Reading Maketh a Full Man (An Essay)

---------------------This essay was written by me as a part of 'Global Essay Competition' held at Tata Consultancy Services. This write-up was awarded as the 3rd best essay. ---------------------

Some two thousand years ago, when kings were still finding it difficult to control their extending kingdoms, a text appeared in India which expounded statecraft, elucidated economic policies and rationalized defense of a country. This text served as the reference to the great empires of India for more than twelve hundred years and is known across the world as ‘Arthashastra’. One can only marvel the immense wisdom of words and how they reflect the same on each generation of kingdoms, states and mankind.

Though many today argue that internet has revolutionized the way knowledge is delivered, books still remain the favorite where matured reading is concerned. But both these mediums serve a common purpose of enlightening a man of his achievements and all that’s still left to be achieved. Reading these great works of history, epics, science and literature, man can only feel a sense of awe in how little he knows. And to quench his interest, he reads more.

With reading, a person learns to absorb facts and self evaluate the issues. Regular reading habit helps improve personality and broadens the horizon of thinking. Reading can be done as an activity of leisure, as a tool to attain knowledge or as a weapon of wisdom. An activity of leisure will get the person into the drawing room of rich with  monotonous laughter while knowledge will make him a perfectionist but it is with wisdom that he can truly call  himself a ‘full man’. Only people who draw conclusions out of what they read and then comprehend are really able to appreciate perception.

Intelligence could well be considered as one of the most misunderstood words. Sometimes it is confused with experience and some other times with mere understanding. But history proves that it is not man with simple knowledge who made a difference but men who had the courage to instrument that idea. These men or scholars or revolutionaries were not necessarily intelligent but ferocious for intelligence and were often inspired by their peers in literature and science. While Lenin was inspired by the writings of Karl Marx, James Maxwell introduced classical electromagnetic theory based upon the works of Faraday.                                                             

The reason behind man being the most sophisticated animal is his curiosity. It is necessary to satisfy his hunger of knowledge, if he is not to return to being an animal again. He has to read and learn to develop objective thinking and then implement it's conclusion for the progress of society and self. For a 'full man', reading could also be  considered as a way into a variety of complex problems but with a promise of an exit door which leads him, just like  Lenin and Maxwell, to being a man of wisdom and a man of free will.    

With Night and Darkness

I am not afraid of the dark because with darkness comes dreams...

Many before me have wondered the secret behind dreams and though any logical explanation is immaterial to the context, I would go with the popular belief that dreams are nothing but our innermost fears, our utmost desires and passions. Dreams are our own reflection in a very dusty mirror where even we didn’t dare look before. Dreams sometimes can be a way into the future or a reminder of the past and sometimes the horrors of present. And how we all love to live in these mirage of whirling emotions called dreams.

One such dark...

I flew across the deserts and saw life originating from sand. I travelled across the oceans to watch mermaids singing songs of love. I traversed continents with no borders. I was a spirit travelling the temples of India, mosques of Arabia and cathedrals in Italy. I talked to Buddha and listened to Krishna as they told me how beautiful the world is and how wonderful its creations are and that’s when, in a world of free will, I realized I was a writer.

I filled papers with black inks writing stories no-one read, poems none understood and words that haunted me all the time. I wrote about people I knew would hate me some day. I wrote about animals who I knew did not care. And I wrote about myself when I knew I will be dead in another few years. And still I wrote, pages after pages like a crazy person who got happiness in scribbling and tearing paper after paper. But tonight was different somehow, may be because it was a dark night or may be because I had finally discovered why I felt this crazy happiness.
 

And so with a smile, I looked around me and saw...I saw a world full of hope, a world where energy buzzed in the air like siren, a place where love prevailed, an impossible land where trees spoke words of wisdom to each other and wind sang melodies unheard. I saw a world free of pollution and untouched by corruption. I saw children playing in the mud, women saying prayer for the family and men returning home with hard-earned bread. And all these humans habiting this world had one precious gift – courage; courage to make dreams come true; and I knew that all those Gods who spoke to me were right. This world was indeed a beautiful place.

I saw my own house. I saw my reflection in the mirror which mercifully showed me sleeping peacefully. I went towards my study. I saw all the books I had collected over the years. Paper-backs and hard-backs of all dimensions, witness to the huge knowledge man-kind possessed and still lacked. I saw a small shelf with books written by me. I could see my name etched on every book in gold letters. But I was looking for one particular book I had written when I was still young. It was a book on dreams. It said something I couldn’t really remember now. I saw it stacked neatly in the middle. I picked it up. There it was, written right there on the first page. I touched those words and felt happiest beyond anything because these were my words – “Dreams are born in the night just to die in the morning. So in some ways dreams are just - born to be dead”

That’s when I woke up and continued being an engineer......and dreamt again and again of being a writer.

Over a Coffee

They must have read ‘A Lot Can Happen over a Coffee’ when they entered the dimly lit Cafe Coffee Day that lazy afternoon...

The girl looked hip in a lose white shirt, high pony and a lot of junk jewellery on her hands. The boy was tall with a simple black t-shirt, rugged jeans and spiked hairs. “College kids bunking classes,” I thought as I enjoyed a black forrest.

They both sat at chair opposite each other and ordered two cappuccinos. The girl must have said something funny because they both started laughing and talking loud suddenly. They were making fun of a couple in their college. And while laughing, the boy suddenly said, “You know what Maya, I think I love you.”

