The Introspection of A Child

As a child is born, it comprehends the divine truth called 'Ignorance is bliss' within itself. An infant knows nothing more than what a tree knows about its surrounding habitat. It basks in the glory of its caretakers, uttering shrill cries now and then, shitting and passing water at forbidden places, mouthing unknown words, trying to trod, walk and ultimately loses balance. It is completely ignorant to what is going on in the world which has encompassed it and why, sometimes the 'world' for an infant is just the cradle on which it is sleeping. This is the phase which is characterised by the least entropy in behavioural patterns but most entropy in actions.

But as an infant takes shape of a child, ignorance slowly paves way to cognizance. A child has a mind which thinks, but thinks quite differently. Unlike an infant, it starts deducing things that happen around. Different thoughts captivate its mind. There are no longer cries for food or fights for a pencil or wetting the bed. The introspection changes gradually. Now a child learns emotions other than those of mere crying and giggling. A friend falls down and hurts himself and the child feels a part of the pain; a teacher pats the child on its back for a job accomplished and it feels the satisfaction and smiles in contentment; someone helps the child cross a muddy road and the child feels a sense of gratitude for the person.

Slowly and steadily the thoughts of a child change their perspective. From crying for a toy, it learns to shed tears at the hands of insult; from emulating the actions of daddy, it learns to follow television celebs; from laughing when tickled the child learns to laugh at jokes and from breaking real objects, it slowly learns to break hearts. When emotions pour in, a mortal being becomes sensitive. It senses its own emotions as well as those of its surrounding fraternity. With emotions comes feelings of pleasure, remorse and nonchalance and these bring forth thoughtfulness in the child. The mind thus starts to senesce.

Someone has said 'when kids, we were asked to use pencils and pens when we grew up because mistakes of childhood can be erased but those of adulthood cannot'. I comprehend this saying in the light of the fact that mistakes have a certain boundary when a child puts its thoughts into actions. The mistakes are delimited to, for instance, a few things destroyed, less-harsh things stated, petty thefts, fighting with other children and the like. Many of these are assumed unintentional and the rest are put off by the words 'alright, he's just a child'. But as the child grows older, its mistakes lose their boundary and scope. They tend to get significant and unputdownable. With this, the introspection takes a mighty leap. On one hand a child learns to argue on its own behalf for something it feels it should not have been held guilty for and on the other hand, it learns to excogitate on the judgement of people towards others.

So with time, the world around the child changes its dimensions. It influences the growing mortal in every possible way causing it to be rigid with indifferences and soft with tender emotions. The thought process magnifies to encompass several aspects. There is no stopping to pouring of thoughts into the growing mind and the youngster can be seen brooding every second. Afterward this juvenile phase, the mind never relaxes and why, most of the time, it is entangled in conflicts of varied kinds. This mind is now characterised by a huge entropy and seldom gets contented with what it thinks.

There maybe subtle difference in a child's behaviour over years but there is certainly a quantum difference in the introspection during this period. Though we may pretend to be invariants over time inasmuch as our behavioural patterns are the same yet we are, what we think.. we indeed are, what we introspect.

Sound - The Subjective Sensation of Hearing

I woke up this morning with a sparrow tweeting at the window. As I opened my eyes, I saw a meek bird perched on the window and calling out with all its might. The sky outside appeared dark giving indications of a possible downpour in the near future. As I started to get up, the legs of my bed creaked in their most usual way. The creaking started from the fore leg and continued in the hind as I sat upright on my bed. A little distance away I could hear sounds of steel utensils clanking in the kitchen. And then there was this portable fan in the adjacent room that made its fast whizzing sound. This sound became more pronouncing whenever the fan rotated towards me and started to faint whenever it swung away.

'Ting ting'. There were two distinct beeps on my cell phone. I had got a text message. It was a good morning message from a friend. Suddenly I gazed at the window. Lo, the bird was gone! The window was quiet as ever. Two kids were playing on the terrace of the neighbouring building, evidently trying to enjoy the cool weather. The shrill sound of the small kid very much caught my attention. I then turned towards the door. I heard my mother singing something in a very low tone - a hum - the one that comes automatically when you are busy doing something. I walked out of the room. The fan continued to whiz. I felt a huge desire in me to climb up to the terrace and look around. As I walked to the front door, there was a fast beating sound of water gushing down the kitchen tap and onto the surface below. Soon, a steel vessel was kept underneath it and the sound changed its form.

