A walk in the drizzle

2012... Apocalypse? Enlightenment? Or a super flop show?

2012-01-05T17:36:00.005+05:30

It’s unbelievable that we’re in 2012. Unbelievable, from a perspective of 3 years ago because, at that time, we were making funny moves and sounds about 2012. It looks funny now but back then, it was not so. We were religiously wedded to the idea of a super apocalypse plus a major mass enlightenment, somewhere around the end of this year. That is on 21st Dec 2012! And being just a paltry 11 months away from that grand event, the world wasn’t supposed to be like this, the way it is today.

Memories are short--both public as well as personal ones. The earlier fairy tales are forgotten because we are lulled into sleep with newer stories and fables.
Anyways...

One day, three of us were chatting our brains off on Gtalk, and as usual, it was all idealistic high funda ramble. We were discussing the possibility of a world-wide catastrophe in 2012 and what should be done at a personal level to face such situations. One of us was even planning to leave his job, sell off his plots and start preparing while living off that money, calculating that it would last him until the end of 2012. After that? Why bother, because we would be in a new consciousness where money wouldn’t be the medium of exchange and the world would’ve changed drastically.

These personal hysterias aren’t bloody funny because people get fucked up pretty easily. That friend was of course dissuaded from taking such a step. But there were others. And there were a few hysterical decisions. I came very close to one such decision and stopped just on the precipice.

* * *

The world has changed in many ways in the past two years. And there will always be further changes, some sudden and drastic. The predictions about the year-end events still seem alive. The Mayan calender has ended, but there are major Galactic alignments happening on Dec 21st this year. As we move ahead in this year these could be the questions and expectations, at least with some of us--

Will there be a world wide economic meltdown this year, as anticipated in many circles?
Will there be a disclosure of Extra Terrestrial contacts with humans, leading to subsequent announcements of access to advanced technologies and free energy?
Will the peak solar flare activity by this year-end result in the collapse of our electrical grids? Will this trigger a massive break-down of our modern systems?
What will be the outcome of the Galactic alignments on 21st Dec 2012? Will drastic Earth changes happen because of it?
This is a biggie--Will the Messiah arrive in this year?
And will we have an explosion of awareness leading to a state of enlightenment or near enlightenment for everyone? Do we enter an era of peace, prosperity and universal brotherhood after this?
Add to this my cynical question:--Will we wake up on Jan 1st 2013, the same way as any other New Year day, with none of the above happening? A major Tuss Pataki...

My hunch says that the last one will come true 99%, though I’m sick and tired of the same old life and would hope for a 1% possibility of something big happening.

* * *

What I’m not cynical about, not yet, is the possibility of an awakening, at a very personal level. And this spiritual awakening can happen, and has happened, at individual levels, through individual efforts and heart-burns. No Guru, no Path and no external event can trigger such a paradigm shift in anyone. I believe, it’s always you and your efforts at meditations and personal transformations that lead to such an awakening or shift in awareness.

A tradition/path/guru can show you the way but no idiot can remove your brains, rewire it and put it back so that you have a ‘ah this’ realization. You gotta walk, reach or keep stumbling on the long winding path. The further you walk, the clearer you become. So if the world around you collapses, you’re game for it. And if nothing happens you aren't bothered, because you’re looking out with new eyes, with an expanded perspective. What has changed for the better is You and that’s what matters finally.

My friends at VishwaAmara have brought out their second book- Communing with Light, which for me is such a tradition that shows the way for anyone to walk on. I still consider ‘Light code Activiations’ by Soluntra King to be the best book which anyone can follow to move towards a spiritual awakening, without the constraints of a path or a Guru. Yet, this small booklet has the best techniques tightly condensed together between its minimal pages. And, it’s a free pdf file, downloadable in 10 seconds flat.

Check it out. And this article with three superb techniques for Light body awakening!

This is for you...

2011-11-11T15:49:00.007+05:30

No you can't get rid of the memories. They'll remain reverberating within you, as long as you live, as long as you're a conscious human being. And maybe, it's only in an enlightened state that you're completely free of them.

I have very beautiful memories of her...why-- we both have them. And it's mighty difficult and painful to see the completely different person she has turned into. A heaven-earth difference! And sometimes we fly into a rage discussing her, talking about how she has changed and how many people she has hurt along the way and what not! At times, my blood boils and as I start exploding...

'...you're getting too negative,' comes the caution. 'Think of all the good times we have had with her. Remember the love that existed then, the affection, the gratitude and feelings of mutual respect. Unfortunate that its all over now. Just get over these feelings of hatred and anger.'

And finally this is what I thought. Maybe, she's just like our little son, whom we adore, and who's also a mighty pain at times. We correct him, reprimand him when he doesn't listen, but no, we don't hate, we don't judge. Amidst all the show of disapproval and strictness, he stands closest to our hearts, the apple of our eye. We might reject his tantrums(and enjoy them too many times!) but no, we don't wish wrong for him.

So while she continues to shower her silent anger on us, we go about our business, minding life in our own little universe. No, we don't hate you for what you've become. That's a journey you've chosen and one which you'll have to answer for. From our end, it's only gratitude for all the good times, and a prayer for your well-being and those of others.

Maybe in a distant future(and another space), we'll sit together and have a good time laughing over this difficult period and our amateur responses.

And maybe, we're already there! This, this pain is the memory which we both are reliving from there.

The mist has arrived....

2011-10-14T18:27:00.004+05:30

...and it's heavenly. Early mornings are magical, with a dense white blanket dripping down slowly through the air. It's more pronounced where I live, away from the hot city air. Sometimes, I drive to office at 830-9 in the morning, still breathing through the soft, cool misty air. Another month, and into mid-december, this cover will thicken, with no visibility beyond 10 feet!

The very thought of going to office in this enchanting weather is revolting! How I wish I stay at home, wrapped up in warm pullovers, book in hand, a pad and pen by my side, dreaming silly. Which idiot invented this system where you need to work your skin off, five days a week, throughout the year, come rain or shine?

The Anna team kitch-pitch is only getting murkier day by day. On one hand, they seem to have strong right-wing, anti-congress sentiments yet they don't openly support the BJP. The right wing groups are trying to cosy up to them, and anna seems to be playing the 'blushing girl', rejecting yet yearning for their attention. Now you have Prashanth Bhushan asking for a referendum on Kashmir--like a true liberal--and out comes the nationalistic colours of Anna-Bedi-Kejri.

That these people are hardliners, arrogantly pushing for their own version of governance however flawed, disguised as anti-corruption crusaders, was evident from the beginning, if you observed them closely. They are India's taliban and khomenis in the making. The mask's coming off and, soon you'll see them standing naked. Support them or you're an anti-national. And don't dare speak against the oldman! He's a bloody God, incorruptible and always right. Like all old farts!

There are rumblings of an impending collapse. Of course, this shiver has been there for quite long, with all of us looking ahead at the 21st dec 2012 date. More than a collapse, it's the regeneration and rebuilding of better systems afterwards, that's been my fascination. Some circles are predicting the end of the Mayan calender on Oct 28th, 2011, a couple of weeks ahead. And there's a hint of the beginning of a severe economic downturn in mid-November.

I'm not a doomer but would love to exist in a collapsing system, working through it, rebuilding and witnessing the birthing of better systems, even hoping for an extraordinary and unbelievable future for all. The status quo sucks. If getting through to Utopia means walking into the ruins first, I guess, the ruins have begun to arrive. It's going to be hard and nasty, for sure. But wait, you knew it, didn't you, when you signed up for this---that however beautiful and enchanting this life is, you aren't gonna get out of it alive?

Or maybe, you will, this time round. Not just alive, but evolved!

Be irreverant...

2011-09-30T17:12:00.006+05:30

...even if you get eaten up!!!

The beginning of telepathy...

2011-09-22T17:43:00.002+05:30

'This is my final visit' he whispered silently. 'I stopped following you, long ago...and you know why. I just wanted to let you know that our roads diverge, here, officially! Thank you for everything.'

I was sitting there, as usual and talking. He sat at quite a distance from where I was. Then it occurred. That it had been ages since he had come there, sitting and watching me talk. That there was a time, not too long ago when nobody had dreamt that this day of farewell would arrive and that too so soon. That, within a little more than a year, the communication between us had slid down and down from a direct verbal communication to just whispering mentally.

anyways....

(Okay, we'll look at it from another angle...)

'This is my final visit' I told him, mentally. 'I stopped following you, long ago...and you know why. I just wanted to let you know that our roads diverge, here, officially! Thank you for everything.'

He was sitting there, as usual and talking. I was at quite a distance. Then it occurred. That it had been ages since I had sat there and watched him talk. That there was a time, not too long ago where I would not have dreamt that this day of farewell would arrive and that too so soon. That, within a little more than a year, the communication between us had slid down and down from a direct verbal communication to just whispering mentally(and hoping that he'll catch it).

Heaviness in the heart!

A Small Con for a Big Cause...

2011-08-31T18:34:00.002+05:30

The drama has just begun and it'll only get interesting from here. The Anna hazaare show is over. All are happy and satisfied that the lokpal bill will be passed with stricter filters to check corruption. The govt. had to eat humble pie. A frail 73 year old man lead the second freedom struggle and united the nation for a noble cause. Now, there're bigger battles to be won, beginning with electrol reforms. So the spectacle of this fast, which was assaulting our senses (and getting irritating day by day)is now over and the media is now focussing on other worthier things. Good good.

One question which nobody is asking, and at least someone should point out is this: Did Anna hazaare really fast for so many days? Did he really stay hungry for 13 days and then break his fast? And before he did that, on the 12th night, he stood up on the platform, this 73 year old man, who'd been without food for 12 long days, he stood without a shiver, without tiredness, and spoke eloquently for 5 minutes before singing the national anthem. I mean, give me a break. Does he live in a physical body or has he already transmuted into a Light body?

I have fasted for half a day on many occasions and know first hand the hallowness, the vaccum you begin to feel by the end of it. Baba ramdev, who eats and shits yoga, had to be hospitalized and put on drips after 6 days. Even Anna looked dull, and on his way out, by the end of day 6 and 7. Miraculously after that, he regained composure and got fresher and fresher as days passed by. When his victory was announced, he postponed his 'official fast break' to the next day at 10, instead of doing it immediately! Has he by any chance received initiation from the himalayan yogis, who meditate for months together without food, without water?

It's bloody clear that his fast ended, on day 6 itself, and then onwards, it was a beautiful conjob, a grand tamasha. Either he was given supplements or juice along with the 'water' that he occasionally had. Or whenever he retired to his small room, he must've been fed with essentials. On the last day, he looked as if he had emerged from a good feast. And his team were in no hurry to break his fast and urge the govt during negotiations that 'look, this man is dying, hurry up!' Why would they, afterall? Their man wasn't going anywhere. He was sitting pretty on the stage, not even bothered to pretend tiredness or weakness.

Ya, the cause is important. And noble. To take on the mighty system and initiate a cleansing process--its no mean job. Kudos to anna and everyone(even the absolutely irritating Kiran Bedi) for taking up this cause and bringing the awareness of anti-corruption to so many individuals.

Yet, it's still a con job. In anna's own words...' it's a dhokagadi'! Calling this as the second freedom struggle and comparing the dude to Gandhi, is a national insult to both. They're will be more of such dramas in future, but, as hartosh singh bal said, please, spare us the gandhian halo!

THE OLD PARADIGM IS OVER...

2011-08-23T12:03:00.004+05:30

Received this mailer from Soluntra King this morning....and couldn't help sharing it here. It's so inspirational and so important, wish it spreads far and wide. Pl share it with your friends....

Such amazing things are going on as the old world collapses around us; the biggest thing is not to buy into the fear. The fear created all the control dramas with money, wars, manipulating the weather for droughts and starvation, virus’s to kill certain of the population. As well as nuclear power and its pollution, the trees being cut down, the oil being raped and destroying the Earth. The list goes on and we know in 3d it has a big affect on our everyday lives, but for a moment remember who you are and the love and allowing, acceptance and wisdom that comes from who you are, as well as the Light that shines from your core.

We are being downloaded with new light codes at a rapid rate now and the solar flares and making sure we open our hearts and honour the Sun that we are. Do not put all your attention on the fear that is propagated through the media. In the so called crash in 1987 I did not have a TV and never even knew there was a crash, my life was cruising and I was opening up to new opportunities and taking the next step on my journey. It’s the same now, we are here to take the next step on our journey and it’s all good. We did the fear and destruction experiences in Atlantis and the last shift in cycle. We are now moving out of density as we have experienced it to the max, we have just about destroyed ourselves and the world with greed and lack, fear and hate, control and manipulation, now its ‘change the channel time’ to love, acceptance, allowing, peace, joy and radiant light. This is not lala land but real, it’s happening if you want it too in your life too. It’s all a matter of choice.

The old terminators are out of here, its over, do you want to be caught up in their demise and be taken down with them or realise you are here to do a new thing. Do not buy into the illusion, that’s all it is, love is real, love creates and you created yourself from your love. You chose to experience your creation and so here you are in the third dimension as it falls to dust and the New Earth is created from your love and is multi-dimensional just like you.

The fear we have is in our cells and energy bodies is real enough to us in the third dimension, and it keeps us trapped into the limitations of 3D. When we transmute the fear into love we become multi-dimensional and unlimited. Fear is not bad; we needed it for survival in the lower density realms of the third dimension as it propels us to do something to help ourself. You can feel the fear, it blocks the universe giving to you and keeps you trapped in survival and struggle; so deep breathe in golden light and love and acceptance into the fear, the secret is in the breathe that transforms it fast from your body and all your energy bodies.

Look on the bright side this used to take weeks, months and years to clear; now it’s only a matter of minutes, the Light is so powerfully here now. We are always in the now moment, in no time and no space so everything is in the new, all your dark and all your light so choose which suits you better and love and accept it all.

Each moment is up to you to create, even if you feel down realise it’s only your emotional body so give it some love, imagine magenta pink blasting your emotional body. Or those negative thoughts, do something physical to get into your body or imagine soil coming up through you from the earth and your feet up to your head, this gets you out of your head. Imagine the Sun in your heart radiant and bright as it glows through every cell of your body and out through your emotional, mental, spiritual bodies, one golden body of light from the source within you. Fake it til you make it, do it til you are it.

The big lesson is to have no attachments to the particles of chaos that you created from your belief in limitation and your fear of being in a body on planet Earth. Go deeper into yourself and know who you are, that you create by being the love, by allowing and accepting. What ever others need to do, its not your business, your business is to stay positive and light, to be the beam holder you are and realise that you are always looked after if you trust from your heart. Trust your inner voice and be guided by it, trust your intuition, trust that all is well in your world.

I have had so many experiences in this life of trusting when I have had no money at all, and even while travelling and arriving in foreign countries with no money and where I could not even speak the language. It all worked out beautifully, everything always does, trust that all is well in your life, its up to you, you create it.

If you need to lose money, a job, a house, a relationship then you were too attached to it and so welcome the letting go of the old fear and insecurity and know that something better is coming that is from love not fear. I have even had black magicians try to kill me, and then been job offered by them because they could not get rid of me, reason being I love them; accept them, as we are one with everything and everyone.

So if you have a problem with the dark forces, reptilians, illuminati, bankers, politicians or other similar beings then realise its part of you that is not loved within you yet. So see or imagine that inner dictator or dark lord and connect, deep breathe and tell him or her "I love you. I accept you exactly as you are" until the inner dark you is whole and healed.

If you are worried about the starving people in Somalia or wherever, or the tortured, shot at, nuked, homeless ones around the globe then look at the energy in your first and love it in you, then see the outer ones as whole and healed. That’s if you really want to be of some use in assisting them and humanity.

The greatest gift you can give is to see the divine in everyone right now, then that allows them to be it. If you see them as sick, unfortunate, in pain, traumatised, needing to be helped then your thoughts keep them trapped in that energy. Your thoughts are so very powerful; you create through them, so awareness of how you perceive yourself and others keeps you in either the loop of struggle and fear, pain and anguish or radiant well being, joy and unlimited abundance for all.

Everything is consciousness and we have all chosen our lessons and lives from our level of consciousnesses. There are no victims we created it, so it’s up to you and me, all of us to change the creation to a lighter brighter world for all. So keep seeing and affirming how light and beautiful you are, whole and healed and everyone else, those close and in the collective, all one. You are fulfilling your reason for being here, radiant star that you are.

