The Art of Living

Mrs. Nargis (Shanker) Natarajan

The other day I attended a discourse on the art of living. Not that I had been an inanimate object for the past few decades but I was now going to excel on the perfect technique of inhaling and exhaling. Our first lesson involved deep suspiration methods that miraculously exercised the muscles of the abdomen too. And all along I was under the impression that my tummy was just an inflated balloon for having given into my temptations. 'Not fair' my weary and polluted lungs complained. I apologised to them profusely for all the years of wasted breath, promising them that in future I would try hard to control my respiration and my organ discrimination.

Next, we were all asked to relax, focus and look deep into our souls. 'Wasn't this a bit selfish?' I asked, a little warily. 'NO', 'NO', 'NO', 'NO', voices rang out from all quarters, educating me on the instant metamorphosis from my present worm like existence into becoming a better child, a better wife, a better mother and a better homemaker. Now, this was a different story. Which caterpillar would not want to become a butterfly, even if it meant turning oneself into a self-seeking cocoon? I desperately needed to better myself and my many occupations- especially since my parents, my husband, my children and my servant all felt I needed extra tutoring in all the fields.

We closed our eyes and took a temporary retirement from the horrifying jungle of reality. With rapid Kung Fu movements, oxygen was pumped into our stomachs and carbon dioxide drained through our noses. We were then told to concentrate on the essence of eternity- namely Time and Thoughts and to deposit them right, left and behind. For the next five minutes our eras and our memories were filtered and sieved and sorted out. When I finally opened my eyes, the lady on my left looked absolutely fatigued. My tortured past lay gasping on her lap. My friend on the right appeared a bit unsettled. My uncertain Future was heaped on hers. I couldn't see the one behind me but I could almost feel the vibrating waves of confusion that swayed in the background. My muddled Present was tossed off right into her pretty little head. I however, felt relieved!

No force on earth could now stop me from practicing this unique form of exercise- not the chattering of my kids, neither the droning of my husband or the whining of my maid. I cordoned myself into an air- conditioned room and shut myself off from the entire world. But suddenly everything appeared desolate and bleak.

Now that I had no one to heap my miscellaneous troubles upon, the ghosts of the Past, the Present and the Future started to haunt me. When I turned to my left, the gory demolitions of temples and mosques and statues and towers, all bombed into my face. Right before me, the current flames of hatred, perversion and nepotism threatened to devour me. When I looked ahead, devastation loomed large in the form of a barren globe. I witnessed an earth devoid of greenery and humanity but one that was fertile enough to give birth to poverty and bestiality. It was not easy!

When confronted with the jagged thorns, how does one seek the beauty in a rose? When the words in life's chapter are strewn apart, how does one search for poetry in a prose? When every organ in the body is taxed and polluted, how does one decide which to rely upon? It was certainly not easy. I got up and opened the door.

Nature beckoned me temptingly and I headed straight into its harmonious trap. The sun shone. The birds sang. The precious flowers displayed their wealth of beauty. A street urchin was feeding a puppy. I bent down to caress the tiny dog, not missing out on the look of worship that shone in its soulful eyes. The boy looked at me hopefully. I had nothing to offer so I gave him a smile. And it was then that I understood the true meaning of life.

It was certainly not concentrating on keeping the eyes closed, trying to toss imaginary thoughts into imaginary baskets. Instead, it was opening them wide and viewing life in its multifarious hues. It was, not only to notice the pinks and the reds and the yellows and the blues but to also spare a glimpse for the whites and the blacks and the grays. And once you are aware of all these shades, only then will you have mastered the true art of living!