Just Rambling Along

What would I like to be inscribed on my grave?

I don't know why I would think of such a question, but I did, and I had to think really hard, which made me feel good, coz as it happens, I usually come up with answers and solutions quickly, and this question needed me to think, which means it was an unchartered territory.

After some thought, I settled on this: If inscriptions are supposed to reflect what you were when living and what you wished to be, I would not want an inscription, nor a grave. A grave makes you grounded, and I have always aspired to be free. An inscription makes you confined to a few words, and I have always wished for being more than just a few words.

But I think graves and inscriptions do act as anchors for people who we leave behind. If at all, I would want the stone to say:

Free and Fearless.
--

There was a song in Malayalam for kids that mom and dad translated in Hindi for us and the Baal-Bhavan kids. It's raining and a sparrow is looking for shelter. She goes to different trees and says:
चिलचिल चिलचिल हम हैं चिडीया चिलचिल चिलचिल चिल
चिलचिल चिलचिल हम हैं चिडीया चिलचिल चिलचिल चिल
सुनो रे अंबुआ प्यारे अंबुआ मैं नन्ही चिडीया
बारिश में छुपने भर की मुझको जगह दोगे क्या?

And the mango tree would scold the sparrow and ask her to scoot off.

And so the sparrow would ask for shelter to different trees...and so on it would go, replacing अंबुआ with नीम and other trees. In the end, ईमली very generously would allow the sparrow to take shelter on her branches. The evils need to be punished, right? A strong gale approaches and uproots every tree except the ईमली for her generosity, and she and the sparrow live happily ever after.
--


It is probably true for some of us: 'in death we come alive'. I am not sure what these thoughts are an indication of. Self-destruction? Fatalism? I am not half ashamed to think about such things, and articulate them openly on this blog. Sometimes I confuse myself. I definitely want to live. Passion, zeal, blah, blah. Remember the last blog? But at the same time, if I think of death, I think I can embrace it. Maybe not with compassion, but definitely with calmness and composure. So yeah, I am confused by my own contradictions sometimes.
--

There's a constantly pelting wind on my wall, and I had a thought: What if the wind wants a shelter? What if the rain needs a home? Now that would indeed be a classic case of schizophrenia. Unleashing something, and then wanting to safeguard yourself against it.
--

Wish you all a very happy Diwali!