Happiness begins with yourself

 How often do we rely on externalities to satiate our craving for emotional fulfilment? We have completely  outsourced the entirety of our well-being and happiness to factors comprehensively beyond our control! This primarily stems from a lack of awareness about our inner self. The consciousness which pervades our being demands ardent perennial satiety emanating from the outside to boost our ego. This, however, does not reflect upon our sanctum sanctorum. It is vital to check upon ourselves to see if we've been hollowed, inside-out, in our abject rush for extrinsic affirmation. Neglecting to nourish our spiritual self, which then harps upon the slightest of verklempt baits and becomes giddy and recalcitrant to reason.

It is easier said than done though! How are we supposed to manufacture happiness inside us when the whole premise of the world we live in is based of off external validation? The commodification of joy wrapped beneath a fine veneer of materialism constantly demands that we inject ourselves with contentment by splurging constantly on fleeting vessels of fulfilment. If we aren't satisfied with ourselves, no amount of cajoling and cheerleading from all and sundry will keep us in good spirits.

"Expectation is the root of all heartache"... opined Shakespeare, perhaps envisaging the chaotic times that humankind shall find itself in. We are unequivocally dependant on expectedly expecting happiness to be perpetually delivered by the participants of our interpersonal relationships. Whilst doing this, we place an inordinate amount of burden on our coterie to anticipate our needs and wants, sometimes, even without being expressly vocal about them. Consequently, when the behaviour of our inner circle is naturally not as appeasing to the ego, the interactions become unpalatable, and fraught with conflicts - with the ties often deteriorating at a breakneck speed to annulment.

What is the way forward then? Where there's commitment, there's bound to be a modicum of bundled expectations to go along with it, and that's fine as long as it doesn't cross the blurred line of unreasonableness. Who defines what's reasonable and what's not? Anything that forces you to act in a predetermined manner so as to elicit an inevitable reaction from others is bordering on unconscionable conduct. It is important to be unconditional in the discharge of demeanour and not just proclaim selflessness to sound morally upright. Giving without reciprocity is the noblest of gestures, and also the most arduous to accomplish and inculcate.

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बड़े दिनों बाद

बड़े दिनों बाद आज एक बार फिर हिंदी मैं लिखने का साहस कर रहा हूँ। वैसे तो दो दिन पहले माँ के कहने पर एक निबंध लिखने की कोशिश की थी पर उसमे उनके आंकलन के हिसाब से सफलता नहीं मिली। आठवीं कक्षा तक बहुत रूचि से इस भाषा का प्रयोग करता था; लेकिन उसके बाद संस्कृत भाषा के चयन करने से हिंदी से समझो नाता ही टूट गया! आज ब्लॉगर ने प्रेरित किया की क्यों न हिंदी में कुछ लिखा जाए तो मुझे भी यह बात रास आ गयी। 

स्कूल के दिनों से ही हिंदी व अंग्रेज़ी भाषाएँ बेहद दिलचस्प रहीं हैं। मैं बहुत खुशनसीब था की मुझे दोनों ही विषयों को पढ़ाने वाली अध्यापिकाएँ विश्व-स्तरीय थी और यह केवल उनके सराहनीय उपलब्धियों का नतीजा है की मुझे अपने विचारों को व्यक्त करने में सरलता महसूस होती है। आज भी मुझे अपने हिंदी की व्याकरण के किताब का स्मरण है। उसमे दिए हुए कुछ मुहावरे, संधि करने के नियम कुछ-कुछ याद आते हैं। भाषा की भिन्न-भिन्न नियमों को कंठस्थ करना और बिना कोई चूक किये उसका प्रयोग करना सबके बस की बात नहीं है। मुझे आज भी अपनी पाठशाला में लिखे हुए श्रुतलेख याद आते हैं। मेरे शिक्षकगंण अपने विषयों में इतने पारंगत थे, कि उनके पढ़ाने पर कोई प्रश्न पूछने की आवश्यकता ही नहीं उत्पन्न होती थी। हर पाठ रोचक प्रतीत होता था। कहानियों और कविताओं से काफी कुछ सीखने को मिलता था। कितनी ही कविताओं को मौखिक परीक्षा के लिए याद करके लय में गाया भी है। उन दिनों पढ़ने की भी अलग धुन सवार थी, पढ़ना तब आनंदमय हुआ करता था। उसके लिए किसी को टोकना या याद भी नहीं दिलाना होता था। एक नियमित रूप से पढाई होती जाती थी। उसे कभी चिंता-स्वरुप देखने की नौबत ही नहीं आती थी। 