I trod upstairs. I could hear human conversations far away of which I couldn't make anything out. My slippers made beating sounds as I climbed the stairs. Somebody's mobile phone rang and the trenchant rhythm of the 'Nokia Tune' caught my ears. I reached the terrace. It was 7 o' clock in the morning. A cold gust of wind welcomed me. The wind made a swooshing sound near my ears as it blew past. I headed towards the parapet. I looked around. There were so many things to perceive. There were sights I could witness a little distance away but, there were sounds I could hear from distances where my vision couldn't reach. Resting my hands on the parapet, I tried to comprehend the sounds around me. I heard cars and motorbikes blowing their horns as they passed along the road that led to my college and away from it. There were people gathered here and there; some were busy eating at the breakfast stall, some were busy talking and laughing as they sipped their morning tea at the nearby tea stall and yet some others gathered at the grocery store. The voices were indistinct but they weren't monotonic. At times when they laughed or called at someone, the sound would be so pronounced that I could even hear the name being called or sense the pattern of their laugh.

Suddenly a flight of birds appeared from the western sky and proceeded towards the horizon. I looked up. It was a beautiful sight! There were about a twenty birds flying across the sky forming a pattern and all were chirping at the same time. The flock appeared cheerful and apparently upbeat. I walked a few steps ahead to behold another landscape. Somewhere men were at work. The cool wind brought sounds of wood work, the faint rumble of a moving tractor, the sound emanating from unloading of bricks at a construction site, right to where I stood. A bird swooshed down and perched on a resting dog. The latter got infuriated and got up barking loud. Poor bird! It started flying again. I couldn't help but grin at the dog.

I turned my ears to hear other things. The voices of priests chanting hymns at the nearby temple now became evident. People struck the temple bell from time to time and it made a clear ringing sound every time. Then a loaded truck appeared on the road. Its brakes screeched heavily as it slowed to negotiate a turn. The engine roared, the horns honked as it passed close to my building and soon the sounds started to diminish giving way to others. I looked up. It was almost going to rain. Nimbuses had taken charge and sky had turned darker and paler with the sun veiled in the fabric of the clouds. Soon there was a thunder. Winds started blowing faster. The sound of winds gushing became more pronounced than any other sound. A moment later, there was a bang and the breakfast stall was closed abruptly with the premonition of rain.

At once I thought of something. I ran down to my room and caught hold of my headphone. I put it on my ears to make it act as ear muff and with my ears completely concealed I steadied to the terrace again. I stood right in the middle and I stood still. I closed my eyes and tried to perceive the faintest of sounds. Now the world was engulfed in silence, or at least it seemed so. No sounds of vehicles moving, no chirping of birds and no sounds from the construction site. The surroundings seemed so serene and lifeless. There was a second thunder but it was much fainter than the one before and the reason was obvious. I could feel the cold wind bruising my body but had it become mute? Did the temple priests stop chanting hymns? What about the people who had gathered at the shops? The world around me had turned dull and quiet.

I opened my eyes as a raindrop landed on my hand. I removed the headphone. Ah! The world came back from its slumber. People were moving hastily to avoid getting drenched in the rain which had announced its arrival, the vehicles blew horns even louder, the street vendors now honked not to sell their wares but to clear their way to move, the truck that moved past our building a little ago was halted at a distance and was now ready to move, evident from the engine sound. And not long before it started to rain. Many more sounds came into beingness. Rain falling on roofs made a sound and rain falling on turf produced yet another sound. I hurried downstairs.

How fascinating is the world when you have so much to hear and perceive. And how melancholic is the world when you fail to comprehend them. Sounds, in varied forms, are truly the subjective sensations that relate us to the objects of nature...


I heard the soft hum of my mother's song once again.

A Coin Says... II

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From the State Treasury I was sent for public circulation. My first owner was a wealthy trader who, as far as I can recollect, felt no good getting a brand new coin. Quite obvious, he was after all an established businessman dealing with large transactions. So he put me along with his other cash and back home, gave me to his wife. Even she gave no cordial response which I much awaited for. The lady, fat and plump, took me to the market the next day. There she quarreled with a shopkeeper over the price of a commodity. She demanded a price which the shopkeeper wouldn’t agree for. He wanted six rupees more from the lady. Both of them seemed adamant for some time. A little later, the woman got sick of the phenomenon and hastily took me out of a tiny pouch inside her purse along with a one rupee coin which was, though newer, not as shining as me. We were handed in absolute disgust to the shopkeeper. The next sensation I felt was that he pulled a drawer and threw us among a pile of already ‘thrown’ coins amidst abusing the lady. I must admit it ached my back to have been thrown this rashly. I looked around and saw the other coin that arrived with me. It was muttering ‘the lady never showed contempt to the shopkeeper. She did us all the harm’.

