"Although Siddhartha fled from the Self a thousand times, the return was inevitable.."
- Hermann Hesse, Nobel Laureate in 'Siddartha'
Today, I am missing my friend Siddhartha. A lot.
Siddartha is the name of some of my closest friends in Delhi, my buddies through life and Pink Floyd songs and driven dreams of Ivy Leagues and Latin America and spiritual trips in Nepal. And my current screen favorite in India, Siddartha Malhotra; who epitomizes that cool vibe for me. The hip Delhi streets, with Dylan t-shirts, blazing ambition and self-belief. I can't believe that drive is still fueling me. That desire to achieve greatness. Be it a Nobel or Pulitzer or a tenure at an Ivy League. Even a contract with an international music company or an Investment banking firm with fair motives.
Siddartha is a Pali word that means "One who is meaning, in himself."
But on a different note.. Siddartha is my favorite book by Hermann Hesse. His hero for me. The one who went on a quest and found himself.
This was the only book that ever resonated with me. Though I looked at others through the years..I almost bought into a lot of the authoritarianism, but..
None. I saw none of the authoritarian texts that made sense to me, as much as this one little book written by a bespectacled German in the 1930s. I respect all 'systems', but Siddhartha stayed with me.
It started my first love story. It ended my second one.
I remember reading it in one go, when I was 16.
The best part about it was the 'not following' anyone.
I loved that Siddhartha refused to join the Buddha’s order. Become part of any organized institution.
Weird, when I feel into the same ‘maya/illusion’, but I kept a part of me intact.
My first love, who read Siddhartha with me in one go and how we called each other 'Siddhartha'. We said we would never give in. We would seek and find. And how we almost forgot.. and fell..but are awakening.
My second love is still seeking. It’s brutal, but he will find the way.
Siddartha is the power and force of believing in yourself.
Siddartha is me at 23, walking through Paris on my own, discovering the revolution beaneath the Place de la Bastille.
To get lost in an insane 'religious' conflict, almost die and yet escape unscathed. To heal yourself..
To keep it intact through the innumerable 'Aunties' and institutions and 'get married' and labels. And standing up to patriarchy and identity. Little did I know when I read Siddhartha, how much 'he' would be tested. Being a girl in a South Asian culture made me a ready candidate for the test. A girl who only believed in love and not labels. Who thought an 'registered' marriage would be the only way she would 'institutionalize' her true love, felt guilty about not having big desi wedding. Who me? It's not fancy.
Being a hardworking graduate student in an MS Engineering program, living with your loved one, without seeking approval of people..despite the close-knit community of your 'home' culture. I dont't even think it is such a big deal for two adult human beings in grad school.but don't know how slowly I fell into the same trap of cultural pressure. And being 'dumped' for not being the right 'religion' after giving 9 years of your life to someone..it's not fancy. At least I realize it now. I put words to it. Broken, scared but still writing.
Me, for whom love was the smoky cold breath in the snow. Walking hand in hand in long coats..it still is. How did it happen? And now it is coming back.. all that. The snow. The winter. The hand in hand. I can see it coming :) And am so excited..no more pressures.. just being me and Being with my Siddartha.
And it’s strange how Love, connects you to things. For me love has been a connection of quests. I have never loved anybody who didn’t have that.
Sometimes with love, you don’t have to do anything, but awaken each other. Bring out the soul within each other, like a beautiful melody from a lute. Both times, in my life, love has brought those precious blessings. Not ownership, but belonging.
Siddartha is someone I miss a lot..a crazy, seeking soul-mate, who is still searching, But doesnt find the peace beneath the bourgoise veneer of Prada bags and Gucci shoes.
Siddartha is that Ivy League vibe I love.. walking through the snow with a long black coat and a cool love next to me, throwing snowflakes at each other. And reading poetry from Lorca, as we go out to conquer our lab.
Siddartha is me.
And sometimes he is caught..and sometimes he is free. But continues on his quest. To break free of the shackles, that aren't really there.
And there is another Siddartha.. a flesh and blood one.. who is looking for me and I am looking for him. He wear a coat with a muffler and drinks a croissant with a black coffee, looking back at his ex-girlfriends and walks on, with me.