अब हालात कुछ बदले हुए से नज़र आते हैं। पढ़ने के लिए प्रेरणास्त्रोत की जरुरत आन पड़ी! बड़े सारे विकर्षण पैदा हो गये। अब ध्यान लगाने के लिए ख़ास मशक़्क़त करनी पड़ती है। हर घड़ी, दिमाग के किसी कोने में नयी समस्या जन्म लेती है और उसका हल ढूंढने में हम हताश हो जाते हैं। धैर्यता का आभाव नज़र आता है। जल्दबाज़ी का पागलपन शीर्षता पर है। हर कार्य को पूरा करने का मन तो है पर वह कैसे पूर्ण होंगे उसकी कोई योजना नहीं। मैं निराशावादी तो कतई नहीं हूँ पर आशा तभी रंग लाती है जब आप दृढ़ संकल्प से अपने लक्ष्य को प्राप्त करने में तत्पर रहें। मेहनत का विकल्प बुद्धिमता नहीं हो सकती। आराम फरमा कर जीतने की कल्पना करना तो मूर्खता होगी। और वैसे भी, यदि कोई चीज़ बिना संघर्ष के प्राप्त हो जाए तो उसका मूल्य भली-भाँती पता नहीं चलता और उसे खोने का भी गम नहीं होता। 

जीवन भी एक परीक्षा के सामान ही है, बस उत्तीर्ण होने के अलग अलग मापदंड हैं। अगर हम अपना जीवन बिना दूसरों को कष्ट पहुंचाए, शान्ति से, समृद्धि की ओर अग्रसर हो सकते हैं तो मेरे दृष्टिकोण में वह एक सफल जीवन कहलायेगा। जितनी हम अपनी दिनचर्या को सरल रखने का प्रयास करेंगे उतना ही हमारे लिए लाभदायक होगा। बिना किसी कारण के दूसरों से बैर रखना, उनकी बुराई करना या मन में किसी भी प्रकार का द्वेष रखने से हमारी अंतरात्मा को निस्संदेह नुकसान पहुँचता है। भलाई इसी मैं है की हम "कर भला तो हो भला" के पथ पर चले जिससे सबका कल्याण हो। गलतियां भी जीवन का एक अवियोज्य हिस्सा हैं, पर जैसा की हम जानते ही हैं, उनपर ज़रूरत से ज़्यादा समय खर्च करना भी गलत है। अपना जीवन व्यतीत करते हुए हम निरंतर एक आदर्श छात्र की तरह सीखते रहें, व्यव्हार में अपेक्षित बदलाव लाते रहें, और सदैव खुशहाल रहने के प्रयास में जुटे रहें। 

Doting On Divinity

Tresses undone, hues of petrichor abound

Gaze of a gazelle, wanders around

Spunky, perky stride; strutting around

Enunciation as a melody, its effect profound

Halo radiates in countenance, mysticity profound

Her mien in helios basking, nature’s spellbound

Chortles exultantly, grief’s spellbound

Visage emoting animatedly, the moment’s unbound

Conduct chiselled to perfection, simplicity’s unbound

Pulchritudinous innocence, soulful and sound

Afflatus to a parched mind, the rhythm in sound

A pierian spring, divinity expound.

Chokers No More

The dejected Proteas after Grant Elliot hit the winning Six off Dale Steyn in the penultimate ball of the BLACKCAPS’ innings. Photo Courtesy : ICC

Your reputation precedes you, is an oft-cited phrase seldom used in the sporting context. The South African Cricket Team, however, has been anointed with a rather unfortunate reputation. After a clinical victory over the Lankans in the Quarters, many believed that the inexplicable curse that had driven such a magnificent team to falter in the knockout stages of every major ICC tournament had finally begun to wither away. Little did they know that the notorious spectre of a moniker, the dreaded C-word,  would strike back with vengeance in the game that could well have been their long-awaited Ticket to the Finale. 

