In this chapter, I wish to share some of my experiences from
my childhood days till date. The first book I remember to have ‘listened’ to
have been a small story book meant for children at the age of four. My mother
read it out to me in one sitting. It was quite a job for me, not for her. I had
to listen to each word carefully and understand its meaning as well as that of
the entire sentence. The language was very different from what I was used to in
my daily life. The book was titled as ‘Natkhat Nandu’, i.e. naughty Nandu. It
was about a naughty boy, interacting with his family members, school friends,
school teachers, shopkeepers, elders from his neighbourhood and many others. It
was about a boy that was elder to me and was very different from me. I could
not place myself anywhere in the book, thereby engaging my imagination. However, the satisfaction of listening to a
full book was very great. Thanks to my father, I started reading stories and
story books very early in my life. In next 5-6 years I also started attempting
writing a few things.
I found reading helped me to go deeper in the subject and
could engage me longer than any of the oral instruction or information I
received. I liked the freedom of going back to the book any time for further
clarification. Soon I learned to enrich my books with more information by
jotting down small notes with a pencil at convenient places in the book about
what I learned from outside the book, particularly the things that were not
given in the book. Later, I started pasting some blank pages at the end of the
book to maintain my notes on the matters related to the book. I admit that I
gave such treatment only to the books that were on subjects that I was
interested in. It did not include the books related to my formal
education. As such, it is not my
intention to deal with things related to my formal education. Here, I am
concerned about the things related to the psychological and social life of the
human beings.
Reading, rolling over what has been read, deeply pondering
over what has been read, trying to understand what has been read through real
life experiences and trying to analyze real life experiences with the help of
what has been read was the process that got well imbibed into my way of life. I
think, my habit of reading helped this process to a great extent. I did not
read as much as many others do, but I gained much from what I read. From a
small story book, ‘Natkhat Nandu’ to ‘Ishopanishad’ with only eighteen mantras;
I did not travel very far but the journey had been rather satisfying to me.
Coming to writing, I wrote much till about 1972, when I was
studying for my professional degree. I wrote articles, stories, poems and even
plays. All what I wrote was not purely out of imagination. The realities of
life that I was involved in, by chance or through my well thought of actions,
had been the subject matter of my writing. The important thing about what I
wrote till about 1972 was that I was always there in what I wrote then,
sometimes in a passive role as a viewer, but more often as a participant of the
happenings depicted in my writings. In other words, my ‘self’, with its
desires, aspirations, commitments, compassions and ego was very much there in
my writings then. Others appreciated what I wrote then, but barring a very few
poems and articles I was not much satisfied with what I wrote. I always felt
that I had been interfering with the basic idea, theme, narration or the plot
of what I had written. At that young age, I had not experienced the life
sufficiently enough. I had no clue about how one can temporarily detach oneself
from the happenings of the world around to be able to view things as they
should be, clearly differentiating
between the illusions and realities. I had no experience that, in fact, an
author is not as involved with his writings as any individual is with many other
things in his life. I had not learned, then, that it was relatively easy for an
author to reasonably detach himself from his creation. The authors who write about their own
experiences, feelings, emotional turbulence and feeling do not need detaching
themselves much with their creation, they should be empathizing with the characters they create and should be
able to ‘relive’ the happenings. I knew that I had never been an author much of
that type. I wanted to explore things that caused pain and preferred to think
about how the pain could be avoided.
Throughout my life I could not keep my mind away from the man, his
strengths, weaknesses, vulnerabilities, aspirations, inquiries, inadequacies,
pleasures and pains. I even thought about if it was all that important to view
one’s pains as pains. At times, I felt that if one could think beyond his own
physical existence, he might enter into the little known territory of the ‘the
Great Unknown’, that is, the God or the unexplored consciousness that explains
everything that need an explanation.
When one gathers from others what they know by reading their
books; and, he leads his life and experiments with it to know more; he may
develop an urge to review all that he has learned and to arrange his knowledge
in an orderly manner for sharpening his own understanding. The most suitable
method to do this, is writing. Writing becomes a compulsion, at least, for a few.
The one who is compelled to write to set at rest his mental turbulence and to remove
his confusions, invariably, becomes his own reader. How the external world
responds and reacts to his writings, that may help him; but, that aspect of his
authorship may not be essential. Reading, conducting sincerely with a purpose
in mind and for the benefit of many, experiencing, experimenting, reviewing one’s
thoughts and conduct and endeavouring to
create an order form all that is definitely an effective spiritual process for
all those who feel its need, the honest inclination and the ability to do it.
I am grateful to the many that helped me to take up that kind
of journey in my own humble way. I narrate this to share it with others.
PROMOD KUMAR SHARMA
[The writer of this blog is also the author of “Mahatma A
Scientist of the Intuitively Obvious” and “In Search of Our Wonderful Words”.]
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