Who is Fumbling on Forgiveness After All?

It has been a long time since I have been musing on this topic. I wanted to write on it quite a few times but I, even I, fear being misunderstood. I have seen often when I write a reflective piece people think there is something immediate that I want to refer to. If I am reflecting on sadness, I must be sad. If I am reflecting on heartbreak, I must be heartbroken. So much so, once I had refered to one of my own writings sitting by the Caribbean Sea and someone wrote to me how I have decided to not to be happy ever! If I was not thinking happy thoughts 24/7 sitting beside the Caribbean, I must have banished myself in the country of forever sadness! I often think such reactions stop people from reflecting in a world, which anyway is all about doing, and being miserable at that. 

Today however, I want to push away that fear a little and pen down this reflection on forgiveness. I have been reflecting for some time on my encounter with a whole bunch of people who believe, if a substantial amount of time has passed, anything is forgivable. Some of them believe no apology is required (given their seniority in age, status), not even acknoledgement of the hurt. Some others believe if they had said sorry, it should be a reason enough to forgive and forget and live life like nothing ever happened. This phenomenon has totally baffled me from the very first time onwards! I had to however reflect on the complete unjustified nature of this expectation since the time "flying monkeys" have descended in scores to justify it. 

Do you know about flying monkeys? The term comes from The Wizard of Oz, where the Wicked Witch of the West uses flying monkeys under her spell. They work for her. In real life also these are the people who would always apprear on behalf of the perpetrator to put doubts in your mind. "It can not be that bad!", "You have made it bigger in your head", "They must not have meant bad!" "Your parents/siblings/natal family/spouse (whichever apply) cant be wishing bad for you!," "Normal people generally let go after a few weeks/months/years!" The last one is my favourite of course. I have heard it from the perpetrator herself and also from the recruited flying monkeys in various occassions. :)

I am very intrigued by the concept of forgiveness many people have. I am all for forgiveness to the extent of neutralising the effect of the incident on your day to day life. Like Kurt Vonnegut, I do catch myself feeling sad about things that don't matter anymore, but I let go of it's chair on my everyday table when the disappointment, the betrayal, the pain stayed it's course. When it's done staying. For a long time, they ate (or skipped) breakfast, lunch, and dinner with you and slept or tossed in the same bed, but now all you have is the memory of them. Not the feeling itself. You generally make peace with your present and live your life. So far so good. I am with you. I just do not understand how does the forgiveness extend to giving the perpetrator access to your current life again! For me that is not part of forgiveness. It is many a times being stupid of the first order (and I have been that). The perpetrator has not acknowledge the harm, or the intensity of the harm, has even denied having any role in harming you, has not said sorry (only tried to jusify his action), has made you question your understanding of the situation, and they have no intention of changing their behaviour and you are often told my the flying monkeys how forgiveness means starting on a blank slate. Oh no! There is no blank slate because no work has happened on repair. You have spent years waiting for the repair. You had to instead notice the pattern. You had to get your heart broken again and again. And by the people who were supposed to be your best bets in human race. And now you recognise them like you recognise the winter. Now you see them coming from liles off and look into their eyes. You firmly stand your ground till the time they hover. You wrap yourself with the blankets of kindness and care. You had to learn it the hard way. And you wait. Patiently. The winter will pass and so will the storm. Unless you love a tumultous life full of drama, I do not see any point in giving them access to your life again. Forgiveness for others should not mean a life a perpetual torture for yourself. 

And yes, I do not believe everything is forgivable. Not everything should be forgiven. Neither does every human deserve an access to you. However, you definitely deserve forgiveness from yourself for being the self that sought love where love was never to be found. After all some of these people were "given" to you in the name of love and they failed. May they do better with others. May you do better for yourself. 

Mothers' Day!

 Being a mom is not my mother's best quality!

And although she may not like saying it aloud, 

I want to fight for her to retain her right to not to like her day-job.

How many of us like our day-jobs anyway? 

We often do them because we really need what it brings; 

The capital: financial, social, relational. 

