नोट : सिगरेट की फोटो इसलिए लगाई है क्योंकि बीड़ी की फोटो लेने से पहले ही उसे पी लिया।
भाई साहब एक बीड़ी मिलेगी?
अब पूछ लिया है तो देनी ही पड़ेगी….
अगर अपने पास न हो, तो नया बण्डल खरीद के देनी पड़ेगी।
– बीड़ी बाज़ उस्ताद शेयर करने में विशवास रखते हैं
There is a story. Once upon a time, there was a farmer. He had two sons. The older one used to work on farms and rear cattle. The younger one used to go out and not contribute anything to the farm work. The father had to divide his estate into two parts so he divided it. The younger son left home and spent that money on whores, to gamble and to drink. After that money got finished, he returned home and begged his father to allow him to work on the farm. The father then threw a big fat party on the homecoming of his younger son. When the older son asked why he wasn’t showered with such celebrations while he was there all the time at home, the father replied, “You were here because you thought you should be here. He is here out of choice. And that’s what matters”. And the younger son’s return was accepted. The one who grinded his ass working with his father got no recognition at all while the jerk became the prodigal son,
This story is there in Bible. A similar story is there in Buddhism. But that’s not the point. The point is that the younger son could have never returned. What would have happened then?
This story fills the head of people with subtle morality and ethics towards the people who seem to give you resources. They can be parents or teachers or anybody. Those people who give you access to resources have hidden expectations that one day you will become wise and return to them. But that makes no fucking sense. A man who has spent his time and money on what he really wanted to do will not come back and stick feathers up his butt to dance like a peacock. That’s what people with guilt feelings do. They feel sorry and return and do favours.
The one who does things on free will cares for no outcome and takes responsibility for oneself. And those people seldom get back to where they started from. Some people have this innate desire to build their own world and never look back. They keep on sailing ahead while losing sight of the shore. The prodigal son was a weak ass dude who could not sustain his life on his own and that’s why he had no choice but to get back home. Not every son does what the prodigal son did. And not every son who leaves home does so to get back home one fine day when a moment of realisation occurs. Some birds just fly. And they keep on flying.
The prodigal son doesn’t return. He begins to work at the bar where he used to drink. Slowly he starts to make some money and spends it the way he wants. The older son keeps working on the farm and the family soon forgets that they had a younger son. The younger son re-names himself and lives his life free from any sort of guilt and so-called social expectations. He becomes the original son.
Being forcibly a good person is not what a good person does. They are who they are and not give a damn. If being good involves not doing what you want to do, that is not being good. That is being weak. And in my story, the younger son will not return. He is not good. He is strong. He is not prodigal. He is original.
The original son left home to never ever return. And the good son kept on grinding his ass to never ever leave home.
भाई साहब की दी हुई बीड़ी खत्म। और समाप्त हुआ अपना किस्सा भी।
जय राम जी की।