Time : The Eternal Potter

 Our life shapes us.

Who we are born as, man or woman. Black or brown or white. Rich or poor. 

The much loved Marathi poet Ga Di Madgulkar said in one of his songs for the movie Prapanch : 

फिरत्या चाकावरती देशी मातीला आकार
विठ्ठला तू वेडा कुंभार

firatya chaka varati deshi 

Maatila aakar

Vitthala, tu veda kumbhar!

Oh creator, you make various shapes out of raw soil on the ever rotating wheel of Time.

If we must understand why one pot became smoother, or taller, or wider, or bigger, or rounder, or more even, or better looking, or better finished than another, we have to rewind the video of when it was being made. 

I used to be like most people who go to these exhibitions and admire good pottery and pick up the one that looks best for my eyes and my pocket. And walk out with that one and forget about the others. 

Now the outlook has changed. I admire the variety and their unique differences and enjoy just the opportunity to see this with my eyes without feeling the need to own any of them. Even the ones with a few defects are still functional and beautiful in their own way. I admire them the same way as I do their more perfect appearing counterparts and then carry on with my day. 

Today social conversations hover around diplomacy and confrontation, violence and non violence, anger and understanding, impatience and patience, politeness and insults, contentment and greed, integrity and corruption, cruelty and compassion, compliance, complicity and protests.

I look back at my own life and it sheds light on many of these concepts. I have, like most people, had a brush with all of the above pairs of opposites. Have survived until now despite not always being on the, conventionally speaking, more acceptable side of things. And life is still not done. There is still much to navigate every single day. 

But it gets interesting to look back and see with a certain neutrality to understand why I am how I am today and why I am not like my husband or my kids or my mother or my sister, or my teachers, or my friends or my colleagues or my patients or anyone else. Our starting points were different. Our day to day business was different. And our capacity to process everything that happened to us and around us was different. 

When I look at the concept of violence and non violence, today my definition of both these terms is quite different from what textbooks or even artificial intelligence might say. Why? Because no author of any textbook or the creator of artificial intelligence has been through every single individual’s understanding of what violence or non violence means to them.

When I was in my teens I was already sent to Mumbai for higher education. Away from my parents when I was barely15. In those days I had exposure to my aunt in Vile Parle. She was married to my dad’s maternal cousin. This aunt must be in her sixties at that time. She came from a relatively humble background compared to the family she was married into. During our casual afternoon conversations, when I innocently asked her about her education,she would tell me rather sheepishly how school used to be a few kilometers walk from home, and in the sun. She started protesting about it and quit school finally after fourth grade. Notwithstanding such meager formal education, in my opinion, she remains one of the wisest and most intelligent people I have met in my life. Everything that I imbibed from her came from casual conversations. Things that I didn’t learn from my own parents while growing up. 

She was telling me her experiences as a young newly married woman. Coming from a small village near Pandharpur to a financially better household in a big city. In this household there were elders who held the purse strings as well as general powers. They enforced behaviors, rules and discipline. Everyone else was expected to and accustomed to obey without questioning. A slightest error or deviation from norm could evoke extreme anger and punishment from the elder in the house. 

One particular day something she did drew his ire. He rushed to her with the intention to inflict a physical blow upon her. That was the moment she responded. Her words: “If you hurt me with two blows, I may return at least one of them. You decide if you want to accept them.”

It stopped him in his place. Partly because he had not seen it coming. Partly because he was too proud to be able to ever tell anyone what happened. 

This was just one of many lessons she carved into my brain at an age when I was blossoming as a woman. 

Those of you reading this anecdote from my early years can understand where I stand on violence and non violence and why my definition may not fit the common definition of these concepts.

There are many such concepts that are unique in my understanding including the concept of God, religion, national identity, national pride, right and wrong, fairness and justice, equality, love. These have not been shaped overnight. Or even deliberately, in full consciousness. But rather it’s been slow and steady based on external factors as well as a lot on internal enquiry and upheavals. 

The biggest gain in the process of introspection and assimilation of life’s experiences has been the ability to understand people in the context of their lives and circumstances. It has sort of leveled out my position in the bigger scheme of things. I can understand why an army officer might see a country’s security as taking priority over other issues and why his approach in controlling unrest cannot be similar to the Gandhian approach. I can also see why an ordinary citizen who has never been in combat or at the border would expect a rather non confrontational response from the government in the face of serious protests that show signs of getting out of control to the point of spilling into restricted areas. Reality is often not in the same plane as expectation and imagination. That’s where the divide comes.

And what widens the divide is the unwillingness to take one step back and re-evaluate both: expectations and reality.

Can a woman in today’s world possibly adopt Gandhiji’s definition of non-violence? Yet does she have to go as far as needing to adopt Bhagat Singh’s version of solving problems? 

These are existential questions for individual people. Yet they need to be answered collectively through social dialogue. And dialogue is not defined by hurling insults and threats. By anyone’s definition. 

My aunt whose anecdote I shared in this post, quietly went about her day after resisting assault that one time. She did not leave the home or protest by not cooking for the family that day. Or looking at and/or talking with contempt to the particular man she had stopped from raising his hand on her. She had spoken out just when needed. Rest of what she had to speak she did for rest of her life through her diligent every day duties and behavior.

Just like her, my most practical lessons in life have come from very ordinary people and very ordinary circumstances. Many even from people who tried to teach me in a punitive and condescending manner. A lesson is a lesson. It really is meaningless to categorize it as a good or bad lesson. I am beginning to see the same way when I see people and life. There are people. There is life. Not good people and bad people. Not good life and bad life. Everything and everyone is here to keep us leveled in our place. 

Whether we acknowledge it or not, Time will continue to shape us. One pot at a time. And no pot exactly like another.