Little things

So I’ve been having this particular experience repeatedly over the span of the past 2-3 days. I’ve been doing nothing different from what I usually do but there was a difference in the way I saw things and felt about them. I now realize that I was acutely aware of all the little things. I wasn’t concentrating on the larger picture as much as the details. And hey…here’s the thing…I liked it!
On Friday I went for a party. Since it was raining, I got a little wet in the rain. And I didn’t feel irritated as I usually do if it rains on me before a party. On the contrary, I enjoyed the feel of the raindrops on my face and hair. On the same day I was taken to eat some chaat. Chaat…I’ve been so caught up with the kebabs and biryanis that I’d actually forgotten how good it feels to stand by a chaat thela in wet weather and munch on some super-spicy aaloo tikki.
On Saturday I went back to the same place I go every Saturday- Turquoise Cottage. And here’s the thing: I didn’t have a blast as I expected to. It felt very run of the mill, and didn’t excite me like it used to. I left pretty soon and called it a night. The next day I went out to lunch with a friend, and we went to a sandwich joint, where I saw a rack full of postcards. And that just made me so happy. I went and stood there, browsing through them, picking out the ones I wanted and scattering the rest on the table. After having picked up the ones I wanted and returning the ones I didn’t back to their rack, I went and sat with my friend, feeling extremely pleased with myself. Some of those postcards now adorn my workstation; and serve to make me happy when I look at them.
I believe I’ve been living the details since the past few days, and it feels pretty good. Does that explain my recent craving for a glass of chai from a dhaba?

Choices

Everyone tells you what you’re doing is wrong. You reflect upon their opinions, because you trust them. And they have been right in the past. You think things over, incidents, thoughts, future goals et al. And you realize that they might be right. Maybe what you’re doing is indeed wrong. But you enjoy it, so you continue doing it. You think, what the hell, just this once. Then I’ll stop. Of course you don’t stop there; you keep doing it, and then justify it to yourself by saying that you are the master of your own wishes and free to do what you like. And after all, what’s to say that your trusted well-wishers will always be right?
Then there is also the concept of individuality. What is right for one person may not be right for another. It is indeed possible that what you are doing right now, which is met with disapproval by others, will at the end of the day turn out to be the right thing for you. But you are not sure of that. The reason you are doing what you are is temporary enjoyment. And you know that as well as anyone else. Is that wrong? Is it wrong to seek short-term enjoyment, knowing that one day it will have to end and you will have to buckle down to serious business? Does everything one does in life have to pan out to a larger, more substantial goal?

Instinct?

Madagascar. That’s the name of the movie I watched yesterday. It’s an animated film, about 4 animals raised in captivity, which are then left in the wild. The story is about how they cope with their new lives, and the discoveries some of them make. It brought home to me the fact that most behavior is taught, not instinctive. How creatures react to situations is also largely learnt behavior. This is especially true for species like human beings, who rely so much more on learnt skills than on instinct. Take for example how we react when we are hungry. Instinct urges us to grab the food we see and eat it. But we will still reach for the knife and fork.
What the movie made me think about was how instinct can be suppressed when the outside conditions are not purely natural. Our lion (Alex) in the movie didn’t even know he was a predatory animal while he was in captivity. He was as shocked as anyone else when the realization dawned upon him. It made me wonder: Are there things about us that are instinctive, yet suppressed to a point where we are oblivious of their existence? Could it really be possible that we might be unaware of our very natures? The question definitely calls for a thought, if not an answer!