Why do we refuse to change for our loved ones?!

​We live in a era, where the new generation is well informed, independent and has the ability to carry themselves with dignity and respect, or so do they believe that they do. In this fast paced environment, where we question the workings of the society at every step and try to find the rationale behind any matter, of importance and otherwise, the structure and importance of relations and their sanctity has fast been changing. 

This may sound archaic and many may question my rhetoric to be a bit too old fashioned, but the truth is relations are dying and it is killing us apart. We fear monotonicity, we fear surrendering ourselves to our loved ones, we fear to let go of our egos. Any relation is between two people, it is obvious but given the reality it doesn’t seem so obvious anymore. We try to keep our identities intact, sometimes being so self-centric that it is no longer about us, rather only oneself. 

We refuse to change for the better in the name of I am who I am. That is probably the worst kind of argument one can give. A more severe analogy will be like a murderer claiming to be at his best self, because that it what his identity is and he   can’t be any better. To break the fallacy of such an idea for once and for all is to recognize that identity is not a static concept. It is ever evolving. And the resistance to accept the good that comes in the way is to refuse to transform as a person. Staying dead at heart couldn’t be called an exaggeration and I will take the liberty in calling it so.

So when, we are asked to change, to compromise our habits and lifestyle so that we can establish a good foundation for a relationship to build, we are haunted by the change. We fear it badly; and we are so scandalized if asked to do so that we feel that the relationship never was worth the effort. If the person rejects the way I am, how can he/she be in love with me. But isn’t that taking love as an emotion to be unrealistic. To consider it too polished. What if it never was meant to perfect. What if it never will be. Life is all about imperfections and that is how love did turn out to be. What we fail to see, is its beauty lies in those imperfections, those little scrapped edges, in the thorny edges that are painful but you do have the roses. The color, the smell, the so called perfections are what we search for, but roses are flawed and so always will be love. Accepting that is what I would call to accept love in its entirety.

But this is not just about love. What we are forgetting here is that engagement with fellow humans is not a need, it is a necessity. And while we question our hypocrisy when we behave differently with different persons, we are infact trying to bring temporary changes to our personality for a smoother communication. The person infront of you is also trying to do the same. There is nothing wrong in it until those temporary personalities instead of being a shade of your color turns out to be the fake one. It is very difficult to judge, but only you can know it well. So while we unknowingly surrender our personality or atleast change its hue to establish contact, why can’t we compromise a little more to sustain it with the people we really wanted to in the first place. People who matter. Friends, family and your better half. 

So what may seem to be a rather cumbersome task is nothing but a part of actually who we are. Keep in mind that you aren’t changing yourself to please anyone , all that you are doing is to improve yourself. Becoming a better person for the people who are becoming better for you. 

Breaking Free at Dusk 

​From behind the curtains, Ravi saw his fate being decided. It was declared that it was his responsibility to carry forward the burden of his ancestral doings. Born into the family of zamindars, he was an exception to their rule. He was born out of marriage, but since it was a boy child that they desired, so be it. Truth was meddled with and while upholding the so called social morality, he was put into the family tree without any fuss. 

His father was a noble man but with flaws. And sometimes it is only the flaws that count. In his youth, he was carefree. Fearless in love, high on adventure and religious in his works. Like cloth, it slowly tattered. The moon at its prime, had surrendered to the laws of universe. It faded and since the shine was never his, he had to let it go. Lustreless, his life became distasteful. And helplessly he stood to see his son get his share of bitter fate. 

Ravi had something else in his mind. The incidents leading to the death of his mother was still fresh in his memory. Even twenty year later it seemed yesterday. He decided to run away. He could start afresh. He couldn’t leave his father, but he wouldn’t agree to accompany him either. 

Ravi’s eldest uncle was the head of the family. A staunch man with very less morals, he was a victim to the workings of the society. A victim who wanted to perpetuate the pain of his wounds on others. He was not right, but the way it had come to be, he wasn’t wrong either. 

Ravi had realised this. He didn’t like him but he couldn’t hate him, for his flaws had a baggage from the past and it was too heavy to be shared. He knew he could somehow be the change. But how was the question. 

While his uncle succumbed to ill health and his father too weak to carry on, he decided to take reign of the empire. He gave away his lands for school, small village medical units. He funded irrigation and kept enough for himself so that he could continue with his vision. Others termed him a fool and for the poor he became their Messiah. His other uncles were increasingly seeing their wealth drain, but couldn’t help it because it was no longer theirs to keep. 

His father on his deathbed, called for him. Ravi was in the farms at that time. He rushed back home. His father smiled. Smiled at the 3 yr old boy he had brought home. Smiled at the man who had the courage to do what he couldn’t. He had lost it to his fate, Ravi accepted it and did the best out of it. And while he smiled he said, “The winds were a little different that morning, but the sun did not sway. The winds were dusty that morning, but compromised the vision refused to fail. I still stand where I was, you did make me stronger. The winds are here to take me home,  thank you for holding tight. I know it was easy to abandon, you chose the difficult way. I know it was never our choice, you made color out of the grey.”

Looking Back from Now

​My dreams used to awake in lands too far,
Where days were greener and a world too small. 
Where thoughts desired words and smiles  reflected happiness,
Where the songs of past got better with a coarse voice and the strength still didn’t fade. 

Then, when things didn’t seem that way any longer,
The deserted smile, the agony and the unknown to the inside either. 
Like ice cubes, life melts and slides,
In depths of it is merges,
Lost and oblivious to what it was,
A life to another ceases.