Growing up as a single child has
been a journey towards self discovery for me. My parents being very
affectionate, yet practical, always made
it very clear that everything I demanded couldn't be mine.They created a
clear distinction between unreasonable whims and firm resolves to
achieve something in life.
The lessons were sometimes subtle and sometimes very upfront and clear.
My childhood has had its own share of continuous laughter, silent
sobbing, violent protests and nuggets of wisdom from my elders, which
made it an enriching experience.
During my playtime, I would be surrounded by my toys; they helped me create a tiny world of my own. My liking towards my toys, my dresses and my room increased with with passing day and I slowly began to assume that they were mine.
Only mine.
Whenever my cousins came home, our afternoons would be spent while playing with the toys after taking them out of the showcase. The laughter, the imaginary stories and the frolic would continue with a silent fear within me. I hoped that they didn't damage, take away or throw away any of the toys. They were my toys after all.
This feeling stayed during school where 'mine' spread to books, friends, clothes etc. Engineering came in as a shocking surprise. For the first in my life, I moved out of the confines of my room, my closet and my cocoon.
The things I called my own were being shared with my roommates despite my silent reluctance. My books, my utensils etc were sometimes used by my friends and this feeling enraged me. How could they use my things? It was outrightly unfair.
Thus, I began locking my things. Even my spoon and plates. Yet, as the years passed by, the fun and frolic of hostel while having food from the same plate outweighed the grumpy feeling of sitting alone in a corner with my own things.
This was a phase of advent of social networks and the friends whom I called my own were posting pictures with their new friends.This was another rude shock for me. A phase where I learnt that unlike things, people cannot be locked out. With my idea of friendship, my mind grew up.
There were bouts of possessiveness though, where I would lose my temper at minor incidents when my things or my friends were away from me.
With my job, there was another new member in the 'mine' list. It was money.
At times, I would sincerely make a note of 'my' money and refuse to even think of getting anything for anyone. Yet, this too changed. I realized that the twinkle in someone's eyes when we gifted them something with all our heart, with love and little bit of one's salary was worth much more that the figure that one noticed while logging into one's online bank account.
Yet with my money, I was capable of buying a lot of things for myself. My books, my clothes, accessories etc; sometimes I would look at my book shelf and closet with tremendous joy, marveling over my things.
Then one night, we got a bad news. My great grandmother silently passed away in her sleep. She was an epitome of love, selflessness and grace. When I reached to pay my final respects, I overheard people saying 'Let's take the body now for cremation.'
It was a painful moment of profound realization. It occurred to me that all the time when I was getting angry, irritated, frustrated, worried and sad over the loss of my things, after the moment of my death, even my own name would not be my own anymore.
"But I will always remember her as a wonderful human being," one of ladies said with moist eyes. A tear of joy escaped my eyes as I thanked my great grandmother for teaching me an important lesson even at her death.
At the end, it won't matter how we looked, what clothes we wore, what our belongings were. We would leave everyone behind, our loved ones, our money and even our own name.
So what is it that would remain eternal for mere mortals like us?
The only place that one can call one's own would be a silent corner in someone's heart that one had touched with kindness, love and grace during one's lifetime. It is the eternal place where one would be safe even when fire or earth has engulfed them.
So, the next time you have a voice in your head telling you, 'This is mine, that is mine, only mine', think again. It is just an illusion. At the end, who you were and how you touched lives around you will matter.
You will be in those smiles that will light up the faces, after their tears have dried, long after you are gone. And that is how you will touch eternity.
CREDITS:
~Sarba
© Sarba Roy, 2014
~ The Anonymous Writer
During my playtime, I would be surrounded by my toys; they helped me create a tiny world of my own. My liking towards my toys, my dresses and my room increased with with passing day and I slowly began to assume that they were mine.
Only mine.
Whenever my cousins came home, our afternoons would be spent while playing with the toys after taking them out of the showcase. The laughter, the imaginary stories and the frolic would continue with a silent fear within me. I hoped that they didn't damage, take away or throw away any of the toys. They were my toys after all.
This feeling stayed during school where 'mine' spread to books, friends, clothes etc. Engineering came in as a shocking surprise. For the first in my life, I moved out of the confines of my room, my closet and my cocoon.
The things I called my own were being shared with my roommates despite my silent reluctance. My books, my utensils etc were sometimes used by my friends and this feeling enraged me. How could they use my things? It was outrightly unfair.
Thus, I began locking my things. Even my spoon and plates. Yet, as the years passed by, the fun and frolic of hostel while having food from the same plate outweighed the grumpy feeling of sitting alone in a corner with my own things.
This was a phase of advent of social networks and the friends whom I called my own were posting pictures with their new friends.This was another rude shock for me. A phase where I learnt that unlike things, people cannot be locked out. With my idea of friendship, my mind grew up.
There were bouts of possessiveness though, where I would lose my temper at minor incidents when my things or my friends were away from me.
With my job, there was another new member in the 'mine' list. It was money.
At times, I would sincerely make a note of 'my' money and refuse to even think of getting anything for anyone. Yet, this too changed. I realized that the twinkle in someone's eyes when we gifted them something with all our heart, with love and little bit of one's salary was worth much more that the figure that one noticed while logging into one's online bank account.
Yet with my money, I was capable of buying a lot of things for myself. My books, my clothes, accessories etc; sometimes I would look at my book shelf and closet with tremendous joy, marveling over my things.
Then one night, we got a bad news. My great grandmother silently passed away in her sleep. She was an epitome of love, selflessness and grace. When I reached to pay my final respects, I overheard people saying 'Let's take the body now for cremation.'
It was a painful moment of profound realization. It occurred to me that all the time when I was getting angry, irritated, frustrated, worried and sad over the loss of my things, after the moment of my death, even my own name would not be my own anymore.
"But I will always remember her as a wonderful human being," one of ladies said with moist eyes. A tear of joy escaped my eyes as I thanked my great grandmother for teaching me an important lesson even at her death.
At the end, it won't matter how we looked, what clothes we wore, what our belongings were. We would leave everyone behind, our loved ones, our money and even our own name.
So what is it that would remain eternal for mere mortals like us?
The only place that one can call one's own would be a silent corner in someone's heart that one had touched with kindness, love and grace during one's lifetime. It is the eternal place where one would be safe even when fire or earth has engulfed them.
So, the next time you have a voice in your head telling you, 'This is mine, that is mine, only mine', think again. It is just an illusion. At the end, who you were and how you touched lives around you will matter.
You will be in those smiles that will light up the faces, after their tears have dried, long after you are gone. And that is how you will touch eternity.
CREDITS:
~Sarba
© Sarba Roy, 2014
~ The Anonymous Writer
:)
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