. We are all divine, we are all beautiful and radiant and each one of us has an amazing gift to share.
Some of us have experiences to transform them in order to understand, some of us have experienced and not registered it all yet, some of us have not experienced much at all for fear of what could happen, but we are all one and whatever your journey remember one thing. You are so brave to even be here at this great shift in cycle, in a body on this planet at such a crucial time. You came in here against all those odds and you are still alive and reading this now, that tells me how strong you are and connected to your inner light, so instead of being hard on yourself, be grateful that you are so strong and brave just to be here right now, in this moment is all that matters, as you glow so bright.

I AM THE DOORWAY, THE WALKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH

The Star that I am as I play on the star of Earth, all joy to the worlds for I have chosen to play in form and experience the creators delight, as I create from the heart, the doorway of my soul is open and I dance in eternal delight.

I have merged the worlds and bridge the Stars and Earth, the Universes and Worlds created by all creation, by all other my selves as I journey through the Void and into the Light far beyond whatever I foresaw as there are unlimited facets in the Diamond so bright that shines from my heart.

Beyond the so called parallel lives in human form and the human dances and dramas: The ancient one is free, the knowing of all universes held within thee, unlocked by acceptance, love and allowing of all forms of life that I/we are: The rock and tree, bird and fish, insect and plant shinning so bright atoms of myself in all of these.

The river flows so deep through the cosmos, the solar barque takes me home into the ancient of ancient. The Earth but a fleeting thought, an image created and yet in that one fleeting thought worlds within worlds within worlds. The ancient in me is all creation flowing through Galaxies and Worlds, Universes from my home to my home all is lived and experienced by thee, you and me, all of us, one particle and unlimited facets of the one thought, one sound, one breathe that came and is coming and goes through and out, up and down, round and round, simply playing in the music of the spheres.

How can I be attached in anyway to what my body is doing, my life, the world as it is, in this fleeting moment, this tiniest particle of a thought of prime creator. As I dance in the breeze, the Sun caressing me with such love, the Sun of the solar worlds; of worlds within worlds, the light that caresses me even in the darkest places, for I am free.

In the One Heart

Love Soluntra

Copyright © 2011 Soluntra King PO Box 11 Whakatane, Bay of Plenty. 3158 New Zealand.
email soluntra@evenstarcreations.com
Web site www.evenstarcreations.com

Permission is given to copy and redistribute these Cosmic Events on the trust that the contents remain complete, all credit is given to the author and it is freely distributed.

living in darkness...

2011-08-03T18:34:00.002+05:30

Not the metaphorical darkness, as in light vs dark, silly! I'm talking about the real darkness. Of the night. The one which is banished by the bright flouroscent lights at sun down. The soft darkness that returns when the power goes pop! And lingers on, until some idiot goes ahead and switches on the emergency lamp. Or lights a candle to mess up the soothing world of darkness.

I would get scoldings(and still do) because of this love of the dark. If I'm near the switch, I always postpone switching on the light even after dusk. If there's a power shut down and I'm anywhere
near the torch or candle, I wait a while before lighting them, trying to enjoy the sudden arrival of soft darkness as much as possbile. Somehow, you settle into a natural state of peace at such moments. Your thoughts arrive with more clarity. Or better, they stop arriving and you get near a state of just being. Without thoughts. Existing.

They say, at the deepest level, you're a spark of light. I would say, you belong more to the infinite abyss, the never ending darkness, than to the finite light. The void is your true nature, more basic than light which came out of it. I guess, you briefly return to that void when you slip into sleep every night. And it's a glimpse of that true nature which makes the occasional arrival of darkness on power shutdown so endearing.

Of course, this doesn't go on for long. Someone switches on the light. Life which had come to a beautiful halt begins to groan and chug along again. You're yanked out of your reverie and peace, back to the hurried world of mundane activities.

And every morning, the alarm beep or the nagging voice of early risers pulls you out from the soothing abyss and throws you back into life.

Well, damn.

Before memory fades...

2011-07-18T14:43:00.000+05:30

VishwaAmara is a chotu website, not known much until now but becoming more visible slowly. It was launched just last year, on gurupoornima day by my friend Karthik and his sister Kavitha, to share some very rare knowledge which they were receiving through higher spiritual experiences. One year has zip-zapped-zoomed like a supersonic jet!

I remember just before the launch of the website, he said, 'it's exciting and thrilling, yet scary-anxious'. From then on week after week, they've presented information on various aspects of spirituality. I think the most interesting revelation came last year when they said, '2012 has been postponed'--which nobody in the New Age circles knew (or were talking about). Then there was this awe inspiring information about realities which is not recorded even in our scriptures--the knowledge about Mula Brahman--the Primordial God and the unmanifested Universes. A couple of months back, they published articles about the living Gods on our Earth--Lord Kalki and Lord Mahavatara. In between there were series of articles--one on the Light bodies of the future, along with techniques which anyone can practice to shift into such advanced bodies. Of course, the first article itself was one of the most important ones--How to start meditations(and its benefits). In one year they've covered a lot of solid ground, an impressive body of 50 odd articles.

These youngsters, sitting quietly at an obscure corner of the cyberworld, bringing down highly esoteric knowledge from the mystical realms and presenting them to everyone in an easy method, without much fanfare, with no expectations whatsoever! This work ain't simple, ain't easy. The passion they have for their chosen work(or, did the work choose them?), the dedication they bring to the table and perhaps most importantly, being grounded amidst all the excitement and josh! Zero pretensions. Simple-straightforward warmth.

I asked him recently on what the impact of his website has been since its launch. 'It was necessary to put all this pure, undistorted knowledge from the Rishis in public domain,' he said. 'We wanted as many people as possible to know all these. And We've reached quite a lot of them from different parts of the world. Many have decided to take spiritual guidance from us. Perhaps most importantly, we've been able to spread a lot of energies directly through these articles, through this website....'

Now...there's this book. The Light Age-a guide to humanity's spiritual evolution. I had expected it to be a paid download, with some free excerpts, considering the value and depth this book has. Or maybe he'd find a publisher and release a paperback. But this dude's giving it away for free! Anyone can download it in an instant-- an elegantly designed book containing invaluable knowledge about the times we live in, the hidden spiritual activities that are going on behind the scenes and the extraordinary life that awaits us in a few years from now!

He has mused about the various aspects of his work in the latest article. And yeah, something he speaks less about--a request for donations. For a website that's been providing such wonderful content for free for over a year and now giving away a book, this request has come quite late. I guess, it's only through generous monetary support that such activities can be sustained.

Soluntra King, the lightworker from New zealand has written an affectionate and fantastic afterword to this book. Worth reading at least a dozen times(for its value, and also because you don't get it all in one read, hehe!)

Here's wishing the VishwaAmara team--Karthik and his sister Kavitha-- a hearty congratulations on completing one year of the website. Let them download and bring forth many many tomes of knowledge from the higher realms and make them available to all of us. Let more books get published from VishwaAmara.

Let there be Light and more Light on our beautiful planet, through initiatives like VishwaAmara.

Holy...

2011-06-22T12:44:00.004+05:30

Days of little sleep.
Fighting a thousand battles.
Battle weary, tired.

Not knowing if this road leads 'there'
This invisible burden
where does it come from
and why am I carrying it

Remember something someone said somewhere---
Nobody will come and lift you up,
take you out of your misery.
It's your own funeral and only you
gotta attend it

Don't know if this is liberating
or horribly scary
--that you have nobody but yourself to depend on

Questioning your own motives,
asking... Why?

A moment of clarity
that
it does not matter
either way
Whether you choose to lift your finger
or just let go and do nothing.

Still
walking this road
stumbling
stagnating

waiting
for the strength
to kick in from within
to get up
and start walking again

yeah, it arrives
in trickles
...

The second joker's arrived...

2011-06-03T14:44:00.004+05:30

and it's Baba Ramdev who's sending shivers up our Government's spine with his threats of a fast unto death. So we have quite some drama all over the place, with people taking sides and fighting over the rights and wrongs. Some accuse him of politicizing the issue to gain some mileage(He after all has intentions of 'cleaning up the mess' by joining politics). Questions are raised about his assets and wealth while he continues to provide homilies about bringing back our black money stashed away abroad. There's also this argument which looks at the positive outcome of this nautanki . If there's an uprising, an awareness against corruption with such acts, what's wrong?

If you ask my opinion, he should be allowed to continue to fast unto death and actually achieve it. That is fast...unto death! A mere empty threat doesn't work anymore, so he should be supported in his suicide bid. This has a double benefit. One--the protests against government apathy or corrupt practices will not fizzle out(as it happened with anna hazaare movement). A self-sacrifice will alert the govt and also wake up everyone else, and there'll be some real outcomes and concrete steps taken instead of empty words.

The second benefit is more encouraging. No other scoundrel will dare issue threats, saying, 'Look guys, if you don't listen to me or agree to my demands, I'm gonna stop eating and die'. Because he knows that he'll simply be allowed to die, so there'll be no dramas, no posturing, no debates on television, no political mileage. People will start behaving like human beings and think of solving issues, the way humans are supposed to.

Else, this is a perfect launch pad for the Baba to enter politics and upset the power balance. He says he wants to clean things up and take the nation forward. Such cock and bull stories are good to sway audiences but look carefully--he's fucked up with power-hunger and self-importance. And yeah, we all are naive to doubt his intentions.

* * *

May 21st arrived and went without a whimper but there was one nut in the US who had proclaimed the end of the world and the arrival of Christ on this day. Looks like he wasn't an ordinary nut but quite a big shot. Now he seems to have gone cold!

At times I have similar misgivings about the December 21st date next year...that nothing will happen, while we all dance and cry ourselves hoarse about the alignments, calenders, solar flares, earth-rotation-reversals etc. (though VA says, things are postponed to 2015). That is supposed to be a major point of paradigm shift, where life as we know it will go through a total upheaval and we'll have consciousness shifting events occurring. But what if nothing happens? Absolutely nothing?

That could be the real paradigm shift! Nothing happens and all those who've invested a lot in it, emotionally, with full faith will just go mad. A lot of people who are simply fed up with the world and want things to change are going to be majorly let down and disappointed if no big thing occurs. They'll just collapse because they thought it would all be over, but no, the bloody life continues to stare the hell at ya for another eternity. Is that the collapse? The real collapse?

Take a bet but I guess, we're in for a huge cosmic joke. The Gods above will be rolling on the floor laughing at us for predicting what's gonna happen in future. They must've already started giggling. Let me be bloody wrong, damnit.

* * *

Amidst all this nonsense, something to hold your heart in a soothing embrace.

Pakistani singer Atif Aslam crooning from his depths. The silky, seductive whispers of Alisha Chinoy. You gotta have the red hot pair of Ranbir-Katrina in mind as you listen. A superb blend of melody and beats. Some yearning, some longing, a hint of lust.

What you have is a song I've been listening to non-stop since two days. Superb!

Such a long journey...

2011-05-06T14:42:00.004+05:30

He's a young man with curly hair, soft eyes and there's this girl with him. They're inquiring about meditations and I'm at the information counter at Manasa on a Sunday morning, telling them the usual things. Soon he joins the weekly meditation classes, one among many others, and forgotten.

A month later, he's again in the news and suddenly in the spotlight when we come to know that he wants to join Manasa and work as a full-time volunteer. There are a few others too who've decided to join but they've been students for quite some years and are intimately involved with Manasa. This guy is a newcomer, hardly a month old into our spiritual organization and his decision to jump in totally creates a flutter and awe in us.

That evening, a few of us volunteers are chatting and he joins us. His name is Lokesh Chandra Das and he comes with an illustrious background. 'I was at Infosys,' he says. 'Now I'm doing my doctoral studies from Pennsylvania University. I've to submit my thesis next month. I'm on a short leave to India.' He has plans to go back to US, submit his thesis, get his degree, come back and jump into the spiritual work.

Those are heady days of idealism and we're young, unmarried, without additional family responsibilities, and totally gung-ho about taking big leaps into the unknown. Lokesh is a hero for us (for me, I guess). That evening, we drive a mile away to Antar-manasa, and sit chatting late about all things sundry. Lokesh opens up about his background, about his dreams, about what drove him to spiritual studies and sadhana. Someday, I reflect, I'll be like this guy and like others here. I'll dedicate myself completely to spiritual sadhana and work.

Just a few days later, the dream bubble bursts--probably one of the first bubbles. I've yacked about it, a bit foolishly, here. Lokesh is sent away unceremoniously, after he makes an ass of himself and chickens out when he's asked to make a small commitment. We're told that he had selfish designs and personal motives in joining our spiritual organization. He exits as suddenly as he'd appeared and is not seen again.

Cut to three years and suddenly, he's there, on the day of the Light Channels World Movement. And this time, he looks like a sadhu, with an unkempt beard and long, matted locks--totally unwashed and smelling awful. He's standing there, in the huge auditorium, along with the thousands who'd come to attend the launch of the Light Channelling event. And there's a girl with him, probably his wife-- both of them are wearing saffron-- and he's carrying a small kid, a two year old, his daughter. 'It's a long story,' he smiles. 'I'll tell you some other time'. I'm overwhelmed with emotions at seeing this guy after so long, and in this condition, but more so, thinking about the little child he's brought into this world, and the future it'll have with this recluse.

I meet him once more after a couple of days.

Today, two years later, we have this terrible news about him. That he killed his Israeli girlfriend and stored her body in a freezer for a month before surrendering to the police!

Just shocking and unbelievable. This dude.....

Steam off!

2011-04-18T18:35:00.003+05:30

To belong to a group, to feel one with many others....this must be one of our Strongest motivations. It seems to be ingrained in us at a very deep level, for we act upon it without giving in a moment's thought. And at times, we go to great lengths to feel one with a bigger mass of people, inspite of having a slight nagging doubt about the sanity level of this mass. There's security in numbers.

So one of our biggest threats is to be left out of a group. To be excommunicated. To be alone, unwanted, unrecognized, outcasted. It's as if, as social animals, our chances of survival and success are quite slim if we're on our own and without the support of a group (which is also true to a large extent).

The best reward you can give someone is to bring him inside the cosyness of a group and shower him with attention and adulation--- make him a small scale superstar. And the biggest punishment is to put him on the fringes, out of the coveted circle and make him an untouchable. But for that, you need to establish the greatness, the specialty and uniqueness of the group. People should feel, 'Uh, this is where I get my orgasms, this bunch,' and then you have it! They will follow the group like sheep and salivate for the biggest reward..... or stay the hell outta attracting the biggest punishment.

Of course, this doesn't work on idiots who aren't bothered about the carrots and sticks.

Becoming such an idiot should be one of the subtlest but most important goals of your life. Developing a devil-may-care attitude and manifesting it at every given opportunity should be your top priority.

Not that this will get you thrown out, as a result of which you'll starve and die. Na! At the deepest level, you're one with the whole universe and there's no manipulation at that level. You're always taken care of, no matter what!

But having a don't care attitude frees you from all superficial relations. Sooner it happens, the better for you.

Anna Hazaare Zindabaad...

2011-04-12T14:25:00.002+05:30

...that's what little Eeshu was screaming on day 2 of the fast. Then he got bored and switched over to other things. Looks like the rest of the world(that is, TV watching middle class India) isn't yet bored with Anna. This euphoria will continue for a few more days until the IPL Cricket fever rises and grips everyone's throat.

Who doesn't have issues with corruption(other than those who enjoy its fruits)? The scams that are making headlines everyday are alarming, so is the apparent shamelessness of those who are perpetrating it, or defending themselves. At a more personal level, I have trouble with it when the telephone lineman doesn't give me a connection until I grease his palms. I cringe when my cousin who's a police constable talks freely about his exploits at making big money in shady ways, because he's paid a bomb to get to that post in the first place.

So when Anna hazaare and others come forward with a fast unto death to root out this menace and bring accountability to those in power, it's like a fresh breeze amidst a hell of a gutter smell. I feel like dancing when the Government agrees to setting up a 10 member commitee, with 50 percent participation from the civil society in drafting the Jan Lokpal bill. It's as if the revolution of Egypt and the middle east has arrived in India too.

After the celebrations and break-dances subside, these are some random thoughts:

* Who selects the five member commitee representing Civil society? What's the Criteria? ( it appears now that they're selected by Anna Hazaare. Super!)

