Monday, February 11, 2008

Mother O Mine

If I were hanged on the highest hill,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

I know whose love would follow me still,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

If I were drowned in the deepest sea,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

I know whose tears would come down to me,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

If I were damned of body and soul,
I know whose prayers would make me whole,
Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

Rudyard Kipling

“Mother” ; the most sacred of all relations; the most beautiful of all relations a being ever had.

I still have a clear memory of a chapter in our english book which had this russian story titled My mother is the most beautiful women on earth.The story was about a little girl who gets lost in the harvest season and doesn’t know the name of her parents nor the address to her house. The only thing she tells people is that her mother is the most beautiful woman on earth. All the beautiful woman are paraded in front of her and she refuses to identify them and when finally she does identify her mother she turns out to exactly the opposite of all expectations.Not the most beautiful; but the most common and unnoticeable lady in the village. But then to her child she was the most beautiful lady on earth.

How true and how simple? For every child the first face he sees; the first touch is the most beautiful person on earth. The same stands true for me. As I look back at life and devour the moments spent ; just flashes my mind the best time spent were not with my girlfriend nor my friends….the best moments were the moments spent with my mother….trying to convince her of all actions incorrect….watching her take my side well aware of the fact that I was wrong….rejoice at my successes and flinch at my failures.Those were the moments which shaped my life and made me what I am today.

She taught me that all fingers of a hand were not the same and as I grow up today I see the corelation in the analogy in context of the society,people, religion and so many more things.Philosophies no book ever will teach; preparing her son for the outside world I suppose.There is so much more to a mother than the daily chores she performs. A teacher, a guide, a friend,a massiah!

I am here today far away from here Distances between us. Distances we didn’t create. Distances created by situations and the fact that we live in a world where relationships are still dictated by society. Know the fact that if she sees me she will surely be proud of the fact that I have lived up to her principles and values, resent the fact that I am still scared of sleeping in the dark, proud of the fact that I did survive all alone in this world.

Am confused, not knowing what I am typing ? just a whole gammut of emotions running through me. May be dying to be Mumma's boy all over again.......

Loneliness or is it Solitude???

Definations
lone·ly
play_w("L0237700")
(l n l )
adj. lone·li·er, lone·li·est
1.
a. Without companions; lone.
b. Characterized by aloneness; solitary.


sol·i·tude
play_w("S0550600")
(s l -t d , -ty d )
n.
1. The state or quality of being alone or remote from others.


Lonliness and Solitude; have been pondering over these two words for quite some time. It has been a debate raging within to define my current state of life. Am I lonely ? Or is it Solitude? People around me think I am lonely whilst I argue am in my solitude.
Per me being lonely is a being away from people you love and being in solitude is being away from the people you desist. I lead a life which wanders on the thin edge dividing those. To people around me they assume me being lonely given my failed relationship and absence of a famiily around me. But then my relationship never failed just that it never worked out. Social obligations and situations as I call them was made them fall apart.Or perhaps I am wrong…..lest I take umbrage in being ignorant.

In solitude I remain
with absolutely nothing to gain;
perhaps in time I will be strong!
Solitude is not my favourite song
A solitary place Is not where I belong
Read my lips and trace the lines on my face
You see! Solitude is not my favourite song
But social isolation Combined with social manipulation
Places me once again in solitude You see!
Solitude is not my preferred attitude
This isn’t a journey of spiritual enlightenment
As some people might say to my resentment
But in great loneliness of this magnitude
I must find some self awareness in solitude
I must find strength and pretend
That everyone around me is my friend
To put this state of scale of elevation to an end
I must pretend,
I must pretend
That even Solitude is my friend

~ Sylvia Chidi