Skip to main content

A constant learner


The last of post of January confessed that I was participating in the #WriteAPageADay campaign of Blogchatter which entailed writing a page every day of Feb. I managed to complete the campaign successfully though there were three days on which I could not write anything for various reasons. Such days are also part of the campaign, thanks to the magnanimity of the Blogchatter team.

I avoided politics as far as possible during the campaign. I wrote posts which were more interesting, in my reckoning, during Feb. But some of my regular readers seem to have abandoned me in Feb. I don’t know the reason. Maybe, many of them were busy with the campaign. Maybe, my ricocheting from one subject to another didn’t amuse some of them. Maybe, it’s time to take stock of the very relevance of traditional blog posts in the world of YouTube and podcasts and others.

As I’m concluding the Write a Page campaign with this post, it is quite natural that some sort of self-assessment struck my meditation today. This contemplation took me back on the memory lane and I found myself as a young man in his late thirties squatting on the carpet inside a prayer hall of a Hindu ashram somewhere in Kasaragod district of Kerala.

I was in Kerala on the usual annual vacation from Shillong where I worked as a college lecturer. The college had made my life miserable. I’m not blaming the college. It’s just that I lacked the qualities required for surviving in the kind of game-field that existed in that college at that time. My own immaturity coupled with my hubris and other vices made life a pain in the posterior of others and in all possible parts of my own being. Thus I decided to go somewhere without any aim hoping to step on the solutions to my problems somewhere. The ashram mentioned above was one such place.

The ashram turned out to be just the opposite of all that I was looking for. Every half an hour or so, somebody will enter the prayer hall and start singing a bhajan. What I wanted was absolute silence. I left the prayer hall and returned to the dorm where I was given a bed in the midst of a lot of holy-looking people with long hair and longer beards. One of them looked into my eyes, as I was packing up my travel bag, and said, “There’s something that’s seriously troubling you. No one can solve it but yourself.”

I carried that counsel in my heart. But there was no sign of any solution anywhere in sight as I sat in a KSRTC bus that took me to the union territory of Mahe. Alcohol was highly affordable in Mahe as it is even today. That was some solution!

It took a few years for me to discover the solution which was to stop carrying my self as a baggage. Let it go. I realized that I was nothing worthwhile. I reached a stage of mind that was just the opposite of the previous one. From a gargantuan ego to a stunning emptiness. That was my journey.

There was something that amused me even in that painful stage of horrifying self-awareness. It was the attitude of my college principal and a few of my colleagues. They were delighted by my utter lack of self-esteem. It was as if they had accomplished the mission that they had set on.

I couldn’t continue in such a place anymore. It’s all good to feel very humble, egoless, empty… It’s good only if you are a really enlightened person. I wasn’t. I had just allowed the circumstances to shatter my ego. Nothing more. That didn’t lead me to the discovery of anything worthwhile within me.

That’s how I left that place.

The new place, Delhi, did give me a chance to discover whatever goodness was there within me. To my surprise, Delhi taught me sooner than I expected that there was indeed much to be loved within me. But I had already internalised the lesson to never let my ego rise above that goodness.

The real humble self-awareness is not seeing you as a worthless person. It is being aware of your worth and to use all those qualities for the welfare of the people around you. Genuine self-awareness is a relationship with fellow human beings.

I live a very happy life now in a village in Kerala. But I know that my relationships are very limited. I stay aloof from most people. It’s not because I don’t want relationships. It’s because I’m afraid that my spiritual journey so far has not accomplished a fraction of what I wanted it to. There’s a long way to go before I can extend my arms in a gesture of welcome to the world. That’s why my profile descriptions have always proclaimed that I am a constant learner.

With my unfailing companion along the way that wasn't always romantic

PS. I’m taking a brief break from blogging for a few days. Feb has been too hectic.

 

Comments

  1. Hari OM
    I shall miss this daily visit!!! Have greatly enjoyed the eclectic mix - you know it is my habit also; in this we match. Enjoy your blog-break and come back strong; there is still place for this traditional communication. The written word can do what the spoken word or the visual cannot - if the minds are open to it. YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Your daily presence here was a great support and I'm highly obliged.

      Delete
  2. Enjoy your break! Return rejuvenated!

    ReplyDelete
  3. You should know you are making thousands of students' school lives worth living !

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's a huge compliment and thanks dear Anu. The students are a changed lot now, thanks to the online classes of Covid days. But I'm still optimistic, some changes have taken place in the classrooms after I wrote this post. For the better.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts

Randeep the melody

Many people in this pic have made their presence in this A2Z series A phone call came from an unknown number the other day. “Is it okay to talk to you now, Sir?” The caller asked. The typical start of a conversation by an influencer. “What’s it about?” My usual response looking forward to something like: “I am so-and-so from such-and-such business firm…” And I would cut the call. But there was a surprise this time. “I am Randeep…” I recognised him instantly. His voice rang like a gentle music in my heart. Randeep was a student from the last class 12 batch of Sawan. One of my favourites. He is unforgettable. Both Maggie and I taught him at Sawan where he was a student from class 4 to 12. Nine years in a residential school create deep bonds between people, even between staff and students. Randeep was an ideal student. Good at everything yet very humble and spontaneous. He was a top sportsman and a prefect with eminent leadership. He had certain peculiar problems with academics. Ans

Queen of Religion

She looked like Queen Victoria in the latter’s youth but with a snow-white head. She was slim, fair and graceful. She always smiled but the smile had no life. Someone on the campus described it as a “plastic smile.” She was charming by physical appearance. Soon all of us on the Sawan school campus would realise how deceptive appearances were. Queen took over the administration of Sawan school on behalf of her religious cult RSSB [Radha Soami Satsang Beas]. A lot was said about RSSB in the previous post. Its godman Gurinder Singh Dhillon is now 70 years old. I don’t know whether age has mellowed his lust for land and wealth. Even at the age of 64, he was embroiled in a financial scam that led to the fall of two colossal business enterprises, Fortis Healthcare and Religare finance. That was just a couple of years after he had succeeded in making Sawan school vanish without a trace from Delhi which he did for the sake of adding the school’s twenty-odd acres of land to his existing hun

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

Sanjay and other loyalists

AI-generated illustration Some people, especially those in politics, behave as if they are too great to have any contact with the ordinary folk. And they can get on with whoever comes to power on top irrespective of their ideologies and principles. Sanjay was one such person. He occupied some high places in Sawan school [see previous posts, especially P and Q ] merely because he knew how to play his cards more dexterously than ordinary politicians. Whoever came as principal, Sanjay would be there in the elite circle. He seemed to hold most people in contempt. His respect was reserved for the gentry. I belonged to the margins of Sawan society, in Sanjay’s assessment. So we hardly talked to each other. Looking back, I find it quite ludicrous to realise that Sanjay and I lived on the same campus 24x7 for a decade and a half without ever talking to each other except for official purposes.      Towards the end of our coexistence, Sawan had become a veritable hell. Power supply to the