Serindipitous Lesson of Acceptance



It has been two years into college and in an attempt to fathom my very own personality, there is one precious lesson that I have figured out –the lesson of acceptance. I stepped in as a judgmental being but as time crawled and paced, my conscience was positively influenced by experiences.

There was one boy in the college who embarrassed me by confessing his heart out ridiculously and publicly during the very first days itself. I was not particularly irritated by the way my friends laughed at me for that incident but I certainly did rank him as an absolute non-sense person. His blind loose talks always infuriated my senses and often I struggled to maintain any amount of equanimity. This year,on one easy day in the campus, he appeared from nowhere, into my group, with his exasperating style of blague and I was annoyed. But when each of my friends left for their lunch, this boy started speaking sense and infact he came up with eye-opening statements itself! After a long hour’s conversation he made me realize that his much reputed babbles were all just a veil to hide and treasure his personal observations and inferences. That very moment prompted me to look upto him as an individual by quietening my prejudiced mind and I ended up with respectful remarks. (I hope, he would pardon me for misjudging his aura.)

But not so long after this incident, he left the college.But before leaving,he did  sprinkle some amount of goodness which I could never return and it was more than enough to make me believe in
my dreams.


That unexpected evening when I came to know that he was leaving the college, I felt like a defeated person. Though we are not even friends till today, I really do wish that I could have undone my mistake long before itself. Sprouting into an individual is a privileged process shaded with personal gains and losses. He is a valuable gain and a difficult loss as well because he has so effortlessly taught me that sense is not always in being sensible externally, he made me believe that an individual’s real worth is in his soul and never upon his fleshy outer self. For me, that boy was a whole big wordless lesson of acceptance.

Vittal, you are really much more than all those textual chapters offered by the college.

 Thank you for leaving without any sophisticatedly crafted hard adieu. There is a miraculous peace in connecting through these fragmented brief moments even when strangeness remains as always. 

Wherever you are, always stay meaningful!

Unapologetically, a forgetful tintinnabulation in an explosive world.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Until Next Time

Image
“It wasn’t that I wanted to go home Who knew home? I only knew alone. What I wanted was to be elsewhere, Somewhere, anywhere but there.” I am forever longing for death. When people around me crave to live, I could never derive meaning out of their desire! I always wanted to die… Slowly, painlessly and alone. Over the time, my death instinct has become an inexorable habitual thought. To me, self-harming is a matter of immense solace because I am always incapable of describing those momentary emotions which visit me, intermittently. I am yearning to merge into there, into that infinite nothingness. Until very recently, nothing ever had the power of diluting my urge to die. But this October came and faded, leaving a swelling torment. Now, I am aware of how death can grab away the soul of the living with that of the dead. Eleven nights have withered since she slept, forever, without putting me to sleep.   At benumbed nights, I extract mute frames from the endless
Read more

The Melancholic Bond and an Insufficient Daughter

Image
“So, I am leaving on this Sunday night.  .  . ” “Alone?” “Yea . . . It’s the Air India flight, so the luggage thing is sorted. Also, Anita aunty will come to pick me up.” (Silence) “It feels like yesterday was your first day in school. You chose to go to school while you were still underage and we never had to convince you about it.  .  .  You know, on your first day you didn’t eat your lunch (laughs) . . .” My incapacity to respond to it muted our conversation. But I was amused by the emotions flickering in her eyes. Still, it was unbearable for me to know her closer and I turned away into thoughts.                          My reality, since the age of one was that of being raised by grandparents and away from parents. To me, parents were a holiday destination or freedom from the rules imposed by grandparents. Being with them on vacations meant waking up late or choosing jalebi over breakfast or to devour chocolates and ice-creams
Read more

Diary entry - 28/1/2019

Image
The canteen window gestured to the winter sky, desperately preparing to pour down. When the heavy clouds were brawling, my lips were soaked in the steam puffing sugarless coffee. Very typical of a semester beginning, thoughts were grazing in the valley of academia until the glaring clock pulled my eyes out of its sockets. I gulped down the coffee with an oily bite of omelet and rushed into the lecture hall on the first floor. Into the cacophony of the room, the professor with strangely fashioned white whiskers entered and verbally involved himself in Mrinal Sen and his art. Though impregnated with wisdom, it went tiresomely long till he paused! The lights disappeared for the projector to beam moving images, Bengali font and English subtitles. Despite many impeding heads of various sizes, planted on necks of various lengths, I read - Chaalchitra Directed by Mrinal Sen After one and half hours of intermittent fits of laughter and journeying into old memories, I
Read more