Wabi Sabi

Before leaving for this contest, I preened myself before the mirror, sucked in my stomach turned this way and that, brushed my hair a bit, and was left unsatisfied. I was not perfectly groomed or the Adonis I wanted to be.

I was imperfect – I could see the grays shining through the black, the stubble that missed the  razor, the pimple below my eye,  My four pack abs, and the shadows below my eyes. I was disappointed.

I could also see tension on my face, as I could not remember for the life of me, all that I had practiced the previous evening for today’s speech. I was still uncertain of how I’ll perform – I wanted to be perfect, but I knew I was not, and it upset me.

I stepped out of the house onto the interlocks that adorned the front of my compound and… noticed the two or three chipped blocks that for me stood out among the rest.

I was even more upset, when after I started my bike, I would that the mirror on my left handle had a crack in it and my face was showing up in duplicate. I’ve always liked my vehicle to be perfect, and I made a mental note to have it repaired.

At home too, I often see imperfections everyday, a finger print stained wall, a scrappy sofa that has seen our life’s ups and downs, peeling paint in some locations, a little dampness in the corner of the roof and the like.

I find my own missing tiles in what others have and I don’t - a bigger car, a perfect body a better voice and better speech!

The result – I  am generally upset and unhappy.

Then I learned about the Japanese concept of wabisabi, or “imperfect beauty.” The concept has its roots in the traditional Japanese tea ceremony and is sometimes explained by using the example of a well-loved teacup, made by an artist’s hands, cracked or chipped by use. Such traces remind the observer that nothing is permanent — even fixed objects are subject to change.

The Japanese philosophy celebrates beauty in what's natural, flaws and all. The antique bowls above are prized because of (not in spite of) their drips and cracks. What if we learned to prize the drips and cracks in our messy lives? 

The classical Greek ideal of beauty, which underpins much of the Western physical aesthetic, celebrates smooth, symmetrical perfection. Wabi Sabi prizes authenticity. 

The cracks in the old teacup are seen as assets rather than flaws.  Robyn Griggs Lawrence, author of Simply Imperfect: Revisiting the Wabi-Sabi House (New Society Publishers, 2011). “It’s the true acceptance of finding beauty in things as they are.”

In India, most of us grew up with a worldview that is decidedly more influenced by the West. Unless our bodies fit a certain ideal, we resent them. In our culture, "We're brought up to strive for the best, the brightest, and most extraordinary, be it marks or  career or even marriage.

This is where adopting a wabi-sabi outlook can be eye opening — and mind opening.

By perceiving ourselves through this generous lens, we can stop endlessly striving for the ideal body and focus instead on real physical health. All it takes is a shift in perception.

I no longer consider all the flaws I see in myself or things around me as imperfections that must be expunged, obliterated or even covered.

Abandoning "Perfect"

I think of the paraphernalia my young daughter used to  pick up on our walks in Cubbon  Park in blore, things I stopped noticing long ago -- discarded feathers, stones worn shiny by water. They're drawn to these treasures for their expressive textures, shapes, and colors, each thing unique in the world. So miraculous just the way they are, and yet so simple.

It may not be natural to us to seek pleasure in a Japanese concept that celebrates rust. But all it needs is acceptance of the imperfect – It gives you a freedom you cant even imagine! The suffering comes when there’s a craving for it to be different.”

And Braver souls sometimes turn their so-called imperfections into signatures. “Ask yourself: What can you find beautiful about what you’re now calling a flaw? And could you embrace that?” suggests Arielle Ford, - take for instance a mole on the face or upper lip. A grey beard, because u cant use color.

ACCEPTING CHANGE

“Beautiful young people are accidents of nature,” said Eleanor Roosevelt, “but beautiful old people are works of art.”

This is good for me to remember, as I note that in addition to the wrinkles around my eyes, aging is also apparent in my hands. The skin is becoming thinner, making the veins and bones more prominent, revealing tiny cracks along the skin’s surface.

That said, I’m not ready to even imagine not dyeing my hair. Yet many men fearlessly embrace their silver strands.

I recall that as I was leaving the house on my bike,  I ran across an old lady from Gadag. She stays at our house, along with her daughter, grand daughter and great grand daughter and I was struck by her serenity in comparison to mine.

Her face was lined, having weathered many storms, but I detected a strange beauty in her something I could now recognize because I had learned Wabi Sabi.

I had found my missing tiles and though they were not perfect, they fit perfectly and that was good enough for me!

The S Word

The S Word seems to be a favorite of the government of India. It started off in May 2014 with Sevak, SAARC and Shah, and then came Swacch, Skill up, Start up and Stand up, following which, the government became Smart city bred, raised the Service tax and imposed more than one Sess!

A corruption free two years led to changing expectations. People became comfortable with Sacche Din and no longer ask for Acche Din. A real transformation!.  But there is a fly in the ointment... There are other S words that are churning up the political discourse - Shout, Shoot, Suspend, Terrorist Strike, Suspect, and the much debated Sedition!

