Keystone of life

In one of my rare contemplative moments, a rather innocuous question flashed across my mind. What is that universal emotion that is the keystone of existence? Unknowingly, I spent several of my waking moments in the following weeks brooding on that single question. The more I thought about it, the more the answer eluded me.

It was on a lazy summer afternoon, after a sumptuous meal, I was gazing meaninglessly at the street below my apartment from the balcony, that I had thought that my persistent thought had borne result and I was about to conclude that the basis of all life, man included, was love, when an interesting scene enacted right in front of a barber shop across the street caught my attention. It was a dog. The street mongrel was snarling at something, which looked like a cat, terrifying it out of its wits. At that precise moment, a boy threw a stone at it, which caught the canine predator unawares and as the missile struck its soft belly, it let out howl and ran for cover. Then all of a sudden a huge man walked out of the shop and caught the boy by his ear and slapped him. Suddenly the victorious boy seemed to me to be very vulnerable as he cried inconsolably and loud. Perhaps on hearing his helpless heart rending cries, his mother came out of their house, heaping abuse at the barber for having hurt her innocent child. The barber had obviously not anticipated this turn of events, was shocked and was profusely apologetic. The gallant mother picked up her desolate son, kissed and hugged him, as she retraced her steps to her home. Pre-occupied as she was with her wronged son, she unknowingly stepped on the cat, which let out a loud cry just to let the world know of its existence. In the process the cat startled her tormentor, who blindly ran a few paces and then slowly turned to comprehend what-on-earth had scared her out of her life.

I was observing all these little ‘accidents’ with nonchalance, a trait which I deliberately cultivated to suit my image as a budding author. I would use this episode in one of my works, I told myself, as I returned to the book I was holding in my hand. No sooner did I open it, a large brown cockroach jumped out of it, taking me by surprise. In a sense of revulsion, I threw the book down and almost jumped out of the chair. The cockroach, perhaps a yet-to-be pregnant female, decided that it was safer to be away from me and flew away to rest on the shoulders of my little nephew, Shankar who was playing nearby. He, who was still learning the tricks of human living, by instinct and by observation, promptly put it in his mouth. Realizing that this "date-fruit” tasted badly, he spat it out and with a sense of trepidation cried out for his mother. He had committed a grave error and instinctively knew that he would be chastised for his indolence.

I was a little unprepared for the sudden personal turn that the little chain of ‘accidents’ was taking. My mother who was till then blissfully enjoying her afternoon siesta entered the balcony. I was fearfully sure that the entire scene would be obviously unpleasant even to her bleary eyes- a heavy son precariously perched on the hand rest of a small chair, a crying grandson and a semi-chewed cockroach.

Even as my mind raced to find excuses to extricate myself from any accusation of dereliction of duty in minding my otherwise silent and self-assured nephew, I sensed a mysterious voice ring in my mind-“Son, the keystone of life is not love, it is fear.”

----Neelakantan Parameswaran

18^th May 2006, Chennai