Emotions: Meditations on Life (1/n)

I move through life without very many emotions. Maybe I had them, maybe I didn't. And honestly, I am perfectly content with the amount of emotions I have and feel. When I’m happy, I don’t let it last too long. It’s not because someone once told me that happiness is bad or that joy is something to be wary of. No, nothing so philosophical. I just don’t like being too happy. To me, happiness feels synonymous with celebration. And why celebrate when there’s still so much left to achieve?

But if someone were to ask me outright, “Are you happy?”, I’d still say yes. Because I am.

For me, happiness is contentment. I’m very content with the way I am, and I don’t feel the need to stretch that into something grander. Why chase after more emotions? The more emotions you let yourself feel, the more hassle you invite. I've started seeing emotions almost like a luxury, maybe even a privilege, best afforded to people who have the time to entertain them. People who have time to spend dissecting a “problem.”

Yes, I’ve started thinking of emotions as problems. Little traps you can fall into without realising. And like most humans, I learn primarily through experience. It’s through those experiences I’ve come to believe: the more you indulge your emotions, the more time you waste dwelling on them. Naturally, the fewer emotions you entertain, the less time you spend dwelling.

Of course, you might not agree. Maybe you think “dwelling” on emotions means consciously sitting down, reflecting, tracing them back to their roots, meditating on their presence. And yes, if you’re the type to analyse every feeling like a puzzle, you do end up losing quite a bit of time in that loop.

But let’s say you’re not that way. Let’s say you dwell by simply feeling it out... letting the emotion pass through you, giving it its due time, before moving on. Even then, I’d argue: time spent is time spent.

Now, I admit, I’m a bit of a hypocrite here. I might say all of this, but when life throws me into a situation, you might just see a different side of me. Still, I'd like to think I “get over” emotions quicker than most. Or at least, quicker than the people around me. Maybe, for me, it’s not about feeling less. Maybe it’s about learning how to close the door behind a feeling once it’s done visiting.

I feel there’s no grandiose in being happy or sad. No necessity to elaborate or parade your emotions. You’re human, you will feel. You’re not a machine, after all, so why act as if merely having emotions is an extraordinary achievement worth constant announcement? To me, emotions should be felt and not randomly vocalised, or what I actually mean to say is that they should not be excessively dissected as many people have started doing.

Because the moment you try to put something as abstract as an emotion into words, you either inflate it or diminish it. You never quite match its original form.

An emotion is like zero. Neutral, whole, self-sufficient. The second you try to speak about it, whether positively or negatively, you shift its value. You add something to it, or you subtract from it. Why not just leave it at zero? Let it be. Let it wash over you, flow through you, and move past you.

Well, I had warned you in the beginning. I am a sort of a hypocrite. See, how the person who was talking about not showing a lot of emotions is asking you to let emotions flow through you? Dekh rahe ho Binod?

That’s the only way I’ve found to truly connect with my emotions... it is by letting them exist without giving them the reins. I watch people around me either suppress their emotions until they burst, or become so entangled in them that they lose clarity. I don’t want either.

I say,

Feel it, but don’t feed it.

I think this philosophy has got a lot to do with my profession and the art that I hold so close to my heart. Indian classical music. It doesn’t let you dwell too much on the good or the bad. As an artiste, it teaches you to stay rooted in reality, grounded in facts, not in others' opinions or the highs and lows that come and go.

Now, take mistakes, for instance. When you falter on stage, when a taan slips, or the laya wobbles, you can’t afford to sit and stew over it mid-performance. Why? Because one mistake brooded upon births another, and soon enough, you’ve ruined the entire performance. Then what is important you ask?

What is important is knowing why the mistake happened.

You don’t carry the mistake, but you carry the lesson.

You pay attention to the root of it: the misstep, so that it doesn’t follow you again.

The same applies when something beautiful emerges. Maybe you improvise, maybe something spontaneous blooms on stage. You don’t cling to that exact moment, trying to bottle it or replicate it note-for-note. What matters is not memorising the accident, but understanding the flow that led you there. The state of mind, the surrender, the hours of riyaz behind it.

The performance, much like life, moves forward. The point isn’t to trap each moment, but to learn what nourishes the good and avoid what feeds the bad.

Feel. Don't dwell.

Notice. Don't cling.

Learn. Don't rote.

Now, with Love, I have the same theory. It is better to quote a small snippet from the Nāṭyaśāstra by Bharata Muni which agrees with my logic:

उन्मादनात्समुद्भूतः कामो रतिकरो भवेत् । स्वभावोपगतो यस्तु नासावत्यर्थभाविकः ॥४:३२६॥

-नाट्यशास्त्र

Transliteration: unmādanātsamudbhūtaḥ kāmo ratikaro bhavet, svabhāvopagato yastu nāsāvatyarthabhāvikaḥ [NS: 4:326]

Meaning: Love growing out infatuation will be pleasing, and that [love] which is natural will not cause such abundant feelings.

Ok, so, you read my blog, and get no music recommendations (that most of you won't even listen to because most people won't understand it)?

Now, listen to one of the most fearless artistes that I have had to the pleasure of listening to: Ustad Vilayat Khan sahab. Here's a link to his Shyam Kalyan which is one of my absolute favourite raagas to listen to and play and sing and dance to. People close to me (who know about Hindustani) would know. One of the most underrated Shyam Kalyans ever. Vilayat Khan sahab, according to me, is at his peak artistic transparency: letting music flow through him, unhindered by anything (just like I was telling about how one should let emotions flow through them).