The S word was taboo until now, and the likes of the Film Certification board, often called the Censor board, rather than the Sensor board it should be (another S word that remains unused), had banned it from drawing rooms. It does seem however, that they are at loggerheads with the Government over the use of the word - Its banned in films but liberally used in political discourse.

Why does the Government like the S Word so much? The S word is Special. It has the right curvature, to suit Indian Aesthetics and the right kind of Phonetics which make for good vocal delivery - no lip curling - and therefore good television. It also adds flair to the Slogan, attracting people to policies that maximize its usage, much like the original S word perhaps!

What is unique is that these Government sponsored S words, have nothing to do with the original sin or subsequent Chinese remakes.  These are original and coined exclusively for a transforming India, and much appreciated in the 40 Countries where they have been mentioned on Prime ministerial visits over the last couple of years, even drawing appreciation from the UN. They even seem to have acted as a mood enhancer in the case of the moody Moody!

However, all these S words have not so far pushed India up the Happiness Index (117 out of 158 Countries) which in effect means that India remains high on the Sadness index. It on account of this, that the opposition has been critical of the Sound and fury.  But, hope lies eternal, that with all the S words flying around, we will get there, and Soon!

One S Word the Government seems keen on avoiding though, is the word Shining. As the Saying goes, once bitten, twice Shy!

The Child in me....

There is a child in every one of us adults.  You agree? You don’t?  There.  The stubborn child is showing his face.

The lesson? It does not matter if you do or you don’t agree, he, or is it she?  will show its face, sometime….

Today I will deal with this conundrum from the male perspective.  I can’t do it from the female perspective even though I like them very much. J

The Child is the father of the man.  So said William Wordsworth centuries ago in his poem “My heart leaps up”.  It is still a universally accepted maxim, because time and Google have tested it.  No matter how much you deny it …. Like you there.

This truism becomes evident when man behaves like one, craving for affection, dependent, and subservient to  his partner even is his wildest moments (that’s the politically correct word, with a curative petition lying the supreme Court) - asking for chocolates and getting reprimanded, asking for freedom and sent to the corner, asking for a sleep over and being grounded!

Good morning toastmasters, yes, I too have one in me. But I come from a patriarchal family like all of you do and I tell him to shut up almost as often as he rears his head. I know what’s best for him and more importantly, me. Just shut up I say, when he comes up with outrageous ideas – of course in his innocence – He is a child and guileless after all, and he doesn’t take sides, generally.

Good for me - keeps me stable, but bad for him - spoils his creativity.

I've seen life on earth for over half a century, but thanks to the child in me, I like to believe that I don’t seem to have that kind of experienced look on my face! That's the good part. But there's more to come. My child is kind of bubbly and rebellious, and the bubbles surface, quite often, when protocol and political correctness demand otherwise.

The dialogue often goes like this, when I come home from office, after what I think is a particularly successful day for me.

“Come on Dad, I want to celebrate. Let’s go out to a restaurant tonight and have fun”.  “I know, I too want to, but Mum is not feeling well and the kids have exams, I say rather disappointedly (this before my wife even tells me that - By now I am attuned to her thinking on various subjects)

“Oh Come on dude”... he starts again, “you've forgotten how to have fun, you are such an old fogey”.

By now, I know what’s good for me and the kids. I can afford to ignore my own virtual kid. And that’s what I do and when he continues to harangue me, I tell him to shut up. He gets repressed, I get depressed....and the rebellion begins.  I sulk and go quiet - all of a sudden. My wife and kids wonder what’s happened to this guy, who till a moment ago was all smiles and in a good mood – They put it down to mood swings associated with Men when they pause.

Another profound question that tests the depth of my insight is whether the child in me is male or female. Sometimes I believe it's the opposite gender, when unexpectedly, as I am making a speech that narrates an event of compassion or goodness among human beings, something I value very much, tears well up. People find it strange.  A grown man crying! But let me tell you, I am not prone to it…. My kid is.

It has happened before, when I gave a farewell speech to my staff at my last employment. There were tears in my eyes, and I had to leave the room in the middle of the speech. People called me emotional, but it was the child in me that egged me on to become a scientist - generate water from nothing.  It won’t happen today… and if it does, you know who is crying….

Now I know it is sexist to say that tears are associated with feminine gender, but let’s say, they are more prone to them, so all I can say is that the child in me has some, if not all the feminine characteristics.  There is one more.

My kid gets hurt much more easily, especially when I deny her subtle hints, and keeps that hurt inside, and brings it out at inappropriate moments, like when I don’t have the appetite for fight with the wife, my kid will make me say or do things that will provoke just that - There was this occasion when my wife said lets go to Melissa’s house for dinner (she had already promised her, we would, without asking me) – and  I say - you go - give some excuse for me. ! I would not have said that without strong prompting, believe me! My kid told me he / she would find it boring.

But it’s good to have a child in you; they tend to keep you young.

But they are innocent and guileless, but they have to compete with the adult who is full of guile, guilt and delusions of grandeur, and often it’s no competition.  In fact I would have slept off today, just as the kid in me wanted to, had I not been a stern dad, knowledgeable in the ways of the world, and there my friends lies the rub….