Atongla Rothrong
It was a night, it was such a night, cruising along, free of tension, apartness was out and togetherness was in. Hot blood, Cool cucumber and Chirpy couldn’t wait to get on the road again. Were we coming or rather going we never knew. We just went with the course, free falling eh!
People, did you notice a marble sitter on the way to the state capital, just on the outskirt of Dimapur? Whoever put that seat might have had the three amigo’s in mind because it sit’s exactly three persons and so there goes the three of us. Talk about sunshine on a cloudy day! My days are filled with laughter, the reason being, in anticipation of the evening to come when my two hoodlums would come laughing by and yodel out for Chirpy me. No friend of mine can hold a candle like the cowboys and no one can light up the nights like they do. The moon is my witness and the stars will agree too, that a lassie like me would be as lucky as to cross roads with these two Mavericks.
There was this night when I made a stupid fool (stupidly cute- in the words of Jings) out of myself and guess who came to my rescue? My Hot blood and Cool cucumber, naturally. Even the chilliest of water wouldn’t cool me down like the way my Yankees do. I can’t comprehend as to why some people have to make such a hoola- boola out of our night outs.
Like I always say, ours is a ‘no holds barred’ friendship. It’s a win-win situation. Conversations we have with ourselves, of Mind, spirit and soul, Thoughts, experiences and opinions, perceptions, distortions……..all amalgamated into one entity
With no beginning or end……No definite boundaries……. And we battle against it.
Trio crusaders, against an invisible enemy we’ve never seen or known in any way.
But we always win, without the battle ever having being waged because are not three prayers a perfect strength? Frankly, we have nothing to say unlike ‘everyday heroes’ with fascinating stories proving once more that Truth (relative to time and place) is stranger than fiction.
Our being together cannot be separated from the language or metaphors which form it. If these metaphors do not help us to ‘see’ the world as it is…we will give up. Moral communities may do more than just free us from egocentric self-defense, however. They may also show us what we are not yet able to see on our own. Such communities may involve us in activities that we would fear on our own. They may bring us up short against what we refuse to admit, and jar us back into reality. In sum, they may broaden and deepen our friendship by involving us in it in ways that we might otherwise positively flee.
We can try to live in a world surrounded by loved ones and friends, closing out others who as enemies threaten us or who as strangers are potential threats. But no matters how receptive, attentive and serving we may be in such a world, life lived there alone is not morally mature.
Furthermore, it is only when we come to face those who seem most alien to us that we are able to face what is most alien in those who are closest. It is more difficult to allow ourselves to be vulnerable to and really see a friend’s anger than it is to do so with the anger of an enemy. My cowboys’ loneliness is harder to take than the loneliness of a stranger, and I am more inclined in the first case to refuse to recognize it. The reason for this is simply that, the threat and alienation strike more centrally into the core of my personhood. In these circumstances, my own self is more deeply vulnerable.
The Hot Blood, Cool Cucumber and Chirpy are only human after all is said and done, so give us a break…….got to practice some melodies for the service.