Independence Or Freedom?

Freedom and Independence have been used interchangeably and also occur as each others synonyms, but they do not necessarily mean the same thing. Are we really free when we are independent? Or are we really independent when we are free? The hairline difference between the two is a matter of discussion for everyone. Independence is being self dependent, being able to rise on your own feet. It means that that you have your own responsibility and your own dilemmas to solve.


Freedom means liberation which may lead us to think that it is the same as independence. In reality, the two words have different meanings and applications. Independence is somewhat binding, whereas freedom is full liberation. Independence demands a certain responsible behavior where you alone are responsible and answerable to your own  life. Freedom is complete liberty without any constraint whatsoever. 


When we celebrate India's Independence Day, we rejoice and feel freedom in our hearts. That feeling is the freedom we want to have, the liberated state we want to be in, not the one we are in, currently. Has our independence given us the freedom we all crave for? Or has our liberated thoughts and unconstrained life lead to independence? As a matter of thought, I personally feel that we choose our own ways, whether it is to be independent enjoying all the responsibility or to be liberated with a carefree eye on the future. So, when we celebrate Independence Day next year, we should be able to demarcate what we actually are celebrating, our independence or our freedom.

Numb

I walk down the streets all my by myself. I look no further beyond what is necessary. I enter the supermarket at 9 pm and walk down. I grab a packet of cupcakes and some Lindt and pay. I move out into the street and find myself with no umbrella and a heavy dose of rainfall. I decide to wait outside under the shelter. I try to cover myself from all sides and instantly, my chocolate bar falls to the ground. Disgusted, I bend down to pick it up and with that, I accidentally, pick up some of my previously dropped memories too.

It was raining heavily that day. Thunder and lightening, it had not paused for over a few days now. There was no grocery in the kitchen and we had been surviving on left-overs. As our last cup of coffee and a packet of biscuits were on the verge of finishing, he told me, "On my way to the supermarket, come back before you know it."

And he came back, all soaked up with loads of food stuff. That day was one of the last times we enjoyed. After exactly seven days and eighteen hours, I was sitting next to his body wrapped up in cheap linen on the empty road in the never-ending rain. That was my last day in the city. I moved out as soon as his funeral was over. I answered no calls and nobody called me thereafter. I could not feel myself, it felt as if my heart was numb too. My blood had frozen and I could no longer speak or move. I stayed alone in my new flat with my books. I read a lot and wrote a little. I did not know when I fell asleep or when I woke up. I hardly looked at my watch as I was afraid it would show me the time of his death. Things started to get better when a guitarist moved up to the floor above mine. His guitar kept me engaged and it gave me a good night's sleep. But apart from having less baggy eyes, nothing had changed. I lived the same old life with same old grudges from life.

I pick up that chocolate bar and pretend that nothing earth shattering has happened a few years ago. I walk down the street, getting soaked, bringing home some food. That is what he did for me years back. I climb the stairs, the water dripping from my clothes and hair. I reach my flat and look for the key. The door opens up and I see a man with a guitar looking at me in total surprise. I was about to say something as I saw the room number which meant I had reached his floor. I was taken aback at my own stupidity when he took things from me and asked me where I lived. I point out towards the ground and follow him downstairs. 

This was the first time I had seen a person since 5 years. The minute I spoke to him, I didn't stop for hours. After I was done with my story, he told me he was one of the reporters back then when the accident took place and ever since he always wanted to cover my story. But now, that he has got one, he does not want it any more. He looks at me with life shouting out to me and I have smiling eyes for the first time. I hear his guitar playing again.

Re-Dilli

Red light at Aurobindo Marg.
"Didi, ek rupiya de do na." One of the girls start dancing to the dholak beats amidst the traffic and pollution. Her fragile hands on her waist, her face expressionless. Her rouge covered cheeks trying to cover the leftover tear stains from last night. Tears that had formed tributaries on her dust clad face. Behind all the show business lies a bunch of children trying to make a living.

