Niftily Homely
New Clouds, 1937, Painting by Nandalal Bose
I dipped my toes into the river water. Cold, soothing and a little muddy, it was. Some green algae swam in between my left foot’s big toe finger and the next smaller one. I may not prefer that in my apartment but I never feel snobbish to do such a childish act when nature is so near. I could see the series of toto rickshaws on the river bridge. The concrete bridge looked so unfitted in that ambience. It looked as if a cunning man was looking downwards to list the names of the childish and excited visitors; it was not at all amicable. The river may feel the same way, who knows? By the way, her name is Kopai. She stays here from ancient time. And this bridge came a few years back. A daunting and inspective eye may stare at her every minute. She perhaps feels like watched over. I walked a little away from the bridge. A visitor yelled from the bridge “The water level is not high. Eta ki? (What is this?)”
Then I could not hear what they were talking about, but then, “Hya, Barshakal! (Yes, rainy season!), a local man shouted hard. “Come in that time, you’ll see this river’s real glory. Now she is sleeping!”
I felt that the river was doomed into the feeling of an unwanted. But when I looked at her, she did not disappoint me even with her not-so-ready state. I walked on. She looked even more serene where no bitter thoughts rattled her way. A kitten was dribbling itself into the river bank and licking water from the side of a muddy stone. Nature might have over-poured the tinkle of tune in this area. I gawped at the pinkish-bluish glittery water. My phone rang. I might have come a long way.
Nature often reflects our existential issues. We also categorically worry about our presence and particularity. That visitor was not happy to see the ordinary, average looking river. And this kind of mentality never stops at a certain level. In every way, we tend to anticipate something luxurious or even try to fit into the shoe of society’s so-called expectations. Can’t we come out authentically? Someday if we do not look good, or someday if we are underprepared, or someday if we need a short break, why does that series not come up with convention? Why do we over-pressurize ourselves to match up what others think of us? I feel we can possess the attribute of being niftily homely. Why can’t we feel ravishing even if we stay out of the societal boundaries of quoted standards? Author Lynne Cazaly says, “Striving for perfection is something we’ve been encouraged to do for most of our lives.” She further adds, “Do we really desire, notice, want, demand, expect and believe we require perfect? All the time? For everything? I’m here to say no.”
The societal convictions or our own unrealistic schemes should not overpower our notion of happiness. Persuasiveness should not overpower us. When I saw the river’s calm water, I could not ask more from it. I feel our quest for happiness stays in our eyes, in our souls. That feeling brings the power of Ina*. The definition of perfection stays with us the way we think of it, not the way others confine us. My credibility or your credibility may not match like a jigsaw puzzle but we both shine the way we wish to. The power of acceptance comes from within. We just need to allow it, graciously.
(*In Sanskrit, Ina (इन).—a. means determined or anything that is powerful.)