(My personal factual background information taken from WATER, autobiographical graphic-novel story)
Rejecting any form of violence
Even now, I feel a kind of boredom and mental nausea when I simply hear or see the killing of people, animals, or the destruction of nature. When I was a child, I only played with a catapult once. I managed to hurt a bird, but immediately, for the first time, I felt what I described above. After that experience, I even avoided hanging out with friends who played with catapults and similar things. I still remember how that bird struggled in my little hands to free itself. I felt alienated from within and could not follow the habits and traditions that others followed so naturally.
I chose study, library and playground
Instead, I chose studying and collecting books, magazines, and newspapers thinking of a personal library. My favourite place was, and still is, the library (Now, I have my own physical and digital libraries in two countries). I also enjoyed team games, playground and swimming in lakes and in streams. At that time, I was the leader of about forty other kids of my age.
One day, when I was almost 12 years old, I saw some newly arrived books at the library I frequented in a small city-town in the northwest of Sri Lanka. I found all the books by Arthur Conan Doyle. The first work I chose was The Hound of the Baskervilles (1902). It was this work that sparked, for the first time, my potential for logical thinking as a researcher, observer and investigator of knowledge without falling into superstitions. Thus, Sherlock Holmes became one of the dominant figures shaping my cultural and civil character as a teenager.
In addition, as an adolescent, my mental and logical processes were irreversibly influenced and enriched by Bertrand Russell, Wittgenstein, Immanuel Kant, J. Krishnamurti, Alan Watts and by the Buddhist literature – specifically by the Milindapañha. I have to remind also “Bhagawath Geetha” which I encountered in Italy and helped a lot to understand what I was searching: behaviour of dark matter. No one has succeeded in changing and diminishing the self-directed education I acquired through research, observation, experimentation, reading, and direct experience from my childhood. I became wholly pragmatic and empirical who reason relative facts with cold precision, yet one can read between these lines how I am also sensitive in a certain way.
Who pushed me to choose a dog?
However, I am certain that it was The Hound of the Baskervilles that inspired me to train a dog named Jimmy. Although I still believe animals should live freely in their own world without too much human involvement, at least with me, I have not always felt this way. You can read this reflection on a dog and two she-cats (queens) to see how I became emotionally involved with their lives and relaxed in the presence of their affection. But this is not all.
The story of three animals in my life
After “The Hound of the Baskervilles”- Jimmy
The puppy dog Jimmy, with whom I had quite a close connection, I can feel it even today. I had him in Sri Lanka when I was an adolescent. From the first day, he formed a strong bond with me. It filled the space of my other self. As I look back today, in some ways, Jimmy represented my projected self: authentic, respectful, but not obedient. He was also independent and playful. But one night, Jimmy was attacked by a dog that had rabies, and after a few days, my father had to put him down. That day, I decided never to have a pet for myself again.
How I met Queen Isha
Then came Isha, a totally independent and playful cat who indirectly entered my life. Strictly speaking, the cat was not mine but belonged to my friend in Rome, where I was staying. When she told me that she was going to get a cat, I suggested a dog instead. Then my friend replied ironically: “Oh, yes! I already have a dynamic and intelligent dog in the first room. Now, I only need a queen.” Then she added: “Also, I will name her Isha.” That was Isha’s arrival.
Though I don’t particularly like cats (I prefer dogs) or animals in general around me, they come into my life like this. I saw how fast Isha grew up. The ironic thing was that she formed a strong bond with me from a very young age. I used to wake up early in the morning to go to university or to the National library of Rome for research, and I always found Isha at my door, waiting to go to the kitchen and then play with me. She loved playing with the shadows of my hands. She became very skilled at jumping toward the shadow of my hand on the wall.
Well, until I left for work, my friend found it difficult to rest because two of us made enough noise to keep her awake. But she couldn’t say anything; the cat was hers.
Isha, the cat, somehow became a kind of therapy for my busy life with so many commitments. In addition, she slowly became my projected affection, too. But one day, I had to move to northern Italy, and everything ended. I did not want to hear about her anymore from my friend in Rome. However, my friend told me that Isha continued to look for me and slept on the bed where I used to sleep.
Queen Sisi
Then came Sisi, where I live now. I watched her grow up in the courtyard. Sisi was completely wild and suspicious. She hid as soon as she saw a human being. Her behaviour was similar to that of a wild cat. Maybe her mother had a relationship with such a cat around the vines and cornfields. However, over time, she lost all her siblings and even her mother.
Sisi, humanly speaking, became an orphan. She began to develop a little trust in human beings. One day, while I was on the phone in the yard, she approached me and showed me her trust. I didn’t pay attention because of the phone call. Afterwards, I noticed she was sleeping on my feet. I felt her trust and affection.