After all, isnt love about awakening the Siddartha in each other?
- Hermann Hesse, Nobel Laureate in 'Siddartha'
Today, I am missing my friend Siddhartha. A lot.
Siddartha is the name of some of my closest friends in Delhi, my buddies through life and Pink Floyd songs and driven dreams of Ivy Leagues and Latin America and spiritual trips in Nepal. And my current screen favorite in India, Siddartha Malhotra; who epitomizes that cool vibe for me. The hip Delhi streets, with Dylan t-shirts, blazing ambition and self-belief. I can't believe that drive is still fueling me. That desire to achieve greatness. Be it a Nobel or Pulitzer or a tenure at an Ivy League. Even a contract with an international music company or an Investment banking firm with fair motives.
Siddartha is a Pali word that means "One who is meaning, in himself."
But on a different note.. Siddartha is my favorite book by Hermann Hesse. His hero for me. The one who went on a quest and found himself.
This was the only book that ever resonated with me. Though I looked at others through the years..I almost bought into a lot of the authoritarianism, but..
None. I saw none of the authoritarian texts that made sense to me, as much as this one little book written by a bespectacled German in the 1930s. I respect all 'systems', but Siddhartha stayed with me.
It started my first love story. It ended my second one.
I remember reading it in one go, when I was 16.
The best part about it was the 'not following' anyone.
I loved that Siddhartha refused to join the Buddha’s order. Become part of any organized institution.
Weird, when I feel into the same ‘maya/illusion’, but I kept a part of me intact.
My first love, who read Siddhartha with me in one go and how we called each other 'Siddhartha'. We said we would never give in. We would seek and find. And how we almost forgot.. and fell..but are awakening.
My second love is still seeking. It’s brutal, but he will find the way.
Siddartha is the power and force of believing in yourself.
Siddartha is me at 23, walking through Paris on my own, discovering the revolution beaneath the Place de la Bastille.
To get lost in an insane 'religious' conflict, almost die and yet escape unscathed. To heal yourself..
To keep it intact through the innumerable 'Aunties' and institutions and 'get married' and labels. And standing up to patriarchy and identity. Little did I know when I read Siddhartha, how much 'he' would be tested. Being a girl in a South Asian culture made me a ready candidate for the test. A girl who only believed in love and not labels. Who thought an 'registered' marriage would be the only way she would 'institutionalize' her true love, felt guilty about not having big desi wedding. Who me? It's not fancy.
Being a hardworking graduate student in an MS Engineering program, living with your loved one, without seeking approval of people..despite the close-knit community of your 'home' culture. I dont't even think it is such a big deal for two adult human beings in grad school.but don't know how slowly I fell into the same trap of cultural pressure. And being 'dumped' for not being the right 'religion' after giving 9 years of your life to someone..it's not fancy. At least I realize it now. I put words to it. Broken, scared but still writing.
Me, for whom love was the smoky cold breath in the snow. Walking hand in hand in long coats..it still is. How did it happen? And now it is coming back.. all that. The snow. The winter. The hand in hand. I can see it coming :) And am so excited..no more pressures.. just being me and Being with my Siddartha.
And it’s strange how Love, connects you to things. For me love has been a connection of quests. I have never loved anybody who didn’t have that.
Sometimes with love, you don’t have to do anything, but awaken each other. Bring out the soul within each other, like a beautiful melody from a lute. Both times, in my life, love has brought those precious blessings. Not ownership, but belonging.
Siddartha is someone I miss a lot..a crazy, seeking soul-mate, who is still searching, But doesnt find the peace beneath the bourgoise veneer of Prada bags and Gucci shoes.
Siddartha is that Ivy League vibe I love.. walking through the snow with a long black coat and a cool love next to me, throwing snowflakes at each other. And reading poetry from Lorca, as we go out to conquer our lab.
Siddartha is me.
And sometimes he is caught..and sometimes he is free. But continues on his quest. To break free of the shackles, that aren't really there.
And there is another Siddartha.. a flesh and blood one.. who is looking for me and I am looking for him. He wear a coat with a muffler and drinks a croissant with a black coffee, looking back at his ex-girlfriends and walks on, with me.
After all, isnt love about awakening the Siddartha in each other?
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