On Being Confused

For me, when you feel it, internalise your feeling and then express it in words true to your wisdom, you become a philosopher. Believe me, I don't know the 'P' of Philosophy. But I do believe that I am a philosopher, considering the fact that I do observe, feel, analyse, internalise and finally come out with observations. To be precise, one who feels can be a philosopher. How big or small, not an issue.

Thanks I still have the book, Sophie's World, on my shelf that I hizacked from my erstwhile roomie in Powai days. Still unread. I used to be little greedy for books. On leaving university, I had left my books and diaries far behind. I can purchase those brand new books. But at times I do miss those diaries of my college and varsity days. I wish they were still with me.

An old pal reminded me of the moment when I also disregarded his suggestion to keep those rare manuscripts with me. I can't blame anybody, nor myself. The fellow understands. Most of us have gone through a very similar phase. You love to throw your diaries, withdraw from your emotions, forget your classmates, and be a recluse. All for the sake of justifying your sweet-little existence in this universe. The preamble of that Existence written by somebody and defined by yet another somebody.

Today, suddenly I feel sad for my love poems, my emotional journey, the oriya translation of Eliot's Wasteland and beautiful lines of Strindberg and Prouste. I was a romantic lover, always in love with the idea called Romanticism. May be that's why I never felt the desire to be in a
relationship to write. But we all imagine. We all are rapists in our imagination. We all hook to some kind of alternative to get some quick-fix and proclaim to be achievers.

When I first watched porn, it was so refreshing that I realised what a big blunder I did by not watching porn all those days. When I first made my 1 minute documentary, it was so suggestive that I had to be cautioned by my TV Production madam to avoid such "confusing" themes.
But I had a teacher who used to say, the best teacher is he who confuses others. That teacher, who happens to be a Tamilian, used to throw some questions at random in class before making you realise that the class was over. I used to enjoy him very much. You need not read books to answer his papers, just grasp the definition and then keep confusing, a la Thiru style!! (Hats off to Mr Thirumal of my HCU days for teaching all of us the art of confusing the elites.)

Every good philosopher, I believe, must be great at confusing others. I also love to be confused. And I am. But I hate philosophy as a subject and students of that subject. Because, for me, you need not study philosophy to understand the thinkers and their ideas.

As an individual, I love success in its purest physical form. I love to love the love of the love. I love to have all the fun. After a break, I love to quickly address the responsibilities to my near and dear ones and then retreat into the Beautiful World of Confusion. All alone, but no loneliness.

At this juncture, a few lines I read in Class VI History book comes to my mind. I realise that I always admire the philosophy of Buddha. There is no confusion here. The truth in simplest language. You may not reach the final destination, but you can be a happy soul and be in driver's seat throughout your life.

I have ingrained one good thing and that is I don't expect much from a relationship. We should learn the Art of Not Expecting. Of course, the philosophy that we have internalised through today's Mc-culture does mock at this idea. But, I believe, someone who have understood the thinkers of this side of the universe, will not be so crazy buying self-help books of some Canadian or Brazilian author.

When I analyse something deeply, everything looks like a circle. The end is One. That's why we should learn from our mistakes and not get confused again.