The Proteas’ Captain, a swashbuckling all-rounder with a penchant to score at will and occasionally dismissing the batsman with his deceptive medium-pace when he is not keeping wickets, would have surely regarded winning the toss as a positive omen. With the ranks of such a consistently primed batting unit alongwith a repertoire of exceptional bowlers and the fielding skills equivalent of a well-rehearsed acrobatic act, the Men in Green and Yellow together plenarily constitute a formidable side. Their performance in this edition of the World Cup, barring a couple of aberrations against India and Pakistan in the Group Stage, has been rather impressive. They became the First Team to post Consecutive Totals in excess of exceeding 400 runs in One-Day Internationals and backed that up by winning both those matches by a margin of more than 200 hundred runs. The Quarter-Final against Sri Lanka was hopelessly lopsided and mopped-up by the South Africans in a jiffy. Then arrived the occasion of today’s match versus an undefeated and spirited opponent who shared a quirky commonality with them. Both South Africa and the BLACKCAPS, had never made it to the Finals of a World Cup. It was their Fourth and Seventh appearance in a Semi-Final of the World Cup, having participated in Seven and Eleven editions of this quadrennial cricketing extravaganza respectively. Surely, there was no dearth of passion, commitment and hunger to travel across the Tasman Sea to Sydney for a chance to slug it out in the Grand Finale, for a chance to lay hand on the elusive cup. For Team SA, there were perhaps a few other boxes to be ticked-off. The perpetual haranguing from all and sundry, accusing them of not displaying mental fortitude under pressure , thence crumbling despite contrarian resources to succeed; That vacant spot in their otherwise gleaming trophy cabinet; And, a fan-base like no other which had doggedly persevered through thick and thin despite the numerous occasions of heartache and heartbreak. All the aforementioned factors would have fuelled the warrior in each one of them, egging them on to give it their all at a venue which would be partisan and fiercely rallying behind the New Zealanders, enjoying a significant home advantage in a crunch knockout match. 

It did not start too pleasantly for the Proteas with their opening pair dismissed cheaply. Moreover, the prolonged rain-interruption after the 38th over did contribute to a momentum shift with Anderson accounting for a free-flowing and well-set Du Plessis in only the second ball after resumption. However, the blitzkrieg of David Miller ensured that the Saffers had posted a competitive total for a D/L curtailed 43-Overs a side match. Brendom Mccullum, had other ideas though. He took the otherwise ferocious Dale Steyn to the cleaners and distorted his economy rate by accruing 25 runs in the 5th over of the NZ innings. He departed soon after though, and the South Africans had the proverbial foot in the door. Although the Kiwis maintained a healthy run-rate thereafter, the South African bowlers did make periodic inroads by picking-up wickets at regular intervals. Their propensity to lunge themselves at the ball in the field in every possible contortionist angle to save runs was a sight to behold. Every run was as precious as a diamond and they fielded as if their lives hinged on not conceding even a solitary unit. The nerves frayed a bit as the equations drew closer though. The sense of stress spreading tentacles over a perspiring South African XI was palpable. An incredible sense of urgency was visible on the field. 

AB de Villiers making a mess of an easy run-out opportunity to dismiss Corey Anderson. Photo Courtesy : ICC

Although true that Sports does not concern itself with could-haves and should-haves, yet it would be worthwhile to mention here that the outcome of this match could have been starkly different had the South Africans capitalised on the multitude of chances dished out by the Kiwi batsmen. Apart from AB de Villiers, the SA keeper Quinton De Kock also missed out on a fairly regulation run-out opportunity once and failed to hit the stumps twice in the final over which allowed the batters to scamper through for byes. Also, Behardien and Duminy collided to spill the skier offered by Grant Elliott, the eventual player of the match.

