Cheeniya was wondering the other day (on way to Dakshina Chitra on ECR) why stray dogs have a habit of aimlessly crossing traffic infested streets at their own peril. Quite apart from running the risk of being sent free of charge to heaven (or wherever canines land up after discharging their worldly responsibilities) by speeding automobiles, they leave the automobile owners in a state of distress.
Irrespective, of course, of their food habits. I mean, even non-vegetarians dont particularly enjoy the prospect of perambulating across the earth stricken by a dog killers conscience. Indeed, why dogs alone, I am yet to come across a non-vegetarian who actually enjoys the sight of an animal he is about to consume being actually slaughtered. May be Kamal knows better, but I doubt. In fact, I am one of those hypocrites myself who would look away with horror from the scene of the killing, while waiting impatiently for a succulent kebab or two to be served in graceful disgrace. But then, whats the way out? Contradictions, like varieties, probably form the spice of life as well.
Aimless, aint I? Well, what else do you expect? Those aimless dogs are the only sort of creatures Ive ever been able to aim at. Cheeniya told me that he had once pontificated on the subject in his ramblers corner. I am yet to read his views and will do so perhaps one of these days. Perhaps I say, for I am aware that my own mind too is afflicted by a dog like peripatetic propensity. As I had observed in this forum once, there was a time when I believed that a street jugglers profession fitted me like a glove. And look at whats happened to me. I ended up in the street alright, not as a juggler, but as a traveller through life. A struggling traveller at that. Struggling to discover himself. As the bard would have said:
I am not sure therefore when I gave up pursuing jugglers and began to believe that God had some other inscrutable design in his mind as he was busy imparting a shape to me on his potters wheel. This God chap is a bit of an enigma himself, comparable to the aimless dog that bothers Cheeniya so.
If this last sentence gave you a shock of some kind, do remind yourself that unlike Christianity, Hinduism does not begin with a questionable sentence like God created man in his own image. For us Hindus, God lives everywhere, not to speak of the dog, as Jerome K. Jerome loving Uttara will undoubtedly point out. And God lives here too, doesnt he?
Well, as I was saying, God was sitting at his potters wheel making the me to be or, more likely, the me not to be rotate at supersonic speed, when he suddenly found interest in something else. Poor me, spinning away half created, and God shifting his enigmatic interest to some other subject. Perhaps it was Greta Garbo who began to inspire his creative zeal all of a sudden, or Quasimodo may be. He completed both tasks with infinite patience, forgetting all about me as I waited in whispering humbleness.
The Almighty though loved Greta Garbo and Quasimodo so much that the humility of the me yet to be went totally unnoticed. And that explains why the "what's happened to me" referred to above actually happened! I ended up as a creature who aspired to be Greta Garbo, but found Quasimodo staring back at him from the mirror instead. I feel like Greta Garbo, but look alas like Quasimodo!!
And this perhaps is why my mind began behaving like the aimless dog that defies even Cheeniyas equanimity.
Yes, at that same mind's own peril too.
Irrespective, of course, of their food habits. I mean, even non-vegetarians dont particularly enjoy the prospect of perambulating across the earth stricken by a dog killers conscience. Indeed, why dogs alone, I am yet to come across a non-vegetarian who actually enjoys the sight of an animal he is about to consume being actually slaughtered. May be Kamal knows better, but I doubt. In fact, I am one of those hypocrites myself who would look away with horror from the scene of the killing, while waiting impatiently for a succulent kebab or two to be served in graceful disgrace. But then, whats the way out? Contradictions, like varieties, probably form the spice of life as well.
Aimless, aint I? Well, what else do you expect? Those aimless dogs are the only sort of creatures Ive ever been able to aim at. Cheeniya told me that he had once pontificated on the subject in his ramblers corner. I am yet to read his views and will do so perhaps one of these days. Perhaps I say, for I am aware that my own mind too is afflicted by a dog like peripatetic propensity. As I had observed in this forum once, there was a time when I believed that a street jugglers profession fitted me like a glove. And look at whats happened to me. I ended up in the street alright, not as a juggler, but as a traveller through life. A struggling traveller at that. Struggling to discover himself. As the bard would have said:
And I,--like one lost in a thorny wood,
That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
Seeking a way and straying from the way;
Not knowing how to find the open air,
But toiling desperately to find it out,--
That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
Seeking a way and straying from the way;
Not knowing how to find the open air,
But toiling desperately to find it out,--
I am not sure therefore when I gave up pursuing jugglers and began to believe that God had some other inscrutable design in his mind as he was busy imparting a shape to me on his potters wheel. This God chap is a bit of an enigma himself, comparable to the aimless dog that bothers Cheeniya so.
If this last sentence gave you a shock of some kind, do remind yourself that unlike Christianity, Hinduism does not begin with a questionable sentence like God created man in his own image. For us Hindus, God lives everywhere, not to speak of the dog, as Jerome K. Jerome loving Uttara will undoubtedly point out. And God lives here too, doesnt he?
Well, as I was saying, God was sitting at his potters wheel making the me to be or, more likely, the me not to be rotate at supersonic speed, when he suddenly found interest in something else. Poor me, spinning away half created, and God shifting his enigmatic interest to some other subject. Perhaps it was Greta Garbo who began to inspire his creative zeal all of a sudden, or Quasimodo may be. He completed both tasks with infinite patience, forgetting all about me as I waited in whispering humbleness.
The Almighty though loved Greta Garbo and Quasimodo so much that the humility of the me yet to be went totally unnoticed. And that explains why the "what's happened to me" referred to above actually happened! I ended up as a creature who aspired to be Greta Garbo, but found Quasimodo staring back at him from the mirror instead. I feel like Greta Garbo, but look alas like Quasimodo!!
And this perhaps is why my mind began behaving like the aimless dog that defies even Cheeniyas equanimity.
Yes, at that same mind's own peril too.