Emotions don’t always kill the practical being in us but rather adds more reasons to one’s being. I often wonder if the choice of making the word ‘emotional’ opposite of ‘practical’ is fully correct because being emotional can be practical too. And if there is one selected thing I would have to thank God for, I would any day thank Him for setting this special radiometer in my heart. The world I see, I see it through this filter, turning pink and yellow, red and brown and all shades and tints to add value to life. And if there is anyone who feels emotions are foolish, I pity you for you have not explored that line where being foolish and intellectual has so little importance before the colours of life.
I like myself for this super-sensitive nature in me. My ride across life has always been a thrill because I chose this horse of mine to be my favorite one. A turn in the air can make me sad, a swirl in the woods can cause to be happy. Who says discard emotions to practically succeed in life? If accomplishing goals after goals being steady as a rock is what is the fruit of being practical, let me tell you my life is so much more musical with notes going ups and downs that I would discard being steady any day.
There was a photographer who shot a hungry lean child, the child died in lack of food before his eyes but his photograph was famous and it killed him day by day. He could have probably saved him leaving his camera aside…but it has always been a question if art is to change the reality or capture it.
In photography, we are dipping our nails in and a worse crime I did once. I was out with my camera during my photography course and saw a dead log lying aside. At a little distance grew a seedling young and new. I imagined a photograph shot with the theme of life and death and that every death links the chain to a new life and so carefully uprooted the baby plant and placed in the log. ‘Staging’ was the first crime I did and the worst one was while planting it back I damaged the roots. There lay a dead child with young foliage murdered by me and believe me, the pain was as bitter as chopping a hen or any living soul in that matter.
(Ermm, I am losing track again thinking why veggies are so ‘pure’ and others brutal)
Sit for an argument why love at first sight is stupid and am sure the person speaking for the motion would be laughed at. Reasons and intellect are like the motor boats making lot of noise and hovering within the confined body of water, emotions rather are like the gliding birds. They speak the same language probably as long as the bird is flying above the water but when it crosses and moves to next land the boat has only the option to make noise, hover and scorn.
It was only the first time I met him and we smiled. The cupid dragged us back again and as we shook hands the world went farther. The universal language lay its weave and through the silence emerged a conversation so long that it crossed the boundary of life. And though the entire situation shocks you with a volt of some million watts, what you realize is whether you learnt this language or not it is inbuilt by God, you never knew you knew it. And as you speak with this strange words you perfectly know that he knows it and as he replies, you clearly perceive with every comma and semi colon what he means…
God, what a wonder! If being practical I were to miss this I would rather remain a fool forever.
The lesson I learnt about this Universal language helped me further probably in music too. What I knew of raags and vistar? A hall-full of old people shaking their grey heads in classical concert was probably a good opportunity for me to observe and laugh. And then was a concert by Prabhaji, I first fell silent, then still and then danced. I danced through eternity it seemed, my every nerve turned into string and being plucked madly sent vibrations that traveled through my spine and shook my head like mad. Was I swaying my head too…there was little time for being conscious. My heart was so much dominant that day than the head above that if it wanted it could turn and twist it in any way it wants.
There was a painting that always very strangely swirled my heart. After I have grown up a little now, I searched for it in many places, typed on google with various keywords but it just seems lost. It was in a corner in the room of my fine arts teacher. Each time I went there I made it a point to stare at it and feel sad. It was a portrait of a middle-aged man with beard and long hair. His eyes were magical. So pained and quiet. One eye had a little tear about to cross the boundary and spill off but it remained held like the pain he kept held in his heart for years. And his lips quivered. I, many times observed those lips trying to know how a still image conveyed that quiver, it was just so live and powerful to transfer that unknown emotion.
I must have been foolish to have never asked about it to my teacher, but now I often think, unconsciously a wise thing was done. A piece of art if too much asked of may exceed the tag of art. May be it was just a poor farmer who was pained to have lost his land, portrayed carelessly by a painter in his leisure hour. But since I was ignorant, thankfully, I have some endless rays of bliss stored in heart. When I read about Christ I recalled that man, when I read of Chaitanya he came back too.
How would have been the expression of Buddha while he embraced the hurt swan? And who knows if Krishna ever went to woods to spill a tear in silent after he so heroically governed right and wrong…
Art is what is left over after you've defined everything. Rationalize everything and then surrender to art…a place of emotions. Being so practical, life does become smooth probably and balanced people do enjoy all rides. But what a pity for a soul who knows not art. What a pity for that heart who never looked at a thundering sky with a feeling that if death even occurs its worth dying under a marvel like that…
I had read somewhere, that life is simple enough with two options to lead it…easy and hard and the only advantage of an easy life is that it is easy enough. If being emotional is foolish and hence life hard…I would make the wisest decision any day of choosing to be a fool and learn to talk to God.