First published on December 20, 2014, here it is again. A simple post but quite memorable. You can look up the author.
The following post was started in 2012, but as is life, I am just wrapping it up. Just in time for some nice positive stories for the New Year.
The following post was started in 2012, but as is life, I am just wrapping it up. Just in time for some nice positive stories for the New Year.
I was talking to a friend/student and she asked me, 'So anything interesting happen?"
Well, no, nothing really.
Yeah, but you meet all these interesting people. No one on the plane?
''Oh, yeah...I actually.'
Yeah, I was on my flight from London to Stockholm, and I sat
next to this tall gentleman, and started chatting.
At first we only talked about what he was reading. ---P.G.
Woodhouse----We talked generally about the weather and life in general.
Then I asked him what he did.
In very simple terms, and very modestly he said, 'I am a
writer'
Really? My eyes went wide.
And then we talked about this work. He writes novels for
young adults, and has written in general on writing and education as well.
We talked about academic writing and he wrinkled his nose, ‘not
my cup of tea’
Ofcourse I am interested in people and their stories. So,
I asked him how he got into writing, did he always want to be a writer, did he
ever pursue any other profession.
He told me that he was a Catholic priest and as he grew he
disconnected from his faith, it meant less and less because it was restricting
to him. I assume an imaginative mind cannot be put down. Since I
have had a personal issue with monotheistic religions, and absolutely disagree
with the rigidity that is imposed by such thinking, I asked him about
meditation and other practices in the church. He stated that the point of
meditation was not to meditate and to be free of thoughts, as it is in Asian
traditions, where the aim is to go beyond duality (us and others) and
find the divinity and vastness within, instead it was only to
focus on the idea of divinity prescribed by the church.
I could understand many of the things he shared, from having
read Joseph Campbell and other authors who talk about their monotheistic
faith falling apart, as they expanded in consciousness.
He spoke with as much love as anyone can imagine. He had no
bitterness or pain as he spoke. It was as if he was relating a story he
had read. When I realized that, I instantly felt that he had reached his
nirvana. He could not be bound by a limited idea of divinity, and may be
that is what led him to delve into the hearts and minds of humans, and being
compassionate.
Why was he flying to Stockholm, I asked. Oh because I have to
be at this university for a lecture….
‘Wow, that is where I work’
‘Really,’ he gave a gentle smile.
Yes, if its ok, I would love to attend the lecture.
Sure, it would be nice.
Soon as I got home, I googled him. He is a well-published,
well-read, well established, award winning novelist.
I sat just being in awe of the fact that I had met and had
a personal conversation with him.
The next day I saw him in the hallway, and he talked to me like
I was an old friend. He held both my hands in his and said, ‘Did you
arrive at home ok?¨
Yes, I nodded nervously. ‘I have some work to do, but I will be
there for your lecture soon.’
Sure, you’re welcome.
I arrived there a little late for the lecture. I had
gotten a simple gift for him—a handmade folder I bought at an emporium in
Delhi. I thought I would give it to him towards the end of the lecture.
He discussed children’s literature. The lecture was
fascinating. And two years later, I still remember him discussing ‘Where the
Wild Things Are.’ And that the shape of the moon in the book would even
imply that the story takes places over several days, rather than one day, as
many assume.
He was center of attention there, but I waited a while to find
him alone so I could hand him that folder. But he was never alone and I,
for some reason felt that it may not be appropriate. I could not step up
to hand him the packet. However, I did walk up, showed my face through
several people who surrounded him, ‘Mr. Chambers, I am going to leave, I have a
class shortly’
He again held my hand so warmly, ‘Thankyou for coming.
We exchanged one email after that. But I know that we are busy
and emails can end up being trite, and that real relations and friendships
happen only over a period of time.
But just meeting him had me feeling giddy for days.
In that short meeting I learnt much, and experienced the warmth
of his person.
At one point, when we were on the plane, I asked him, ‘Does decision
making and making grown up decisions become easier with life?¨
He thought for a short while.
‘I mean are we less concerned about taking wrong decisions as
we get older?’
‘No’ he said with a big smile, and no remorse on his face.
He seemed to be in a good place in his life.
Same place I would like to be, when I am his age.
Wise. So wise.
ReplyDeleteI know. I am always amazed at how much wisdom I can gather in everyday conversations....For that travel and being open is the best teacher. Thanks for reading.
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