Zakir Hussain And Me

Zakir Hussain And Me

“What’s your take on the year that is almost over? What is gained and what is lost? And what was done and not done?” Lulu, my parrot, asked me. He flew in from the window and had settled on the head of my armchair.

“And what will be remembered and what you would like to forget?” Nina the Myna added.

“What’s going on Lulu and Nina? I feel like a student before you! Nevertheless, your questions are important. Let me think and answer them” I said as I kept a plate of papaya and guava slices for Lulu and Nina, my myna.

(Nina, my Myna)

“That’s a good strategy to keep our mouths shut” Lulu said as he nibbled with a guava.

“Ha ha! Your questions are good and deep, Lulu and Nina. There are no easy answers. Hmmmm …. I have a thought which is stuck in my mind” I removed my specs, placed them on the table and rubbed my eyes.

“Tell us” Nina, my myna said and looked up at me expectantly.

“The Tabla maestro Zakir Hussain is no more. He was 73, and exactly of my age. Look at what he has achieved in his lifespan which equals mine. He was passion and excellence personified. You are thinking of the last year, of gains and loss during the year. I am thinking of my lifetime.”

“You think you have done badly?” Lulu asked.

“Well, I feel I have been an ‘also ran.’ Nothing noteworthy. Nothing exceptional.”

There was silence for a while. Lulu and Nina looked at each other. Nina spoke, “I guess you are too harsh on yourself. You have edited a book, translated an English book in Marathi, and authored two books. Isn’t that a good achievement?”  

(Lulu, my parrot)

“People enjoy reading your blogs, and they appreciate your photography” Lulu was consoling my weeping heart.

“I could have done much more, but I lived a life of complacency”.

“Look, everyone feels that his or her life is a life of missed opportunities. You are not the only one. But you are on the wrong track” Lulu hopped and moved closer to me.

“What do you mean?”

“I know what Lulu means; he is saying that you are looking into the rear-view mirror and that’s not the right thing to do” Nina said.

“You said it, Nina! The windshield of a car is fifty or hundred times the area of a rear-view mirror. That’s so with a purpose. An occasional glance at the rear-view mirror is okay, but you must stay focused on the front view, the road ahead.”

I was uncomfortable, and did not know how to communicate my feelings.

“Perhaps your mind is occupied with some other thoughts. Why don’t you share with us?” Nina spoke with a tone of empathy.

“I feel irrelevant, if you understand what I mean” I said.

Nina moved closer to me. Lulu gave me a sympathetic look. There was silence again. It felt as if it was a very long silence.

“You are not irrelevant; it is just that you are not in the mainstream of activities. That’s no fault of yours; it is your age”.

“At your age such a reflection should result in acceptance of one-self as one is. That possibly would lead to a sense of fulfilment”.

“Look, comparison is a trap. It only generates discontentment because we always compare ourselves with someone much better than us. You are comparing Zakir Hussain with yourself. But the Almighty does not produce replicas to compare. HE creates each living thing with uniqueness, be it a bird or a tree or a human being”.

“That’s true. Even twins are not replicas, they are unique in some way”.

“You said it! Uniqueness is the word. We must focus on our uniqueness. Be excellent at what you are good at. Give your best. Be it blogging, photography and the like. You will enjoy it and unknowingly you will make impact on the people around you.”

“You have pasted a beautiful poem under your signature in your email. Must I remind you of it?”

“Tell me”

Pathmaker, there is no path/ You make the path by walking/ By walking, you make the path …

“Let me read this out to you … “The maturity of forgiven,” David Whyte says when talking about this understanding of self, “comes through growing a self which is large enough and compassionate enough to put an arm around the part of you that was hurt and wounded,” around the “part of you that didn’t quite understand what was going on.”

“So much for poetry! Whatever you do, do it whole heartedly. That is the way not to have feeling which Rabindranath Tagore expressed in one of his poems”.

“What’s that?”

I have spent many days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung”.

“Got it, Lulu and Nina”.

Lulu, my parrot and Nina, my myna looked at me. They pushed the fruit plate toward me.

Feature Pic: Courtesy Pixabay