The corpse of childhood
And here we go round and round on the
voyage of life. He crosses the mountains, the rivers ,the oceans and in the end
finds what he wanted were given at the starting of his journey. The old
man realizes as a child how jolly and imaginative he was,how everyday
was different than the other day eagerly waiting for what the next day has in
its stock, the world was a mystery to him to explore .But as he walked the path
through the civilization all traces of originality derived by him from nature
as an infant becomes corrupted by so called maturity. When happiness, violence,
anger takes a whole lot of dimension and have a permanent but nuisance effect
on the ocean of human conception. Who is more God fearing than a child? A God
who looks over any injustice, a God who will punish the evil and make the earth
a better place to be in. This God in matured form becomes for him a channel of
achieving personal selfish gains, a God bribed daily in temples mosques
churches with promises to serve him even better if one or other selfish
goal is achieved no matter if his other children gets destroyed. They fight for
racial discrimination, religious intolerance, casteism. Ask a child what are
these entities and he will have no clue, a supreme matured way to deny all
categorical divide and knowing only the ultimate goal i.e. God that looks
into every injustice ,a god that is continuously trying to make the world a
better place to flourish. They say every human has a trace of childhood deep
buried in some hidden corner of their heart. Whenever these hidden
traces confront with the reality there are rays of unselfish happiness and
pleasure but the traces are again buried soon for fear of being called
immature. The sublime flowers, the affectionate shade of trees, the lofty mountains,
the ever flowing river all has billions of memories soaked in the spirit of
those who spent their life painting their beauty looking at it mysteriously as
the child thinking beyond the road amiss where lies some strange land. Do we
look at morning sun just for once or the first drops of rain that washes the
dusty leaves or the sunset with the feathered creatures shadow on the orange
sun. A black screen of monotonous existence blinds millions of those majestic
events that passes everyday insulted by our ignorance. My conscious traces from
memory the song “have you ever seen the rain” from CCR right now and I just
ponder on the thought on when did I actually last noticed the rain alone
watching it draining the thirsty earth. I can’t remember. But soon I remember
the child waiting for the rains to come, projecting those handcrafted paper
boats on micro streams on the roads and chasing them to their end drenched at
the shower. Imagining every tiny wave and turns as mountains and valleys
through which their boat shall pass even though they have not actually seen
those mountains. There nature sits down on their soul and showers its beauty in
the form of thrill and excitement .Now my childhood has died and in its dead
rotten shell my adulthood grows feeding on decayed species of hereditary
induced ferocious inhuman elements. But there still remain vestiges of soul
from childhood that sometimes in a flash put life into the decayed corpse. I
now want to play and play again till I get exhausted and feel asleep
on the comfy pillows of infancy. I now want to laugh on silly things and
not stop till my eyes are soaked with tears .Let me be again the way I am and
accept whatever you are and if not fight with you and probably beat you or get
thrashed and forget what happened the other day.I no more want to know all
those I had learnt and let me be amazed with every sort of happenings as Bob
Seger said “I wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then”