Musings -1

 

My mind is in a constant state of flux. It never is still. I can always feel its continuous movement, I can never be free. Sometime back I thought may be these are the first signs I might go crazy, but now I have learned to live with them. Then again, I thought these thought processes of mine could be, yes 'COULD BE’ channelized into something inspirational, something good but the inadvertent interruptions in my life in the form of my workplace duties, or my household demands makes my thoughts go awry and before I could drop in that ‘high order thinking’ into a box I am lost.

I don’t write; I like to read. I heard most people like to read; I am not sure. So, I say I heard. When I was a young girl in my 20s, my mother and I spent endless evenings just talking. Just as I like to talk, I like to listen to people. Life experiences interest me. I don’t like gossiping about people or check on what somebody had for breakfast, lunch or dinner but if that one particular dish had a special spice which your grandmother liked and would make, I would hear about it. Much later in life I realized I was an observer. I can spend hours staring at things, thinking. I remember how I would look at the distant mountains from our 4^th floor apartment in Imphal and emotions would overload me. I would start crying for reasons unknown. As a student of literature, I learned these were my ‘spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings’. Had it not been for Wordsworth I would have never had an expression for such a feeling.

I regret not learning my mother tongue properly. We grew up in a different State, and learned a different language as our vernacular. Later, I took upon myself the arduous task of learning the language in which I dreamt. I think it is important to know how to read, write and speak one’s mother tongue. It is important that one should at least read the literature written in one’s language. I regret being a slow reader. My husband loves to read too. I would ask him to read. When my daughter was a child, he would read the vernacular classics and we would all take the pleasure of that story telling. I am reminded of the Grandmother’s Tales – our ‘thakurmar jhulis’ – a granny with a bag full of stories. In our vacations we would read Panchatantra, Jataka Tales, Anandomela, Chandamama , Tinkle comics, Mandrake, Phantom, as much as we read Wisdom, Tales from the Bible, Amar Chitra Katha, Aesop’s Fables, Tales from the Arabian Nights etc. We enjoyed our vacations playing, reading and resting. Now children plan online games and plan outings with their friends.

As individuals, not all of us can say what we want to say but sometimes it is important to let people know what you think, for those who actually matter. I loved my mother and I still do. I was harsh to her when I could not convince her that the world was not as simple as she thinks it is, that your closest ones can be chameleons in disguise and most often than not people shed crocodile tears. But when she suddenly felt sick , something in my heart told me my mother’s days were numbered, and finally I told my mother…Maa, you are the best mother in the world…you did everything for us, no one could have raised us better.” I still don’t know why those words came to me, I saw my mother happy, smiling.I did not speak to her again. My mother left us.

Today I live with her teachings. She lives through me. I would do nothing that would disrespect her upbringing. My respect for her has doubled boundlessly. She would tell me ‘Don’t stress yourself about things beyond your control. When you cant do anything, just don’t think about it. Just let things flow.” This day, when my voice chokes in my throat, as I remember my mothers sweet face , I stop thinking. That calms me.

Of late, I realized I am not advancing towards dementia, alzheimers or some other age related mental problem(I rather use ‘ mind-related, mental is a big word), I just have a thinking brain and to keep it engaged I need to do constructive things. For instance ‘Read’.