The Heart of Giving

My child and I were in the middle of scanning her toy basket for giving away some toys to our domestic help, for her grandson.  This is a regular activity; her dresses, especially, go away to some children at the roadside temporary shacks, to the auto drivers or the domestic helps.

“Amma, give away this doll, I do not like it anymore” said my child.  I, with all the detachment philosophy I could master, preached, “Come on, the real satisfaction of giving is when you give away something which you like, which you are attached to.”

To that, my baby picked up her Indian-Barbie doll and said, immediately, ‘Then let us give away this”.

It was my chance to be upset now; all the inflated Buddha-ism of sacrifice was out, as if someone had pricked in a pin into my ego!  I was shocked. I had bought that particular Indian Barbie for my daughter, online, shelling out about ` 800 for that doll and it was just about few months ago. I explained to my child that this doll was not okay for a little child since its long synthetic hair may chock him and that is how I saved the doll and kept at home.

But my child had shown me my mirror image.  I wondered, where did all my preaching about letting go, vanish?

I once got a phone call from my dear friend who had to lighten her heavy heart, she said.  She had just viewed a photograph of her ex-boy friend with his wife.  What disturbed her mostly, was that he was holding his wife’s hands very affectionately.  It has been 20 years that they had parted ways, very amicably and they had remained good friends. She told me that she never had imagined that even after 20 years, the photograph of her ex holding his wife’s hands would cause such turmoil!  She felt  cheated, again and her wounds bled fresh! She felt those hands belonged only to her!

Had not she let go off her past, even after 20 years, even after she was a happy lady with a very happy family and three sweet kids?

How does a person let go? How does one forgive and how does one forget?

I remember reading a book where the author says that the mind saves its first memories.  It does not apply logic.  When my friend was with her ex, the mind knew they were together for life.  Any new developments in her life and new entrants were unsaved files as far as mind was concerned.  She and he belonged to each other; that was it!

The book also talked about using rituals to let go.  For example, the author herself actually throws her previous wedding ring into fire before saying she said ‘Yes’ to her new partner.  Her previous marriage had been an utter failure and she had found a real partner in her new man but she was unable to say yes to any kind of long time commitment, marriage, to be precise.

When memories are left lingering in the air, those bubbles tend to return and hit us softly.  Do we need to prick them, burst them to bring us back to the reality?

The biggest letting go I have done in my life was let my father go.  No, not that we could anyway hold him back.  We are only pawns in the game of providence.  But sitting beside my ailing father, I prayed the Almighty to do what is best, for Almighty knows what is best.  My mother and my brother did the same, they said.  And my father left for the heavenly abode, never to be with us in the body he had received during this birth.

And in no time, we believed, heart and soul that he was no more.

People depart or leave our lives but memories remain.  Mind is a selective memory keeper and some of these feed our emotions times and again.  Memories feed our need for that sheer joy of pain, sheer satisfaction of sorrow, the pleasure of self-pity and sometimes feeling of helplessness.

And yes, it has no logic…….

At times most illogical repentance, grievance, house in the most logical hearts and minds.   Even after my father long gone, I feel helpless when an incidence surfaces my memory.

While traversing the long hot and windy lands of Gujarat once, my father wanted to have some Sprite to cool off.  Always vigilant about his diabetes status, I asked him not to and he immediately complied. But I keep telling myself that this man was tired and thirsty and he really needed that but should have I let him have his cold drink or was I right in caring for the diabetes? It has no logic; at least, no logic any more since the person concerned is no more.  But this guilt, I could never let off. Even within an hour of his death, I cried, saying that I did not put some water into his mouth at the last moment.  My neighbors told me that being a science student, I should not feel guilty of such things but then, what has heart to do with science!  For months to come I would dream of my father asking for water and that dream no more comes to me.  Many would have many interpretations of that dream, I have never asked anyone but I only know that illogical guilt of not letting him have that cold drink still has a place in my mind, I have not let go off it!

Travel light, they say. How light? What is the measure?  Lightness has not measure, weight has. 

Most of us have a clear account of what WE have done for others and what OTHERS have NOT done for us. Spiritual texts says in charity, one hand should never be aware of what the other gives away . “Neki kar, dariya mein daal”. 

I had read somewhere, “In fights, never bring up the past”.  And how true is that.  Fight, don’t sulk, fight fairly, fight about today, they say.  Let go off some baggage, in day to day basis…..or else the travel will be too tough.

But, then, while travelling, we need some food and water.  Those are the lessons we learn, which we need for safe keep.

So, while I am not travelling empty, questions linger my mind.  Even when I think I have forgotten, forgiven, how much have I done that?  Am I so graceful? No, I don’t think I am.

So, while my good friend still sulks at the photograph of her ex and I still bear the guilt about my father, I am happy that my thoughts have at least travelled to this path and one day I may be more graceful in throwing away unwanted baggage’s in some unknown well, never to be dig again.

Happy travelling to myself….

 Photo: from internet