When I was growing up, I could always tell when my father had something serious to talk about with me, because he’d ask me if I wanted to go out for a walk. He’d suggest it casually, like the idea had suddenly popped into his head, but I could always tell that he had planned it ahead of time. When I was about to leave for Kanpur, we went out for what would be the last of these talks, the one that he had prepared, I think, to launch me into adulthood. (We still go out for walks now, but we no longer have these lecture-style conversations.) On that walk he warned me. “Don’t expect,” he said, “to find your ultimate happiness in your relationships with others. God has not designed us to be fulfilled by one another; he has designed us to be fulfilled only by ourselves.”
I nodded earnestly, and in theory I agreed wholeheartedly with what he was saying, but it has taken me years to understand and appreciate that lesson. Some people say that the first year of college is the hardest. I find generalizations like that a little annoying, but in my case the first year was definitely the worst, because I was hashing out for myself the truth that doing well in education could not bring me the happiness for which we spend life searching. As I learned to turn inside for my answers, I relieved the pressure on myself, and I grew from nothing to someone who was formidable to live with.
Unfortunately, though I had learned the little lesson – that I would never be fulfilled by relationships alone – I didn’t learn the big lesson – that I will never be fulfilled by any earthly things. That truth has come upon me suddenly in the last few days, a challenge but also a life-preserver to which I cling gratefully.
“My ceaseless longing hid the deeper truth; in all my desirings, I was desiring You.” As I listened to those words, I realized that no relationship that I can have on earth, even the deepest, most loving relationships with my parents and siblings and spouse or even my own children, will ever give me what I am searching for. I will search fruitlessly until I look inside and ask from myself what I want, and I will live fruitlessly until I realize that truth in every moment.
I expect nothing. I am not afraid of getting hurt. I get hurt everyday. But since I do not acknowledge myself as hurt and do not show it off, I am not hurt. There are things people want and they geniunely believe that "them" will bring them happiness. I do not think that anything in the end can give one happiness. It's the journey which is about happiness. And though it is not happy right now, I sleep with a wish every night and I wake up with a desire every morning and though I might not be able to achieve what I set out for, I will someday make up for all I am missing.
Infact, I have realised that love means letting go and I now know what it is to let go. I know the pain and I know the emptiness. Yet, as long as "you" are happy I will continue to pretend that I am living as happily as possible.
Ending with something from Jagjit Singh:
Haath chhutey bhi to rishtey nahin chhoda karte,
Waqt ki shaakh se lamhe nahin todaa karte,
Jiski awaaz mein silwat ho, nigahon mein shikan,
Aisi tasveer ke tukde nahin jodaa karte.
Shahad jeene ka miltaa hai thodaa thodaa,
Jaanewaalon ke liye dil nahin thodaa karte,
Lag ke saahil se jo behtaa hai, usse behne do,
Aise dariyaa ka kabhi rukh nahin modaa karte.
Ab bas bahut huaa... kyoun.
Comments
And I think, I would never forsake the pursuit of happiness; I believe there's a different form of happiness even in earthly things. For instance, to love and to be loved back - as earthly as it is, I think the happiness transcends the earthly state. Call me stupid and naive if you will, but such bliss I cannot let go off.
And Jagjit Singh makes me ME.