Apollonian & Dionysian #Day 26

Homes have uncommon aesthetic power and reflect the material and spiritual splendor of people who inhabit it. Few homes that I have seen reflect riot of creative and visually captivating designs and are surprisingly beautiful. However say very little about people who live in those enclosed space. “Classic question of convenience vs time. You cannot have both.” Priya’s response for those who fit aptly in favor of this logic. Irrespective, I belong to the school which proposes that the design ensemble, of bits and part of self and the experiences, creates rhythm.

Apollo and Dionysus are both sons of Zeus. Apollo is the God of sun, of rational thinking and order, and appeals to logic, prudence and purity. (Shamelessly quoted from Wikipedia). Dionysus is the God of wine and dance, of irrationality and chaos, and appeals to emotions and instincts. Although contrasting in nature, the Greeks never considered the two Gods to be opposites or rivals. The two reflect the duality of life, a harmonious form cannot be without chaotic artistic sensibility. A captivating home is never divorced from interestingly layered chaos. Or maybe inspires it.

Very few close friends have been honest enough to provide a stellate outline of my appearance. None of the accolades have anything memorable that I can boast about. Understandably, I have 3 pairs of jeans with the latest 5 months old, my t-shirts 4-5 months old (Priya has gifted most of them). Also all wedding occasion that I have attended have my photograph in the same suit (dark grey & shiny maroon shirt). I don’t give up on my clothes easily or get bored with them, unless in dire circumstances they get torn. So, what is common to my inordinate appearance and the place that I inhabit? None of the shine, glitz, or the art in my contribution. I’m Apollo from every perspective. Also because the Dionysian, king of good times, is my wife Priya’s forte.

Priya’s passion for design and art reflect in her sensibilities and appearance, quite contrary to that of mine. She is like a teacher, who knows where to put the comma so that the words display true meaning. At the same time, she is like a CEO, who has a participative approach towards management. Put the options on the table, before making the choice. Each choice is carefully evaluated, screened and dismissed for lack of purpose. Many treasures in this world won’t be able to allure her, each choice has to have a reason and a motive for it’s existence. Getting to talk about the house had all the makings of a thriller.

From the start I was never in favor of giving our house to an interior designer; I’m quite stingy that ways. I figured out, the fee could easy fetch me an article more material and real. My hard earned money, why should I gamble with it? Priya had a different line of thinking. She wanted a part of us in the house where we live, our child to see where we came from and what we believed in. She wanted it to be an extension of us. Easier said than done. My only demand was it should be easy on pocket. We don’t make rushed and immature decisions and end up regretting, as if there were less things to fight about in our daily lives. So, I wanted less things in the house and things which could be multi-tasked, and therefore more return on our investment.

A compromise, and the result was quite spectacular.

For 6 months after moving into the house, there was nothing in the house, except for our bar. I loved the spartan look, dazzling marble flooring, nothingness created the vast empty space, the lightly colored walls amplified it further. We would get ample sun light in the house and it lit every corner of our living room. Dhriti, our daughter loved it, she had recently started walking and for her, it was a playground. As pieces came together bit by bit, each corner and furniture, our home looked more complete. In the 6 months roughly, we saw through our new home as a little child, being very careful about each and every element it imbibed, and watched it grow.

It was beautiful. And I never had a sweat over the spends.

There is a certain reluctance in appreciating “wildness” as it being opposed to the “orderly” nature, that we are, or at least I am, more likely used to. The Apollonian is the basis of all analytic rationale. Everything that is part of the unique individuality of man or thing is Apollonian in character;  Rational thought is also Apollonian since it is structured and makes distinctions. And is that complete? Charles Lindberg, who made the first non stop flight from New York to Paris quotes and reflects an aspect of truth…

If we combine our knowledge of science with the wisdom of wildness, if we can nurture the civilization, through roots in the primitive, man’s potentialities appear to be unbounded…, he can merge with the miraculous – to which we can attach what better name than ‘God’? And in this merging, as long sense by intuition, but still only vaguely perceived by rationality, experience may travel even without the need to accompany life.    

Such is the conflict between Apollo and Dionysus. The motive for “intuition” in our lives is not discerned readily, “chaos” cannot be good and “wildness” not a a part of natural order. In this duality, there is a compromise, a balance that I’m happy to live for, while still searching its meaning.