* The Jan lokpal bill that's proposed by the agitating members has some serious issues to be dealt with. It gives unprecedented power to just a few members--power even over the Supreme court of India! And these members, those of the Lokpal commitee are to be selected by an elite group of citizens (Nobel laureates, Bharat ratna award winners, Retired Supreme court judges, International award winners etc). And the decision of the Lokpal commitee cannot be questioned either!.... Do we need to bring in a hammer to get rid of a headache?

* If the fence guards the garden, who guards the fence? With such sweeping powers at its disposal, what's the guarantee that the Lokpal commitee will be free and fair and incorruptible? Are the members of the commitee including its chairman too subject to its jurisdiction? Either these issues are glossed over or nobody's explaining it clearly. Two interesting articles which dissect the Anna movement...this and this.

* This revolution ended in just 5 days and everyone's happy! Uhh!! And they're saying, it's just a beginning. Beginning of what? More such shorty shorty revolutions, telecast live on 24 hour newschannels which'll make all happy? The agitators are talking of electrol reforms, judicial reforms, etc, etc. So who'll sit for fast the next time to force the government to implement them? Blackmailing is good as long as it's done to get an icecream. Annaji says that 'if this is blackmailing, then as long as I'm alive, I'll do it.' What if every other joker goes on a hunger strike to enforce his ideas? What if the agitating Gujjars sit for hunger strike demanding reservations? How about similar hunger strikes in both Karnataka and Maharashtra over the border issues? What if the Kashmir separatists sit for 'anshan' asking for separate statehood? And imagine a media whipped up frenzy which portrays these agitations as 'the next freedom struggle'? Will the government start giving in to all these demands just because you won't eat food until somebody listens?

* There's a lot of Anna worship going on at present, which is likely to increase in the days to come. This elevation of someone to a demigod status and denouncing anyone who disagrees--this is slightly disconcerting and dangerous. Anyone who disagrees with Anna or takes an opposing view in the debate is likely to be branded a cynic or in cahoots with the corrupt. It was amusing to watch the doubters get cornered and soundly thrashed on National debate on Television, although they raised some valid issues and points. Anna-fanaticism ain't cool even if the old dude is God incarnate.

* I'm sure there'll be lots of tu-tu main-main in the coming days between Anna's people and those in the power corridors. And Anna hazaare will be in the news for many wrong reasons. He'll say something and then retract it or say, 'that was in another context'. His past will be dug and some unsavory bits will be held up(like his support for Raj thackeray). He's already displayed his awe for Sonia Gandhi on one or two occasions(and denounced for that by a few who in turn got thrashed by the rest). He's gonna make a fool of himself but that's okay, I guess.

* Gaurav Sabnis at Vantage point has a balanced view of this whole episode. The old man from Ralegaon, who was relatively unknown until now is getting a bit overwhelmed by this National icon status. People want a hero and they've got one in Anna Hazaare. It'll be tough for him to maintain the herogiri. The awe-struck devotees need to realize that he's human too. That one will be difficult.

Change's in the air but these are early days to call it a revolution or a second freedom struggle. Anna is not a Gandhi fighting three hundred years of foreign oppression. Overhauling the system will not happen overnight. Yet this is a promising start. Instead of taking extreme positions in hailing Anna as a second Mahatma or rubbishing everything, the need of the hour is to think through patiently and stay sane.

Kothigalu...

2011-03-24T16:56:00.003+05:30

It's funny how things which are sacred and sacrosanct in your younger years appear foolish and downright stupid once you get past that age, once you grow up a bit and gain some perspective.

When you look back, you squirm uncomfortably for those actions, those thoughts, that attitude which your younger self possessed. You want to travel back in time and kick that bloody fella for being such an ass. You want to shake him up and say, 'hey, wake up. you don't know what the eff you're doing.'

And that idiot is screwing up your life, because what he does will shape your life down the years and you'll have trouble cleaning up all the shit that he caused in the first place.

In the middle of a 'friendly' arguement, she says, 'I know what you did and what you said, 'then'. How could you be so insensitive and such a boot-licking chummy like all those other idiots?.' And I wanna protest saying, 'It wasn't me. He was someone else, so kindly excuse. I'm not him.'

Of course, I am a different person now. And a few years later, I'll be somebody else. Maybe my future self will look back at my present self and feel a terrible discomfort for my current, sacred, precious actions and thoughts. He'll think, 'What a joker! what was he thinking back then? what the hell was he doing there?'

Even more horrible is to live in ignorance of ones own foolishness. And to continue plodding on with the same mindset, the same actions.

Wake up and you realise your lunacy. Try to fix things and years later, you'll have another awakening which'll make you embarassed for all those fixes you tried. Don't wake up at all and you're a gone case.

Being a perpetual idiot seems to be the default human condition, even for the wisest monkey amongst us.

Let this not be the future...

2011-03-16T15:59:00.005+05:30

...but it looks like we're heading there! Last night we had smses saying 'don't go out if it rains, it could be an acid rain because of the nuclear meltdown in Japan,....etc.' The rumour mills are busy; even we're tempted to send it across to everyone we know.

One earthquake of this magnitude, a tsunami and the world's shaking. What'll happen if the 2012 scenarios playout, with the alignments with the galactic centre of 21st december creating major earthquakes? What could be the magnitude of destruction and loss and chaos that'll follow such events? Are we ready for that? Can a spiritual awakening help us sail through such catastrophes? Can we(can I) make a cut in so short a period? Practically, I'm bloody cynical, however intensely I wish for a shift in consciousness, for an explosion of Awareness. Let me be wrong.

I've been following brady's blog on and off over these years. He has blogged about the tsunami, the aftereffects, about his daughter who's staying near the turbulent zone. And this is a beautiful piece, shared by Ananda. Stunning.

What's warm and comforting is the reaction of the survivors of this catastrophe. There's no rioting, no looting, no chest-beating dance! The Japanese are picking up the pieces, gathering whatever is left and starting all over again, in silent dignity. It's normal for them--this strong community feeling is a part of their living, but can we imagine such composure here or elsewhere? If such destruction strikes us, I guess, more people will die in stampedes and after-riots than because of actual events.

There are new ideas and perspectives from Karthik and Kavitha. I'm waiting for more of them on their site, Vishwa Amara.

How to define this...

2011-02-14T18:06:00.005+05:30

It's so easy to get emotional and all sentimental.

I was standing on the empty crossroads, listening to the rustle of the old peepul tree, watching my son throw stones at the calm evening river. Part of me was lost in the beauty of the moment,
awe-struck into silence. And the other part was recalling many incidents over the years of my childhood, which were related to this place, to this peepul tree, to the evening breeze of this river. I wanted to pull back those moments from the past and relive them!

And there was this grief that those moments and those people had just passed and faded away, out of reach and gone forever.

There were many places that kindled this joyful grief. I was visiting my native villag e after nearly a decade. The village hadn't changed much, apart from a few things here and there. Kids had become adults, adults had grown old and fragile and the old had departed. The Sea still roared with a silent majesty. The river flowed effortlessly into the vast blue. Familiar faces smiled back on the roads with 'how're you?' It was like I'd visited it only last month.

Yet there I was, trying to hold on to the memories these places evoked in me. Fighting an invisible pain. Not knowing how to heal this wound. Not even knowing why this wound exists in the first place.

No, it's got nothing to do with 'stay in the present, let go of the past' thing. This emotion beats my understanding. It's not grief... grief or sorrow is not the right word.

It's something subtler.

update: the answer seems to be Mono no aware(the pathos of things)

it's a japanese term which describes the awareness of the transience of things, along with a gentle sadness at their passing.

Back to navel-gazing...

2011-01-28T17:59:00.004+05:30

It's like waking up after years and years of deep slumber. Kinda disoriented in the beginning. Then you try to make sense of the surroundings, try to remember things, get adjusted to the light, overcome the initial nausea and soon you're getting clear within....

.......... The mood was a bit sullen at home when suddenly tejas mumbled some nonsense, and said 'painthyow'. We laughed out aloud, the spirits brightend. I ask the kid, 'whats the meaning of that 'paintyow', and he says, 'it means, my head'.

........I was thinking about what G said long back...."your thoughts and emotions exist, they are real, the world you create is real and has a life of its own, at a different level". For me, at the moment, it's only theory, but maybe he said it from his experience, from viewing things directly. If it's true, I wonder at the beauty of it, the complexity and the way it's allowed to come into existence without disturbing(or disturbing at times) the dominant physical reality.

It also creates a hollow in my heart, because of all the dirty thoughts and nasty daydreams I conjure up every now and then. Do they exist and is that drama continuing at some level? How does the impurity or purity of that existence affect my reality here? Is reality one big kaleidoscope of all these subworlds intersecting and coagulating together?

And what exactly is reality? In enlightenment, what happens? Is it like waking up and realising that all this was a dream, and then going back into the dream world, but with the awareness that this is a dream from which I have woken up? What's that I wake up to? Are there layers here, say a higher reality to which I open up even after the first awakening, and on and on? Where does it end?

..........There's a small review of my blog, here. The writers over there have a talent for taking apart a blog, scrutinise the mental health of the writer and then use all filthy/foul expressions in a hilarious way to tear the blog into shreds. Not always, of course, because sometimes they're quite generous when they come across a superb blog. Also, their suggestions for improving one's writing are good. I was expecting a bashing over there and was sharpening my knives to cut their innards incase they got nasty, but no, they spared me, along with some insightful comments. If you have a blog and want some fun, submit and get ready for a reality check.

.......... 'Time's compressed further,' kar said. '7 and a half hours now'. You may not believe this mumbo jumbo but think...doesn't time zip ahead these days? We're already in the beginning of 2011, and it's only like yesterday where we were told,"....by 2011 there will be this and this, and you're expected to be that and something else." 2010 yacked hard at your balls and before you could gather yourself and blink, it escaped. Now you have another bitch in front of you, a supposedly meaner and nastier one. What's in store this year?

This will be year of shedding clothes, for every retard on this planet. People are gonna get naked upto their bones. The signs are already bloody ominous, if you're awake and are watching. How different will the world be from our current situation, on Jan 29th 2012.....Can't hardly wait!

Fear rules our lives

2010-09-30T13:04:00.007+05:30

The ayodhya verdict will be out today, by 3.30 pm. There's anticipation that riots will break out, people will kill each other in the name of their god-forsaken religion. Looks like we perpetuate these events by expecting them to happen, by saying 'dont do this, let's remain calm, etc'.

The schools/colleges are closed. Banks, govt. offices too. Not the IT Companies. Many have a half day work scheduled. My office wants me to be here by 7 and leave before 2. They want us to work, no matter what. If they declare a day off, they'll tell us to come work on a Saturday. Scumbags! I look forward to the day these corporates are destroyed never to wake up
again in all eternity.

Of course, we arrive at work, resenting, kicking, praying that no untoward incident happens. We work. We go home. 'You are a slave here', nobody says but it's written all over, you just gotta see and recognise it. Even the topmost manager is a bonded labourer here, just that he's a slave with the biggest dick.

Yesterday night, some of us, maybe a few hundreds, prayed for peace at 10. We channeled golden light to the entire country praying that in this battle between the light and darkness, let light prevail, let every individual listen to the voice of sanity and not destroy another life, another's livelihood. I remember Soluntra's advice--that when you send light to a person or to a place, for healing, you've first decided that that person/place is sick and needs healing. So that 'sickness' is reinforced and the effect of healing isn't longlasting or effective. Instead, she says, imagine that place/person as already divine, already healed, already glowing with their innate light and you're just recognising this divinity!

I think what she says makes much more sense. I wanna do this today, do it now.

I wonder if we can move into a new age without this turmoil, without this churning. without cutting out each others' innards. Is it possible? Have we learnt our lessons? Do we even know that there are lessons? Do we even pause to think, to look up, to ponder over the bigger picture?

Ah...this!

2010-08-26T12:51:00.004+05:30

I'm standing in that corridor, welcoming people with a smile, cracking a few bland jokes with friends, feeling happy and generally content with life when suddenly it hits me. This realization. As if it was hovering above me all the time, waiting for a chance to jump on me. You call it satori? Not so powerful or earth shattering but similar. And it leaves me thinking, 'yeaaah, so this is what it's all about....'

The realization was simple. That I could no longer be standing there, smiling at people or patting friends' backs. It all could end any moment. And I had no control over this. All these relations, this camaraderie, this deep affection--just a whisper and it vanishes. So fragile! And it's not my whisper either. Like there's this wedding party in some village in a remote part of Afghanistan and all are happy and dancing, and then, there's this faint sound, someone's pressed a button somewhere and moments later, there's only fire and smoke and ash and blood all over. No, not that drastic but you get the drift, right, this someone somewhere thing....

As this realization washes over me, I stand there wondering how it takes me so long to find this out. That those you hold close to your heart, those who held your hands, those who showed you a way--all of them whom you consider your own--, and this purpose of life you get to define over the years.....one gesture is enough to crumble this world. Saw it happen with a few others. Thought it might not happen with me. Had this holier than thou attitude.

It liberates, kinda. Doesn't depress. The more fragile things are, the more valuable they become. So I stand there for the next part of the hour, enjoying every moment of those interactions. Let it end, but while it lasts, I'll savour every last drop of it.

(image courtesy: Christian bothner)

Eat your poison...Swallow your darkness

2010-08-06T16:39:00.002+05:30

Only rants for now...

2010-07-22T15:25:00.005+05:30

I have issues with people who say, 'don't go by surface appearances, look deeper'. And it gets all the more troublesome when these dual personalities--something on the surface but something else deep within--are those who're close to you. Or who were close but not anymore but still pretending to be(more layers of duality here!). What's deep within is what reflects on the surface. If you're evil, it's there for all to see. If you're good and decent, be good and decent everywhere--in your behaviour, speech and in your deepest thoughts and emotions. Simple sa funda!

If you can't recognise these double-standards, then

a) the trickster is a real smart-ass in concealing his true colours
b) he's plain lucky because you're dumb
c) you know what is what, but are scared to admit--to others, to yourself-- so you pretend.

Choose your pick. Don't wax philosophy.

* * *

Desipundit has died. Not that I was a big fan. I visited it only sporadically and got a few good posts to read. Then it was there, just another blog-aggregator. Yet, I'm saddened that it's gone.

Barry is no more. I'd read just a few of his posts, that too at the threshold point when he blogged about his cancer. His blog too was there, one among the millions in the vast landscape of the blogworld.

I don't consider myself too sentimental. But when something ends, when some relation snaps, when you don't see someone anymore, I can't take it as if nothing has happened at all. Maybe it's a bloody cliche but something in me goes for a toss when I realise that someone I know is no more. Or that I'll not be able to see or meet that person now onwards. Doesn't matter if that person is very close or just a faint acquaintance.

It doesn't apply only for those who die. Even when the dude who's sitting next to my seat for the past 3 years submits his resignation, I feel a lump in my throat. Maybe I shouldn't feel but it's there.

Or when someone who's been a friend for a decade leaves, it's kinda difficult to move around as if he didn't exist at all.

Wish I were more hardened and detached like many others.

The Thug from Taponagara...

2010-06-12T15:13:00.002+05:30

'You look a lot tired, with that beard of yours. When are you going to shave it off?'

'Not before 21st dec, 2012...'

'Why're you persisting with this look? You look different, like a ruffian...'

Yes, I do. Like a recluse. Like LCD, who after three years reappeared, with knotted, unwashed hair like a sanyasi, but with a wife and small daughter in tow. My appearance has changed in the past few months, because of my unkempt, untrimmed beard--sparse on the cheeks and lush on the chin. I have no reason not to shave, not look like a decent bummer. But I don't think ones appearance changes just because of a change of hairstyle or by the presence/lack of facial hair. When something changes within, in the attitude or way of thinking of a person, it manifests in his outward appearance in subtle and mysterious ways. So you somehow look different if your inner structures are broken or rebuilt, even if you're all trimmed up and pucca on the outer.

In my late teens I grew long hair falling on my shoulders--I didn't visit the barber for almost two years. That appearance somehow suited the introversion and angst I was going through at that time. Looking back, I think it was an act of rebellion, a kind of asserting my feeble rights that made me not cut my hair. Around that time, there was a classmate of mine in college, who had decent whiskers and was a silent guy who kept to himself all the time. In the final year of college, he did a U turn--shaved off his beard and also became notoriously outgoing. It would be wrong to associate his change in nature with the beard but somehow that connection clicked for me. Without the beard, it was as if he'd kept aside a mask, or had gotten rid of something, some block and soon the energy of life was flowing through him. It could all be mumbo jumbo or maybe there's some stupid connection.

