Ravia Gupta
Dear Motherland,
“If I were hanged on the highest hill,
I know whose love would follow me still,
If I were drowned in the deepest sea,
I know whose tears would come down to me,
If I were damned of body and soul,
I know whose prayers would make me whole,
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!”
Do I love you? Do I hate you? Or do I want to fall in love with you at least in this life time? Whatever the answer may be, one thing is sure that I am surely striving hard to express the joy of being so fortunate to be with you around. Thanks to all that is working in my life in absolute harmony to stay connected with my roots and of course you!
Creativity, they say, is the womb from which individuality blossoms. It’s a pleasure to see how despite the changes across the globe, some creative minds are struggling still to find ways to stay connected with roots and remind me of my motherland in this transformative world, which, by now, has found an alternative to almost everything, expect for you, I guess!
Frankly writing to you my dear motherland, don’t mind, but just like any other child I, too, have an endless list of complaints. Starting from the fact that I know too little about you, no one narrated your true story to me. I was never told about your beauty, your wisdom, your courage, your richness and abundance was not given a chance to grow deep inside me.
Your struggles to keep us alive and rooted, your sacrifices, like all mothers, I am sure, must be several and worth telling, but sadly, were not told when I was young and wanted to create a store house of my own proud memories and stories for life-time to be shared with others once I grew up. Your share of space in my heart is still missing and wonder if I alone would be able to fill that gap. I truly wish to, but somehow, don’t know the way to start falling in love with you all over again.
I, too, want to imbibe your true spirit of acceptance and forgiveness, embrace you inside out and reflect you through every deed of my life. I, too, wished to have those sparkling eyes, filled with pride and endless love, the way my other cousins have. I admire the way they carry their culture on their sleeves during college festivals. I missed, flaunting the traditional attire, jewelry, folk dance, song and everything else that would have exhibited the greatness of you through my small moves, especially when I traveled to different places and introduced you through me. This definitely would have been a shorter way of moving a step closer in connecting with you and in-a-way finding a true me.
Often, I felt and now deeply regret, how could I ever think that may be you were not good enough? How could my successors fail to portray you beautifully in my thoughts, words and actions and leave me this confused? I sure, don’t want my predecessors to think of you in such confusing and conflicting ways; after all, it’s high time the knowledge era contributed its bit in reflecting on you and giving you your due!
Another complaint that I have is why you did not provide me with enough opportunities and made me grow with this horrible feeling of having born in a land of less opportunities. I, too, want to shine and excel like my other siblings in other parts of the country. I, too, want to experience a free me, financial independence, enjoy the benefits of my hard-earned labour by indulging in everything that expands my life’s physical and spiritual growth. I too wish to earn my share of sustainable living, which multiplies in terms of return when cared for and shared with others!
Now, when I am almost about to finish, clouds of darkness are hovering my mind again and making me feel what good am I doing to give you your due in the ways that I can do? A slight ray of hope is shimmering through this letter in which all the confusing thoughts grown since years are finally finding an out let and unlearn all that came in our way of connecting with each other.
Often, I felt that why was I born in this part of the world where people looked down upon each other. Everywhere else when people meet their own countrymen or people from own place who share similar language, culture etc, connect immediately and bond instantly. But the window from where I am looking at the world, the moment people from my motherland come to know that they have something in common, instead of attracting to each other, they somehow start to repel. How, I just hope that people from my home land were most compassionate towards each other and deepen their appreciation for themselves and others around. How I wish they understand from the depths of their life that each person’s individuality is as unique as cherry, plum, peach or blossoms and be in harmony with nature and take full responsibility for future generations for them to be in peace with themselves and their environment, for them to think and write in one language unlike me as:
“I am a wanderer without a home,
My eyes lost their light years ago
They came, they plundered. They left me dazed,
Uprooted the little plant of my garden,
My beloved had not gone very far
Before they served the trembling branches from him
Do the raping and saw and sickle belong to you?” — Padma Sachdev
With the hope to connect with you more passionately, not in some other lifetime but in this lifetime only, my beloved motherland!
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