Throwing rocks in the pond of propriety
Leave a man alone next to a serene pond in one of the great open spaces, he becomes reflective. He will reflect on the goings on in his life, how right or wrong he has been in some of the dealings and then gets into questioning himself. He will try to convince himself that he had to what he had to do and at that point in time there was nothing better he could have done. May be there was. He becomes conflictive. He will try and see if there is any fish in the pond. If he finds one, he will gaze at it for some time. He will then standup and run his fingers through his hair (if he has some left). He will look around himself to see if there are any stones about that are flat, thin and slightly wide. He will then look about to see if there is anyone around who could be watching him. Having confirmed that he is alone, he will then pick up one of the stones and, with a flourish, swings his arm to zip the stone into the pond at an angle that will help the stone bounce on the surface of the water a couple of times. He will count the number of times the stone bounced before sinking in. Any number greater than two will make him feel satisfied with his ability to throw rocks into the pond. He then picks himself up, tries to make himself suitable for the real world again and sets off on his way.
That is about the only time the man ever throws rocks into a seemingly serene pond. Otherwise he is a stickler to status quo. He never questions the rules imposed upon him. He believes in the ways of the world as explained to him years ago by his now dead father. He listens to the god men on TV giving out the wisdom from religious texts and tries to adapt himself to those teachings. He gets upset with the people who do not honor his beliefs and who break the rules of the world as he sees them. Essentially, he creates a pond of propriety, a serene surface made up of all the rules that he accumulated over the years. He never stops to think that water flows and gets replaced all the time in every pond where the water is not dirty. He never stops to think that unless the water of rules keeps flowing in the pond of propriety that is his character, it gets dirty too. He never even throws rocks into the pond of propriety. For him, that pond needs to remain still, even stagnant; he doesn’t like to see ripples in it leave alone throwing a rock into it. He becomes unhappy when someone throws a rock into his pond of propriety and that day he just takes a break to go sit next to the serene pond in the great open spaces. It will clear my mind, he tells himself. And when he gets there, he invariably throws a rock into the serene pond. He sees the rock bouncing off of the water surface, creating ripples that hit the shore and then he sees the stone sink into the water, becoming part of the pond. He sees everything and his mind is clear. After that, he gets back to life to lose the clarity.
I know a teenage boy who is much wiser than his years. He keeps questioning; seeking answers that are difficult to give. May be they don’t even exist. But since the question exists, he is sure that so does an answer. One day, as I was busy washing dishes in the kitchen, he came in and said, “I think freedom is the purpose of life”. I could neither confirm nor deny that statement. I was happy he did not ask me to verify that statement. But the happiness was short lived when he followed up that statement with the question, “What exactly is freedom?” That was a tough one. I had to think quickly, so I don’t seem like a dumb housemaid to him. I said, “Can you go out to the cross-roads near Sangeet Theater and beg for couple of hours?” I even offered him one of the sparkling clean steel bowls, now that I was the purveyor of all that was dirty in the kitchen. I must have scared him a bit. He recoiled at the suggestion. Though I was not sure what made him recoil, I attributed it to the fact that he detested the act of begging – him being one of the top students in his class and perceived as a leader by his peers and all. “What has that got to do with freedom?” the good thing about him is that he is always eager to learn (Even from a nincompoop). He never loses his temper in a discussion. So irrespective of the quality of my explanation, I was sure he would simply walk away leaving me to wonder if I made any sense at all. So I braced myself up for another of his smiling walks and said, “Ask yourself what stops you from going to the Sangeet Theater cross roads and beg – except the traffic of course. And may be that will help you understand how many things you are bound to”. I was trying to tell him that there is a pond of propriety in his mind already. The act of begging could have been similar to throwing a rock into that pond. I didn’t go to that extent of explanation as I was worried he might assume that the dirt disappearing from the dishes is actually accumulating in my brain. Thankfully, he just gave one of his great smiles. And then he walked out.
People don't like others throwing rocks into their ponds of propriety while at the same time they do exactly that when it comes to other people. Children are constantly rebuked and stopped from doing lots of things because they routinely disturb the ponds all over the place. However, as years pass and circumstances change, each one ends up with a pond of propriety. May be their pond now contains a lot more stones that they have thrown in themselves but it is still a pond. At some point, every one tends to stop throwing stones into the pond as they start taking ownership of it.
More often than not, I catch myself imposing rules in the house. But then, like everybody else, I comfort myself thinking that I must do those things to ensure the safety and security of my family – now and two hundred years from now. I have my pond too despite the fact that the water in it does flow, though only by a trickle. I keep telling myself that I should be open to some sort of stone throwing on a daily basis. The water in the pond should change every day and the ponds dimensions should be open to change with every new stone thrown into and with every ripple hitting the shore. Like when my daughter asked me one fine morning, ‘why do you need to get marks in an exam’, I felt the stone hitting the serene surface and then sinking into the pond with a thud. The pond’s dimensions altered forever. The ripple has died but the change will not. May be not. Change is only momentary before it becomes the way of life. It needs to change too.