When I see a bearded man, I wonder how he'd look if he had a clean shave. Most of the time it's impossible to imagine, it's like trying to think up someone without their ears or nose--the change in appearance could be that drastic. The beard grower also seems to sense this intutively--very few people with healthy beards shave them off; the beards are a part of their face, their personality and will persist for the entire life. If you remove it, either you're keeping aside something and exposing yourself, or you're getting rid of a past baggage and are starting a new phase. Like it happened with a friend, kitty, who shaved off his beard after years and years of his bachelor existence and entered wedlock, with a clean slate(and clean face).

Of course, all of this has no relation or significance to my small, young whiskers. I'm not growing any blocks within, nor am I putting on a mask. But if I look thuggish with this appearace, Yes! I've become a thug off late. I've become irreverant, with a go-to-hell attitude. Good for me, I guess.

New beginning...

2010-06-10T19:06:00.004+05:30

What's the price of independence?

Responsibility! The moment you step out and break free, along with the exhilaration, you also realize that the reins of your life are now totally in your hands. That you have to attend to all the details of life--big and small--and sometimes you never knew that all these details even existed.

We three have now moved out of the city, to a small rented house in Taponagara, close to the new airport. This dream from all these years is
now actualized and with this, there are a number of undreamt challenges. All of a sudden my hitherto sufficient income appears inadequate, and I'm scrambling for more revenues, for more savings, better prospects. Expenses are now monitored; gone are the days of carefree spending. We're setting up a home almost from scratch, deciding on furniture, postponing certain purchases, planning sitting arrangement in the living room, decorations, gardening plans etc. The kitchen looks like a complex jungle, a separate universe in itself, with its own ecosystem--handling and managing it needs a different kind of intelligence. There are new people in my world now...plumbers, electricians, water suppliers, milkmen, newspaper delivery boys, telephone exhange linemen, dhobis...and one needs to be sauve enough to deal with them, get the necessary work done in time, follow up...exhausting at times. A hundred decisions need to be taken and now, it's you who have to do it and you can't deleagate or expect someone else to get it done.

Living in a village also means you're saved from the dirty air, madrush and the congested life of a city dweller. And it also means you're a tad away from the ease and comfort of the modern amenities which you're sure to take for granted in a city existence. Rains are plentiful and torrential. Last week's downpour uprooted several trees, cutting off major electrical lines, and the power was restored after three days, during which we'd to make do with our limited supply of water. Electricity plays hide and seek several times in a day. Mobile phone signals become scarce in the middle of a phone conversation. The nearest market is 2 miles away, so is the hospital. A one way drive to the office consumes a healthy 2 hours through the rush-hour traffic. My parents live at the other end of the city, so a visit to them or a visit from them means you've to keep aside one full day. Nights bring swarms of mosquitoes and packs of vicious dogs whose favourite pastime is to chase any vehicle down the road.

Yet, this is my home, my dream nest, right in the pocket of my spiritual centre. For the past 10 years, we've come to this place every sunday to learn meditations, to understand higher realities, to dream with the masters, sharing the dream with friends...and now we're here, residing in this sacred place. The place of Rishis and Rishi-like people. We're amongst people who are friends for lifetimes. Great energies are anchored here in the meditation halls and towers. Our friends have joined this place and this Work, keeping aside their careers, families and many many dreams ...we can't match their sacrifices but can only get inspired being with them.

Feel good being here. Now.

No smooth sail...

2010-05-12T01:01:00.001+05:30

It's been a period of turmoil. I haven't gone through such a range of intense emotions in so short a period. First it was a kind of disbelief and outrage. Followed by disgust and a terribly intense rage. Boiling anger. Then, pure helplessness when I found out that I could do nothing in the situation. Now it's solid grief at the realisation that many tender buds have been quashed. Something delicate has just died within.

The summer heat blisters during the day but evening skies rain down showers to cool our city. I stare at the empty midnight streets, reflecting on a thousand things. Meditations have gone haywire--it's been ages since I could touch a few seconds of solitude and stillness, amidst the raging fire of thoughts. I've stopped thinking about my career, about my next job and have been just coasting along in my current role. We are about to shift out of this house, from this place where I spent almost all my life. We'll be moving into a separate house--I, archu and eeshu--away from my parents, from my sister's family. It's a new life which we'd been anticipating for many reasons, a bit melancholic, a bit thrilling--an independent existence. There are a few confusions, a bit of clarity and many doubts.

Of course, no journey is smooth. It shouldn't be too. I remember this quote from nick's blog: 'what makes life possible is an intolerable anxiety of an unknown tomorrow'. Why tomorrow, the next moment is unknown. I want to be certain about it, I want clarity but life has a thousand aces up its sleeve. One moment everything's fine, but the next moment, you're in the bad books of those you love, those you respect from your deepest core. You admire a friend, interact with him, only to realise that he's changed into a dumb monster. You never know whom to trust, whom to turn to, whom to confide things in. Gods turn into sub-human beings with feet of clay. A whole new world opens up before you, where you derive insights to look at many things from a fresh perspective and soon many things start to fall in place, start to make sense. People are selfish, they want to be guarded and would love to burn you just to gain a few minutes of warmth on a cold night; but before you start to condemn them, you begin to suspect if you're free of all these virtues. Then you sit up and ask....what now? What next?

The answers aren't coming but I guess, they will.

Sad Insights...

2010-04-30T10:10:00.007+05:30

Don't be in awe of any asshole...

Recognise bullshit as bullshit...

Step back and look at the bigger picture...

Know that everything's in transition...

Do your work..count your blessings...

When thousand voices bark, listen to your common sense...

A spade is a spade and the emperor is naked.

Unfinished ones...

2010-04-22T15:34:00.005+05:30

The 'Thin red line' joins my list of half- abandoned movies. Not that it's bad or unwatchable but I just couldn't find the initiative to continue watching it. So, after 20 minutes, I switched off the tv and drifted into a good sleep, lulled by the faint splutter of the midnight drizzle.

There are many similar movies and even more number of books which couldn't take me along upto the end. Earlier I used to feel guilty for not finishing them, for not doing justice to the contents--as if the book would feel bad for my actions or as if I'm answerable to the filmmaker. A recent realization is that not only is it wrong to stick on to a bad(?) book /movie/job but it's also a criminal act against ones own soul. Stretch beyond a point where you feel 'enough' and soon you'll begin to sense a faint nausea. Ignore it for too long and you get used to that, so, ultimately you'll be plodding amidst a lot of yucky things.

Then it becomes important to stop right there, say 'enough' and actually get out of it. And it takes a bit of balls too. When you realise that you're in wrong company, its only fair that you shut the book, switch off the movie, prepare your cv...etc

Maybe, just maybe, this applies to every other aspect of Life too. When the entire world says 'stay in the herd' but your heart says 'watchout'....what do you do? Play it safe, continue the game and ignore the nausea that keeps building up? Or gather the nerves to follow your wisdom?

From a small act of shutting down an unreadable book to many other challenges, we face innumerable dilemmas and paradoxes at every step of the journey. Do this or do that, stop here or continue for some more time, follow the herd-instinct or listen to that inner voice...? Maybe it's not easy to generalise or find simple answers to all of them. Personally, I'd say, 'keep the bull-shit detector on and when your heart yells out, be unafraid to say thank you for everything but now... fuck off'.

Because, the Universe always takes care of you, no matter what. Life has no full stops, damnit!

a stray thought...

2010-04-13T23:23:00.001+05:30

Suddenly she looked up and asked,'Why are we discussing them over and over? Is there nothing else to talk about?'

She was right. I had become obsessed with those two scumbags from the past few days. All of our talks were revolving around them, their past deeds, their current misadventures, the future disasters they might bring about, etc. Although I didn't tell her, it was the outrage, disgust, helplessness I was feeling about many related issues that bothered me as much as the events themselves. It was as if something had hit me, penetrated and passed right through me in the heart, taking away all that I'd held dear over the years. It was like waking up one morning to realise that you weren't a human being at all but a piece of dirt which had been dreaming all along. Like the ground on which you stand didn't exist any longer and you were in a free fall into a never ending abyss. Much worse than that.

'Life isn't just this. There are a hundred other dreams with us. Let us focus on them. Let us continue our journey and leave the rest for God to take care...'

Not easy. Not easy.

State of living

2010-04-13T12:28:00.001+05:30

Things fall apart
the center cannot hold
Mere anarchy is loosend upon the world
The blood dimm'd tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
are full of passionate intensity
......
-W B Yeats

Some thoughts...

2010-03-28T17:46:00.004+05:30

I wonder at this act of penning down one's thoughts. What could be the motive, the intention behind this?What does a poet want to achieve when he puts his words out into empty space? Does he find salvation when these words touch other hearts and convey the meaning which he filled them with? How does he know that the words have reached the target and whispered something? Does he crave recognition, attention--is that the motive? If there wouldn't be a soul to applaud, appreciate, even criticise or ignore, would he still write, sing, dance, paint, express?

Or does he act out of a compulsion? An unstoppable urge to create, to give life? Maybe the intention behind his creativity is not to share or find glory reflected in the beholder's eyes but to just bring out what's welling up inside. Manifest the inner song. In that moment of creation he is God Himself, a spark of the divine, expressing himself without any expectations.

And maybe, just a moment later he comes down to the human realm, to share his creation with others, just for the joy of sharing. And possibly finds happiness when appreciated, or validated.

Reading Keith Johnstone, you come across a number of 'aha' moments. Then you try it out, put the book aside, reflect...maybe you experiment a bit. 'Keep you head still', 'Lock into the others' eyes', 'Keep the toes out'...you try these subtle adjustments to see if they create different conditions, within and outside as well. His suggestions begin to work, slowly, unawares. There was this book, 'The right to speak', by Patsy rodenburg, which I'd read years ago. After practicing some of those voice exercises, suddenly my voice took on an amazing texture, freshness and aliveness. Keith has a similar effect on you. It's as if a number of blocks that have accumulated inside start to melt away.

One of my biggest fears is that my son will grow up to become just like me. So I cringe everytime someone comes up and compliments with: 'He's just like you, a replica,' and I almost feel like I should stop them in mid-sentence. There are many things that I dislike in myself, that I'm struggling to unlearn, which I don't want to see reflected in him. Maybe these were perpetuated by my upbringing, with the bitterness and humiliations that refuse to fade away from memory. It gets all the more suffocating when I see him go through similar things, many times because of our own unconscious behaviour. At times when I lose patience and yell at him, when his eyes fill up, I sit up with a jolt. I have to remind myself over and over that this little plant needs all the space, air and nourishment...and I have to catch myself from tripping over, at my most exasperate moments, so that I don't trample upon his tender self-respect.

New lessons...

2010-02-23T18:34:00.002+05:30

There's that smirk on all those faces as you continue to speak. It wasn't there when you first stood up and not when you began talking, but soon, slowly their faces light up. You can feel a sweat break down the forehead. YOur voice chokes but you continue to plod along. Soon four of them are smiling at your discomfort, one girl is looking away because she's unable to watch your agony and the last guy's sitting unmoved. You want to kick yourself for being the object of ridicule. You want to be able to talk like a pro and impress audiences. This is a small group of six people, so If you can't talk well in front of them, how the heck can you perform before huge audiences in some distant future. That future where you, along with your comrades, are spreading the word and showing people the way, sharing with them your learnings. That future where you have to appear totally convincing to others. Where you're not supposed to make a fool of yourself. Where you've to inspire others to greatness, so you better become that first.

Yet you continue to blabber, mentally telling the world to gocha hell, 'cause it matters not what other's gonna think about ya. Let them call you a fool, a fool you are. Let them call you a loser if they want to. You're here to tell something today, so let them better hear it or pay attention to your mannerisms if they want to. You'll stand here or somewhere else tomorrow too and continue to talk.

The next available opportunity and again you stand up, but are less nervous now. The quiver subsides, so do the smirks.

The demon's still lurking in the shadows--not totally vanquished. You know that it will die only when you face it. Unafraid. It'll grow in strength every time you shrink back, thinking what the next guy thinks about you. When you let go of that notion, when you detach and say, 'so what?', it's the death knell for the demon.

No, it's not just about public speaking. It's about every fear, every hesitation, every anxiety that has kept you down all the time. Worry about the endresult and you'll remain fucked. As God told the disciple on the battlefield, 'Standup, do it and let the Universe decide the outcome.'

Breaking story on newshour...

2010-02-20T03:32:00.004+05:30

This one

Transitions

2010-02-20T02:22:00.003+05:30

Watched Stalker after downloading it eons ago. You need a different mindset to enjoy this kinda movie, where a single shot spans more than 5 minutes, and the movie's choc-a-bloc with such long shots. You're expecting something to happen but the tension seems to build and build with no resolution in sight and suddenly it dawns...the problem's not with the movie but with your urgency to get to the end, as soon as possible. Then you slow down and try to enjoy the process, unmindful of where it'll all lead to, whether there's really a destination to be reached or not.

Tonight, I'm reminded of the opening lines of a novel....'It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.....' Yes it is, for me. So many things are happening, some good, some not so, and many bewildering. Until yesterday, I was thinking that my muse was dead, that I'd not be able to write anything, ever. One moment, I'm pondering the deadness of my workday life and within no time, I discover an interesting scenario to execute and soon I'm immersed in fashioning similar equations. There are blocks everywhere I look. I blink and the river starts flowing through the cracks and crevices, finding new routes and destinations. Tiredness evaporates. Hope arrives. As complacency sets in, I realize that there are things to be done, tasks to be executed. The journey has hardly begun. I'm toddling.

Yes, I'm a thief, a pirate in the virtual world. I've stolen(downloaded) movies, music and books instead of making an honest payment. Chriss guillebeau says 'Stealing is bad karma, don't steal,' but I say, 'F*** off', as I download movies after movies, siphone off expensive books from torrents and listen to music without paying a dime. The 'Money economy' says 'Pay 1500 bucks for this book', but the 'gift economy' of the virtual world says, 'Dude, get this book at Gigapedia,' and I oblige. Got Keith johnstone's 'Impro for storytellers' but am struggling to find his earlier masterpiece. It's out there, somewhere in the vast landscapes of the cyberworld. Will get ya.

I'm building my own nest. Moving out of one tribe to another. Breaking hearts, also warming a few. I'll be cursed and also blessed. Irrespective of what anyone thinks of me, I'm finally figuring out what matters most, to me. And gathering the nerves to pursue them. Adulthood.

Vision statement

2010-02-09T07:46:00.004+05:30

I remembered this morning the reason why this blog began, one rainy afternoon long back. It was to record the events which I felt were important enough to be recorded, so that I would have a backup for my memory. And also share them with others, the way others shared their life online(with the distant hope that these writings would also bring to others similar joy and inspiration I found in other blogs ;-) ). A bit of feedback and conversation through the comments. But most important of all, a continuous exercise to my writing muscle, which had become slack after I dumped my writerly ambitions and started testing software code in order to pay the bills.

Which means that I can be messy, disorganized and experimental here, simply because this is a testing ground. 'Reckless', as someone said once.

That's the vision. It had got clouded off late. Not anymore.

To be on the road...

2010-01-21T17:05:00.005+05:30

...means to actually belong to the journey. Unbothered about the destination. Absorbed in the process. Living the moment. Stepping out of a secured existence and testing the waters of the universe. Why do you go on this journey? Maybe because you're fed up of the humdrum of the daily existence. Maybe you find life totally screwed up and want to escape it. Or maybe out of circumstances, you go tumbling after life kicks you down the road.

This can have various layers. Every year, millions walk the ancient route to San Tiago in Spain, to the tomb of St James. Paulo coelho's book 'The Piligrimage' is based on his life-changing journey on this route. There are traditions of piligrimage in every culture and most of these have a religious-spiritual connotation. When you're on such a journey, the destination is a bit clear and you've God(or the concept of God) guiding you. And you return back to your life, changed or otherwise. No issues.

Then there's this journey which is undertaken not for a religious purpose, but to discover oneself, to find answers, to share ones truth. Peace piligrim and Jeffrey sawyer come to mind. This is a truer piligrimage than the one that's done as a religious obligation because, nobody but you will decide the path or the journey. The universe is your guide and caretaker, and more often than not, it's a delicate balance between luck and self-grittyness that determines whether you survive to tell your tale or not, whether you come out of it scarred or enriched.

