George Michael passed away last week. It’s said he had been fighting depression for a long time. But so was Leonard Cohen and Robbie Williams and so many others before them.Have you ever wondered why most artists, writers, painters, philosopher’s even scientists suffer from mental illness ?
Is intelligence then a curse or a gift? A rare gift that challenges one to go find the true nature of reality, to dive deep down in the waters of human excellence and discover the treasure that lies in the darkness of the ocean floor.
And are the ones who receive this gift the chosen ones ? Are they the ones who carry the burden of moving the human thought, the human civilization forward but just like the wick of the lamp burn in the process of giving light to others.
But what if there is no truth to be known? What if the nature is hiding no great secrets from us ? What if Charvak and the existentialists are right. Eat, drink and be merry. Enjoy the party till it lasts.
The problem is not that intelligent people or let me say supremely intelligent people don’t want to be happy. The problem is that beyond a point they can’t enjoy the “normal”stuff. They can’t find any fun in the same activities as others around them. They have no option but to look else where. And for sometime they do find happiness reveling within themselves – thinking, writing, painting, singing until they reach a dead end. What to do now their mind asks them?And there are no answers.
हैरान हूँ इस बात पे, तुम कौन हो , क्या हो?
हाथ आओ तो बुत, हाथ ना आओ तो खुदा हो
अक़्ल में जो घिर गया, ला-इंतिहा क्यूँ कर हुआ?
जो समझ में आ गया फिर वो खुदा क्यूँ कर हुआ?
फलसफ़ी को बहस क अंदर खुदा मिलता नही,
डोर को सुलझा रहा है और सिरा मिलता नही
हो भी नहीं और हर जा हो,
तुम एक गोरखधंधा हो
[बुत = idol; अक़्ल = mind/Thought; ला-इंतिहा = boundless; फलसफ़ी = philosopher; बहस=debate]
The mind has a limited capacity and it kind of exhausts itself. There is still so much to know but the barrier is just too high. The intellect pushes itself but it can’t cross the threshold. It doesn’t give up and pushes some more. This is the point where sadness seeps in – a deep sense of melancholy, of loss, of being chained to the limits of existence. Like a bad acid trip the mind starts playing tricks. It does not want to accept defeat, to come down from a high pedestal and accept that it is ordinary like everyone else. It has come too far and there is no way to go back…there is no way at all.