Showing posts with label answer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label answer. Show all posts

Saturday, 6 August 2022

Stubborn Hopes by Shristi Nangalia

05:00

 


I have always been said that fears, remorse and regrets are paralytic. But lately I have realized that the reason for my decision paralysis is.. Hope. 

While things around me take their sweet time to fall into place, I waited. I waited for magic to happen, I waited for signs from the universe, I waited for the wrong to turn right on its own... hoping it was possible and that it will happen tomorrow, or day after, or months after.. 

Soon enough, after perceiving that its unrewarding, I started fearing hope itself.. which seemed to turn even more futile for my growth. I needed answers. Should I hope or should I not? Does hoping involve a strategy? If not hope, what do I hold on to? 

And then yesterday, when I was trying to fall asleep late in the night, my phone buzzed. It was an email from 'The Artidote'. It was their weekly newsletter about self-faith, penned by Jova. I opened the email and started reading... 

What does it feel like to have full faith in yourself?

What must it feel like to hold a deeper knowing that you can trust?

When we dare venture to move beyond what we currently know and experience something new (gain new perspective), not only may we be able to answer some questions we’ve already posed for ourselves… but we may find answers to questions we don’t yet know to ask.

But you gotta dare venture. Otherwise you will remain with the same questions in a loop; coming up with answers based on a limited perspective of where you've already been..

We cannot be afraid of something we don’t know (because we haven’t been there). It's impossible, literally. What we are afraid of is repeating old knowns.

That’s why meditating on what it means (and feels like) to believe in myself has been crucial in this moment of my life. Knowing that I will always know what’s best for me and that I will always have my back, no matter what new territory I reach, has made all the difference.

Some people call it “confidence.” But confidence is really only the belief that you are always capable of learning new things.

I paused for several moments. I re-read it. 

I understood that its not hope that I should cultivate.. It should be belief. A belief that I have what it takes to change my life for the better. 

I understood that I have it all- experience from what's done, acceptance of what's to come and tendance for self. 

Rather than outsourcing good feelings, I promised myself to try to produce them myself with the gifts from life available to me. 

I set up an alarm 30 minutes preceding to what I usually set and tried to sleep.


Written by- Shristi Nangalia
On cover- Smita Sharan 


Wednesday, 8 February 2017

The Wrong Track by Juhi Meshram

09:00
It counts as a bad manner to listen, interfere or publicise other’s talk. But it doesn’t fit in as a moral when you are travelling by train. In fact, I like it when unknown people sit together and talk about anything to everything just to pass the time. It is believed that people of my generation are involved with their gadget_freak_social_media_life. But! It’s hell not true, not with me at least... especially when the guy opposite you is a handsome army man. A tall, perfectly fair and perfectly built up guy... with lips more pink than usual. And it interests you even more when he is from Kashmir.
I was on my way to Bhopal when I heard this catchy conversation the jawaan was having with a lady (seemed to be in her forties) who was sitting beside him, a cool multitasking college dude next to him again who was talking & playing candy crush and a retired physics professor who was seated next to me.
The professor: I toured Kashmir last year with my beta, bahu and grandson. She surely is a heaven. (by she, he meant Kashmir.)
The lady: Is it safe out there? (What!)
The jawaan: Of course, ma’am. Yes, we can’t deny, there are still some restricted areas, kya kare yeh jung... picha nahi chod rahi. Nearly 11 lakh travellers visited Jammu & Kashmir in 2014, of which only 50,000 were from foreign countries. You must visit ma’am. (Damn, he talks like a dream.)
The cool dude: What is your job? Have you ever been in the border security? (That’s a good one, bro.)
The jawaan: No. It’s been 6 years I am living army. I have worked as security for ministers; have guarded many occasions like Delhi parade. Initially I was in Kashmir but later they sent me to Delhi. Now, I work in headquarters. (Mark his words... he said living army, not serving)
The cool dude: So, you serve Indian Army, that makes it obvious you have no issues with Indian government, but there are many who want a free Kashmir even today... how do you see this? (The dude is more than just cool, I see.)
The jawaan: Haha, I work for India not the government. Well, I love my country, the things that has happened and that are still happening are the after results of adverse opinions, conflicts and much more... Kashmir has suffered a lot, a lot more than what you and I can imagine, but no one alone but everything together was responsible. So I don’t blame people in Kashmir for thinking that way but I try they understand my point. (Deep.)
The lady: It’s really pleasing to see people of your age dedicated towards the country.
The jawaan: There are so many like me out there, ma’am. (Oh man, his smile.)
Pause.
The professor: You are going home or headquarters?
The jawaan: Filhaal, I am going home, I had been in Nagpur for a relatives wedding. I will be home for two days and will then return to cant.
The lady: Where do you live in Kashmir, beta?
The jawaan: Gulmarg. It’s a beautiful hill station. I am born & brought up there. You all can come and visit.
This time he looked at everyone including me. (OMG. Has he seen me gazing at him?)
The professor: I dint get to visit Gulmarg.
The cool dude: It lies near the LOC. (he is still playing.)
The professor: Yeah yeah.
The lady: There must be a Muslim dominating population.
The jawaan: Ji. The whole Kashmir is.
The cool dude: There are other Kashmiri with you in headquarters?
The jawaan: Not in headquarters. But there were many in my batch.
The professor: Is there any quota for Muslims in army?
The jawaan: laugh. There are no quotas.
The lady: Is there any discrimination that Muslims face?
The jawaan: Discrimination? Ma’am this is Indian army, our religions doesn’t matter. If it matters somewhere than only for celebrating our festivals together when we are away from our family. There are so many Muslims in our army, I myself am a Muslim... I have never experienced any discrimination or harassment for being a Muslim or for being from Kashmir.
The professor nodded in support, The cool dude was busy playing but did a hmm to contribute and The lady was stunned for some unknown reason.
The lady: You are musalmaan?
The jawaan: Ji, ma’am. Asraf Ali.
The professor: Tell me more about Gulmarg. Is it safe to travel...
And their conversation went on. They kept on discussing the army, Kashmir, government and I kept on listening to them but by this time my focus had completely shifted to The lady. Suddenly, she was not saying anything, had got shifted towards the window, and was not even looking at them.
This made me restless. Just a few moments ago he was a pleasing young man dedicated to country, he was interesting to listen to and he also was a beta. And being all this... all that mattered for her at last was... that he was a Muslim. He dint react. He didn’t say a single word to her again throughout the journey. May be, he dint care...may be, he was used to this... may be, it dint bother him... may be... may not be. I kept on thinking, I keep thinking even today.
It bothers me even today. The question might not hurt the person who said and the one who answered... but it hurts me.
Why is it necessary for us to know who is who, who is born as what? Isn’t it enough to know what one does and how right or wrong one is with whatever one does?

It is not just about Muslims, but I wonder how many of us Indians ask this one question to how many other Indians... We sadden them, hurt them and we may even provoke them...

संसर्ग | Sansarg

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