Mothers in this deeply misogynist world,

(whose wombs are impregnated with patriarchal expectations 

even before a sperm reach that darkness)

Do they even have a place to sit, do a bottoms up on a glass of beer, and say, 

"I hate my day-job! I hate being a mother!!" 

And on that note, hold my glass mate!!

I want a world like that. 

I wish it was like becoming the President of USA

Once you become one, 

You will be called one all your life and you don't even have to do much for that. 

Being a mother is like a test every day 

And it is better that you agree to fail because 

It is so much easier to fail 

Than getting anything closer to the pass marks. 

"Your infant does not weigh much?" Fail!

"The infant weighs too much?" Fail!

"The toddler does not talk?" Fail!

"The toddler talks too much?" Fail!

You have a teenager?!

You better don't get me started!

In a society where you are, what you have, 

A son's mother passes in flying colours though

With a son settled abroad and earning in six figures.

A daughter's mother does not pass even then....

"Did she bring the milk coming back home at midnight from the CEO meeting?" 

Indra Nooyi, the CEO asks. 

Mothers fail!

My mother is a great aunt, friend, sister, and a great self-taught banker 

My mother is a fabulous cook with no patience to teach anyone...

But being a mother, is not my mother's best quality.

And I want a world for my mother on this mother's day, 

In which she can say this without being shamed!

The adult me wants to humanise my mother 

The adult me wants to humanise all mothers, 

Including myself. 

My younger self gets even more angry with me though...

She does not like it. But she is only a child..

I know my mother would not like it either.

And you wouldn't too! 

It is never that you see!

 Every time I talk to you, 

I shake my head vigorously, and say

"Oh it's not about that you see...

It's not even about that..."

It's still about asking you to care. 

It is still about wanting to be seen.

It is still about being loved, unconditionally! 

Trust me, I am at it.

I have not yet stopped trying to give up on that love that was never mine. 

I have not yet stopped trying to give up on finally making you hear me. 

I have not stopped trying to cajole myself to give up on dreams I was born with. 

Dreams are not real; trust me, I remind myself every day. 

Nowadays I keep dragging the three wheeler of "what one should do" 

through a dry riverbed. 

The terribly misbalanced hand pulled rickshaw on dry a riverbed, 

That's what I drag! 

That was where I was born; the perched riverbed of a summer afternoon.

That's where I have been digging forever for some water.  

My fingers bloodied, my throat dried, my body gave up again and again

But I remained at it. Blood, sweat, and tears. 

It was not a desert after all.. 

I could not leave in search of an oasis. 

The assurance of water was right there!

The water was not!

And it will never be...

बंधुआ मज़दूरी

 जब भी मैं सोचती हूँ क्या तुम मुझे याद करते हो - 

साथ में ये ज़रूर सोचती हूँ, 

जिसे तुम याद करोगे  भी वो मैं तो थी ही नहीं।  

तुम जिससे मिले, जिससे बातें कीं

और जिससे प्यार का दावा किया 

वो मैं नहीं थी 

वो तुम्हारी बंधुआ मज़दूर थी।  

वो वाले, जिनके बारे में किसी हकीम ने हाल ही में कहा

"कोई बंधुआ नहीं होता!! 

सब अपने मर्ज़ी से खुद आते है!"

चलो! पता तो चला!  

उनसे पता चला भूख कुछ नही होती

पेट की भी नहीं 

प्यार की भी नहीं।  

सिर्फ़ लेबर प्रोब्लेम्स होते हैं

सिर्फ़ समझ का फेर 

किस काम के बदले क्या मिलेगा और कब तक 

तुम्हारी समझ अलग और मेरी समझ अलग

पर काम तय था।  

काम एक तरफ़ा था।  

मेहनत एक तरफ़ा थी।

ज़िम्मेदारी भी एक तरफ़ा थी।  

इंटों के ढेर के नीचे दबी लाश 

अपने ठन्डे होते हुए बदन और ठंडे पड़ते दिल लिए जानती थी 

ज़िम्मेदारी सिर्फ़ एक की ही थी।  

और हकीमसा'ब भी ठीक यही जानते थे।

ব্যস এইটুকুই -

...................................

