The Fighter's Spirit

(There are some very fundamental mis-conceptions of the public about the Martial Arts. Being a proud martial artist myself, I always dreamt about writing something that creates a stir and clears all the fog about this wonderful form of art. I've finally took up the effort to put it into words briefly and I hope this doesn't go in vain...)

Shakespeare said that Life is a stage where we play different characters tactfully. But more than that, I believe that life is an arena, a battle-field where we fight out each other’s existence, struggle to survive in this hostile place.

This is not only a war with each other individuals, this battle is not at all that simple… this war is against none other, but Ourselves! Yes, here we learn to fight out our intentions, we learn to control our desires, we learn to conquer the evil inside us. But, what is the target? To win in all of these battles, of course. But, the question is ‘Why?’ … Why should we fight with our natural instincts and desires that are rooted so deep inside us? The answer is: That is what makes us human. If we let ourselves go in any way that it wants to, literally, there wouldn’t be any difference between us and the barbaric wild animals. And, using our intuition we know very well, that it wont be a suitable environment to live in.

Yes, at the end of the day we are still animals, but we have a special power that they actually lack… the power to Think, the power to Analyse, the power to Dream, the power to Hope, the power of intuition, … that is, the powers of the inner Spirit!

Here I’m not talking about ‘Divinity’. I am here to show you the magnanimity of the power of the Spirit inside all of us. The mainframe of our system, which gives instructions out to our body and mind, is controlled by none other than the Will power. Infact, actually there is nothing we do that we wish not to! Anything and everything we do or think is empowered and governed by this Will.

We realise it or not, there is a fighter in each and everyone of us. Yes, I am talking to YOU … there’s a fighter in YOU too! Though it remains very dominant and passive, it is very aggressive and ferocious; it finds every other opportunity to escape the four-walls of the dungeons of cowardice and come out through our actions.

Martial Arts is publicly thought to be a sport or atleast a co-curricular activity that helps you to be physically strong and defend yourself from oppressers effectively. Apart from these, martial artists are thought to be ‘cool’ and ‘dangerous’. But now, I will tell you about the original philosophy, the actual meaning and goal behind the practice of the Martial Arts.

The origin of the martial arts, specifically the arts of Kungfu and Karate, was surprisingly from the most peace-loving communities of the human society, the Buddhist Monks. These people, who generally spend their whole day meditating, got biologically affected for remaining physically inactive for a time time. Hence several diseases and physical problems and sometimes sleep used to creep-in in the hours of self-realisation. Apart from that, there were many communities who loved to annoy these peaceful people. Hence, as a method of self-defence and also as an exercise, originated the martial arts.

The object of martial arts is not fighting, on the contrary it is used to stop fighting. I remember, when I was a kid, I was very turbulent, impatient and sometimes very aggressive and violent. But now, after 8 years of extensive training in the martial arts, I can redirect all of my negative energy for a positive cause. I am now one of the most non-violent, peaceful , soft-spoken and patient people of my group. Martial arts has taught me to live with my back straight and at the same time lower my head to my superiors. Ego, anger, impatience have got a back-seat while my confidence and mental stability have got an enormous boost. Concentration, focus, ability of resistance against all odds, the spirit of taking on any challenge, the cool mind to handle any presure… these are all the ‘side-effects’ of this pure form of art. This not only guides to be a better person, but makes you one and brings fundamental positive changes to your character and even the way you think.

Thus the point is not to struggle, but being such that you suit perfectly in the system, without even noticing it yourself. And, this arts prepares the back-stage for this performance only. The main object is not to rectify others, but to rectify yourself… realise who you are, what your true abilities are, to be a a good human being yourself.

Corruptions exist, as it always will. Thus we know about scarred people who forgot the original purpose of this lesson of life-time. Instead they think of it as a ‘course’ and boast of ‘completeing’ it. Let me tell you something, most of us think that a black-belt is the final step of mastering a style of martial arts… but here goes the truth: in Japanese black belt is called Shodan, where ‘sho’ means ‘the first step’. Thus where we think that it has ended, actually that is the beginning! And let me tell you, martial arts is never a course, it has no end. Like you cant stop building your character, like you cannot become ‘The Master’ in music or literature, there is also to stopping in martial arts. It becomes an intricate part of your life, infact it become Life itself for you when you are seriously involved. And, I’m telling this all from a first-person’s view!

