Asking Questions

#1. What is character?

Is it being monogamous because when you're not so in a conservative society they say you are "characterless", or is it being ethical or charismatic? I think, character is knowing yourself which requires honesty and integrity towards yourself before others.It is that 'what' makes your personality and then you can define it as you like it yourself. An MBTI code isn't a qualifier, if you think that's how you get to know yourself.

The slow process of knowing what god willed to be known as you, already written from the moment of the "Big Bang". In the divinity of our origins theory, lack for a moment in the societal standard definition of having a good character made a man fall from heaven- for forbidden are some apples.

Who are you! Is your character, not what you're known for-How,When,What and Why are for your biography. If you like yourself enough and are comfortable to be with just yourself is the beginning of having a character- a first, in the peeling away of an onion. It might get teary, maybe blinding. But once you've chopped it and sautéed yourself to golden brown, the crisp and taste will lead you to the the kingdom of heaven within. 

#2.Inceptions into Interstellar.

Think about it, as the prefrontal cortex does it's work when we peep into past or future the present time loops in the past like a record player stuck on another track. As we draw in from the past peering into our selves stuck in some moment in time never to change in the reality of lived moments and in the mind of those witnessed it along with our own mental conception, somewhere in future we ourselves are watching us in now. 

At 3am with 'Abh Kya Bataun' from the film Manto in beautiful baritone of Shubha Joshi ji playing happens to be the Eureka moment of my life in understanding as I intercept onto me watching me, and realising this moment is what brought me to that moment. In about the right time, as a result of both now and the past that I try use in from of logic brings me to the future and in future I look back at now. Confusing much? You'll know when it's about time for you. If it gets too confusing, sleep on it- pass that time, maybe that's what is  required now for you to teleport to where you will be. 

#3. Was I pretty?

Growing up, in family where we as kid's were either disliked for in general who we were. Non studious, earphone on with Walkman, averaging in school and mannerisms. Having a good face sometimes got us more than necessary criticism for the attention a child of a failing father drew. How dare we? born to a middle class version of silver spoon family, child of first born cousins in a typical(if there is anything such like it) Bengali Muslim family. It was a wonder that we were born normal, or were we? 

Eleven cousins, mostly male with varying wealth and test scores yet managing to blend in the soup of Grandpa's home every summer and some winter vacations at a town called Arambagh, West Bengal. That's where I grew up, it's a long story if I had to tell you all that underwent. In a gist, If asked was I pretty? I'd say My mother is gorgeous, she remains 22 at 49 and my father who I haven't seen properly for the last 12 years post their departure from love remains fit for his own good. Yet, after knowing they were arranged to be married young for they looked good and fitting I asked was genes enough to call me pretty. My brother sure was handsome, but was I even equal. The male attention as I enter public spaces, cat callings and criminal messages all of this what do they mean? All this objectified comments, some empty "I Love You's", I look at the mirror and I ask is it my reflection or the type of mirror that shows me pretty. In a world of filters, configured phone cameras and unnatural editing. What makes me pretty? 

Coming from wealth to poverty, to what they say "daddy issues" confidence was the primary toll. I never felt pretty, to look pretty I hungered for knowledge, for degrees and career. All the men in my life I had loved, all the women that have loved me, and the ones that dint. They say I am pretty, but why did I feel otherwise? So invested in all these insecurities, I failed to look inside. Now when I look within, I do look pretty. That sunny damp face from a badminton match with my cousins, that tear rolled face of a daughter, that anxious face of the college graduate and the twinkling eyes of my mother reflecting my face everyday. I was happy and I plan to remain so forever, that is my true beauty!

#4. On death'

After my birth, father held me close to his chest it is then I knew there were two heartbeats that raced when I was held. As I gew older, I new they cannot hold me forever. That is when I thought of death, not knowing there were other ways to separation.

From then the journey till date has been mystic, as till the age of five I grew up in a house built near a Hindu morgue with stories of spirits, sound of crackling bones and stench of death. Then in the vacations at our Village home, entry was through our family burial wherein as years passed we buried our great grand parents and grand parents, death at that point had become emotional rather than haunting. Grandfather's kolkata residency was located near the Scottish Cemetery where English and Scottish were buried a century before my birth, I guess I was the intruder. My residence nears a hospital en routing the Muslim burial ground, my tryst with deaths value has become spiritual! Onlooking bodies of those somebody loved or hated leave, I ask the soul to forgive. 

Their souls do erk questions within me...on death- is it seperation or an union? Post a pandemic and lifecycles, losing family and a dear friend to death. I ask death, what is life? as Emily rides with it.It Poetically says 

"We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground—

The Roof was scarcely visible—

The Cornice—in the Ground—

Since then—’tis Centuries—and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses’ Heads

Were toward Eternity—"

#5. Curiosity.

I'm on the fifth question already, what is with this never ending curiosity? I was born a curious person, it's the genes I blame. Now, why is it that I bring in my past before I speak of the topic in general? It's how we were build isn't it? It's the history. 'Why' of things comes from sectoral, temporal, philosophical and historic reasons. Most of our behaviour and neurosis stems from, first the genetic basis/nature and then the nurture. By the time we grow up, it's hard to believe why we used to be scared of insignificant issues but the truth is- it was instilled in us. Our personality either rejected the threat or believed in it and that shaped it all till we consciously reshaped it. Now, curiosity comes from both nature and nurture. To give you an example from my life situations - My mother would say "Lok'e Jodi bole tor Kan nei, toh shottei ki tor Kan nei?" -If people tell you you don't have an ear, would it be true that you really lack an ear. 

As a four year old, I started by checking if I did have one and then cried as to why she said so, next was to understand what's an ear by squeezing it hard and figuring it out when the sound was blocked off with my squeezing. That statement did stay with me, as a teen I knew what Ma meant by Kan/Ear. But, having grown with other kids being told the same thing yet having different impact I knew curiosity wasn't a given for all yet till you learn to be curious hardship will follow. Mind of a human is the crux of the universe, don't let it free. Control it, own it and watch it! Are you curious? How you ask? I don't know! Find out yourself, it's your mind...you know it best. 

(I'll give you a cheat word- Meditate)

#6.Do the Hungry or the lovers ever truly sleep?

There are lovers, who kill or get killed. Lovers who claim to love and then there are lovers who truly love. Yet, is that love truly enough. No matter how many lovers come and go, if you've truly loved even one of them do you really let them go? If you've loved all of them, does it mean your love gets withered. 

Every lover and love has a keepsake, you can't forget. It may pain, it may ache and like the hungry you'll twist in your bed yet it'll never be the same even if you reconciliate. Will you ever sleep the same? Do the hungry forget hunger once they are fed? Ponder harder, if you've truly ever loved, no matter how far you run! It'll still accompany you to your grave. Every lover, comes with 'till death do us apart' ye say 'Ay' to it or not. 

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” 

- Hazrat Rumi