IN THE SERIES OF NASTY REALITY/REALITIES

In general, I am too careful about anything or everything that belongs to me. I am overprotective. I am over possessive. I am overzealous in making tall claims about how nothing goes missing. But such are the twists of times. In the last one month’s time, I’ve lost two things; the loss of which pushes me down the aisle of unnecessary thoughts. But the truth remains unchanged; I couldn’t insure myself against these losses. 

So, what are the two things, which I couldn’t protect from losing?

A total of two: 1) A digital lock and 2) The duplicate key to my bicycle.

In a span of two months, two losses! Therefore, this is not my moment of glory or considerable fodder to imagine, craft, write or narrate a story. But I am still at it; greedy enough to tell the story.

The digital lock that I am speaking about just disappeared. Even though I don’t remember the exact time day, date and the moment of the loss, I remember having returned from my seven-day stay in Kolkata and seeing it hanging intact, from one of the corners of my suitcase. A minute later that I was reminded of procuring the same and putting it back to its regular place, the digital lock had disappeared. But I believe the loss was inevitable. The signs and symbols of its loss had been coming my way for a long time. I ignored all of them. I do remember a similar experience in the month of April. We had not gone too far but, we still chose to pack our clothes in a suitcase, which was locked with the help of the same digital lock (now lost). On our return, the lock had disappeared in similar circumstances and resurrected after a week. This time, the loss took an irreversible form when the combing operation launched by me (within the residence) produced no results. The investigation was carried out for one week in a row. The investigation included lying flat on the ground to check the remains beneath the bed. The investigation also involved a moment wherein I extracted every stinky content from the trash can, placed them on a piece of paper and still failed to locate the digital clock. The digital lock had disappeared. I suffered a loss and I haven’t yet stopped repenting the loss.

The second incident of losing another possession of mine took place this morning. At around 5 AM, I put my hands in a cloth jacket, to pull out the keys to my bicycle. On pulling out the key-chain, I was shocked to see one of the duplicated keys having gone missing. Once again, the instantly launched combing operation yielded no results. Signs of this loss had come my way in the beginning of this week. The (now) missing key had chosen to dive out of my trouser. But I managed to put it back. But the story changed this morning. I had incurred another loss.

But I am amused by the pattern of these losses. The digital lock went missing in the beginning and was followed up by the loss of a key. Are these back-to-back losses trying to hint at something? The lock was the first in the series, the key next and then what next? These two losses also make me realize that nothing is permanent in this world. The concept of ‘nothing is permanent’ is too special to me. The credit of my faith belongs to the creation of a Mandala, the representation of the world in divine form, perfectly balanced, precisely designed, is meant to re-consecrate the earth and heal its inhabitants. But it is more than a picture. It requires millions of pieces of sand to make a mandala five by five feet square. It requires a team of monks working anywhere from days to weeks, depending on the size of the mandala, to create this floor plan of the sacred mansion that is life. It requires the interplay of vivid colors and ancient symbols.

When the mandala is finally finished, however long it takes for the monks to deal in this divine geometry of the heavens, they pray over it — and then they destroy it. They sweep it up, every last grain of sand and give handfuls of it away to those who participate in the closing ceremony as a final memory of sublime possibility. Then they throw the rest of the sand into the nearest living stream to be swept into the ocean to bless the whole world. And that’s it. It’s gone. In an instant, after all that artistry, all that work, it’s over.

The underlying message of the mandala ceremony is that ‘nothing is permanent’. Nothing. All things are in flux, it says, beautiful but ephemeral, moving but temporary, a plateau but not a summit. All things are called to balance and enlightenment and the fulfillment of the Divine image in them, yes, but in flux. Always in flux.

Nothing is permanent, neither their state in life — nor ours. The fact is that the politics of permanence is a sham. It has never lasted, and it never will.

I am sure there is an underlying message in my two losses too. The loss of the digital lock indicates that I should not lock myself within the confines of my past or present, pleasant/unpleasant, memorable/forgettable memories, experiences, emotions. I should break free. The loss of the duplicate key to my bicycle indicates that I should endeavor unlocking new doors, new experiences and a new life (a ‘nomadic’ life). In short, I need to let go millions or handful of things by telling myself – ‘nothing is permanent’. And I have to accept the fact that the series of realities will continue being nasty.

(Please note: The text for Mandala portion is a reproduction of https://www.huffingtonpost.com/sister-joan-chittister-osb/mandala-why-destroy-it_b_970479.html)

-Virtuous Vociferous | November 25 | November Blog-2 | 2017