FACING THE TRUTH



Do we? Or rather...can we face certain truths in our life? Arent there some truths about ourselves that bother us? And these truths are not very profound ones....they are not the ones we discuss at various social forums and innovative gatherings....they are the ones we tend to sweep under that very secretive rug of ours. A rug that we have woven very carefully and one which has many minute folds where we keep a part of our incomplete personalities. I am in the process of unfolding those carefully resting aspects of my personality and facing MY naked me. Stark. Dormant but volcanic.They have been adding up over the years. It will take time to unravel them.But unravel I must. For my sane survival. I can create an utopia for others about myself...but how do I fool my own inner self? Have I been a good son? NO. Have I been a good brother, friend, student, master or person where I can proudly hold my head high and walk with the swagger that I so arrogantly exhibit? NO. Have I comforted my mother each time she needed it or did I do it only when I could find the time? Did I honour my teachers who so compassionately tried to help ME become a better human being? Did I teach anything to ANYONE to the best of my abilities? Did I LEARN anything to the best of my abilities?
The answer to such questions and more is a resounding NO. And today....All I have left is that rug. Even that is worn out because of the mangle beneath. So I have to be very careful while reversing the process. I want to do away with that rug. Forever. I want to face MY truth. Only then can I survive. I want to hold my mother's hand and comfort her. Thats ALL she needs. Thats all she EVER needed. It was ME who thought otherwise. I made the stories. I created the theories. SHE never did. All she ever actually meant was...'can you hold my hand from time to time as I reach the twilight of my life son? Its getting darker nowadays...the days seem less bright and the nights more daunting...I get scared at times...but then I think of you and my strength returns.' And then she blesses her son. With a heart larger than God's....with more love than an ocean can hold water, and with a kindness which would make an angel blush. She gives everything and has MORE to give. And all she asks is for her son to hold her hand. A hand which carved out a LIFE for her son asks him for a few moments of that enormous lifetime . She asks for far lesser and we have lesser than that to give. I want to give my mother those moments because my life is the MOST precious giftwrapped possession that I have...and SHE is the one who gave it to me.....and now all she is asking for is a few bits of that wrapping paper which held my life together and secured me against all the storms in my life. Yes.... I am cleaning my rug. I can already see the gift wrapping paper...I intend to give all of it to her.Only, this time, I want to wrap My life in it and gift it to HER. And after that..... I want to reach out to anyone and everyone and apologise for any action of mine which has caused them discomfort. I want to say thank you to my teachers for tirelessly imparting knowledge. I want to thank every soul that touched me...every flower that made me smile, every road that took me to my destination, every tree that shaded me in the heat, every sunrise that welcomed me, every moonlit night that made me sing, every star which made me twinkle. I just want to say Thank You. Thank you all for cherishing me INSPITE of me. Thank You.

Jai Walia