In this way, she also entered my life. We always felt good together, and she preferred to lie on my feet whenever I was on the phone. Time passed for her, too, and she grew up. Like all animals, nature began to influence her body through irresistible hormonal urges to procreate or to transform energy into new forms of cats.
She suffered greatly from her naivety under this hormonal attack. She tried to find relief from her pain by running to me and away from others. I felt unusual, annoyed and lost. That night, I saw through my window many cats in the yard running around her, making their sounds. After that, I noticed how her physical form changed. Everything seemed to calm down.
Three months ago, I took some photographs of her in the yard. Then, a month and a half ago, she disappeared. Someone told me they saw Sisi wet with some liquid; they thought it was blood. Anyway, that was the last time I heard about her. She disappeared. We don’t know what happened to her or her little ones.
She has left memories of herself, and I was able to capture her images with my cell phone when she was waiting for food. Well, I miss her. Maybe I should promise myself again not to have any affectionate relationships with animals? I don’t know. I now know for sure who I am and the world around me. So, I don’t worry about deciding or not deciding anything. I know for sure that what happens, happens without any logical interference.
Your poignant reflection on Jimmy, Isha, and Sisi unveils a tender layer of your Art of Seeing, revealing life’s fleeting connections through your WATER-like lens. These pets’ mirrors of your authentic, playful self-echo which embrace of any difference, countering the violence.
ReplyDeleteJimmy’s independence, Isha’s therapeutic presence, and Sisi’s trust reflect how you, listening to life’s pulse despite loss, unlike Nietzsche’s solitary will. Your acceptance “what happens, happens”, parallels universal flux, yet your grief tempers ordered ethics with Fanon’s trauma awareness.
Sisi’s orphanhood and disappearance resonate with your violence notes’ “zombie” memories, where pain persists without resolution.
Your determination to not to decide mirrors Complementary Humanism’s non-interventionist play yet invites reflection on violence’s inevitability. A hint at how pets shaped your philosophy could deepen impact.
An open question and request from reader to reader -
How do such losses inform your view of human-animal harmony? Would you like to share your ideas joining this Art of Seeing journey to explore the freedom?
Dear Paul,
DeleteYour thoughtful reflection deeply moved me. Thank you for seeing the heart behind these stories. Jimmy, Isha, and Sisi taught me that love and loss are intertwined threads in life’s tapestry. Their fleeting and constant transforming presence mirrored the transitoriness of all connections (human perception), yet their imprint feels ceaseless. You’re right: their lives or I would say, the transforming rhythms, sustained my philosophy; how grief softens rigidity, how trust defies violence. Human-animal harmony, to me, is a dance of mutual transformation; their deaths underscored both movement (panta rhei) and resilience. I’d love to explore this further with you - your perspective enriches the journey.
Warmly,
A. Rohan
Grazie A. Rohan. Ho perso il mio cane [mia moglie dice che era il suo] in novembre 2024 dopo 17 anni di simbiosi. Mattino e sera andavamo a spasso insieme ogni giorno. Adesso provo ancora un senso di libertà ma nel contempo non so come elaborare il mio lutto. Un altro pet?
ReplyDeleteCiao...
DeleteStavo scrivendo la seconda parte dell'articolo sulla "Violenza Umana". Per quanto riguarda la riflessione su "3 pets: cane e due gatte", semplicemente è una condivisione non tanto sul lutto ma sul nostro essere nel mondo: cioè, nascita, crescita e morte (o io dico trasformazione completa).
Ognuno di noi dondola tra gli eventi così detti buoni o cattivi, belli o brutti ecc., e consideriamo che siamo vivi. Cerchiamo di mantenere sempre il bene e il bello, ma non riusciamo naturalmente perché la natura, incluso il nostro corpo e l'energia della mente, è totalmente indifferente alla nostra etica e morale, fatte dalle relative culture.
Invece, succede quello che succede senza una minima logica che noi eventualmente attribuiamo agli eventi, giustificandoli con retorica e ermeneutica. Dunque, quella riflessione è filosofica, tramite le esperienze vissute.
Il tuo lutto del cane dovrebbe essere trattato così, naturalmente, se riesci. Però, siamo, partendo dal grembo materno, già manipolati dalla cultura e civiltà. Tutto ciò che pensiamo, facciamo e desideriamo è già culturalmente previsto e definito. Non tutti sono in grado di individuare ciò che accade nel proprio essere. È difficile. Tanto meglio lasciar perdere se non si riesce a comprendere, perché non cambia niente.
Ma una cosa è importante da tenere presente: Il tuo tempo sei tu. Vivilo come vuoi.
Buon Tutto.
A. Rohan