The walk together

We walked together, my father and me

A feather from nowhere flew in front of us

With an expression of deep pleasure 

For the feather to rest, my father held his palms together

He said he knew the quill well, long before I was born.

It was the belonging of a bird who lives many stories

And someday disappears to return to the child who will be to follow.

This bird is mine and the feather carries memories

I was intrigued at the mention of memories and immediately requested

What else does the feather say?

As he  read the feather and the message was as follows

There is a decoration  about which we are to be proud

The owner was unpretentious and kept the matter in humble mention

He lived a mundane life with the common success and errors in  his mind

He assured his father was never disrespected

 Because to the common he was reputed

As years passed the little piece of metal was safely kept away into a common mans chest

I was shown this piece when I was a child

and often had a feeling  of pride

With time I too lost the thought

to some part of my pleasant memory.

In the meantime the tinker lay in the darkness of the chest quietly

So dark it was that a generation passed by

Lonely and untouched it thought it was lost to the abysmal depth of the timeless

And look now this feather has reminded me of the forgotten medal.

They who forgot to value, forgot it even existed

And quietly we walked along

I could feel my father feel his begetter

On inquiry I was able to retrieve the medal from an aunt who loved me.

She was prompt to give it to me as a family memoire

When I showed my father his lost inheritance

there was a face flushed with memories

But once I saw the eyes of a son

the pleasure of being identified through his father

Nearly a century later the tinker found its value

as a memory keeper  to our family

And with silent pride in the heavens he heard – we love you father.

As we walked the stretch talking about the medal

My attention was drawn off the feather

I realized that it had disappeared and my father’s hand was by his side following the swing of his stride.

To my surprise he reassured that the feather will come back at another time

When I shall walk the stretch with my son

 to remind me of something I will have forgotten

and hence is preserved the link – not in the object with the memory

but the bird who sheds a  feather in its flight

A beautiful mind is a wonderful reading. I read the book after seeing the movie and there is no doubt that the movie is a wonderful remake of the books content. It is an amazing story of a genius, as has been commented in so many of its reviews. The genius in Prof Nash remains exceptional and at the same time seen a common form among many other men and women of the same order esp among mathematicians. My attention however was drawn to another aspect of the story line. It is the story of the understanding and changing attitude towards the illness which we today s easily recognize as schizophrenia. This is an amazing illness both due to its intellectual association and its shadowy presence throughout human civilization and its evolution. It will not be wrong to say that society has cultivated this kind of mind related illness and started preserving them among us, and not for reasons of mere succor but also due to the unparallel contributions they have made. Is this then a cultural strength or the outcome of liberal views?

Men and women lived during the ages of darkness, had children, cultivated lands had their meals and died at a certain age. We still do the same with yet immense light beyond the darkness, we have lit. We still have the same adversities and the same distance, the same lack of essentials in spite of the amazing scientific progress we have made in the century gone by. And yet we all agree that we are in the right direction of progress. Where then do we place Nash and Ramanujan? This is the investment that we do in our society waiting for spurts of progress. Don’t we  also risk the possibility of increasing such personalities traits in the community? A rather objectionable thought!  I thence come to my greater enduring point. The role of science in the understanding of this and similar illness. Today we have been able to understand the psychopathology of this illness with fair certainty and yet more will be known in years to come. We are able to intervene early in organized societies and thereby allow their strengths to be recruited. During my last 15 years into clinical practice I have seen a remarkable change in the approach to such patients and their betterment. I have experienced depression and anxiety beyond limits myself. I have experienced the benefits of insight development. I have come in close correspondence with existentialism and a lingering tag of , if not schizophrenia, something close to it.

And some day in my dream

I see myself  surrounded in me

Cluttered by resounding staplers

I protest in the wake of freedom

We exist and they fail to agree

Who but our  own reflections

Simmering beneath  a running stream

Pratyush