But there are still some people who love to show off, they tread in the shallow depths of the ‘glamour’ and ‘cool factor’ of this art, and hence at the end of the day wear it just like an ornament, as a sport. But the ones, who embrace it to their soul, realise that it isn’t just a physical activity, but it is a Way of Life. The way to be peaceful in life, to be a person with honour, dignity and lastly security. The ornament, the glamour the individual ability, the flexibility … all wears off with old age, as it must. But the character remains. That is the target of martial arts… to gain permanence, to get incorporated into the character itself, which never wears off till Death does it apart, maybe!

Thus, according to me, a true martial artist may not be a champion in a number of national and international tournaments, but he is a champion of himself. For, he has learnt to conquer his senses, control his desires, divert his subtlest energies for a greater, nobler cause. He always wins, not little ‘skirmishes’ on a ‘builit-up arena’, but greater battles that really matter, and he also wins the heart of all the people around with his good nature, with his Love. Yes, don’t be so surprised, martial arts teaches us to love.

It takes us on a tour through the maximum hardships, treads in the boundaries of our capabilities and extend them to let us realise the unnoticed whole new passive world of extraordinary capabilities in us and ultimately reaches the Divine Soul that is within all of us and governing all our activities.

It nurtures the fighters in us and makes them Emperors, reigning upon an empire, that is Within!

The champions hold their head high in the air and say :

“Come ye trials and challenges; come life’s big waves, for I am ready…”

(Grandmaster Mas Oyama)

Thus is the meaning of Martial Arts.

All the world's a stage

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

--- Shakespeare

Independence

Independence. Surprisingly, the word in itself carries a strange paradox. Independence is a positive concept and a very powerful one. Yet the word is grammatically negative and it has its meaning only by negating ‘dependence’ ! That means it is utterly dependent itself !

Here lies the catch. As a general rule of Nature, dependence is more fundamental than it’s opposite. That explains its prevalence and dominance over the other. We are all born and created to be dependent. We ‘fight’ for freedom. But we depend for our own ease and comfort. No preparation is required if we want to take help from somebody, but analogically to make ourselves self-sufficient and complete (though I believe no-one can be entirely complete in himself) it requires a lot of planning and hard work.

We don’t realize that we’re dependent until and unless something hits bluntly in our face and rudely refuses to comply with our wishes. For example, people go to work to earn a living. But they have personal hobbies and passions too. Who the heck wants to go to work everyday? If given the choice and the proper resources I’d rather roam about the whole world, make friends with different kinds of people… or maybe read books on the windy beaches of a sea-side and spend the nights hearing the sounds of insects and staring at the moon… instead of going to college and reading about stuff that has no connection to our daily lives by any means.

But here also, comes Habit. Habit is a characteristic of all living beings that makes them dependent unknowingly on itself. In fact, habit is the most responsible factor that makes us go in a straight, pre-determined, methodical and ordered line. As it has become our habit to earn for a living and be occupied with something, that after maybe a couple to months of vacation we want to get back to where we were, no matter how monotonous and painful it was. We would forget all about freedom and voluntarily want to be in the cage again!

But again, as all students of physics might know (Second Law of Thermodynamics), to nature Chaos is more fundamental than order.

Hence, as we see, this is one of the greatest examples of how the nature maintains its balance with the help of the opposites. On one hand it wants to be chaotic, but at the same time it remains ordered by becoming dependent on its instincts and also on the surrounding influences. Yin & Yang !

Just as light has no meaning without darkness, just as a woman finds her completeness in the company of a man, just as a vacation finds its meaning after a long period of pre-occupation and hard work; similarly independence is here only because there was dependence once upon a time. The phase of dependence is equally significant. Not only it has helped us to thrive but it has pointed out what could have been better, where the holes in the cloth are, where we actually stand.

I do not see independence just as freedom from a habit or a superior power, but I see it as a realization, a motivation, a cause that brings integrity among the diversified elements. But at the same time I also do not look down upon the earlier phase of dependence. It is the cause that brings the awareness, it is the foundation where the structure stands, it has taught us to dream. It is the other half of nature’s Divine Cycle.

Let us not be ashamed that we were dependent once, but let us be grateful that it gave us enough reasons to not to be.