There's another journey, a path without destination but also without any hope. You walk this, not to find answers but because you have no answers. Mostly escapist. Fatalistic. You might get destroyed but it can also enrich you and turn you around, if you're lucky. On the borders of society, you can meet amazing as well as horrible people. I've walked this road twice and come back alive and still hopeful. That experience will remain an important part of my outlook/attitude for the rest of my life although I don't recommend or wish the same for anyone else.

But there's one journey, which I'd not paid much attention to. David Monbiot sums it up in his one line review of a movie:....in which a remnant population flees in terror as it is hunted to extinction'. The movie that prompted these thoughts is The Road. A fantastic portrayal of an utterly bleak future which looks probable within a few years.

We have romantic notions about the collapse of the existing systems. At least I do. And I know deep down that these are not wishful fantasies. I believe(with a grain of direct experience) that life isn't just three dimensional, that there are higher realities beyond our everyday lives, which can be accessed by anyone with the help of sustained spiritual practices. That very soon, as the existing structures begin to crumble, there'll be an explosion of awareness, a shift in consciousness which will take us all to the next level of existence(which will be nothing short of the golden age).

But do we get there without going through an intermitten dark period--I'm not yet aware. Does it happen without any effort from our side? Don't think so. Or what'll happen to those who survive the coming collapses but also fail to make the shift in consciousness? 'The Road' examines such a possiblity, where the survivors have the toughest battle--just to stay alive, to stay sane. This journey, as well as the movie, isn't for the faint-hearted. In fact, you have many characters in the movie taking their lives, unwilling and unable to face the horrible prospect of surviving in a post-apocalyptic world. To stay alive, to continue carrying the fire on this journey, to find meaning in life where no such thing exists-- for these, you need an enormous amount of self-determination, preparation and of course, luck.

Ran prieur lists some of those things we can do, as far as preparation goes: Find a landbase and build the topsoil; plant fruit trees and vegetable gardens; learn to forage and hunt and repair stuff; learn uncommon useful skills; make local friends; work to make your city and region more sustainable and resilient; make friends in other regions in case you have to move; gradually shift more of your activities and dependencies out of the money economy; break your addictions; get healthy; spend your money on tools and skills and long-keeping food; meditate; exercise your intuition. This is not meant to be a complete list, but a list of examples of the kind of thing you should be doing. ..When pavements turn to forests, the pavement does not turn green and put down roots -- plants crack the pavement and grow through it. So do that.

Many on those list, we could be doing already. For me, the attitude is more important than the actual tasks. An optimistic outlook, coupled with a healthy detachment, eagerness to learn/know, humility, tuning to the positives in another person and an affinity for community living. To act and form a commune of like-minded individuals, to reduce the costs of living and live simple, to meditate and experience higher realities, to manifest that expandedness in daily living, to learn self-sufficiency and practise it, to learn and teach essential survival skills--these are the signposts for me, further down the road.

The biggie for me is to experience the mystical and share my truths, to find ways to make the shift in consciousness and to inspire others on this quest. That too is a journey but not a physical one. And the road doesn't stretch out but moves inwards. To be on this mystical road isn't easy. I've been on this road for the past 10 years and am yet to come to grips with my bearings. And amidst all of my other obligations and never ending tasks, it's high time I took this journey seriously and venture deep, with all my heart.

A small time-leap...

2010-01-15T17:39:00.003+05:30

This is wierd or interesting, silly or deep, depending on how you look at it. But worth recording, I guess.

I sometimes open the archives and read the posts I wrote 4 years ago. And then try to look ahead at life now from that point of view. No earth shattering difference has occured in these years but still it's amusing, because back then, I'd not have thought about where I'm heading or what I'm planning right now. Time changes everything--I'm sure, in another five years, life will be completely different, totally unimaginable. If I can look back at my present self from that point, I'd laugh at many things that I find so profound now.

Everyone of us would be fascinated with this apparent time-leap at one time or the other. As a kid, I'd wonder about my previous births, about where I lived, what I did, who my people were back then etc. Or sometimes I'd look into the future and set sail my imagination. Maybe many of these fantasies were fuelled by the stories we heard, the movies we watched as children but for me, reality wasn't just what we saw and experienced on a day-to-day basis but much larger, more fuller and vivid. Our dreams and imagination could be nothing but tools to glimpse the multi-dimensional lives we lead--a part of which filters down into our awareness as 'reality'.

Writing this blog and recording the events/thoughts/perspectives as they occur is one way of preserving a part of this reality, so that someday, if I can catch hold of a few of these posts, it'll be an interesting read, depending on my life-situation then. And what if, in another lifetime, I come across these writings and also know that it was me who wrote all of these? How profound or unsettling an experience would that be?

When you die and exit, you leave everything behind and and start a new journey. Somewhere down that road, you stumble onto something and in a moment, realise that it has leapt across time and reached you, carrying with it a glimpse of that existence. What do you do next? Toss it aside, shut it out and continue? Look at it, absorb it, feel emotional, feel blessed and marvel at the magic of living? Be inspired to probe deeper into the mysteries that surround our seemingly mundane life? What would I do if I came across such a thing today? Something from another lifetime, another era, detailing what I did then?

Two books have leapt across the chasm and arrived at my desk. Whether or not they inspire me to dwell deeper into the mysteries of life and existence is yet to be seen, but first, I'll read them.

state of mind

2010-01-11T12:15:00.003+05:30

So you have one last flame, dancing in the wind, threatening to get blown out
any moment. Half-heartedly, you cup your palms around it, trying to protect it
and at the same time wondering if you should just allow it to die.

Work ethic
I'm not supposed to browse at my workplace. Not that some nerd is monitoring our systems and preparing reports about our online habits. Not even that I give a darn to my manager who sits a few feet away and who can view my monitor in full glory by just turning his neck. Company policy: written: Sit at your desk for 8 hours. Unwritten: Don't browse the internet for non-work purposes.

Yet I break both of them, the unwritten one more so often. Call it slacking off. Or bored-to-death-with-routine. Or squemish rebellion. Or addiction to information-stuffing. Or a five year old habit. Work here gets miserable when the internet goes down. The net is the tonic which helps me finish the job, so that I can hop back onto the information highway. Good? Bad? Who cares, as long as I'm getting the job done for which I'm paid month after month.

Vishnu

2009-12-30T10:24:00.002+05:30

My favourite actor died today morning. I'd stopped watching his movies long time ago. But I can't remember my childhood that doesn't have his presence. We grew up emulating him and his mannerisms, watching his movies with friends multiple times, whistling and howling at his action stunts, getting into arguements and even fistfights with people who spoke ill of him, getting rebuked by parents for using more of my non-natural hand(he was left-handed)....Mom would joke that my aim in life would be to grow up and become his car driver and I remember taking that as a great compliment.

I had seen him only once, in one of his birthday parties. In a movie, he played the role of a soldier who's captured by the chinese army and is tortured. On the day of the release of the movie, hundreds of his fans shaved their heads, wounded their foreheads(similar to how he appeared in one of the promos) and took a procession, praying for the movies success. I was in high-school and I sported a military cut on that day. My friends were surprised that I hadn't got my head shaven. And it was almost mandatory for all his fans to wear a steel bangle on their right hands, the way he did, as a mark of allegiance to the star. I wore one then and still do.

His death reminds me, with an irrefutable force, that this physical reality that we are so deeply engrossed in isn't the only one that exists. I wish I had the insight and capability to directly know and experience the other realities. Being aware of them gives comfort that nothing ends with a heart-attack, that the souls' journey continues even after that. Yet, his departure leaves behind a void within, a sadness that can't be soothed by any philosophy. May his soul be guided to Light.

Enter the Photon belt...

2009-12-22T12:38:00.003+05:30

We sat at 6 pm yesterday, in meditations. Even Tejas who was sleeping until then woke up and sat with us, with his mock gestures of meditations. In silence, we prayed and welcomed the Photon belt.

Our earth entered the aura of the Photon belt yesterday, on Dec 21st 2009 at 6 pm. In another three years, on dec 21st 2012, we will be totally inside it. The next three years, where we will be under the influence of the Photon belt, are going to be interesting.

Whatever the skeptics and believers say about the end of the Mayan Long count calender and the prophesies surrounding it, one thing is evident. There is a shift occuring. A new life is unravelling. The changes that will occur from now on are going to be absolutely unbelievable.

To witness this shift and to participate in this makeover directly is a wonderful privilege for all of us. It's like sitting on God's shoulders and observing evolution unfold. The ride's gonna get bumpy so let's fasten the seat belts.

Small dreams like this

2009-12-18T14:43:00.005+05:30

We still have the 'Worldspace' system but the subscription has expired and we haven't bothered renewing it. No time or space to listen to radio. 'We'll renew it once we shift to a new house,' I tell her. My dream: Make a hot cup of tea. Turn off the lights. Sit by the window. Switch on 'Moksha' channel on worldspace on low volume. In between sips, looking out the window at the night sky, listen to the soft music. Dream for hours on end. Just exist with the soul stirring sounds.

This ain't possible currently, in our single room, with Tejas asleep and the kitchen being two floors below, locked up. So my dream has to bide its time until it gets realized. And when that happens, in that moment, wanna type a few words straight from the gut on my blog. Without pre-meditation.

Quick notes before I forget...

2009-12-17T17:35:00.004+05:30

Just a small observation--or self-observation. Unless something becomes a life/death situation, I generally keep off doing things and stay lazy. Especially if that something is a bit difficult to do and requires an effort. Amazing how long it took for me to make this discovery.

Four years ago, on this day, by this time, we were at a mortuary. Shell shocked. Waiting for Mouli's postmortem to get over. First glimpse at the loss of a close friend.
Remembering him today, especially when I'm reading and pondering into all of this

Tejas wants to pluck a small flower. I ask him to take permission from the plant. 'Plant, plant, can I take this one?' he mumbles and tears a little flower out. And plays with it happily for the next half an hour.

Autumn trees on a patch I pass through every morning, on the way to office. The trees will be felled very soon, owing to the new metro train track that passes nearby. In our burgeoing city, this railway track is required to ease the traffic clogs we face everyday. But at the cost of our lungspace.

Again, why should we think in human terms? Is the tree valuable only because it cleans the air we poisoned? Would it be okay to cut them down if they weren't so useful?

The trees stand there, shedding leaves, waiting for the season to turn to sprout greenery. Do they think, the way we do, in tree terms? Calculating and weighing something based on its usefulness?

Loads of movies getting downloaded every night. Don't know when I'll watch them. Time--a gasp of air to a drowing man. Right now, just collecting and hoarding all good ones.

Hot coffee on an especially cold evening. Biju, who supplies beverages to the entire office is always on the edge, always walking around with his tray, visiting every desk at least three times a day. Overworked. Always polite. Smiling at times.

On success

2009-12-04T12:14:00.002+05:30

Reading 'Outliers' by Malcom gladwell.

It kinda answered or even confirmed something that I'd known all along. That it's not how well you do academically that determines your success in life. I have friends who were bigshots in studies(I too was one of them). They are nothing more than moderates, as far as career success goes. And there are a few 'outliers', some who didn't even go to school back then. They have more financial and social success than the high iq guys. It's not just the 'normal intelligence' that counts but the 'practical intelligence'--how you make sense of the world around and how well you can navigate it--that determines financial/social success.

Of course, it's never too late to gain practical intelligence. Gladwell pins it down to your upbringing, to the environment in which you grew up. I don't agree completely. I guess, your environment does play a role in shaping your personality. But you can always outgrow it, create your own inner models, on your own understand how the world works and adapt to it.

Then you wonder why people give so much importace to academic success. I see kids around being pushed too far into studies, the achievement of some high-fliers constantly glorified, etc. You don't need a book like outliers to tell you that what you learn in school/college is just one part, that there are a hundred other factors required for success. It's plain commonsense. How come people don't exercise it? Are they too dumbed down and stuck in the old paradigm which shaped their lives? Why is our vision so narrow?

Of course, there's a far more important question that arises? What the hell is this thingy called success? Your paycheck? What people around think about you? Your bank balance?

Or is it the opportunity to be what you've always wanted to be? To exercise your creativity? To constantly learn new things and enrich your understanding? To love and be loved? To explore new paradigms? To experience the diversity this life offers? To have the freedom to live life the way you want to? To make things happen, to teach, to share?

Or simply to be at peace...contented? Reminded of a passage from 'The power of now' where Eckhart tolle writes of his state of mind after his first experience of transcendence. 'For two years, I was sitting on park benches, without money, without social identification but I was in the most indescribable state of bliss'

Maybe success is a curious mix of all of the above. Or maybe, it's just subjective. I could consider myself successful but you may see me as someone who's totally fucked up. Or rubbish my idea of success. For all I care.

This book is already a best seller. Does that make Malcom gladwell a successful person? In the narrow definetion which he espouses in his book---Yes..... But in the bigger picture?

Walking new roads

2009-11-17T16:50:00.008+05:30

It’s difficult to ignore certain ideas.

Last Saturday morning we were visiting our neighbours in the locality, to invite the kids for our son’s birthday party that evening. Just then she remembered that there was a recent death in one of the houses. We were in a fix whether to invite them or not, whether it would be appropriate to interrupt their mourning, so just to be sure, we spoke to one of the neighbours.

‘You’re right, but it’s okay, you can invite the kids for the party. It’s an old lady who passed away, and while I’m sure they must be feeling sad for the loss, she was almost 98, so you know....’

I guess this wouldn't have been the scene if someone younger had died, say someone in their 50s or 40s. What's the threshold age after which death becomes acceptable and non-mourning—even expected? You cross that age and, without anyone mentioning it, there’s an unwritten assumption that it’s okay for you to die. What’s that threshold age? 70? 80?

A long time ago, I was visiting some distant relatives with my Dad. There was an old lady in their house, very old and she was kept in an outhouse. Apparently, she was the one who’d looked after dad when he was a kid, so I was half expecting a sentimental scene since he was meeting her after a long time. Nothing like that happened. Dad spoke to her, standing at a distance, probably feeling embarassed and awkward with his emotions. Of course she was in tears. But what struck me was the utter neglect of that household towards this woman. It looked as if their contempt was for the fact that she wasn’t dead yet, inspite of being old enough to leave. She was absolutely unwanted!

Such things may not happen in every family but why do we carry these assumptions? Young—you’re not supposed to die and if you die, it’s terrible. Old—you can live but if you stay long enough, it begins to get difficult. I have some relatives who have crossed this threshold and are still hanging on. I’m sure their deaths will come as a relief to those around although nobody will dare speak it out.

Why is this so?

One could argue that it's because of health, where the elder person has become fragile and beyond treatment, so people around him would wish that he'd depart peacefully. But imagine a younger person who's in ill-health and beyond medical care. I don't think their departure would be welcomed with the same detachment as that of an older person. Whenever we hear that someone has passed away and if he's around 40-60, the immediate reaction is 'so young?', but if he's more than 75, it's a muted silence. If he's less than 30 or worse, even less, the expression turns to horror. I've wondered why. Why should we feel this variance in emotions --since we know very well that death is a reality for young and old alike?

Is it inbuilt in us, an evolutionary mechanism similar to what's found in Nature where the Old naturally gives place to the New, the fresh? Or is it handed down to us by society? A society where youth and strength is revered and the old are carefully pushed aside--for economic and utilitarian purposes? Are we born with this world-view or does our environment fit us with this paradigm?

So many paradigms go unquestioned in our daily lives. Recently I came across this arguement against the 5 day work-week? Who made this rule that we should work for 5 days and then relax on weekends? Why do we accept it so blindly? Why not work on weekends and then relax for 5 days? Really! How many of us even begin to think in this direction?

Then there's this dominant idea, that what you see, hear, touch and sense is only real. Nothing else. Anything other than these must be your 'imagination' or 'hallucination' and hence should fall outside the boundary of 'reality'. That which is validated by the scientific community(?) is only to be accepted but if something that you believe goes against the grain, then you're a freak! I observe this when we speak about 2012! 'What's the proof?' is the question. 'What do the scientists say about this?' Speak about meditations, about shift in consciousness, about expanding awareness. Speak about entering a New Age of peace and prosperity, about the collapse of old systems and the birth of new ones. Or about experiencing things directly, subjectively with the help of spiritual practices and hence 'knowing' reality--- and you'll invite wonderful smiles.

