As I attended a session yesterday on feminism and surmounting abuse, I kept thinking of mom. Everyday that I go out and try to reclaim a bit of space for me, enter an uncharted territory where I am not welcome or speak up about women’s rights, I am following in her giant footsteps.
Expectations – Buddhism believes that they are the cause of great suffering. The expectation that your friends will always remain your friends, that they will be loyal to you, that the feeling of companionship will remain to the same extent over time.
Life is all about twists and turns. My mom had four brothers and two sisters. All of them were poles apart from each other and landed up in very different situations.
As a friend recently advised me: imagine that you were your own best friend. What if you saw your friend struggling like this, what advice would you give as a well-wisher? Would you tell them to continue or quit or change their way of working?
Death, to me, is baffling. It’s the most ambiguous event ever. While it’s final in a way few things are, it also leaves a lot to be explained, to be made sense of.
As a child, I couldn’t wait to grow up. It was like the golden land, a place where you could decide important things, like whom to live with and what you wanted to do.
I don’t know if it is the right thing to do to stop someone from expressing the enormity of their sorrow, I think not. But that’s often the advice doled out by society.
We hold on to the images we have of our parents and imagine that they will be around forever in that form. But times change, and each day brings them and us closer to the final journey.
We edit incidents to benefit our ego and perceptions. And in this way, we are not really creatures of reason, no matter how much we claim to be so.
Dad mentioned ‘rin’, the Bengali word for debts that we carry from birth to birth, which have to be fulfilled. Considering all that mom lost and faced, I hope, in her next life, she starts with a clean slate and her debts are truly over.