In his classic novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Czech-French writer Milan Kundera all but tells us in explicit terms that life is about “momentary beauty” rather than the attainment of some “ultimate goal”. As I look back on 2023, I cannot help but soak in that ethos, if only momentarily.
The last year brought me plenty of opportunities to reflect on, even flirt with, Kundera’s sense of beauty. In the beginning of the year, I found myself in hospital, struck by a major illness. It did not help that the novel I was reading, To the Ends of the Earth by William Golding, was laced with people who were dying at the drop of a hat. I thought to myself how I could have been those people. And then, the realisation dawned on me that it was not all that bad, you know, to be enjoying Golding in the surreal quiet of a hospital room. Followed by another realisation — I would not have resonated so deeply with the novel’s words had I been in the pink of health. That is the way I feel about every book I read these days. That I ‘resonate’ with it. Maybe it is a means of finding meaning in a meaningless world. Or, as Kundera would have us believe in his inimitable prose, a slice of “momentary beauty”.
New Year’s celebrations are a proof of how happiness is nothing but momentary
Flash forward to the last month of the year, and here I am, 15kg lighter (literally speaking, but also metaphorically!). It feels like I have shed a good amount of mental baggage, too. Removing toxic people from my life, just as easily as eliminating kaju katli. More than anything, I have learned to live in the moment. To accept life for what it is, good or bad. Not thinking about what I will be doing in the next moment. Or a couple of hours from now, even. Or perhaps at midnight, when everyone will be screaming “Happy New Year”, dancing away feverishly — an activity that will continue into the wee hours of the morning.
Shouting “Happy New Year” at the top of your lungs following the DJ’s countdown is akin to kissing the bride after you get permission from the priest! You celebrate hard, until you wake up the next morning in your pyjamas, groggy from a hangover and little sleep. Worse still, tomorrow is a Monday! You desperately want to return to the high of the moment when you screamed “Happy New Year”. But, if anything, it is further proof of how happiness is nothing but momentary.
Only seconds after the grand announcement heralding the arrival of 2024, a certain Mr Menon might be scolded by his wife for flirting with Sheela, whose botox-inspired jawani gave Mrs Menon a serious complex the minute she walked into the New Year’s party on their building terrace. Needless to say, botox or not, Sheela is getting older with every passing New Year. We all are. I remember the time we would make all those grandiose plans for “New Year’s parties with unlimited booze”. We truly believed there was no end to the amount of drinks we could have!
I was forever in some place in the distant future, searching for something that was never really there
Most of our tendencies lie in acquiring things, which get heightened at the start of a fresh year Pixabay
With age, though, I have matured like fine wine. I am no longer thinking of ways to cater to my senses. Instead, I am looking to foster connections with people. The people I love, even those I do not yet know. But, most importantly, I am learning to let go.
In 2023, I met some people who made a profound impression on me. People who just turned up, like the right book at the right time. However thankful I might be for their presence, I am also happy to let them go. In a sense, I already have. Earlier, every New Year, I would make resolutions to work hard towards something or the other, be it fitness or success. Gradually, I realised I was forever in some place in the distant future, searching for something that was never really there.
Whether it is a Gucci bag or a stranger we wish to befriend, our tendency lies in acquiring things. When Mr Menon looked at Sheela that night, he pictured himself in bed with her almost instantly. The same way his wife glanced at Kanta’s Gucci bag, silently thinking: “That skank! I bet it’s a fake bag. Next week, I’ll take Ramesh (Mr Menon) to the Gucci store. And have kachoris later.” In all probability, Mr Menon will be confined to thoughts of Sheela while he is in the shower, while his wife will get her bag in due course, flashing it in Kanta’s face at their next kitty.
But does having things make us happier? Are we not ‘lighter’ without them?
The less I need, the ‘lighter’ I am
This New Year, I want to love what I have now. The people in my life, the things I possess. The more I retreat into the now, the less I need. The less I need, the ‘lighter’ I am. Like, just yesterday, when I gave a girl some money, and she shook my hand, beaming like I had just made her life. Well, at least I had made a moment for her!
Those beautiful people I met in 2023, I am not hankering to meet again. I met them that one time in my life, and it was beautiful. Is that not enough? Should it not be?
To all my wonderful readers, you are fabulous! When you read these words, we share a connection. Even though it might not be in real time, of course. A connection that is special, like you. But it is going to be 2024 soon, and for the sake of propriety, I must make a resolution.
And so this is it: To live and love in the now.
The acquisition of things or people bears heavily on us. The only thing we seek is the one thing we need not run after — mad, hopeless love… The ‘lightest’ thing of all.
Rohit Trilokekar is a novelist from Mumbai who flirts with the idea of what it means to love. His heart’s compass swerves ever so often towards Kolkata, the city he believes has the most discerning literary audience.
