The Ocean in Each of Us

"Our life, it probably began inside of the ocean. About four thousand million years before now. Probably near hot places, like volcanoes, under the sea. And for almost all of that long time, all the living beings were water things, living inside the sea. Then, a few hundred million years ago, maybe a little more - just a little while, really, in the big history of the Earth - the living beings began living on the land, as well.

But in a way you can say that after leaving the sea, after all those millions of years of living inside the sea, we took the ocean with us. When a woman makes a baby, she gives it water, inside her body, to grow in. The water in her body is almost exactly the same as the water of the sea. It is salty, by just the same amount. She makes a little ocean, in her body. And not only this. Our blood and our sweating, they are both salty, almost exactly like the water from the sea is salty.

We carry oceans inside of us, in our blood and in our sweat. And we are crying the ocean, in our tears."

Gregory David Roberts, Shantaram

Read this bit in this book I'm reading now - Shantaram.

Spawned a sea of thoughts... The inexorable pull of the sea when one stands on the shore long enough… the sheer wildness of the beauty of the sea… the comfort of the waves enveloping you when you goes far enough out to sea for the waves to overpower and throw you off-balance… of course till the panic button for survival is pressed and you rapidly get back to shore…

I had read somewhere that the ‘samudra manthanam’ of Hindu mythology is really symbolic of us churning the vast oceanic depths of knowledge that is present within the self… taking help from both the good forces (Devas) within us and the evil forces (Asuras)… using the mountain (Mandara) of self will tied up by the serpent (Vasuki) of cooperation and conflict…

Various items kept coming out of the depths – prominent among them being the deadly poison (Halahala) symbolic of the fear of death (this was consumed by Shiva the God of destruction in the myth)… and finally the nectar of immortality (Amrit) – the non-fear of death so to say.

However, that’s not the end – the good forces and evil forces have equal rights to it since as the self gains from the churning, so does good and evil (the self being bipolar always). It requires Vishnu (the Absolute) to protect the self by denying the evil forces the nectar… (In the myth the Devas and Asuras fight over the Amrit and Vishnu comes in as Mohini to deny the Asuras and give the Amrit to the Devas)

The symbolism hit me… Left me in the throes of introspection… Have I churned myself enough... Have I not been lax with myself? Just a wee bit?

Guess many before me would have been hit by this… And many after me...

The Old man and the 'If Only'

Met an old man today. I knew him, had seen him earlier. But I MET him only today...

A man who devoted his life to his children. He was from a small village in Kerala. As was usual with young men of that generation in Kerala, he had to leave and search for employment elsewhere. He chose Calcutta - a room, a mess for food, a job as a secretary in a typewriter company, no interest in books, no music, and himself... He was the quintessential Haripada of the old Anjan Dutt Bangla song...

In due course he brought his nephew, his nephew's friend and a few other youngsters from his village to Calcutta and ensured they had shelter till they found jobs and enrolled in college...His need then came to obviate loneliness... Marriage followed - to a teacher. The wife stayed in Kerala with her job... Remember this was the age of no telephones, no email and only snail mail... And 3 days to travel by train one way. Life as before, with a one month holiday for him in Kerala with wife and a one month holiday for the wife in Calcutta. Kids followed - 2 boys, both stayed and studied in kerala. The man continued in his Haripada way. Then the wife died. The kids stayed in Kerala - both between 5 and 7 years. With the man's sister.

On a trip when he came down, he was saddened by the state of the kids. He took them to Calcutta with him. Became difficult managing... He married again. A lady from Kerala who probably wouldn't get married given her circumstance... With an agreement that she wouldn't want kids beyond the 2 sons. A life devoted to the sons. Huge performance pressure on them.

One became a doctor and one a chartered accountant. But he wanted more. He wanted them to go to the Mecca of the middle class then - the USA. Both went - one to the US and one to canada. By then they were married - to girls from very rich families. The sons drew apart from the parents- the social standing was very different. The grandchildren are americans - no relationship with the grandparents. The old man felt his responsibilities were over and came back... Back to his village in Kerala. Built a house with great effort and love. He finished when he was 76. What more could a man want, he must have thought... Successful kids, retired, back home, house built... The perfect ending to the well-worked hardly-lived life. A self made man. Realisation of the typical middle class dream...A few trips to the US and Canada...

Disenchantment... Back to the village... Issues with the wife who was blaming him for not having kids, and concern over her future. Now death staring at him in the face. Due to age, not illness. No children. A wife who blames him for her fate. No diversions like a reading habit etc to divert his mind from self deprecation... Yearning to turn back time... Bitterness... Guilt... Anger... Fear... Ambiguity... Loneliness... Is this the end?

The 'if only' phase of life characterised by "If only I had..." or "if only they had..." Or "if only fate had..." Or "if only I could turn time back" or "if only..."