Aren't we all trying to do the same, some with more rouge and some with less. But ultimately we all put some makeup and go there and make a living. Our real need is to live, amidst all the theatrical ambiance and decoupaged masks. We lose ourselves in the search of making a living.

I think about Delhi and think about what has it given me. Maybe, a mask or a red-colored rouge to cover up my real self and get out there and face reality.

Has it really made me strong? Has it really given me what I craved for? Or has it increased my craving? Has it been responsible for my newly acquired unlimited wants. Has it really taught me something or has it separated me from everything I knew. Many unanswered questions, answers unhidden.

A simple incident on a red light at around 10 am in the morning made me rethink about my entire life and rediscover myself from scratch. Maybe, that is what she has really given me.

A chance, a way to discover that I have a life. Maybe, she has given me the freedom to give it a second thought. To life.

Little Dreams

As the day bids farewell and the night proceeds to take over, I sat alone in an empty basketball court and ponder over my life. All these days I had been so busy with work, home and had not even a minute to myself. I think about all the lovely days and the ugly ones that have made me what I am today. I look at the orange horizon and smell the warm air which immediately rejuvenates me.

I think about my life and where I had started from. I always used to crib and complain about my life being unfair. And now, I laugh at my past self and take the criticism and the compliment equally. Every day I lived my life has made me stronger and I couldn't ask for more. All this while I had been busy working and struggling with my emotions, but now its the time to fulfill those little dreams which mean a lot to me. Those sweet little dreams which I had been saving for this while and now I can convert them into reality. Now all of them can really come true. As I watched the birds returning to their places at dusk, I thought I should also make a move. I stood up and looked at the vacant court and the empty net, and smiled. 

It was finally time for new beginnings, new hopes, new dawns. It was time for realizing dreams ans more importantly, it was time for dreaming about something new altogether.

Limited Unlimited

A very vague thought surfaces itself when I think about my present life. Its as if my life had just swept off my feet and sent me a a notification later on, saying that it had gone forever this time. Sometimes when such life-churning things happen, I often feel offended by life. I feel as though I have been cheated on by life. It comes to me as a day-mare and almost instantly everything I built is gone within seconds. I had built a castle in the sand and one day it just vanished. It flew away from me and told me it was just a random dream which couldn't come true. This is what makes me feel that life is so unlimited yet so limited. It does not always mean that we do not spend time with life. It means that in that limited amount of time, we should live and love our lives. We should experience the good and the bad, the rough and the smooth, all together and emerge out as a person who is holistic in every approach. So, get up and live your lives as much as you can.

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The Smell of Color

I sat down to paint. This was my first time after six long months. I had not seen paints, pencils in a pretty long time. I was afraid to touch them, feel them again. I still remember when I sat with colors for long hours, felt them and enjoyed their company. The very smell of them enticed me to play with them in a whole new way. I spread my cartridge sheet on the floor and took out my colors. I waited for the blank sheet to say something to me. I stared at it for some time until I could see birds flying and hear the sound of water gurgling. I picked up red color and mixed it with blue to create a purple hue. The purple touched the sheet and gave me energy to create new shades. I splashed a watery deep blue and dropped pink on it. I let the sheet dry and started again on another one. 


For the second one I dipped my fingers in Prussian Blue color, put it on the sheet and let the color flow from one edge of the sheet to another. The dark blue color slowly transformed itself into a lighter blue. I quickly made the ground with blue fingers and spread them with nails. When I dipped my finger into the glass bottle of the blue paint, I closed my eyes and let myself dream. I felt I was in ecstasy. The blue color melted on my finger and looked delicious. The next thing I did was to slowly smell the color on my finger. As I smelt it, I felt different. I felt I could never be this peaceful again. I wished this moment would never pass. I understood the smell of my colors, it was peace. I was at peace with them. The pure smell of colors are my release. Release from this world, this moment, this real life into a world of colors, a life full of vibrancy.


Everybody has a release, a way of letting yourself loose. Taking a moment off from the real life into a world of your own. Whenever we have a bit of time, we should always try and find out our release from our life and make peace with that moment.