Throwing rocks into the pond of propriety is not a task that happens over a fixed time period with a fixed deadline and end goal. It must keep happening constantly. There are enough rocks in the world, Forrest.
That is about the only time the man ever throws rocks into a seemingly serene pond. Otherwise he is a stickler to status quo. He never questions the rules imposed upon him. He believes in the ways of the world as explained to him years ago by his now dead father. He listens to the god men on TV giving out the wisdom from religious texts and tries to adapt himself to those teachings. He gets upset with the people who do not honor his beliefs and who break the rules of the world as he sees them. Essentially, he creates a pond of propriety, a serene surface made up of all the rules that he accumulated over the years. He never stops to think that water flows and gets replaced all the time in every pond where the water is not dirty. He never stops to think that unless the water of rules keeps flowing in the pond of propriety that is his character, it gets dirty too. He never even throws rocks into the pond of propriety. For him, that pond needs to remain still, even stagnant; he doesn’t like to see ripples in it leave alone throwing a rock into it. He becomes unhappy when someone throws a rock into his pond of propriety and that day he just takes a break to go sit next to the serene pond in the great open spaces. It will clear my mind, he tells himself. And when he gets there, he invariably throws a rock into the serene pond. He sees the rock bouncing off of the water surface, creating ripples that hit the shore and then he sees the stone sink into the water, becoming part of the pond. He sees everything and his mind is clear. After that, he gets back to life to lose the clarity.
I know a teenage boy who is much wiser than his years. He keeps questioning; seeking answers that are difficult to give. May be they don’t even exist. But since the question exists, he is sure that so does an answer. One day, as I was busy washing dishes in the kitchen, he came in and said, “I think freedom is the purpose of life”. I could neither confirm nor deny that statement. I was happy he did not ask me to verify that statement. But the happiness was short lived when he followed up that statement with the question, “What exactly is freedom?” That was a tough one. I had to think quickly, so I don’t seem like a dumb housemaid to him. I said, “Can you go out to the cross-roads near Sangeet Theater and beg for couple of hours?” I even offered him one of the sparkling clean steel bowls, now that I was the purveyor of all that was dirty in the kitchen. I must have scared him a bit. He recoiled at the suggestion. Though I was not sure what made him recoil, I attributed it to the fact that he detested the act of begging – him being one of the top students in his class and perceived as a leader by his peers and all. “What has that got to do with freedom?” the good thing about him is that he is always eager to learn (Even from a nincompoop). He never loses his temper in a discussion. So irrespective of the quality of my explanation, I was sure he would simply walk away leaving me to wonder if I made any sense at all. So I braced myself up for another of his smiling walks and said, “Ask yourself what stops you from going to the Sangeet Theater cross roads and beg – except the traffic of course. And may be that will help you understand how many things you are bound to”. I was trying to tell him that there is a pond of propriety in his mind already. The act of begging could have been similar to throwing a rock into that pond. I didn’t go to that extent of explanation as I was worried he might assume that the dirt disappearing from the dishes is actually accumulating in my brain. Thankfully, he just gave one of his great smiles. And then he walked out.
People don't like others throwing rocks into their ponds of propriety while at the same time they do exactly that when it comes to other people. Children are constantly rebuked and stopped from doing lots of things because they routinely disturb the ponds all over the place. However, as years pass and circumstances change, each one ends up with a pond of propriety. May be their pond now contains a lot more stones that they have thrown in themselves but it is still a pond. At some point, every one tends to stop throwing stones into the pond as they start taking ownership of it.
More often than not, I catch myself imposing rules in the house. But then, like everybody else, I comfort myself thinking that I must do those things to ensure the safety and security of my family – now and two hundred years from now. I have my pond too despite the fact that the water in it does flow, though only by a trickle. I keep telling myself that I should be open to some sort of stone throwing on a daily basis. The water in the pond should change every day and the ponds dimensions should be open to change with every new stone thrown into and with every ripple hitting the shore. Like when my daughter asked me one fine morning, ‘why do you need to get marks in an exam’, I felt the stone hitting the serene surface and then sinking into the pond with a thud. The pond’s dimensions altered forever. The ripple has died but the change will not. May be not. Change is only momentary before it becomes the way of life. It needs to change too.
Throwing rocks into the pond of propriety is not a task that happens over a fixed time period with a fixed deadline and end goal. It must keep happening constantly. There are enough rocks in the world, Forrest.
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