I Am Not A Man
Manmohan Dutta —————————————- What am I? I am a man. But I do not have humanity in me. In order to have humanity one has to master the art of showcasing hypocrisy, a variance in words and deeds; one must partake of chest-thumping, manifest activism, and arrogance. But I am unable to do all that. Therefore there is no humanity in me. I am unnatural and insane. But those who call themselves human beings—I do not see any natural stability in them either. The whole world is manic. Perhaps that is the reason it is unable to comprehend its different streaks and qualities. And so I am insane. I know this world is but a game of shadows; our existence a seductive trompe l’oeil. I have come alone and will disappear so. None will come along with me. I have realized that one requires both friends and enemies. Just friends will not do. That is why I and my kind of people are not humans. The creatures who call themselves humans loathe us. What shall we do? I am the forest flower. I took birth in the forest. In the forest is all my lingering. I persist there. I do not mind anyone’s not calling me a human. But my only thought, my heart’s desire, is that I should perish in the forest too. Let my final bed be spread amidst the hushed, caring lap of vana-devi. Let me merge and mingle where every atom cries that aching song. There are so many people in this world. So many are rich, others well-regarded, then there are the poor, or stupid, scholarly many, happy or sorrowful, small and big—all are but humans. But not me. Who am I? I am not any other creature. But I could not become a man worthy of his name. So I am mad. Why mad? Because I realize that to work silently here is a waste of energy. Only the one who, with great fanfare, can trump up his eminence and power is mobile. The silent one is dead. I usually do not smile. Why don’t I smile? Is there any subject at which one can smile? Some people smile in order to annoy somebody else. Some other fellow smiles so that he can sweeten and mollify another’s mind. I do not like such smiles. I do not have any interest. So I do not smile. What is smiling? At some beautiful high point of our mind is the source of true smile. Meaningful contortions and distortions of facial muscles have nothing to do with smiling. Where has that smile gone—that truest form of smile that arises from the deepest region of the soul, traipsing along, rejuvenating our heart and mind, reverberating through our veins and arteries? I realize the worth of such a smile. Whereof I cannot smile, thereof I remain silent. So I am a pariah in human society. Therefore I am not a human. I do not have humanity in me. I am useless, insane! Selflessness is the maddest option in this world. So, my kind of people are insane and useless to others. Everyone has one purpose or another. But I don’t have any. Humans are selfish. In every pore and atom of his heart the seed and imprimatur of the self is embossed. Selflessness is a subject beyond their ken. So I am insane. I am useless. Yes, that is the reason that the infant or the teenager, the young man, the middle-aged or the elderly—no one can tolerate me. As soon as they see me, their spite and enviousness automatically spring up. As soon as nature’s child, the tiniest of toddlers, spots me, there emerges a speck of smile on his lips. Sarcasm and mockery writ large all over his distorting and contorting face. The naughty child becomes naughtier the moment he sees me. With his natural mischievousness, augmented manifold, he scrambles toward me. A fresh tide of hope washes over the young-man’s mind as soon as he notices me. Oblivious to the whole of creation, forgetful of every care, he dives into the waves of the snickers and shrieks of my manic condition. The middle aged man begins to foster and ripen contempt and repugnance as soon he recognizes me. He finds a fresh fillip to bring grave charges of fraud, deceit, posturing and swindling against me. For one final time the old man’s begrudging jealousy is inflamed as soon as he spies me. As he gets a sense of my fearlessness, my broad heart, unperturbed by the thoughts of death, he begins to bark and bluster, following the adage. My ways are all against the tide of worldly laws. Therefore, I am useless, insane. I am doing fine being mad. I do not chase worldly distractions. Do not think you can distract me with those gestures of your body or eyebrow. I despise such cleverness. So, they try to ignore and shove me away. With inflamed nostrils, muttering all kinds of known and unknown swear-words they crown me with appellations. Ways to brush me by the wayside. No harm in that. My heart says: Yours and mine, our friendship dawned Infamy was the award Let people spread buzz and slander You and I did our job তেরি মেরি দোস্তি লাগল লোক সব বদনামী কিয়া। লোক সব্কো বকনে দিজে তোমনে হামনে কাম কিয়া ॥ Than-didi says, if you are able to be blessed with your husband’s love, it does not matter whether you receive other kinds of love. But I do not get familial love. Let them ignore. I have spoken to my soul. O my soul—it is very difficult to be good to people. Do not expect the love of ordinary people. Try and turn bad and base as much as possible. You will be freed from all responsibility of being human. Since the zamindar does not accept tenancy tax from fallow land, you will be free. Is it because I follow