Maybe the most irrational thoughts are the most sanest ones.

 

Farmer #Day 24

All fathers will find their child’s notions often well expressed, and very interesting. The conversations are overwhelmed by specificity, mindful carelessness and genuine curiosity. These moments will come unannounced, for a brief flash of time. All you know that you are in it. Now. These questions are many and trivial. I would have ignored them because it never made sense to me. Yet, for these little ones it is a matter of great awe. I’m also amazed at the observation skills, and after listening to the questions, I would wonder why didn’t I think of it before or Hmm, this is also possible. The common element across all such questions is honesty of ignorance and determination to know the why.

When Dhriti was 5 years old, in her school, she was taught about professions. Her school, Shree Ram stressed on values and included many from real life. I didn’t know about this till Priya pointed out an observation. It was a honest answer and noble purpose.

Dhriti, what do you want to become when you are older?

I want to become a farmer.

Why?

So that I can grow trees and make oxygen.

Dhriti is 8 years this year and has still maintained her ambition of becoming a farmer, though this time she also said that she wants to become a Rockstar at night.

There are only two professions, a man is either a hunter or a farmer. Yuval Noah Hariri’s book, Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, marks the agricultural revolution, which started in about 10,000 b.c. as one of the milestones in our evolution. Increasing number converted from foraging (hunting and gathering) to farming. Harari writes, “Before this, they (humans) were insignificant animals with no more impact on the environment that gorillas, fireflies, or jellyfish.” Now we had more time to think and plan because now food such as grains could be stored. Therefore, everyday hunting for survival was not required. Humans became more interested in studying all the patterns responsible in detail to become better such as, knowledge about soil, seasons and water, so that output could be similar or better. We became more settled, protecting the land and our produce. However, according to Harari, the agricultural revolution did more damage, “A faustian bargain between humans and grains” in which our species “cast off its intimate symbiosis with nature and sprinted towards greed and alienation”. It was a bad bargain: “the agricultural revolution was history’s biggest fraud”. A bit sensational, but it would do. I could finish Sapiens in 10 days, because it was very entertaining and well expressed.

Not just Dhriti’s answers, but also Yuval Noah Harari, poses fundamental questions about happiness for us as a race. Were we happier being farmers or as hunter gatherers chasing the game and feeling accomplished for the day? Or it is our quest to seek beyond the unknown, such as fathom death. Some of these questions will encourage you to think more about us and our future.

While I pondered over these questions about farmers and existential questions on happiness, few events hinted at harsh truth. A boy approached my car, while I was waiting at the red light. He was carrying books, including Sapiens. The boy was not tall, about 3.5 feet in height. Thin structure, determined to sell, sharp eyes. His prominent jawline defined his face. My book of choice “Elon Musk” was wrapped in plastic and would cost only Rs.350. I negotiated and the deal was struck for Rs. 160. “What if pages are missing?” Priya asked him as he delivered the book. Proudly, the boy took the plastic cover off and said very confidently, “I would replace the book if any pages are missing”.

I probably bought the book, not because of the title, but because of the boy and his accent. I was also intrigued to find a small boy selling books, which I’m sure he couldn’t read. The boy looked very young and from my home state in India, Bihar.

Because of the long queue, I was not able to get through the red light and met the boy again. This time he came to check if we found any pages missing. Instead, he had to face Priya’s questions, ranging from where he came from to whether he studied or not.

The boy was not amused with the questions. He came from a village near Patna, the capital of Bihar and had ran away from home. He didn’t like staying in his village because they were poor. He came to Delhi to earn money. He also said that there were many people who offered him opportunity to study, but he has no inclination. He only wants to earn to make a good living.

No matter how much we debate about the sensation aspect of Sapiens, the reality is different. When I look around Gurgaon, place I used to live, I can see only tall building. Farmers are selling land, because their crop doesn’t earn them enough to sustain. Farms could be found in patches, more likely it would be because of short term interest than for actual reasons.

Trading land for cash isn’t a bad bargain. If it helps you survive.

