Honestly, what more does a man want? In one of his interviews, Tanikella Bharani talks about one of his friends who lives in his one acre farm and writes poetry. And there was this recent article in The Hindu about Lucky Ali, growing his own food and creating his music. And to top it all, Pico Iyer's masterpiece essay in the New York Times stirs up more than a few hearts.
"I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them. And work which one hopes may be of some use. Then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor. Such is my idea of happiness. And then, on top of all that, you for a mate, and children perhaps. What more can the heart of a man desire?"- Alexander Supertramp
Ignorant of the above quote, I almost said the same stuff to Kaushik a little while ago when we were returning from Bhavana Rao's sprawling house which triggered this post in the first place. And there's the immortal Holden line, "I'd just be the catcher in the Rye and all. I know it's crazy.." True, a man cannot change anything that does not directly affect him. One doesn't have to be a Gandhi to make the world a better place, one can just be an Hazare and make his village a fine one. The whole act of society well being might look a bit contrived at first but then can any man be able to eat well when his neighbour is starving? It's a selfish motive really, Nemo vir est qui mundum non reddat meliorem.
A small wooden house overlooking a lake, your friends your neighbours, an occasional movie with the family, dinner together, growing your own food, swimming in the lake every morning, watching test matches leisurely with friends, strumming a ballad to your loved one at sunset, helping people you can, taking your kids out hiking, writing poetry. You know, the usual stuff. And money, how would you make money like this? With your hands, carpentry, writing, mending stuff, inventing. The kind of lives our ancestors once lived. A life where breaking news is really breaking and where nobody'd give a shit if sensex drops by 2000 points.
Three hours after I saved this draft here, I come back a more exposed man. About the need for a social responsibility.
Let me talk about in the next posts, about the need for a social conscience.
But for now, adios.
The camera is placed to the extreme left end of the screen, on an empty highway, pointing straight at the sun; Emptiness. And as time passes on, the back of a man emerges, walking away from us, barefoot, holding a guitar onto his right shoulder, humming a tune to himself. Totally oblivious of the gaping viewers. He walks away into the sunset.
Think about it.