That night, before the closing of the shop, the shopkeeper counted his profits and while doing it saw me for the first time. But being too busy with his work, he hardly must have realized his intemperate rage of the morning. After counting he put me back at my place. The next morning, barely after an hour of opening of the shop, a kid came to buy some groceries. Post transaction, the shopkeeper had to return eight rupees to the kid and so out came I, from the drawer along with another two coins. The kid happily handed us, put us in his shirt pocket and started to leave. Back home, he gave the articles to his mother and removed my friends from his pocket and thrust them in his mother’s palms. I waited for my turn but he didn’t bring me out! Slowly and stealthily he crept forward, trying to avoid being caught but the very next moment his mother called him.

He turned back and started walking towards his mother. Poor boy, he has no guilt I said to myself. His mother stood stern as he approached her. Then the woman spoke ‘dear, what class are you in now?’. The kid trembled for a moment and then said ‘fourth’. ‘So haven’t you been taught yet that stealing is a vice? The invoice says Rupees one hundred forty two and you returned me three rupees’. Without any hesitation he took me out and handed her and walked away. She must have felt sorry for reprimanding such a sweet boy. Then her eyes fell on me and she at once knew why he dared do the thing. I stood still while her hands trembled close to her fat belly. A moment later a drop of tear came down her cheeks & landed on top of me. I felt a deep attack. The little drop shone bright over my shiny surface and there was a tiny reflection of her face in it -which I admit- was the most affectionate face in the world.

That night she tiptoed quietly to her son’s bedroom and headed towards her shelf. There she found his little piggy bank standing at a corner. She stealthily slid me into it and then she must have left the room. Now, I was imprisoned! I got myself in a dark chamber which was filled by many of my counterparts. They were busy chatting among themselves so my arrival must have gone unnoticed. Nevertheless I had managed a new home for me, though I never wanted one. Early next morning, I heard voices from outside. I looked up. There was a tiny slit in the roof from which a faint streak of light entered inside and why, all of us had entered inside from the very one. Then suddenly there was tapping from outside. Barely had I managed to stay upright when I heard someone saying ‘Bye piggy. I am going to school. I wanted to give you a new fiver coin but… sorry. Why is mum sometimes so dodgy? I never intended to spend it’. Then I heard footsteps which gradually became fainter and then… silence was everything. The boy was gone. I felt a huge desire in me to stop him and say that he has got a wonderful mother but I couldn’t. 

I wished I could be human.

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‘Hey! There’s an earthquake. God save us!’. I opened my eyes from a deep slumber. Indeed our home was shaking like anything. There was panic all around. A fifty paise coin had already started chanting hymns and saying ‘God! Send me back to Mexico. I don’t want to stay here’. Then voices perceived our senses. ‘How much do you think have you saved all these years? Will this be enough?’ asked someone. The tone was feminine. Then a boy spoke ‘I think I have saved enough. It’s been eight years since I was gifted this and I had started saving right then. Let’s open it. Hope for a jackpot!’. There was a loud thud as if the heavens had come crashing down on us. Then all of a sudden we were exposed to bright light. I couldn’t see for a while. Then as I opened my eyes slowly, I was shocked. We had been opened and it was the same kid. He was much bigger now, tall and handsome. Beside him stood a girl, much like him, of younger age and anyone could guess she was his sister. Soon they started counting us. Suddenly she remarked ‘you had this when you were in your fourth standard. Right now I am in my fourth standard. But I have no piggy bank, not a single one!’. His bother smiled and said ‘okay. On your coming birthday. That’s my word.’

Reality struck me. It has been eight years since the day I was put inside –after that emotional encounter between a mother and her son. And then here is a girl. So the woman was expectant at that time. Just then I was picked up by the girl. ‘Nine hundred and thirty… five. Wow! It’s a shiny coin’. The boy looked at me and said ‘I had a great craze for such coins when I was of your age. But mum never allowed me to have them without asking’. ‘Exactly. That would have meant stealing. Had you rather expressed your desire, she would have herself dropped a coin or two for you!’. Aha! I exclaimed, thinking of that wonderful day and this conversation so many years later. Finally, the truth unveiled itself in a different fashion and by a small girl, who had, eight years back, experienced the melancholy of her mother from inside the womb… ‘Okay, okay. Let us not waste any more time. We will buy that beautiful portrait and a saree and then present her early tomorrow morning’ said the boy. ‘Done. The first Mother’s day we are celebrating. She will be so happy!’ said the cute, cherub girl. So, this was the entire scenario. I couldn’t help admiring God. The greatness of the mother was finally being rewarded, handsomely. God has His own ways of rewarding His children. 