I watched as the silence from the girl filled the room. And then after some time, “Emm...Even I love you,” she said shrugging. They stood, went upto the couch and sat close together in firm approval of their recent relationship. As if to prove his point the boy put an arm around her neck. I believe they ordered one iced-tea and sipped it from the same glass as well.

Later, they walked out of the glass door (the boy paid, ofcourse) and I saw them standing there in the sun-light with their backs towards me. Their outline shone in the brilliant sun and reflected in the glass mirror of CCD. In that one captured moment, they were the most beautiful couple for me in the world.

“Modern Love,” I thought and continued my black forrest.

Last Night

Last night he – danced in the rain, laughed insane, drank like crazy, cried like a kid, blacked out and then puked...

Chapter 1:  Danced in the Rain

He was never a crazy person. He was someone we called – ‘living by the books’... But he loved chicken and was ready in a jiff when we planned to check out this new ‘grilled-chick’ joint in the town. I know he was talking to his girl-friend when we boarded the bus. How did I know? Just his expressions. No one else noticed ofcourse.

The status of our city had been – ‘too hot to handle’ for a very long time. I suppose (which I will later realize) that everything in ‘cosmos’ has its own reason. But how these chain of events are linked to us – we cannot say. And that’s why we were all surprised when the storm started. It started with the wind and then we noticed little droplets falling on the mirror of our bus, reflecting the light from in-coming vehicles.

You won’t believe me but I can swear that it started raining heavily the moment he stepped out of the bus. The food joint was half miles from the stop. We looked for a shelter and waited about five minutes when he said, “Let’s go” and started walking in the rain. “Adventure,” we all thought and followed him.

He was walking ahead of us. Alone. It was mesmerizing to watch his shadow forming strange patterns in the street light with the rain blurring his image. And then he started raising his hands. We all watched amused as he raised his hands above his head, did a round-turn and danced. He was humming a tune I cannot really remember. And then with his hands still raised above him, he looked up facing the falling water.

 Chapter 2:  Laughed Insane

He looked back at us. “I want to drink today,” he said.

Immediate plans were laid out to arrange the booze and get the chicken packed. While one went to get the food packed, the other ran in the direction of drinks. I looked for a shelter whereas he still stood in the rain watching. I later wondered what he might have been thinking.

I cannot really say what prompted him – but he started laughing. He looked at me and I smiled back with no idea why I was. He took a step back and almost got hit by the bus. “What the hell are you doing?” I went upto him and shouted. Completely drenched in the rain, he kept a hand on my shoulder as if reassuring me and started laughing again. I smiled besides myself. And then we both laughed  - for no reason at all. “What the heck, we are all crazy,” I thought. “What was he thinking?” is a question I pondered much later.

Chapter 3:  Drank like Crazy

The sweet bitter smell of whisky filled our nostrils as we filled one peg after another. I saw him sitting in the circle listening to all the stupid things we did in college and how those days would never come back. He listened to how we used to chase girls, bunk classes, play counter-strike late in the nights and got high for no reason at all.

And he kept drinking...

Chapter 4:  Cried Like a Kid

There are various phases one could experience while talking and drinking with friends. The first phase will usually start with – ‘cheers’. After some time it will come down to loud music and chatter. But when all this dies down and Pink Floyd starts taking over, I can swear I have heard things which in broad daylight, anyone would be embarrassed about.

It was during this phase that one of our friends was telling us about how he had lied at home and travelled the length of India just to meet a girl. He talked about those happy times - watching movies, laughing for no reason at all, holding each other’s hand and saying nothing and then his break-up.  

I guess people get more sentimental when they are drunk. May be that’s why I saw tears in his eyes. I am his friend. I should have asked him what was wrong. But then it is just this phase. “It will pass,” I thought and took a sip of whisky.

Chapter 5:  Blacked Out

I am sorry I almost forgot about the last phase...

“This thing what’s-it-called...Yeah Facebook...It’s it’s killing me. I am going to throw away this laptop,” he said as he swung his laptop with one hand almost sending it flying across the window. We had to convince him that FB is actually a social organization helping poor kids. So instead he opened FB – abused a few people, changed his status to married (which he regretted in the morning after a call from his girlfriend).

He stood, laughed over something and fell on the bed again, completely wasted.

Chapter 6: Puked.......

I saw him today morning. His room stank and he was snoring with vomit all over the floor. I should have been disgusted. I wasn’t, though. Instead I thought...

Here is a guy who slept in puke, cried like a kid, drank like crazy, laughed insane and danced in the rain. He is the guy who experienced happiness, the sheer joy of freedom, sadness, pain, ecstasy in just one night. And then, may be, he puked to let it all go just to experience one thing we never get – peace.

I am sure he won’t remember a thing when he wakes up. But I will always remember how he lived an entire lifetime in just one night. And to think of it, it was just last night.

Bed-Time Story : A very very short story

In very near future...

A little boy goes upto his mother and says, “Mom! Tell me a bed-time story so I can sleep”

The mother removes her I-pod, sets her chat status as ‘be-right-back’ and says, “But son, you can always you-tube them!”

“I can’t sleep with that you-tube story mom!”

The mother, bewildered replies, “Come son, then let’s just Google 10-best-ways-to-have-sound-sleep-while-watching-you-tube-story”

She changed her status from ‘be-right-back’ to ‘busy’. 


Nothing comes above a child’s bed-time story.