evolution

evolution

He was born and grew up in the normal way..... thinking back the normal had some abnormality

He looked up to the horizon, crimson red with so many silver linings now almost fading as the darkness devour what ever left of the day. The beach seemed to be very serene but for the tides just starting to rise . Jerome got up patting away the sand . He drove back to his house 30 kms from the beach, a lonely and boring ride indeed. But a couple of beers he had on the beach was quite a mood maker. He was out of his cigarette stock. He stopped his car just to buy a pack of cigarette from the mobile vendor commonly known as thattukada, in service after dusk, operated on kerosene stoves mounted on a wooden platform with four wooden wheels to be pushed around. The vendor, a skinny medium tall man was all muscles with a thalekkettu-a small turban on the head with a locally woven white thin and rough piece of cloth -and a match box stuck at it’s side. He seems to have permanently glued a half smoked beedi - a local thin cigar made of cheap tobacco neatly and tightly rolled in a dried leaf-to his thick dark lips. His thattukada was busy and some college boys were laughing over petty jokes. The sight of a car made the vendor to wipe his wet hands on his lunki (piece of printed cloth worn over the waist covering up to the ankle and folded back, up to the knee) and run towards the vehicle “Muthalali,(land lord) can I help you.” A packet of cigarette was carefully brought to Jerome from the makeshift shelve. The boys were yet laughing and jumping over may be some sexy jokes , reminding Jerome of his college days. How funny it was. A time when everything was working - the mind, heart, physic. Only they never did the balancing part of it. Yes, years have passed since. This same spot were these boys have gathered, under the same Tree. The thoughts took him to an unforgotten past. A child hood full of love and care. A student and a journey to unknown lands. Seminary, chosen by his immature mind.

When recognition was sought by differences, odds are always a way of heroism. Where immature thoughts and random convictions were highlighted as principles. When thoughts such as “each day we live is each day we die” and “a man can not own anything” preoccupied mind. Jerome was confused in thoughts in many ways. Perhaps certain convictions stung to his mind during his priesthood formation days. The philosophical studies, the influence of the idealists, the appearance and reality of Russel , the existentialism of Kierkgard, the skeptics and hedonists. Et al . All the schools of thoughts though a means to find the ultimate reality narrowed themselves in young Jerome`s mind as discardable convictions and distractions. A mere secluded mind confused knowing not on which one to hang on. A lack of guidance where all guidance were at hand. Each thought became more truthful than the other. Where we forget the purpose but the way to reach becomes the final goal. The means becoming the end. Cowardice in pursuance. Ignorance of a selfish lazy mind. The childhood where identity was sought through contrasts - to be different and when differences become identical misadventures and irrational conclusions guided life. Notoriety was mistaken for fame. The quest to project , to be recognized , to be the odd man out, undisciplined where discipline was the motto, and to achieve ,seeks through monstrous ways. The life guided by the seminary bells. The early morning bell , an instruction to jump from the bed as if the bed is on fire and kneel and pray “ this is the voice of the Lord , calling me, let me go and serve Him”. The naughty senior who once twisted the whole prayer for a moments suppressed laughter and human respect“ this is the voice of the Lord disturbing me, let me request and stop Him”. The laughs on silly jokes and tricks of the classroom buffoons. Life , full of life. Jerome became Brother Jerome amidst the echo of these commanding bells. Twenty Five years back. From the high school to the high priest hood. A leap his teenage mind could never contain. But there was a desire , to serve , to be good , to be a man who goes around in this evil world in a clean white rob preaching love and be a light to the world. Past was a part of Jerome , very near though , as if a dream like last nights dream. Unable to forget. Yet far enough to cherish. The past, the dead 25 years of searching. A life of lonely treading . A confused mind where models were often changed. Religion was just a convenience. God was own interpretations. As if his thoughts gave God`s existence. A change from the idealism to hedonism. Freedom after 8 years of closeted life. The sound of Seminary bells became distant cries. The freedom . The excess of it. The clash of philosophy , the idea and the reality. The fear of insecurity. The guilty conscious. The only prayer to free from freedom. The struggle to earn own livelihood. The pretensions to be a scholar , very bookish. The first day of a job.. utter failure. Confrontations, a judgment passed by the lesser self- choosing the lesser evil is practiced in day today life. But never settling on a principle. A lonely life- Jerome realized. From Brother Jerome to Mister Jerome. Unprotected - non rustproof. An Orthodox Syrian catholic , wandering in the Northern Hindu Dominated states of India trying to establish himself . A struggle he was not prepared for. A life without definitive plans but a vague purpose to succeed. Not knowing what success is aimed . Money became a purpose for he felt the scarcity. Love became a purpose for he felt lonely. And yet he could never conclude what makes him best. His needs weren't met , and thus made him unhappy. But could never make money for he never knew how. Rejecting love when love was most needed. The vain ego , self is sufficient to live was proved wrong at a later stage. Wanted to be a revolutionary, but did not know what to revolt. Where was the mistake. Why wasn’t there enough strength and courage to be oneself. Why the very thing rejected publicly is being adored secretly. A hypocrisy crept in his formation days now revealing itself challenging his composure. Why this fear? The clash of the shy young boy and the revolution of a timid adult , confused by so many theories left incomplete in his mind. All convincing yet nothing conclusive. The weakness of not knowing to say NO was interpreted as affirmative and a consent. Lillian was one who took it as YES. A widow with two children. A buxom woman with crazy ideas and inviting fragrance. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. The touch of those heaving full breasts during a Christmas dance program in the local club after an unusually heavy drink ended up in a mess. The inexperienced emotional creep Jerome was. The guilt, easily felt since a biased mind was already built in him by the formation days , coupled with the stare of society's so called gentlemen , as Jerome knows then, as not a moral call but envious undercurrents of greedy men, made him to run. The inequities shadowing him on every move. The child in him wept, the adult in him struggled, the spirit in him weakened and the flesh craved. The gap was never bridged. The cavity never leveled, the hunger never satisfied. The thirst never quenched. Misfortunes hunted him down. Problems at home shattered his freedom. He wanted to end his unwanted freedom though. His dad lost his job, brother had no means to survive . The very home he thought of to support was sinking. Jerome who thought spending was his strength had to search for ways to feed his people.