“Mr. Cooper, we need more farmers today than Doctors or Engineers.” (From Interstellar)

Connectedness #Day 23

It was my last day in Mumbai, as a person seeking admission to a college. My dear father had gone back after the formalities were done. Big city, much bigger than I was used to. That day I roamed alone, a day alone with the city, where I would spend the next 6 years of my life. I decided to take a double decker, and got on to my favorite seat, the front row. I could see everything on the road, as a driver would. I could see the sea and Haji Ali on one side and skyscraper and traffic jam on the other. I would be lost, the city is too big, I thought. I felt like a dot on the planet, while the horns blew in the background, red lights flashed in front of me and BEST bus revved in heat. I felt lonely. The bus conductor asked me for the tickets. And he also told me the stop that I would need to get down. He tried to explain me in as much as he could in his Marathi accent.

I was on my way to catch the train from Dadar central station, exactly two days after my father had left. He had an important business to attend to. He filled me up with every essential. I was a grown up man, enough to travel alone. And yet, I felt small, the city seemed too big. My only luggage was a small bag, which I was holding close to me, to mitigate any mishap. I had also put my wallet on my front pocket, which otherwise I would use my hip pockets. Bombay is very crowded, you should be careful about the pickpockets, I was told, you would never know when your wallet disappears especially when you are in a crowd. The eventuality of losing my wallet was scary. How would I reach back home, better keep close attention on my items. I was very careful. The man in front of me kept reading the newspaper and the one standing next to me, kept looking at me. I offered him my seat when my stop came, he smiled and nodded in approval when his patience paid off.

I was on Dadar station, it was evening, didn’t know what time it was. I had a bag and wallet in my front pocket. I had to cross over to the other side to get to the train and as a matter of fact, I looked down. Not an inch of space on the platform. I could only see people everywhere. It was the evening time when every one is rushing back home. Like a ant colony, I felt small again. Probably, I won’t survive. In the midst of this chaos, there was a sudden realization that I needed to get to the train; I could afford to miss it. I wanted to get away from Mumbai, as fast I could. While I was walking, I asked a person who was walking by about time. “It is 6.30.”, he didn’t look at me and walked on. He was in hurry, to catch his local train, but had heard me. He helped me as much as he could in the time he had. I remember he also said, “Get off the last platform to get to Dadar Central.” I didn’t ask for his last piece of his advice, but I guess he saw my luggage. He walked on and didn’t look back or expected anything in return. I never met him again and he left memories that made me fond about the city & people.

My first few recollections of Mumbai were of concern, full of anxiety and sense of loneliness. And it took just about few days to settle in. The people, the food, the language, exuded warmth. I found spirit of people inimitable, it was grand and connected to each Mumbaikar. The culture and love is extended to strangers and the new. I miss Mumbai, so much so that when I went back to Delhi, the place I have spent longest time, I felt shallow. I couldn’t identify with people, I took me 3 years to feel at home in my  home city. We seemed to be running all the time in Delhi.

We were a group of 9 people in a yoga session and none of us know each other. My first exercise was to approach every single person in the group and tell him, I belong to you. Didn’t make sense to me at all. We did this every day of our course. Sincerely, even by the last day, I wasn’t able to truly say, I belong to you. We would leave after a week and none of us would connect again. We do belong to each other, even if it is for a fleeting microsecond. But it may take many years for us to realize it. I haven’t realized it yet.

And it is difficult, and takes courage to say, I belong to you, and stand by it. It doesn’t come naturally, as it comes for our siblings, parents or children. These boundaries, in our minds, are created by us and difficult to break. Irrespective, connectedness is one of the strongest virtues, that empower us and give us hope and strength. For the sake of simplicity we would just let it be. If it doesn’t affect me directly, it is none of my business.

Kids understand it the best. They have amazing 6th sense to know who is genuine and feel connected to them. First few interaction with a new person would tell you how genuine you feel with each other. There is an invisible bond amongst all of us, essential like air; we will feel suffocated if there isn’t any.

And it is all so powerful. Connected people make good families, teams, society and nation. Where each one respects the existence of the other, where there is a dignity of life in every individual, where there is strong connectedness.

Do you feel it? Slowly, one day at a time is all it takes to truly and sincerely say, “I belong to you.”

Photo & layout courtesy: canva.com