At the other end, if enough people get to speak about it, such things might soon come to be accepted--not because anyone has directly experienced it, but because so many are speaking about it, hence it must be true, somehow!

If there's a choice between accepting a direct subjective truth or going with a popular belief--something that's validated by those around us, how many of us would choose our inner voice? How many of us would risk unpopularity and trust our gut feeling?

Coming back to the initial idea, in the first place, why is death feared and despised? Is it because we don't know what exists beyond that? Is it because our identity is so totally glued to our physical selves that we shudder to even think about the deterioration and demise of this finite self? Who gave us this paradigm that we are just this physical self, and death is the end--the black hole?

As someone said, 'the spiritual isn't hidden, it's ignored.' Maybe true, but again there's this question. Why do we ignore it? Is it an inbuilt paradigm or something that's handed down to us?

When the existing paradigms are getting screwed up, are we willing to consider new ones? Or do we wait for the majority vote to even begin 'un-ignoring' what was ignored all along?

What does it take to shake us out of our rut? To make us sit up and take notice? To pay attention to our gut?

pic from

http://www.flickr.com/photos/petrichor/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Humour and Pathos

2009-11-14T01:17:00.007+05:30

If you haven't let out a hearty laugh, God help you!

* * *

Have you watched 'Raincoat'? Good movie but what really has stayed in me and is still ringing deep is this tremendous song by Shubha Mudgal. Been listening to 'Mathura Nagarpathi....' for the umpteenth time since last morning.

Then you have this line:

Biraha ke aasoon kab ke pahuch daali, Phir kaahe darad jagaav

(She has wiped off those tears of separation long back, so why are you opening those wounds now?')

You can listen here. And a good translation can be found here.

As they say in Enigma, 'Turn off the lights, take a deep breath and listen...'

Just wonderful!

Chotu rant

2009-11-13T14:27:00.003+05:30

Two things happened. One, a long awaited dream got fulfilled, when I purchased a Dell inspiron Laptop. Which means that I can browse/chat/blog/translate late into the night, sitting in the comfort of my small room instead of having to use the common terminal a floor below. Wife and son too have joined the party. He loves Tom and Jerry on Youtube. She's revelling in the new discoveries she's making in the virtual world. Loads of movie and music downloads in the pipeline. Rashomon, An unfinished Life, what not...

Two. When I opened the shiny new laptop and began explaining its features, there were murmurs of approval and congratulations. But amidst these, the congratulating voice was repeatedly getting choked. Lots of clearing throats, all of a sudden.

I know why this happens because it happened to me when I couldn't swallow the fact that my juniors were getting a better salary. My throat got blocked and I had to repeatedly clear it. The emotion found an outlet through my body.

Not that I blame someone for feeling jealous because I could get a beautiful gadget. It's my hard earned money, my long cherished wish, so if you can't enjoy the comfort/success of someone close to you but would rather hide it behind a false smile and artificial words, be warned that your body is speaking the truth. That's all.

Small things

2009-11-12T12:19:00.001+05:30

If you wanna do something, just do it, don't speak about it. I told her last night that I'd want to meditate once tejas falls asleep. 'Atleast for an hour', I thought. And it never happened. Tiredness overtook my will to wake up, get out of bed and sit for meditations.

Would I have done it had I not spoken about it? 'If you want to do something and you're desperate enough, you'll do it no matter what. Why put the blame on something external for your lack of will?'

Maybe not speaking about a goal is also a part of that Will do to something. A tiny part. The major part must be one's desperation and passion to pursue a goal, to do something one finds important.

Until this lasts...

2009-10-29T15:02:00.004+05:30

It's a small cave, not more than 20 feet long. But you need to crawl on all fours to enter it and go all the way to its end. And the entry and exit points are on the same rock face, so in effect you enter the cave, crawl through a bend and come out exactly next to the hole where you entered. Doesn't take more than a minute.

But that one minute would appear like eternity. Anything could be hiding in that bend, any animal or snake and you'd never know until you came face to face. Outside, you had a heavy breeze blowing from the nearby sea but inside that small tunnel, the air was thick, suffocating. The fear, the uncertainty I'd felt inside that small patch of darkness was undescribable.

That small memory is fresh again, thanks to what's happening around in my life right now. I feel as if I'm back in that cave, that small dark tunnel, on a remote mountain of my native village. Suddenly Life appears scary, uncertain, constricted and absolutely suffocating at times. It's as if I'm down on my knees, crawling ahead, not knowing if I'm moving or just scratching the ground. I know that this tunnel has an opening and there's fresh air outside. I also know that this compression will not last long, maybe a couple more months. And nothing's hiding in that bend that's ready to pounce on me. But boy, is this struggle intense!

'Be like tarzan,' He said.'Move around the jungle amidst all danger but hold on to the rope. Be connected to the source. Amidst all difficulties, be aware that God is taking care of you... you'll never suffer, let anything happen.'

The rope vanishes and before I panic, it's there again. I grab hold of it for dear life and stay afloat. I meditate. Slap myself for the small mistakes. Sit still and stare out as the endless night slowly brightens up. The stars fade. The horizon has a faint glow. The sun is arriving.

Everyone's on a journey...

2009-10-06T01:12:00.001+05:30

And nothing stays. Absolutely nothing. Good, bad, ugly, stunning, horrible, pathetic, pleasant, blissful ... name it and it's gone or on its way out of the window. Your wonderful life or your miserable life...it ain't gonna last for eternity.

You are a traveller. Out on this extraordinary journey.

And it's nice to become aware of this, at times. Because most of the time, we get so lost in the details of living that we never realise the bigger picture. We may not even be aware that there might be a bigger picture, something beyond our own small, private nests. That a great network of something... is out there and we're but a part of this complex, beautiful system. Insignificant yet important.

As they say it, 'For the world, you might be just another person, but for someone, you might be the whole world!'

That someone need not be anyone but yourself.

Knowing that you are insignificant makes you humble. Knowing that you are important gives you strength.

It's good to be strong and humble...

...when you're travelling this path.

Rains...

2009-09-23T13:59:00.005+05:30

Downpour.....
cascading
all day long
The whispers of these water drops
from heavens
as they kiss the earth.
A Soothing melody.
You know these whispers
from deep inside,
in your bones, in your cells.
Like you know them from so long ago,
from your childhood moments,
from inside your mother's womb,
from beyond that
in a previous life,
from countless lifetimes,
from eternity since rains were created...

Rolling clouds high up there

gloom in mid-noon

warmth inside a tight blanket

aroma of a hot chilli bonda

fried crisp

wafting in the air.

This sound, this moisture,

these droplets, the cold,

the energy that makes all these possible,

the way it affects and decides
a million varied life-forms,

the way it blocks

and brushes aside everything else

from your awareness,

shutting out all that's mundane
and profound.

This energy...

doesn't come from memory.

As if you've always known it,

beyond the time-space loop which
your present awareness is bound to.

All of these

are not separate
from you.

You

Are

These.

This moment,

when you sense
that you are one

with this aspect of nature,

you also grasp that you're one

with the rest,

with the whole.

The Whole has extended

into a tiny form,

which is you,

which is contemplating

feeling its oneness

with the Totality,

after an eternity of separatedness.

These whispers from heavens

to the longing earth

also wake you up

from

infinite

sleep.

Moist earth,

Clean air

Rising mist

Freshness

arising out

from

somewhere deep

inside.

A void

within.

The void

isn't empty

It was never...

pic by roby bon

With Krishna....

2009-08-21T13:38:00.002+05:30

Suddenly I'm staring at my self, which is 30 years younger.

'Want to go to playhome....No', sobs tejas.

We hug him and allay his fears with 'you'll only play and come back home', 'Mamma will also come with you,', 'We too went to school and playhomes long back,''You'll find many friends and teddy bears to play with'.....but he's not convinced. There's fear in his eyes, the fear of stepping into an unknown world full of strangers, without the assuring warmth of mamma and pappa. The fear I grew up with and still haven't shaken off from my core.

Nothing consoles him. His eyes are about to become small pools of water.

Like with any two and a half year old, it's irresistable not to cuddle, kiss and pamper our child. Our hearts melt at his plight. He's the apple of our eyes, the song of our hearts. Our very own little krishna.

But a fearful little krishna he is. Always playful, adorable, mischievous, sharp but also vulnerable and tender.

We want him to be fearless, to take on the world head-long, to plunge into the world and challenge it. Latch on to his purpose and pin it down. Be a hero.

And I cannot expect my son to be like the real krishna, the lord of the universe who played his flute but also slayed fearsome demons. The butter-thief who played pranks on everyone but humbled mighty rakshasas. The divine child who incarnated to set right the imbalance of this imperfect world. That spark of divinity is present, no doubt, in every child's heart, in every adult's soul. Yet I realize that it takes a herculean effort for that divinity to express itself. Forget divinity--to become the master of your own emotions, thoughts and decisions itself takes the cake.

And how easy was it for the Lord to abandon his childhood paradise and step into the terrible new world, to fulfill his destiny. He kept aside his flute and picked up the conch shell, to become a Warrior, a political strategist, a mastermind. He abandoned the brindavan of his childhood and entered the Mathura of his adulthood, never turning back once, never returning to his homeland, never visiting the sweethearts of his boyhood days. The divine lord steps out of his beloved Gokul, leaves behind his innocence and play to enter the battlefield, to enter the big, bad world out there. The battlefield is his new playground. There are armies to conquer, victories to be won, injustice to be answered. A coming of age tale. The story of every soul in this universe.

In contemplating on Lord krishna's life, in observing my son's anxiety about abandoning a known world, I also realize that I'm in a way looking at my own life, my own fears-motives-anxieties. And what's true to my son is true with me too, in another context, in a subtle way.

I've been enjoying the relative comfort of a 'career' without much risk or change for the past few years. Now the time has arrived to make a change, or abandon this known universe to step into something totally new, totally unknown. And, inspite of my desire to take a jump, inspite of my love for the new life, I can sense an apprehension, a subtle anxiety. Much like my son's fear. And unlike Krishna's acceptance of the new.

I think it was Osho who said, 'Courage will come to you. At any instance, choose the unknown.' This goes totally against the old creed:-'A known devil is better than the unknown angel'. I'm stuck with the known devil, enjoying the sense of security and hope it raises in me, revelling in the warmth of this monotony and changelessness. And in every little act, I seem to choose the devil--either consciously or unawares. The same job, same house, friends, barber shop, groceries, movies, music, food, routine....nothing binds us down than a set of activities where the result is known, where the outcome isn't threatening.

Unless this changes, I know, I cannot move an inch. Unless my kid overcomes his hesitation and fear, he cannot learn and grow.

A friend said once: 'We fear because we're attached--to an outcome, to the known world, to our routine. Only by realizing that nothing remains constant, that everything is in a state of flux do we actually overcome this attachment. With detachment comes fearlessness.'

Only with fearlessness can we embrace a new world that's in waiting. Whether this new world is a classroom full of new faces, a new company with an unknown work-challenge, a new locality with strangers to live with, a new career-path, a new attitude---or a totally new world with a different paradigm....we need to abandon our hesitation, our fear of the unknown, our attachment to the old comforts and jump into the void, so to say.

Lord krishna does this. Maybe that's why he's the Lord. Or maybe he could do this because he's a God afterall.

But the spark of krishna is within me, within my son, within everyone of us--buried deep underneath layers and layers of our egos. My effort therefore should not be to strengthen this ego in any way but uncover the hidden divinity. In every thought, in every action, in every intent of mine, I need to strive to bring this out. I need to make conscious choices, take bold decisions, but first make a sincere effort to lose my attachment with the known world. Love it but keep a distance--internally.

We are at a great and turbulent period in our individual and collective history, where the known is going to collapse and a new order is getting ready to take birth. The signs are ominous--with a little attention, anyone can notice the great surge of changes that are happening all over the world. The financial collapse was just a beginning of this series of waves. The coming days will test the mettle of each individual on this planet and one question everyone of us will have to answer individually is this:'Do I want to go with the new or am I going to get crushed along with the old?'

I can never forget this from 'Rang de basanthi': 'I'd met two kinds of people. Those who went to their gallows wailing and protesting; those who went in silence. Then I met the third type--those who went singing and dancing'.

The gallows of the old give birth to an unimaginable new. How do we enter this crossover point--in fear, in mute silence or in ecstacy?

How can I arrive at this point in ecstacy? How....?

Tweet Tweet...

2009-08-13T17:29:00.003+05:30

Me on Twitter. Here.

And all along I was thinking that it's just mindless chitchat. Nope. Inspiring stuff gleams every now and then. And the links are priceless. Many of my favourite bloggers are already there.

All my one-line musings go there, henceforth. The lengthier ramblings will be here on this blog.

Do you tweet? If so, drop a line and I'll come visiting to your nest

Nothing's crap

2009-08-09T01:29:00.004+05:30

A lone star gives company to the waning moon in the cloudy sky. It's as though the moon's feeling very lonely and a star comes out to say, don't worry, I'm here with you all night.

There has to be this life-affirming force, this immense motivation to live--else you can't lift a finger, can't look beyond yourself, can't take a step further. I've been wondering about this and many more things in the past three days. At one point, I was just asking myself,'Why am I alive, right now? Why should I be? Where's the drive to go ahead with the daily chore? What's the purpose of my life?' You're justified to be in this mood if you're adrift alone on a boat in the high seas for months on end, without the sight of the shore, but to ask this in the thick of life? Maybe life's a sea at times and you get bloody lost.

I'm standing on the terrace, patting tejas to sleep, answering his questions half-heartedly and it's the dead of the night. The road out there is dimly lit, utterly deserted and there's a small arguement going on for the past 10 minutes, between a young man and a lady, who's on a two-wheeler. He appears agitated and isn't allowing her to start her vehicle. Who are these people and what's happening in their lives? Is she married to someone else and having an affair with this guy? Is he stalking her and threatening her to give in to his wishes? He's trying to kiss her, places his hands on her head in a gesture of making promises etc, and she pushes his hands out. What'll happen now? Will he beat her up? Will she shout for help? What'll happen if the beat policemen come up and stop over here? Are these two aware of someone like me standing on a nearby terrace, making assumptions about their lives? Why should I be bothered about who they are and what on earth they've been doing with their life? What if someone does the same with my life?

At night, this road tells a different story, with all the night creatures swarming out and making merry. Drunkards and prostitutes, rowdies and the homeless, police and their victims--it's a different world. A group of drunken teenagers were caught once by a policeman, who grabbed one of them while the others escaped. He thrashed the young boy mercilessly and mounted him on his bike, deaf to all his pleas and cries. That was a year ago. Where is that boy now? What has happened to his life in the past one year?

I tell my team lead that I want a break. '...five days,' I tell him, after an exhausting project. 'Difficult,' he blabbers. 'Our project lead has denied leaves for all team members.' 'Where's he, haven't seen him this week,' I ask and he says, 'He's on a leave, has gone to his native'.
I suppress my urge to spit on his smirking face. I have severe antisocial thoughts that evening--something like blowing up this whole building.

Suddenly Life has acquired a break-neck speed. Look back on the past few months if you don't believe me. Many equations have severely reversed in my life, just this year itself. And sometimes the pace is too much to cope up with, to withstand and bear. I told my Mom that I'll be shifting away from here, to another place where I'll be working henceforth and she was terribly upset. I had another thousand things to tell but didn't. I should've left the nest long back so that my parents wouldn't have got used to my continuous presence. Maybe it should be mandatory--that once you reach adulthood, you build your own nest, far away. Healthy. So that when you decide, you have nobody to be answerable to. It's your life and you take a decision, to drown or to stay afloat.
I'll do the same with my son. Kick him out once he grows up so that he doesn't stay crippled. So that he learns to fly on his own.

Taliban chief Mehsud is dead. That'll give enough fodder for our newsmedia for a couple of days. And now, there's the swine flu scare in India.'One third of the world's population will be affected in 2 years,' says a collegue, quoting WHO. Of course, there'll be new tidings in the next 2 years. We're also discussing and contemplating the flowering of a new consciousness, in the next two years. By 2012!

I wake up early one morning, on an eclipse day, and sit through meditations for an hour. Then sleep. Then wake up with this immense freshness--of being flushed and wiped clean of all blemish. Like a flower.