A distant relation was handy in the Middle east. Trying to search a future in the desert. A lovely idea and more than that it was a perfect escape. That's the beginning of another era. A second life though shadows never left him free. The very Jerome who was searching for the ultimate truth now started to search for a job. The game of survival just begun. The stark realities of life landed on him like a thunder bolt. Dubai , a land of many opportunities had nothing more to offer him. The time was limited and there wasn’t much time to choose. He took up his first job that came on his way. Another experience - the inhuman treatment of his Pakistani bosses. A company boasted of the best had nothing praise worthy. Jerome was first among the equals. Equality in harassment and torture. A life controlled not by the principles of nature or Gods commandments. But stringent visa regulations and money power. Jerome wanted to revolt. And he knew what. But revolt he could not, because the consequences were known. His weak circumstances enslaved him. Freedom he craved again. It was like from frying pan to the fire. The life's values and virtues talked in the forms of nuts and bolts: commission and orders: customer service and profits. In him the idealist died, the hedonist starved, Russel`s appearance became a reality to face, the feelings took a back seat. Forcefully he had to believe what he wished to disdain. The imperfections became more imperfect. His dream Life stopped, and the decaying process had caught up its pace. A new feeling was taking place instead. To share, to belong to someone to share this death. Jerome wanted to own. Some one, tired of being lonely. Emotions took its toll. The inner spirit was replaced by the distilled spirit in despair. Sleep was replaced by unconscious spells. On such a spell he dreamt. A faint dream .. a distant cry. For a companion. And that's how he got married. A simple girl. Full of love . Matured & pious. Far committed than himself. She surrendered. The smell of his own woman. A satisfaction - a relationship to boast. A time of revival. A partner and a companion. Some one to cry with, someone to trust. A lovely girl was born, who would call him Dad. A precious designation. One new leaf in the book of the living. And another added just a year later.

Johnson v dev Johnsonvdev@rediffmail.com