A mother relives herself through her daughter.

So, all set and done, I was handed over to the gift shop owner. Finally, I was back into business. I felt the outside air, the sun, the people around, the vehicles and everything quite refreshing. After so many years of being held captive, I was a free bird once again. Again, I shall be exchanging hands, visiting new people and new places. The shopkeeper paid a small glance at me. I was still shining and sparkling. I was so much happy thinking about my freedom that I didn’t realize when I was put into the drawer. Again, I was surrounded by new coins, each with different experiences. I don’t know, for reasons that were unknown, I had forgotten what sadness meant. I was full of energy now and nothing seemed bothering. But little did I know then, that the real happiness was only hours away…

When the shopkeeper was on his way home late that evening, he stopped at a betel shop and ordered a cigarette. We parted ways that very moment and I was thrusted into a dirty hand smelling strongly of betel and catechu. He quickly threw me into a drawer, which I had become so familiar with, now. There was no shiny coin inside and this ameliorated my feelings. I started to look around. The place was dusty and dingy. I was surrounded by dark looking coins & half-soiled currency notes. I didn’t want to be here for long. It was so suffocating. I had just started of dreaming a better owner when somebody started moaning. ‘Oh God! Its paining all over. What has come over me! All my expectations are gone and here I am, lying in dirt and filth. What if this place isn’t muddy and soaked, I am all screwed’. I turned to look at it. It was a fiver coin, quite dark and gave me the feeling that it had been terribly tampered with. It had lost all its shine and gloss and had become a mere piece of currency with no self-identity.

I approached it and said ‘hello. Don’t mind but what has happened to you? Why are you so dejected?’. The coin turned to me. ‘I came to this country eight years back. I was minted in Russia and as a commemorative one. You understand what does it mean?’. I simply nodded. ‘So I reached this country as a very special coin. I expected that there would be somebody who will take me as a prized possession and keep me protected and comfortable. But alas! I started off with a bank manager who, without having the slightest pity, gave me to a butcher the very next day. He kept me for some time thinking of me as a good omen. But he gave me no special attention. I saw the slaughter of animals everyday and blood-stained coins befriended me every other day. There was no comfort and no joy at all. Then one day, there were terrible rains and strong winds. The box, my home, toppled over and opened up. I lost my balance and rolled down. My owner reacted immediately and put all the money inside but he couldn’t notice me. I had already found my way into dust and rain water’.

The coin continued ‘Since then, I have been a refuge to the soil underneath. Sometimes I am kicked by a lad and yet some other times rain carries me to places unknown yet bearing the same soil. I was never picked up by anyone. Mud and dirt took away my shine and settled in my grooves. Then one day I got stuck near the roots of a tree and never got a chance to free myself. The soil was tough near the roots and so, no rain or wind could release me from its clutches. I stayed there for what appeared to be ages. And then only yesterday, some kids found me while searching their lost ball. Their happiness lay only in the sense of their discovery. They hardly turned to check the imprint at my back. And very soon, they parted off with me at this shop to eat and make merry. And I have now reached this goddamn place. If only I had known I had to endure all this!’.

My eyes gleamed. I got reminiscences of long past when I had come to this country, my own country. I had met a similar coin who had said high about itself. A voice inside me roared and I couldn’t stop asking ‘would you mind if I ask you what imprint you have at your back?’. The coin said ‘I bear the face of Mahatma Gandhi. I am the finest coin minted at Moscow till date. But look at my destiny!’. I learnt everything. It was the same coin I had seen as a fellow mate in my journey from Russia. He was still the same proud one even though he had nothing now. I had already started feeling happy. Just then, the drawer was pulled outside. The shopkeeper looked at every one of us for a quick second. Then his eyes met mine. He picked me out to hand over to someone. But suddenly he stopped. Another quick second and then he pulled the drawer out again, put me inside and drew the proud coin out instead and said ‘here you are sir. Your change’. I smiled looking at my owner from the slit of the drawer. I was happy. It was my day after all.

He laughs best that laughs last.