Black and White

Life is rarely simple. It can be of course, but most of us do not find it so. What makes life so complicated for us? Why are there so many things to balance? How did we reach a stage where we each give ourselves an endless list of achievements to be successfully attained before we are a certain age? The constant drain on one’s energy to be all you can be is probably one of the major reasons why stress eats its way into our lives leaving us far less capable of dealing with emotional conflicts.

When I was a child, things were very clearly either black or white. There was never any room for greys. I did not do my thinking on my own for I was told what was right and what was wrong. There was no scope for improvisation and no flexibility in interpreting situations as falling into neither category. You were good or bad. A good girl did only the following things. A bad girl was anyone who missed out on an item in the list. Even happiness and sadness were clear cut- one couldn’t indulge in both at the same time.

And yet even at the age of seven, I knew inexplicable moments of sadness and periods of detachment. I could view my family as from the outside and wonder how I even fit in. The curious mix of love and hate that exists among siblings was perhaps what made me first question whether a simple one-dimensional answer could suffice as an explanation. The blacks were less black and the whites not quite so pristine by the time I left to stay in various hostels but I continued to be judgmental for many years after.

It took many more years before the greys began seeping into my life. I did not know what constituted right anymore. For I had always been ‘good’ and yet life got more difficult as I grew older and I often felt singled out for punishment from some unseen power. Then why be good? Pristine living didn’t ensure that divine wrath would be eternally deflected. I railed against a God who could make my father go through his painful degeneration due to terminal cancer and eventual death. I could not understand why a sweet child like my son should have to go through endless tough times while I could only stand by and watch helplessly. So there crept in large grey areas of faithlessness into my formerly believing self.

Gradually I have stopped believing in either black or white. Nothing is as it seems. The love you see today may turn to vitriolic hate tomorrow. The sadness you go through can instantly be converted into joy. Life is full of colour if you see it without judgement and live your life as if only the moment matters. And even grey is a beautiful colour – it is the colour of acceptance without judgement...