Spilling the Kookaburra and quite possibly the World Cup. Photo Courtesy : AFP

Ultimately, it all boiled down to 5 runs required off 2 deliveries. Eliott facing Steyn who had had problems with his hamstring in the innings and had just been tended to by the physio a couple of balls ago. Dale delivered with the Proteas’ hopes pinned on him eliciting some magic but Elliott did not grant his wish, instead, he deposited the ball in the stands as the spectators launched into a rapturous thunderclap. And then strangely, the time stood still. The South African players had frozen; Collapsed in a heap in their respective positions as they choked up. Not in the derisive sense that their harshest critics have branded them as being, but in a sombre and reflective display of emotions. There was grief and melancholy all around. The camera was not panning towards the players who had ostensibly emerged victorious but towards the players of this team who were shell-shocked beyond belief, consoling and comforting each other...bracing themselves in the event of such a numbing finish which dealt a rather forceful sentimental blow to a crop of worthy aspirants who had fallen short, but only just. Albeit it is a homily that you win some and you lose some, certain losses in sport are more heartening than others, this loss, even for a neutral fan, was indeed a heartening one! This despite not discounting the fact that the BLACKCAPS were meritorious victors in their own right and their victory can scarcely be attributed only to serendipity, although a slice of luck does make for a delicious win. The Proteas’ and especially their Captain de Villiers brought their A-game to this tournament and put up an exhibition of eclectic stroke-play which intrigued and enticed the viewers across the spectrum in equal measure. By virtue of the intensity in their cricket and with a renewed belief, they are bound to triumph in time. They stuttered before the final frontier alright, but surely they are not chokers anymore. They await a finishing flourish which also requires a degree of providence to carry them through such treacherous terrain which has hobbled them more often than not. It is not a question of if they can do it, it is now only a question of when and how they will do it. This defeat was barely a resultant of buckling comprehensively under pressure in such a fashion that the opposition tramples through you, it was a hard-fought pipping, unlike the legion of chokers who would have catatonically combusted much before the finish line was in sight.

Here's a video which I believe is representative of the cumulative ethos and passion of their cricketing fraternity.

Before Today

Friends in the yore,
Strangers today.
Peals of laughter before,
Smirks galore today.
Tokens of care & appreciation before,
Only unreciprocated messages today.
Reassurance and camaraderie before,
A cold temperament today.
Promises before;
All broken today.

Mirage before, Reckoning today?

Hope and faith before,

Skepticism today.

A shining light before,

Dreary shadows today.

An alibi before,

Incommunicado today.

Only you before, some of me today!

An introspective revamp

"The only difference between a rut and a grave are the dimensions."

Ellen Glasgow

The need to reinvent oneself to remain relevant and enthused is a bromide one is fed continually in the course of facilitating the traversal out of a rut. The prescription remains the same, no matter the prognosis. Is there a universal roadmap then, which guides the ilk of such individuals on the course of acquiring the panacea which would seemingly enable them to wish away their tribulations and start afresh? Is there really a way by which you could reset your internal mechanisms to now process a manufactured worldview, better attuned to what constitutes the ever-dynamic definition of normalcy and success?

The wisdom of life consists in the elimination of non-essentials. If transmogrification is high on agenda, severing the hardened tentacles that bog you down to compulsively wallow in a putrifyingly stagnant status quo is a prerequisite. Familiarity breeds contempt to, change, which could be instrumental in bringing about progress. It is unreasonable to be a purveyor of such a belief that one is completely immune to the parlous parleys of life. Persistently being on the offensive or perennially remaining stuck inside your shell are the two obvious extremes that are ruled out. As always, the utopian strategy would be a right mix of aggression and stoicism. An individual who can make the most of it when the going is good and who lays low but never gives up when the tide has turned against him is destined to sail through the choppy ocean which is life.

We need to be tempered in our responses to the multitude of stimuli encountered by us. The normalisation of our reactions is a long-drawn phenomenon which constitutes of us being more observant and mindful. Reflex actions are best reserved for when the judgement needs to be made in a jiffy. At other times, when situations merit that our response espouses a more serious consideration, which is to alter the course of our being significantly, it is quintessential to factor-in all the eventualities before arriving at the final decision.

A comprehensive metamorphosis of character and outlook can only be brought about by subtly tweaking the finer aspects of one's persona. Even the most grievous and egregious of faults are open to correction; subject to the willingness and objectivity of the individual concerned. Admittance of fallacy is the inception of nobility. Constant denial and negation of flaws only emboldens them further into one's consciousness. This is a self-destructive tactic which operates subliminally but wrecks holistically.

Letting go of what is irksome and troublesome is much harder than what logic and rationale would seem to suggest. We are almost inclined to take a fancy for worrying and thinking about such obnoxious balderdash, which bears absolutely no relevance to our well-being whatsoever. Even though it might seem odd, and also feel strange to the vast majority that is habituated to remaining tense about everything, it is perfectly acceptable to be free from the mental trash that pollutes our minds and is a severe impediment to our progress in the direction of time, i.e FORWARD.