselves.

The pain inside me has eased considerably. I am able to handle it and myself better. I have begun to accept my loss, which I always knew was the cosmic truth.

Does it mean that I do not have or I do not feel the pain any longer? “No, I still do have and still feel the pain.”

Does it mean that I am no longer depressed? “No, I still slip into depression sometimes.”

Does it mean that I am ready to forgive?

Yesterday my answer to the question was, “No.”

Today my answer is, “I do not know.”

If it is to happen, it will happen.

If it happens, it must happen on its own volition, in its own time, and in its own space in the cosmos.

I do not know.

***

It is with a clearer mind that I wrote the foregoing paragraphs.

I realise and I believe that forgiveness is the only panacea that will offer me a semblance of solace.

Will I be able to forgive? Will I forgive?

I do not know.

***

CERAMIC DREAMS

Sitting in front of the door

Waiting for it to open

And let you waltz in.

I know, my love

The door will never open

You will never again waltz in.

My ceramic dream it is

Destined to shatter and it did

Still, with tear-blurred eyes

I keep watching the door

I know will never open.