'Will there be a pay hike?' We've stopped asking this now. A few numbers on my bank account will not decide my happiness. More numbers. Lesser numbers. No numbers. Life depends on these numbers. Sick of such existence, such calculations, such a life. Wanting a new life. Call me an escapist. Like Mccandles of 'Into the wild'.

After a turmoil, I decide vehemently. That I'm much, much beyond any relationships. I'm not my roles. Father, husband, son, disciple, friend, citizen, wage-slave...what else? Nobody decides my happiness, nothing will shape my life henceforth. Then? To simply ask, 'What do I want?' and once the straight answer arrives, to put it into practice. Live simple. Without being dishonest to your self. Will I do it? Can I?

Tejas is fast asleep. The arguement has ended down below on the road and the lady speeds off on her bike. The young man walks in the opposite direction, truimphantly. Slowly, a few more stars come out of the clouds and smile nervously.

The future has arrived....

2009-07-21T23:26:00.002+05:30

We always weigh the future based on our present circumstances. So most of the time, the future looks improbable and unreachable. Only in retrospect do you know that you were wrong long back when you looked this far.

In my initial days here, in one of the team meetings my team leader said, 'One day you'll be leading teams, and you'll understand the team dynamics better then....' and whatever he said further failed to get registered. I couldn't imagine myself leading a software testing team, being a
complete novice at that time and totally bewildered in the new equations I was getting exposed to. But now, I'm comfortably leading people in projects, alloting assignments and monitoring progress, defending my juniors in team meetings etc. This was totally unimaginable to my younger self way back then. Reflecting on this, I wonder at all those things that I now consider to be impossible in the future and whether they really are impossible or is it just my lack of faith in myself that makes me think so.

You could take this arguement further to any area in your life and find out that it's true, most of the time. I'd have laughed it off if someone had envisioned my current life-scenario, say 10 years back--about my job, or marriage or fatherhood. And in a similar vein, I'll probably find it amusing if someone takes a look at my future self, five years ahead and tells me that, this is where you'll be and this is how you'll behave then. But life has an amazing knack of throwing up surprises and its only when you take notice that you'll recognise the miraculous changes that happen over a period of time.

This only affirms that nothing is impossible. Anything can happen. One can climb any peak or slip to any depths however strongly one denies either possibility, right now. And sometimes the future arrives too soon, sometimes within a blink of an eye.

We're standing at one such crossroad, right now, where our lives will take a fantastic turn and never be the same ever again. I had always thought that this change would happen slowly, over a few years where we'd transit gracefully, without disturbing anything or anyone. But No. Suddenly an opportunity has opened up. The door which was at the far end of the long road has suddenly appeared right here, right now. We're ready to swing it open and walk in.

And there are many with us, this time. We aren't alone. And we're more excited than apprehensive. There will be new beginnings and a new life after this.

More on this soon.

Tell me...

2009-07-05T01:26:00.002+05:30

'Hi, moon' shouts tejas, waving up at the sky, at the golden plate behind the rushing clouds. 'Pappa, why does he run so fast?'

'Because his mom's calling him home. The milk's getting cold...'

Nowadays, we lookup at the sky more often than not, thanks to my son's celestial friends. I'll bring him out on the terrace for a late-night walk, and inspite of the city lights, at times there are a million sparkles up there, on cloudless nights. A few moments of gazing up at the spectacle and you can't stop wondering at the enormity of creation, at the immense endless void out there...and the relative insignificance of our individual chotu worlds. Awe-stuck at times!

We used to sleep on this terrace, long back, on summer nights. My imagination would soar at the sights of the clouds, stars, moon, the endless space. The puranic characters would emerge from some hidden corners and I'd imagine sage narada walking down on those fluffy clouds, singing devotions to his Lord, looking down on this world. Demons and devas would clash with one another, their weapons illuminating the dark night. I wished and prayed fervently for all of that to be true, and not just the result of fertile imagination of some long dead poets and bards. I wanted the gods, heaven, hell, apsaras, multiple worlds, everything to be very real--as real as my homework, bullying teachers and playground friends. I wanted re-incarnation to be a fact, just as Gravity was, thermodynamics was, calculus was. Maybe I was born somewhere in another part of this country, in my previous life and lived a different life. Done great things there, died a warriors death and went to the other worlds. There must be more to this world than this stupid everyday life, isn't it? Is there no mystery, nothing unknown? Why are billions of stars and galaxies hanging up there? Just to give us a good view on cloudless nights? If the gods and other heavens exist, why in all earth can't we see them? If there is a God, where is He?

It doesn't take much for the imagination to be pushed to some unknown corners of our minds. There are a million sundry things to keep one busy and occupied, so those skyward thoughts from summer nights faded slowly and were replaced with exam score cards, cricket match statistics and movie stars. God took an ardous journey from being a friend, to an agony aunt, to a criminal responsible for all of my worries, to just a stupid non-existent concept and finally invisible. Forgotten.

Of course He's made a royal comeback. And this time, not just as a puranic character. Slowly, very slowly, He has penetrated my life, in inumerable ways. Without a bit of a fanfare. As Hope. As mystery. As awe at life. As Silence and Wisdom. And in one beautiful moment, when I asked where He was, as a hint of a tremendous expansion.

And He still has a long way to go. I know the destination, where He becomes me. There, I'll know Him by direct experience, as I know anger, as I know lust, as I know fear. I will taste Him and then the mystery ends. Or maybe not. It could be the beginning of something else.

I'm on this journey. What's yours? Where are you headed?

Couldn't resist this...

2009-05-26T15:02:00.003+05:30

I wake up at 4.45, and collapse, hoping to stretch and wait until the alarm rings at 5. And drift and drift until I end up here...

She's there, in that classroom, with all of us. The same hesitation, uneasiness and blushing when she's around, and once everyone leaves, she walks up to me and sits by my side. And slowly, very slowly, we get into a conversation and she says that she always wanted to speak to me, wanted me to speak to her but...

And opens an old notebook in which she'd scribbled something ages ago and it reads 'I love him and will love only him, forever...'

And mumbles, 'I said that I'll wait for you and my parents warned me that one day I would come, but would have setup house elsewhere by that time so there's no point in waiting. But I held on and here you are!' She looks happy and pleased.

'I have something shocking to say,' I tell her, with a pounding heart. My wife and son are in my mind and I try my best to find words, words that don't hurt but will gently make one aware. 'You don't know how to speak,' I was told recently and I'd agreed. Words are just gutted out and not placed in tact. I'm a terrible conversationist.

'Don't,' she stops me with a smile. And suddenly her expression changes, as if she senses what I'm about to blurt out. The smile is still there but I know that everything has changed inside, that something valuable has collapsed within her.

This is the first time I've seen her in my dreams and I feel this isn't just a dream. Maybe this is not like some of those vivid dreams which are astral experiences. But this confirms something, settles something, reconciles something that was in waiting. Something unfinished seems to have found its logical end. Like keeping down a burden that had been on ones heart from ages.

Maybe not. It could be a suppressed desire rearing its head in dream form. Too many movies watched and a done-to-death plot finding expression with real people!!

Or maybe my hunch is right. It could be a message from across a multitude of individual consciousness. Tying up two loose ends at a different level and letting it be known here.

Hibernating...

2009-04-29T12:10:00.001+05:30

... Like a polar bear which snuggles inside the earth to escape the winter.

Or maybe, more like going into a cocoon hoping to come out transformed.

Or just to see if I can let go...let go of this space, which has been so much a part of my life for the past 4 years.

Sorting things out. Planning new things. Working. Waiting.

Bye for now.

On a Tea-walk

2009-04-23T01:50:00.004+05:30

You call this a Tea-walk because you take a walk with a cup of tea in hand and, in between conversations, or reflections(if you're walking alone), you sip from the cup. And continue to walk or talk or reflect.

We started this nearly 4 years ago, in my initial days in this company. A colleague, who was also a friend beyond the office cublice would accompany me and we'd stroll atleast twice in a day(sometimes thrice). A 200 meter road stretches beside a park near my office, lined by tall trees with thick foliage on one side and posh houses on the other. To walk this silent stretch on a hot day was a really pleasant experience, amidst all the stress and boredom of the routine work. We'd order two half-cups of tea in a bakery at one end of the road, and begin to amble under the shade, sipping slowly from the cups, talking leisurely. A milk booth stood at the other end of the road, and by the time we reached that spot, the cups would be empty. Then we'd order spiced butter-milk packets and, sipping the throat churning drink, return to the cubicle. And wait for another walk in the late afternoon hours. Just refreshing.

What was really interesting about his 1/2 hour spell was the conversation. Anything under the sun would come up for discussion. Of course there was gossip, bitching, small talk, sometimes silences. And good exchanges about topics close to our hearts--meditations, spirituality, Work at Manasa, escape from the cubicle life, movies, music, books....everything punctuated by hot sips from the cup.

The colourful sights and mild sounds of the surroundings would add to the magic of this ambience. Birds would chirp in the branches high above. Sometimes a mild drizzle would break out and the earth would yeild its thirst quenching odours. Evening rays breaking through the wet leaves. Children would play on the see-saw or run around in the park. Brisk walkers and exercising elders would walk past in the evenings. A few autorickshaws would be parked by the roadside and the drivers would be fast asleep inside-- probably after working at night and having nowhere to go in a new city, sleeping the whole day in their vehicles. Young couples would shed their hesitation and melt in one another's arms on the park benches, unmindful of the elderly lady walking past. 'Then, you know, you always get your best ideas in the shower....' 'Mmm.... Must be something. But I take all major decisions of the day in the loo...'

Of course, the season changes. But the 200 mt stretch stays. So do all those tall trees. Also the boredom, frustration and bewilderment at work. I come back to the same bakery and pick up half a cup. And amble the lonely road, reflecting, also calming my thoughts. The quietitude of this place belongs to another world. Stop worrying. Don't think about life rushing past before you can blink. Don't think about the dying dreams. Listen to the rustle of the young leaves. Listen. Stay Awake.

Thirty thoughts...

2009-04-10T17:09:00.003+05:30

The deal is a simple one. Sit back and jot down thirty thougths in thirty minutes. Blog it. I saw it here and here and I thought, I'd give a try too. I could make only 26 entries in 30 minutes, but went ahead to complete the list, in another 5 minutes. So here they go.

1.Air everywhere, outside-natural, here-from the fan. The hot air outside and the leaves smile. Not here.

2. It's okay to be blank. Not have answers. Being silent. Empty.

3. What if there was no memory? How would life be different then? Do animals/plants have memory?

4. Can we live without depending on the crutches of technology? How will life change if everything comes apart, as is being predicted? A simple life, like the one I know from my childhood days in my native village. Is it possible for everyone?

5. Friendship is like oxygen--you hardly notice it but know the value only when it's absent.

6. Yeah, it's not the people in your life but how you relate to people, that determines your happiness.

7. A couple of birds chirp in the hot afternoon breeze. Hot, afternoon breeze is supposed to be melancholic for me, but why do I expect the same for those birds?

8. Maybe we're all escapists, hoping for everything to crash down because it's all so overwhelming, and want things to remain simple. Maybe I've that attitude and that makes me think that all are similar.

9. At some point, you feel, you made a big mistake in choosing to walk down the road. No matter which road you choose! Isn't it?

10. Read about the phony culture of Dubai, where lakhs slave away in pathetic conditions to keep up the glitter and glamour! Isn't it the case everywhere? Darkness underneath the glittering peak.

11. When I get angry, where does the energy arise from? From which dark corner of my heart? How does it blind me, make me so venemous, so stupid?

12. What if time stops? What if we started living in the Now, this moment onwards? And threw away all watches, clocks....? Will that solve everything?

13. I dreamt that I was the second husband and was feeling friendly, accomodating and sorry for the first one. Such expansion in the dreamland but not here, in reality. Jealousy, hatred, possesiveness rule here and if you don't get angry, you're a loser. Being full of shit is normal here. Cool.

14. There's such joy and fun in watching my son shout in anger--his anger is so full of grace, innocence and pure power.

15. Details are always overwhelming but you can't wish them away. As long as you're alive, you've to deal with them.

16. I wanted to cut three coconut branches. Dad says, 'I look after the tree like my child , how can you cut those branches?' I reason, argue, go ahead and cut it, all along knowing very well that he's right.

17. Why do I want to change this world into something better, something peaceful, something devoid of violence? Is it right? Who gives me the right to do so? Am I different from the advancing talibani hoardes who want to change the world into their version of heaven? Who gives them the right?

18. Death is so close to me and I don't want to turn around and say hello. It's the closest but I shudder to even think of it.

19. Then this flashed many times. You continue to exist, because your awareness isn't lost after death. Maybe you'll be more expanded until you incarnate again but no, even death cannot kill your awareness.

20. Three days of darkness and light, when our earth stops and reverses its rotation. Will that happen? Are we in the middle of an intense upheaval that's going to change things in unimaginable ways?

21. Relations are myths. I haven't met many of my relatives in ages and hardly think of them. Their non-presence makes no difference to my life. Out of sight--out of mind.

22. A bird had drowned in a small pool and died. Elder sister and I dug a small grave and buried it. I stroked its belly before putting it away. That touch I still remember after so many years.

23. Millions of stars and heavenly bodies up there. Such arrogance in saying that life exists only on this small speck called earth in all of the Universe. Life, as we define it.

24. Parellel universes, parellel lives, expanded consciousness, telepathy-teleporting--what if we evolve in this direction, from the next step onwards?

25. A cricket match on tv. Brings back memories of that cricket match that I watched, long back, at the darkest hour. The batsman is the same. As if he's a friend who was with me then and is with me even now.

26. Thirsty earth. Like all creation, I too am thirsty. For something that ends this thirst forever.

27. Living on this globe, there's a roundedness to life. You end where you begin, you come back to the same place, the same people, the same situation but with more awareness, more understanding. There's no straight path, only a circle.

28. I have similar questions about lust, as I have about Anger. And of course, about love, about laughter, about tears and sadness.

29. What If we could sit back, at a small height, and look at life in one big expanse, from birth to death and maybe beyond? Why are we so close, so involved that it blinds us to larger realities?

30. What you think is actually real. All your thoughts, emotions and drama exist, at a different level. It was amusing when He told me this, long ago, but now I shudder at that possiblity.

Give it a try and see if it loosens something inside you, brings out something unexpected, something alarming and funny. If nothing, it's a good way to break out of a false belief(at times) that you have nothing significant to say.

Blues....

2009-04-08T15:58:00.003+05:30

Blogging blues strike again but in good company this time. I'm tired and depressed for no apparent reason--on all fronts. I'd love to say it's because of the hot weather, or maybe because of the general sense of gloom and hardships the world over, and I'm receiving a part of that mass karma. Or maybe, I'm feeling down and out for a silly reason, and am attracting similar vibes and feeling more depressed, attract stonger blues and on and on in a downward spiral. Or maybe I'm plain stupid. Whatever the reason, I feel stuck in each and every field. My meditation practices have stagnated and I feel, I have no energy to pull myself into a state of silence. Job sucks. My boss is an awesome asshole but I remember this advice and feel depressed--his assholeness isn't my problem, I only need to get the hell outta here, find something better, something that doesn't kill my soul. I began a few ventures and they fizzled out pretty soon. One blunder happened but the worse part was my inaction, my non-acknowledgment of it, my lack of seriousness. I go on to say something, blurt out something dumb and soon there are sullen faces around.

I know it's temporary and this too shall pass. And it isn't a good practice to spread gloom in a world which is already fucked up and is in desperate need of something fresh, something cheerful, something inspiring. And there's no point in massaging that self-pity gland in your brains and enjoy a bout of sado-masochistic pleasure.

But if blogging is something about jotting down your day-to-day experiences, observations, insights and stupidity and sharing it with others--not just giving a hunky-dory picture of reality, then this is my reality for today. Let it go into the records.

Pure blogging

2009-03-29T01:50:00.003+05:30

Of course, the sky is flooded with thick clouds, threatening to open up any moment. This is a strange summer--it started earlier than expected this year, and we've already had two spells of short rains amidst thirsty dry days. Now with a cool breeze, there's the scent of a soothing downpour in the air.

It's difficult to remain hidden online and I'm realizing this slowly. Nearly four years later, my people discover that I have a blog. Younger sister stumbled upon my blog accidentally, read a few posts and announced to my parents, and of course praised. She was moved to tears by this post, probably because she was a part of that memory and now my parents seem interested. Now I have to watch out what I post, and ponder once before scribbling anything. Amazing how I kept aside this possiblity when I would post carefree, not bothering what anyone who knows me would think about what I write here.

