A cry for ‘chrysalism’
Harvinder Khetal
The rain is romanticised in reel life with a rich sensuous rendition. But in reality, the monsoon season is enjoyable only from indoors. The raindrops shouting down on the windowpane exude tranquil musical notes only if you are warm and dry inside the house. Anybody rushing to work or school or college, caught in the wet traffic jam, knows that very well. More so, in our metropolitan cities.
So, ever thought if there is one word that describes this feeling? It is labelled “chrysalism”. This experience could be likened to the feeling like you are back in the womb. Yes, chrysalism is the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to the pitter-patter of rain over a cup of hot cappuccino.
The rationalist will argue: “How do you know how one feels inside the mother’s womb?” That reminds me of a video trending on the Net featuring ‘mono twins’ talking to each other during the gestation period in the uterus. Their take on life after birth gives a fresh perspective to the most profound question: Is there life after death?
“Do you believe in life after delivery?” one twin asks.
“Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later,” the other replies.
“Nonsense,” says the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”
The second responds, “I don’t know, but there will be more light. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.”
The first replies, “Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”
But the second insists, “I think there is something, and maybe it’s different from what it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.”
The first replies, “Nonsense. Moreover, if there is life, then why has no one ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life. In the after-delivery, there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”
“Well, I don’t know,” says the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother, and she will take care of us.”
The first replies, “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? Where is she now?”
The second says, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of her. It is in her that we live. Without her, this world would not and could not exist.”
Says the first: “Well I don’t see her, so it is only logical that she doesn’t exist.”
But then the second twin answers, “Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you really listen, you can perceive her presence, and you can hear her loving voice, calling down from above.”
A biology student will immediately root chrysalism to chrysalis. It is the moth or butterfly pupa that is enclosed in a hardened protective case, a quiescent insect pupa. The metamorphosis is from egg to caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly.
The moot point is safety, security, protection. And that begins from the foetus. Let it bloom. The female unborn child is crying for chrysalism. It has a right to chrysalism. Female foeticide is abhorrent.
And, we need it later too. We are born into this big bad world. No, not so. Mostly, it’s a nice place. Despite the problems, few want to leave the world. Right? We just need to ensure that it is free of violence. Of any kind. Freedom from abuse, rape, terrorism, loot and plunder of natural resources. It is in our hands to ensure serene surroundings for our children.
As Khaled Hosseini says in The Kite Runner: “Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it. — Amir”
Turn down the volume knob of violence, in fact push its off button.
From the mother’s womb, we want to enter a Mother Earth that is safe, tranquil and peaceful. We want chrysalism.
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