It is hard to believe that there was a time when I loved everyone, hated none, smiled when others smiled and cried when others cried, didn’t discriminate, everything I did was a joy to others, and led an uncomplicated worry-free life.
I believed that everyone and everything was good and didn’t know malice.
I had a lot of restrictions though. I was not allowed to walk out into the street. My food, my dress, and everything that I used…. nothing was of my choice. But I didn’t mind.
The world was such a nice place to live in. But I didn’t know that I was destined to change… very shortly. After all, I was a child.
When I grew and went to school, my sense of logic did weird things to me. I loved some, hated some, smiled when others cried, thought what I liked was good and that I disliked was bad, that white is right and black is wrong, big is better and small is not… and what not. I used to dream with eyes open, much to the dismay of my teachers. Very soon my lessons said “all humans are brethren”, but the newspapers talked of an enemy. I learnt to disbelieve what I read.
When I was more by myself, I started avoiding those that advised me and started hanging around those that encouraged my deeds. I started thinking that I should be the lord of all that I survey. I judged others but didn’t realise that others judged me too. I thought others judge me by what I possess. I thought it would be nice to have a bike or a car. I tried to show in my world that I am popular. I enjoyed visiting a vanity salon that charged me in hundreds but I bargained with the auto-rickshaw for five.
When I tasted financial independence, I behaved as if those that are less affluent are another species. I liked to move with the affluent. But I didn’t like it when the more affluent did it. I enjoyed tipping the five-star bearer a 3-digit note, but didn’t think the beggar that tapped at my car’s window is worth a coin.
Along the way I had friends who died, met with accidents, went broke, fell terminally ill. I choose to think that I am not prone. Today, as a full blown adult, weared down by my own contradictions, I am led to think that most of what I learnt may need to be unlearned.
Why was I happier as a child? I think I know, but I am conditioned not to acknowledge.
I agree with John Betjeman. The hour of reason is dark…. pitch dark.
