The Brave Pedestrian

In the unforgiving light of this morning, Unwilling to open my eyes, Unable to face myself and the world And you, I cower and cringe in bed. I look back at what we said and did last night A night of resentment, simmering anger, Recriminations and vengeful thoughts, Lashing out with clever, witty, cruel remarks… And when the guilt grew intolerable, I lashed out in animal fury. A restless night of tossing and turning, and wishing The bitter conversation had not happened at all, Wishing we could somehow wipe the slate clean And re-establish a peace where neither of us Would feel defeated or rubbished Or guilty. A night of wishing for warmth and love and forgiveness, And also wishing to strike a blow that brought you to your knees in pain… Wishing to wipe your tears, wishing you would wipe mine… I ponder: What part was your fault, and what must I own up? Should I have said what I said? Should I have said it all with the viciousness that I did? And yet, given what you said and did ...

Mumbai, September 9, 2013:  Today, on this occasion called Samvatsari Pratikraman, many Jains will  typically to call me and say, “Michhami dukkadam” i.e. ‘I desire your  forgiveness (for any pain i might have caused you with my words or deeds)’. They will call because that’s the done-thing today… and not because anybody remembers ever hurting me. And to all of them, what I want to say with a smile is: Don’t say it. To hurt me, you need to be within arm’s length of me — punching distance of me. You are just a remote acquaintance; we barely know each other. Don’t say it ritually, because I will not reciprocate. But please look at those who are so close to you, whom you have routinely wounded with a mere gesture, or absence of a gesture. You would have wounded them throughout the year, and throughout your lifetime, with hurtful words, inconsiderate gestures and selfish acts. I don’t want to preach to you… but I am angry. If you are...