এলিসিও দিয়েগো 

অনুবাদ: নয়না 

কবিতা খুব বেশী কিছু না 

যেন কোনো পুরোনো উনোনের পাশে বসে 

আলো-আঁধারি কোনো কথোপকথন, যখন 

সবাই ফিরে গেছে, আর বন্ধ দরজার বাইরে খস খস শব্দ করে ডাকছে

ঘন জঙ্গল; হ্যাঁ, সেইই কবিতা।  

কবিতা কিছু শব্দ ব'ই তো নয়

যাদের ভালোবেসেছে কেও, আর বদলে গেছে

যাদের অবস্থান সময়ের সাথে, তাই এখন তারা 

শুধুই কোনো কালির মোটা দাগ,

নামহীন কোন আশার মতো;  

কবিতা খুশীর থেকে বেশী কিছু নয় 

বা সূর্যাস্তের ছায়ায় কোনো কথোপকথন 

বা সেই সবকিছু যা চিরকালের জন্যে হারিয়ে গেছে 

আর যা আজ শুধুই নিস্তব্ধ যাপন।  

मेरा भारतवर्ष

......................

-वीरेंद्र चट्टोपाध्याय

अनुवाद: नयना

.................

मेरा भारतवर्ष

उन पचास करोड़ नग्न इंसानों का है

जो धूप में मेहनत करते हैं सारा दिन,

और रात में सो नहीं पाते

भूख से, ठण्ड से;

जाने कितने राजा आते हैं, चले जाते हैं

इतिहास के आसमान को

ज़हरीला कर जाते हैं ईर्ष्या और द्वेष से

पानी काला हो जाता है, धुएं और कोहरे से

हवा में अँधेरा छा जाता है।

चारों तरफ षड्यंत्र, चारों तरफ लालचियों का प्रलाप

युद्ध और भुखमरी आती है एक दूसरे के होंठ चूमते हुए

धरती काँप उठती है सांप के दंश से, शेर के झपटने से;

लेकिन मेरा भारतवर्ष नहीं पहचानता इन्हें

नहीं मानता इनके फ़रमान;

उसकी संतानें भूख में

ठंड में

चारों तरफ के इस भीषण उन्माद में

आज भी हैं ईश्वर की संतान,

हैं एक दूसरे की सहोदर!

Image courtesy: DNA

थोड़ा जल्दी चलो भाई

 

.............................................................

- सुभाष मुखोपाध्याय

अनुवादक: नयना Nayana

"लेनिन को हमने खड़ा कर रखा है

धर्मतला में

ट्राम गुमटी के पास।

कूड़े के ढेर में से भात चुनकर खा रहे है कुछ लोग

कूड़ेदान में हाथ घुसाकर।

लेनिन देख रहें हैं।

गांव से एक आदमी शहरी डॉक्टर के हाथों कंगाल होने आया था

उसके पहले ही उसको कंगाल कर दिया एक जेब-कतरे ने।

लेनिन देख रहें हैं।

शाम ढलते ही जिस लड़की को एक टैक्सी उठाकर ले गई थी ,

शाम खत्म होते होते ,

उबासी लेते हुए

वो फिर आ कर खड़ी हो गई है उसी पेड़ के नीचे।

लेनिन देख रहें हैं।

खड़े रहते रहते लेनिन को भी उबासी आ रही थी ।

अचानक जैसे वो थोड़ा चौंक कर सपाट खड़े हो गए।

जिधर उनकी नज़र है, उधर झांक कर देखा

लाल निशान उड़ाकर मजदूरों का एक विशाल जत्था चला आ रहा है।

मुझे लगा , लेनिन जैसे चिल्लाकर बोल उठे,

सदी बीतने के कगार पर है-

थोड़ा जल्दी चल लो भाई, थोड़ा जल्दी चल लो।"

Original poem: Ektu pa chaliye bhai...