Mysteries are not necessarily miracles but they make that iota of spark which triggers your imagination and set it into leaps. The curious case of human mind is that it works ardently to unfurl the mystery. As soon as it sees something that it does not understand well, it becomes aggravated. To appease its aggravation, the mind, then, starts to put down the pieces of the puzzle together to get the clear picture. The question however is - Is it really always necessary to get a clear picture? Can we not let some things stay mysterious always? Does every question have to be sufficed with an answer? And, is a mystery solved as charming as a mystery unsolved?
When I was young, my mother often took me to the Tibetan Markets to buy us some cheap winter wool. While she would look for sweaters, I would invariably stand with my glare fixed at those puny pathways that led to the houses of the Tibetans. Those small, bricked and inappropriately built houses held the charm of the world to me. They still do because those houses nurture a lifestyle that is unknown to me. I would stand their imagining how those Tibetans lived in the small houses where privacy seemed an alienated concept and sharing lives seemed the only answer. I had created a world of my own that moved inside those houses like the way I wanted it move. However, deep inside, I knew that I would be disappointed if I ever walked inside those doors. The bitterness of reality would crush the sweetness of my imagination. So, I never did. All I chose to do was stand outside the door and imagine how life moved inside it. I will never open the doors.
Yesterday, while shopping for groceries in a tiny jam packed street on Railway Road, I came across an old man with haggard grey hair, battered brown skin, grey cataract eyes, sitting in his wooden “khoka”, selling all kinds of “parchuni” to an otherwise uninterested and indifferent world. Our eyes met and as soon I looked into his, a hundred questions popped up in my mind. Where does this man live? Does he have any children? If yes, where are they and why do they let him run the shop (clearly, he was quite old for any occupation but comfort)? Is his wife dead? What does he do when he gets home? Within minutes, I was filled with a kind of curiosity that only answers could have satisfied. Did I question the old man? Did I satisfy my curiosity? No. Why? Because, more often than not, things that we begin to understand, begin to lose their charm.
When I was young, my mother often took me to the Tibetan Markets to buy us some cheap winter wool. While she would look for sweaters, I would invariably stand with my glare fixed at those puny pathways that led to the houses of the Tibetans. Those small, bricked and inappropriately built houses held the charm of the world to me. They still do because those houses nurture a lifestyle that is unknown to me. I would stand their imagining how those Tibetans lived in the small houses where privacy seemed an alienated concept and sharing lives seemed the only answer. I had created a world of my own that moved inside those houses like the way I wanted it move. However, deep inside, I knew that I would be disappointed if I ever walked inside those doors. The bitterness of reality would crush the sweetness of my imagination. So, I never did. All I chose to do was stand outside the door and imagine how life moved inside it. I will never open the doors.
Yesterday, while shopping for groceries in a tiny jam packed street on Railway Road, I came across an old man with haggard grey hair, battered brown skin, grey cataract eyes, sitting in his wooden “khoka”, selling all kinds of “parchuni” to an otherwise uninterested and indifferent world. Our eyes met and as soon I looked into his, a hundred questions popped up in my mind. Where does this man live? Does he have any children? If yes, where are they and why do they let him run the shop (clearly, he was quite old for any occupation but comfort)? Is his wife dead? What does he do when he gets home? Within minutes, I was filled with a kind of curiosity that only answers could have satisfied. Did I question the old man? Did I satisfy my curiosity? No. Why? Because, more often than not, things that we begin to understand, begin to lose their charm.
Finding answers is a choice and not a compulsion. Though it is important to unravel the truth, it is also important to celebrate mystery. Close your eyes and witness your life in flashes and you will realize that a major part of our life’s three hour edited version is made of those moments which were unexplained, unexpected, uncelebrated, unfamiliar, unrevealed, unsung or untold. So, in your quest to seek answers, learn to celebrate the questions that do not have an answer.
Next time, you see a woman who absolutely scintillates your senses, do not run to her. Simply, capture her scintillations. Next time, you come across a place that seems heaven, do not try and carry it back with you. Simply, capture the beauty. Next time, you feel you are losing someone and nothing you do seem to bring them back, do not question the happening. Simply, capture the fight that you fought. Next time, you get a feeling that you cannot understand, do not try to understand it. Simply, capture the feel. And the next time you feel you do not understand life, do not try to understand it. Simply, begin to live it.
Next time, you see a woman who absolutely scintillates your senses, do not run to her. Simply, capture her scintillations. Next time, you come across a place that seems heaven, do not try and carry it back with you. Simply, capture the beauty. Next time, you feel you are losing someone and nothing you do seem to bring them back, do not question the happening. Simply, capture the fight that you fought. Next time, you get a feeling that you cannot understand, do not try to understand it. Simply, capture the feel. And the next time you feel you do not understand life, do not try to understand it. Simply, begin to live it.
If understanding some things is important, not trying to understand some other things is also equally important. Just to be, is blessing. Just to live is holy.
beautiful.. :)
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