The Unsalted Truth #6 — Where Non-Violence Begins

 

Where Non-Violence Begins

My walks have always been meditative mostly and the preparation for Dandi March has done something unexpected to me even before the first step is taken. It has quietly pushed me back to books especially those that speak of non-violence. Until recently, my understanding of non-violence was embarrassingly limited and narrow. But as I read more and, more importantly, as I began to observe myself I realised how shallow my definition was. For me, it meant only the absence of physical harm. No hitting. No aggression. No blood. Simple. Now I see clearly. Non-violence, begins in thought and that is where things started to get uncomfortable since I have noticed violence never tends to leave my mind. Let me explain. 

Our pet park, dirty again. Anger rises — irresponsible pet parents, who raised these people, why can’t they follow simple rules. (This is my angry mind speaking to me). The camera that could have helped us pinpoint the wrong doer, doesn’t work when we need it. Irritation. The walk takes me past the children’s park in our complex, strewn with garbage — left by children, helpers, and possibly parents. Annoyance. Judgment. A beautifully organised social event — and the next morning, a mess of epic proportions. Agitation that educated, well-meaning people don’t realise that all it takes is dropping plates and wrappers into bins placed right there. The final nail in the coffin — politics in a classmates’ group. Harsh words are exchanged  and opinions about each other sharpens. What begins as disagreement slowly turns into quiet hate.

I know you understand what I mean. None of this is physical violence. But the mind, I realised, was already swinging its fist and its violence shows up in everyday moments very easily. 

And from there, it doesn’t take much for thoughts to become actions:

A sharp tone with a dear one. A door slammed a little harder than needed. An extended mental story of “teaching someone a lesson.” And giving a misbehaving pet a whack on the rump when all that is needed was a stern No. It was well, all dramatic not criminal but undeniably — violent.

My Imagined Definition

And then, almost cruelly, life placed a mirror in front of me. A friend in our community — someone who does not even want to keep pets — quietly takes care of a group of stray cats. One morning, as I crossed him during my walk, he told me how one particular cat emerges from a specific bush every day just to greet him.

 

I watched.

The cat came out from the bushes, purred and rubbed itself against his legs. He bent down and petted its back and it stretched itself lazily. The cat had no name and my friend did not own it but the sheer presence of this act, hit me hard.  I felt something recoil inside me — not anger, but shame and recognition. It wasn’t kindness that struck me — it was the complete absence of force of any kind.

That moment had no ownership, no control, no expectation. Both had met each other without agenda. And that is when I got that 'Aha' moment. Non-violence is not merely the absence of harm. It is the absence of domination. And that non-coercive presence is the soil from which non-violence grows. 

Later, as I walked back home, my own pet came running to meet me as if I was the only thing that mattered in the world at that moment. The whack in the rump already forgotten. I had been forgiven without my even having asked. Unconditional, non-judgmental love. 

This was non-violence in action.

The Quiet Re-definition

It dawned on me that non-violence first needs to start internally. Ahimsa towards my one's inner self. Ensuring that one does not fight one’s own mind and getting upset at oneself. That is mental non-violence. Choosing observation of one's mind over suppression is ahimsa in thought.

I have been worrying about not sounding rude, when I have to say “no” to someone or answering others without justifying or attacking and even avoiding condescension in a group communication. Being careful about tone, intent, and impact, not just content. Now I see that as non-violence in communication — speaking without injuring, even subtly.

And the biggest of all, Non-violence towards my own self. Beating myself up for seeking external validation, for pressuring to justify my actions, even pushing myself by overplanning. These were all intangible violence against myself. By letting go of self-harshness, comparison, and internal prosecution, I am finding ahimsa towards myself.

Non-violence is not about avoiding confrontation or becoming passive. It is about reducing friction at its source — the mind. I don’t need to leave a group of friends just because one person holds contrarian views. I don’t need to be upset every time I see litter. I have choices. Maybe I can clean a small patch myself or I can simply not let the mess enter my bloodstream as poison.

Non-violence does not mean indifference. It means responding to life without inner damage.

Labelling Non-violence

I have just one worry about labelling something as “non-violence”, especially in the Gandhi-Dandi context. I have a feeling that the moment we label it, it tends to become moralised, politicised, debated and defended, consequently leading to violence of a different kind. However, if by actually living it in its essence, reducing friction in relationships, softening resistance to views, choosing awareness over reaction to actions or thoughts different from ours and choosing presence over argument, that would be a much deeper layer of ahimsa than the ideology it is imagined to be.

Non violence is not an end state, a destination to be arrived at. It is a process of becoming less violent with yourself and others. Just practising small acts is good enough. Gandhiji  himself wrote, “My life is my message” — not “my conclusions are my message.”  

What the Dandi March Is Already Teaching Me

I haven’t walked a single kilometre of the march yet and yet, something has already shifted. The march is not training my legs as much as it is training my threshold for irritation, for judgment, for reaction. I am beginning to see that non-violence is not just a slogan. It is the daily, quiet refusal to let the mind turn sharp in the invisible space between thought and action.

I am nowhere near mastery, but at least now, I know where the work actually starts. I have started becoming less harsh with myself. The inner peace that one gets is temporary, it was never meant to be permanent but I am positive that it will always return.