The Vision

When walking past those places-
where once dwelled :
a dream, a hope
a vision of a new meaning of life,
where once we held
our trembling hands and our hearts...
I do not let my tears go,
instead there comes a fire
which surges within...
it vaporises every drop of tear,
and creates a mocking image
out of the flame,
that laughs at my foolishness
and makes faces to me;
faces... familiar once
but now distorted, corrugated, ugly
or even lost in the fogs of oblivion.


yet something happens
at the back of my head
at the bottom of my heart
which makes everything seem
so dull, so empty, so meaningless
the colors hidden by the black of the canvas
tries to peep out,
to creep into my dreams
and make them nightmares
of disgust, of writhing pain.

and again
at the next moment
the blemished canvas gets burnt
by The Fire
and instead of scorching it,
it erases it...
it makes the way for a new beginning.

but, what is the use of beginning at all?
if it is all destined to end?
why make trouble to build a sand-castle
in the banks of the atlantic ocean
of desires, pain, expectations and ego?

but we have only one thing
that defies logic, defies rationality,
yet, gives strength and urges to move on...
it is Hope.

hope is the only dead-end
of the side-lanes of life,
called Failures.
some people tend to stay
in those suffocating dark and tempting lanes
and lose sight of the main road: Life;
which goes on and on and on...

if there haven't been the high walls of hope,
maybe some people wud've tried to jump over it
but instead making an premature exit from the Journey.

it is hope that makes us get back
to stroll on
and maybe this's the best way
to live life.



i wanted to live
to smell the roses
to cross the barriers
and extend the boundaries...
i did not care for the customs, the conventions;
i wud've crushed everything in my way;
but,
the only thing i needed was
A shoulder--
or maybe a warm hand to grasp
my cold trembling limbs in the blizzard...
or maybe a bosom to rest
my tired, fractured and bleeding body.

instead,
i was betrayed... used,
i was exploited... ravaged;
and helplessly, unnoticingly
left on the side-lane to perish.

i did get up
to face the sunlight again
to stitch my faults and with a new vision :

we are always alone,
the friendships, the relationships
the excitement of an outing with the sweetheart;
a lovely evening with friends,
are all futile, unreal and volatile.
everything is so fragile in the cyclone of time
that its useless to waste your energy, emotions
and yes, money
on these temporary bursts of hormones.

time spares no one,
not even the blemishless one.
all fall prey to the Time's hunger...
no matter how hard you try to be safe--
to carry a clean dress amidst the pouring rain,
all of a sudden a car rushing from the otherside
will spray you with mud and dirt.

dont take life too seriously.
let it flow like a river;
and you can float on it like a dry leaf...
unattached, and yet going with the flow.
who knows what will happen tomorrow,
so live for the present,
live life kingsize,
without any repentance
without any commitment
without the pain in the ass
commonly cliched as 'Love'.

The Murder of Love

The birds are returning to their nests --

The sky is still holding back

Desparately to the last rays

Of the reluctant, setting sun.

The woods has been gripped

By the misty darkness of the creeping dusk.

A sudden shiver makes the presence felt

Of a breeze which blows silently,

Worn by the blues of the parting day.

Her hands clasped into mine,

Intently I am drinking of her eyes,

Searching for her,

Wondering where she is –

Where I shall find

The source of eternal happiness

That is hidden in her.

Like the infinite secrets of the universe

Trembling in the distant stars of the clear sky,

I can feel the existence

Of the secret of her soul

That is behind the dark depths

Of her illusory beautiful eyes.

Gazing into them,

My self is immersed, lost

Into the fathomless ocean of her being…

Where is She?

Within her lustrous eyes?

Behind her dazzling yet shy smiles?

Or in the sweet stream of her words…

Or maybe beneath the benign peace

That pervades her innocent face.

Alas, my hopes too high!

How rash the desire

To possess her soul,

To consume her totality

In the cramped corners

Of my crowded, clouded brain…

‘Tis like picking up

A beautiful flower on the roadside,

And ensuring the end of its life.

Content I should be with what I get :

A smile, a word –

A glance, a hint of love.

No one belongs to us.

Human beings are not for food

For humane hunger, earthly desires !

They are not ornaments to wear,

To show off !

They are lotuses that bloom

For the world and its Lord—

Assiduously and secretly.

Through days and night,

Through joy and sorrow

Prosperity and Adversity

Through Life and Death

And countless cycles of seasons

They Bloom…

To be enjoyed for their scent,

And beauty and sweetness,

Or even its mere existence !

But they are not to be cut

With the knife of desires,

And expectations.

We are all here to love,

And be strong in love,

But not possess our beloved,

Not to engulf her.

Let us appreciate her presence

Enjoy every bit of it,

Without making her suffer her

For the cause of our pleasure.

‘Tis long we’ve fallen in love.

Now let us

Rise.

Let the sacred rays of love

Drench us

Not in the mire of desires,

But in the fountain of hope, of humility,

Of Life.

-----------------

Acknowledgement : Rabindranath Tagore.

(this post maybe deleted in future for re-editting and other modifications)