Of Contrasts

Contrasts have always fascinated me. Blush-colored hibiscus flowers against dark green leaves, white wrought iron benches against sepia-hued rocks, or the radiant purple of a young jamun fruit against the backdrop of my wheatish, criss-crossed palm.  However, these were not the only contrasts that I witnessed in Shanti Bhavan today. 

As the children gathered for the assembly and extolled the virtues of truthfulness, honesty and friendliness, I suddenly realized that I used to be one of them years ago. It is not our age or our living conditions that make us very different, but it is the fact that I no longer share their easy faith. There is a stark contrast between the younger “me” and today’s “me”. Somewhere down the lane, I have learnt that truthfulness and honesty are mere embellishments in our moral science books. In the real world, they do nothing but handicap you.

I slowly learned the wonderful art of give and take. Accompany your friend to a place who might not really want to go so that she accompanies you when you have to go out.  Simper and smirk, and pay compliments to your professors/ bosses so that they remember you at the time of appraisal. Leave behind the book and engage in mindless chatting so that you are not considered “uncool”.  Use forks and knives to eat chicken even though you are comfortable eating with your hands, so that you are not found lacking in table manners. You lie, you hide and you become dishonest to yourself.

And then friends leave, bosses disappoint and the belief in all things good takes a beating. With adulterated faith and cynical eyes, we turn into people we really do not want to be. Slowly, the darkness of failures and unmet expectations permeate the lights of our hearts. We let ourselves be led my others’ reactions to us. We stop trusting, we stay guarded and we learn that in this “smart” world, this is the way to be.

But as I sat before the children today and caught glimpses of that untainted childhood again, something stirred deep within my heart. What if I unlearn my lessons and become one of them again? What if I become a worldly fool and let not my enthusiasm be marred by external events? I might fall into the same traps again, but what if I do not let that deter me?

At least, when I see children cocooned in their innocence again, I will not feel envious. Somewhere, in this mad-mad world, I will have a small corner in my heart where I can be myself.