Factory of The Mind

For years, I lived within. Some walls were there when I came, like religion, income group, nationality, etc. Others, I built. Personality, likes, competencies, ambitions, morality, etc. Walls gave me an identity. I kept building. "Who are you?", someone asked. I pointed to the walls. For years I did that. "Don't you exist on the other side also?", someone asked. "I can't view", I replied. I wondered, though. The walls were tall. I tried harder to look. Can I exist outside my identity also? And guess what! I did. At first it was amusing. But slowly the truth sunk in. If I existed within as well as outside, is the identity an illusion? It was terrifying; it still is. Then I remind myself...

In a R Tagore story, a married young woman finds herself getting attracted towards her husband's brother, who's teaching her music. Betrayal is the subject. But betrayal appears in the dictionary of the civilised not the naturalists or the artistic type. "प्यार किया नही जाता, हो जाता है।" They say. Even the civilised would say the same, if the lady was not married. The norms of civilisation don't warrant a frown if she's equally attracted or spends more time with another lady or an older person or a child or a pet or in the garden. Children enter the world ignorant of these norms, but the natural instincts are preloaded. We educate them by introducing धर्म - अधर्म, a very tailored version of respect, patriotism and  a whole world of the constitutional framework of a civilised so...

For years, I've guarded that space...MY SPACE...lest people don't get to know, don't intrude. Then one day, I asked, "What am I guarding? Why?". I stopped being the guard. But it was tough to go inside, even for me. The place had become so used to being guarded. Years later, I've only managed to get a hazy view of what lies inside... And guess what! The inside is the same...whether you enter from my door or yours!