Upheavals are occuring at an alarming pace.One moment I'm totally gung-ho, hopeful and optimistic about various things happening in my life. In no time, a wave of dejection and hopelessness clouds my awareness. I just resign to what's happening and carry on the motions. Life appears meaningless until cheer arrives unexpectedly.

New possiblities are opening up at work. I'm now a product leader, responsible for the quality assurance of one entire product, with guys working under me--and it's pure pain. Partly because I'm desperately looking to fly away from the monotony here and wouldn't like to be burdened with anything for now. And this is responsibility without rewards, a sort of thankless job. If things go wrong( as usual, they will), you're accountable, but if everything's smooth, so what? This is both a learning opportunity and a stressful occasion, so I don't know whether to celebrate or sulk.

Watched Rang de basanti, once again. Remembered what I'd written here, long back, when I first watched the movie. And you have the spectacle of the general elections, shameless politicians not even masking their lust for power, urban saviours who think that our country will be saved with everyone casting their precious vote and to top it all, the likes of Varun gandhi and a clueless media following every move of this baffoon.

This isn't depressing anymore. Because this is the last dance for all these scoundrels.

Suddenly I remember that I am a writer. A writer of short stories, as I used to answer that funny question, 'What do you do?', just a few years back. And how could I forget this? So, with this rememberance, there's a flurry of writing activities awakened. Told archana not to look into one particular notebook, because it's personal and contains something related to my creative endeavours ('Huh!' was the reply). Digging into my old diaries and writing manuals. Pursuing writing exercises. Stream of consciousness scribbles. Day dreams of published short stories and novels. Madness. With a method.

My son is in that magical phase where he finds everything, literally everything around him lively and filled with wonder. He looks up at the moon and says a word or two. Says hello to the sunlight. Falls down, gets hurt and stamps the road with anger. Saibaba isn't a long dead saint but a loving friend, who gets to share his secrets and triumphs. He holds up a glass of his favourite fruit juice to Lord Ganesha and other Gods in the photos. The toy car should listen to him when he tells it to move back. And maybe it isn't just ignorance or playfulness; maybe every child connects to the life force throbbing in every particle in creation. Only a child can see that nothing is lifeless. Expandedness is natural in innocence.

Soon he will grow up and lose this capability. We will train him to look at life through small apertures and crush everything else that doesn't fit in with that limited vision. Imagination recedes, magic fades and he will become yet another human being--efficient, wordly, mature but devoid of wonder and mystery. Of course until he wakes up once again to the mystical...

We step into Ugadhi, the Hindu Newyear day. Ugadhi means the beginning of a new Yuga--a new phase in time. You open the doors and windows and let in fresh air, allow sunshine to enter your life. Cleanse your soul of old cobwebs and dirt, awaken to new possibilities, set forth in new directions, embark on new voyages...And know in your guts that the universe is with you, all the time, like a mother.

As I begin a few voyages on this auspicious day, I wish everyone on our beautiful earth a new awakening. Let this new year bring you wonderful gifts, make you stronger against the trials of life and awaken you to your own hidden divinity.

Crossroads...

2009-03-21T02:20:00.001+05:30

The final scene of the movie, Cast away is difficult to forget. Tom hanks plays the courier man who's marooned on an uninhabited island after his plane crashes into the pacific ocean. He lives in that piece of land for nearly 4 years, without human contact--the memory of his wife is the only thing that keeps him alive, gives him the will to finally brave the brutal waves and find his way back. By the time he returns to civilization, life has moved on. His wife, thinking him to be dead, has remarried. He resumes his job, delivers a packet to a house which is in the middle of nowhere, and on his way back, hits a crossroad. The long roads stretch on all sides and he stands there, looking here and there, pondering... and that geographical place becomes a stunning metaphor for his life at that moment. Where do you go from here? Where have you come from? Why are you here? What's your destiny?

A moment of tremendous pathos. And also a moment of sudden illumination.

Why does illumination arrive only after loss, sadness, emptiness? Why not in the midst of joy, abundance, peace? Why should our journey always be pathos-enlightenment-bliss and not bliss-enlightenment-bliss?

Why this fixation with the positives? What is it in us that makes us scared of losing, of emptiness, of sorrow? If there is something that exists beyond these positives and not so positives, what is that?

Ponder this...

2009-03-14T12:49:00.003+05:30

'Bangoon Ophaen', shouts tejas over the phone.

'What's that?' I ask her.

'It means, I'll come to Bangalore on an aeroplane.'

* * *

I have an early morning flight to delhi tomorrow morning and a connecting flight to Jammu. Our new airport is outside the city, almost 50 kms away, which means that the taxi fares are exorbitant and people rely on public transport. Since there are no buses so early in the morning, I have to bargain with the taxi guys, so I call them up.

'750 rs,'says the guy over the phone.

'It's too much,' and the calculations begin. 'Why not go there the previous night, catching the last bus, wait in the airport and catch the early morning flight?'

'Or, why not stay at Anand's place in Taponagara, get up early and ask him to drop you to the airport. It's nearer I guess.'

'The bus service starts at 4 a.m., so why not take that bus, just take a chance, if that's okay.....'

It's hard to shell out 750 bucks on a one hour taxi ride but then I begin to wonder what's the difficulty in that. Why? Why should I start thinking about putting myself into inconvenience in order to save a few hundred rupees? I understand it if money is scarce but when that isn't the case, why do these numbers cause a flutter?

We have a couple of new guys in our team, both less experienced than I, who take up less work, lesser pressure, but take home a slightly bigger pay packet. A pang shot through me when I came to know their take-home salary. And now there's a new guy with 6 years experience whose pay packet has gone through the roof and it's a topic of discussion at times.

'You've stayed in the same place for too long,' observes Nazeer. 'Change companies, job-hop and the salary will be good.'

Cool. Numbers again. I don't deny the practical aspect of it but still, these numbers sort of dictate the course of our lives, without our conscious knowledge. They decide the quality of my work, the people I work with and the environment I work in, 9 hours a day, for years together. And I hardly notice that.

It begins to disturb when the same numbers start interfering into the relationship equations. My maternal uncle who owned a flourishing business in bangalore two decades ago, fell into bad times and had to pack everything and retire to his native village. He descended into poverty, partly by his own fault and is still struggling with an uncertain job and salary. His standing in the community and relatives circle closely followed his economic status. The same people who surrounded him, coveted his attention and paid fearful respects in his good times began ignoring him, ridiculing and even insulting him at times. And without anyone explaining the situation very clearly, it came to be accepted as a natural behaviour--you respect someone who's financially sound and don't give a shit if he's penniless. The numbers in your bank account decide your social status, decide if you're worthy of respect and affection. Absolutely no exaggeration.

Is this how the world works? Is this how society has been designed, how life operates in the modern world, everywhere? Maybe yes. Is it healthy? I have my doubts.

Dave pollard's futuristic blogpost about living a money-free, hassle-free life, full of harmony, abundance and joy makes one wonder if that's how life will gradually turn out in the coming days and years. And Ranprieur is one guy who's living such a life, right now, 'in the gift economy' as he says. His entire blog is, apart from many other things, a meditation on the 'money-economy we currently live in vs the gift economy we need to move into'.

This is a huge subject and these are my initial thoughts.

* * *

A guy who's two rungs up the ladder calls a meeting and says,'Our office time is between 9 and 6.30, with a half hour lunch. Many of us are not following it strictly, so the CEO has sent a memo. Starting today, this duration will be strictly followed. You have to be here before 9 and leave by 6.30...'

'These are signs of things to come,' says Nazeer. 'Just watch, how many terminations will happen on this account.'

Two days later, there's another meeting. 'How many in your team are arriving after 9? If anyone comes late, tell them to take half a day leave...'

The next day almost everyone's in by 9 except the rulemaker, who arrives at 9.30. The look on his face---priceless!

When you grow up....

2009-03-07T13:13:00.004+05:30

...what do you want to become?'

Mom wanted a doctor in the family, so I was expected to say, 'doctor'. Or, as was fashionable in those days, 'engineer,' though I never knew what the hell those terms meant. Then there was this astrologer, a friend of Dad's who'd proclaimed,'professor,'--another fancy term. So the answers would revolve around these three things although I'd whisper under my breath,'I don't want to grow up, you morons.'

These must be really stubborn questions, asked around the world of every child by well-meaning(?) parents, relatives, even strangers. A guy from Poland had come to attend our meditation classes and when I was taking him around, he caught hold of a young boy of 10 and asked him the same darn question. 'Astro-physicist!!' pat came the reply. 'Not bad. Not bad,' amidst gusts of laughter. The polish guy was a seeker, who'd come to India in search of the occult and the first thing he'd asked me was, 'Is your Guru enlightened?' What I'd have loved to ask him, me a doc-engineered-professor, was 'What was your answer to the well-meaning question, in your childhood? And have you become that?' Seeker? Not by a long stretch. What are the answers given by children in different cultures? Writer? Actor? Scientist? Businessman? Politician? Are there any cultures which don't ask these questions and don't expect any answers from their youngsters? Maybe someone should conduct a survey and find out what percentage of these predictions/aspirations have come true?

My niece is a little over 15 and her answer is 'opthalmologist'. 'What's that?' I ask and she says,'eye-specialist'. 'Why? Do you like being an eye specialist?' and she has a confident,'Yes'. Until recently the answer was 'advocate,' because her grandpa is also one.

'What about your son?' and I gnarl. 'Relax,' she soothes. 'Let them have their say'. My son has an ear for music and rythme, 'so he'll become a musician.' He whacks the ball real hard...'cricketer!' He loves to dance, 'so....movie star? Yeah, why not?'

This obsession with the material success-recognition-fame and a subtle grooming we're subjected to from a very young age, is quite amusing. And disturbing also. It's as if you're bound to fall behind and lose out in the race of life if the goal is not set at a very young age. There are off-beat answers too! 'Artist,' says my friend of his three year old. 'Parents have to watch the child and find out at a young age what her interests are. And then provide opportunities ...'

No qualms about that. A quote I still remember 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans'. And another one: 'A seeker gets only what he seeks. His choices are limited. An explorer finds much more because he has no fixed agenda.' More seekers of pretty ordinary things, many of us seem to have become. Fearful of exploring. Scared of moving out without any agenda. Without a compass. And deciding the compass beforehand for our kids too.

Scared of living. Enough if we can just make a living.

* * *

I thought I could do a lot only if I had all the time in the world. Wrong. Throw me a large chunck of time and I'll laze. The more restricted my time is, the more productively I seem to use it.

One precious moment

2009-02-28T16:46:00.003+05:30

So we'd gathered, more than a thousand, on a pleasant thursday
evening. There were many forgotten faces in the gathering--friends adrift, longlost acquaintances, known faces who'd vanished into the unknown to reappear suddenly. It was pure excitement, notwithstanding some of us not fully grasping the importance of the divine moment. At 7.30 p.m. we prayed as one voice out of thousands, for the light to descend and spread. In seven minutes of tremendous silence, a thousand hearts channeled light and love, along with innumerable friends who'd gathered in different cities and towns across the world. Before stepping back to the noise and hustle of the outside world, we prayed Light to bring peace, love and wisdom to every human being on this beautiful planet. We prayed Light to shine over all darkness within and without, to lead us from the depths of despair to the glory of a new day. We prayed Light to take us into the New Age awaiting at the horizons, to make us light, to make us divine.

Did you participate in this groundbreaking yet silent moment with your wish, your intent or your practice? You can do it this very moment and anytime this moment onwards. Welcome to the dawn of the Light Age!!!

* * *

Inspiration

"...One warm, sunny afternoon on the Oregon Coast, when everyone was laughing and talking and telling their truest stories, I had a wave of sadness come over me and I knew I needed to go sit on the sand for a little time away from my dear friends. Walking towards that massive sea and endless blue sky, I had never felt more solitary in some ways or more alone in this particular part of my journey. I could feel that familiar rush of despair coming to me when the beauty of the place captured my heart. I sat down right there and let the water speak to me, and that blue sky, and I realized I could never be alone really, as long as I was walking on this earth. That the earth herself was holding me, making sure I had a place to land with every step I take...."

Why does this little passage move you to tears? How do these words resonate within you, touching a wellspring of love and connectedness deep inside, making you feel that this experience is yours too? What's the magic behind these words, these emotions?

Jen lemen's blog is pure delight, fun and heartwarming. She says, she's helplessly in love with the idea that stories can change you and me forever. She's so right.

Elizabeth Gilbert is the author of the bestseller, 'Eat, pray, Love', which I haven't read yet, but there's another book of hers 'The last american man', about Eustace convay who's living a wholesome life close to nature, away from the artificiality and insanity of our modern society. I munched, gobbled and drank this book thirstily in 2 days flat and the delicous taste still lingers in memory.

By pure chance I landed up here where she speaks about creativity, genius and her own writing process. Just refreshing.

Do you watch Ted talks? I urge you to watch it. Amazing talks by amazing people.

* * *

You stop, just like that, for one brief moment and you know that this question is staring down at you. Why? Why are you here and what are you supposed to be doing with your life? What's driving you? What do you want out of this life? What...is...your...purpose?

Emptiness.... I keep aside all answers that come up immediately and wait. Wait for the answer that's lingering somewhere down there, struggling to come up, burdened under all that conditioning and ready-made theories about life.

I wait for that answer which when takes birth into your awareness, illuminates and sparkles with tremendous brilliance. And has this ring of 'aha! yes. This is it.'...I wait.

Light begins.......

2009-02-22T20:13:00.005+05:30

Naveen is my neighbour and a longtime friend. He's the unlikeliest person to be interested in spirituality but he comes up and asks, 'What's the name of your spiritual organization? Read on the internet that you people are organizing a 7 minute meditation, this week. I'd like to attend..'

I tell him that it's not meditation, that it's light channelling which anyone can practice from anywhere. You meditate for your own growth. And you channel light for yourself and also for others.

* * *

On thursday, 26th February 2009, my spiritual organization, Manasa Foundation has arranged a Mega event to launch the Light Channels World Movement. At 7.30 p.m. IST, thousands will gather at Koramangala Indoor stadium in Bangalore and channel light for 7 minutes. And many more from around the world will join us at that time, channelling light from their places. This movement which began last year, will be publicised as widely as possible on that day.

I invite everyone of you for this event. If you're in Bangalore and can be present at the venue, nothing beats that. And you can join us from your own homes by practising the light channeling technique at 7.30 p.m. IST,(2 p.m. GMT) on 26th February.

I've written earlier about Lightchannelling. This light is not the physical light but exists at a subtler realm--we imagine an ocean of light above us, imagine that it descends and fills up our body and then spreads out into the world. This light carries Peace and Love. Practise this for seven minutes every morning and at night. This simple technique is one of the most powerful in terms of healing, self-growth and worldpeace.

I could quote the works/research of great luminaries in the field of paranormal to justify that there are things beyond our ordinary everyday perception. We're somehow cynical when it comes to spirituality--we ask 'how' and 'why' but stop there and think that it's scientific and rational to reject the paranormal. Kinda cool to say we don't believe. And we never venture, never explore, just speculate. We wait for the experts to tell us that these things are real, as real as the concrete everyday world we know. The spiritual is accessible to everyone of us. One needs to take up a practice and experience directly; like stepping out into the drizzle to connect to Nature, not just reading poems about rainfall. Maybe it's hightime we woke up to the spiritual realities that govern our lives.

* * *

Will this movement and this event catch the notice of the Media? Is it possible for this message to reach far and wide to the masses out there? Do those outside the spiritual circles understand the significance of such a movement and actually believe in it to participate?

Great movements have humble beginnings. Like mighty rivers, they gather strength slowly as more tributaries join forces. While the media and others are busy with all the sensational events and worrying news of the world, there are Masters and divine souls who work silently, gathering tremendous positive forces, laying foundations on which the future generations thrive. They work indirectly from the mystical realms and directly through the will and hearts of people like you and me.

One such soul, a lightworker from Newzealand, Soluntra king will be the chief guest for this event. My guru, Krishnananda will launch the Light Channels World Movement on that day.

If you think this is good, if you feel that we're going to be helped and benefitted by this practice, if you feel that this world needs Light now more than at any other time, I request you to spread this message, in your own way. Tell your friends and your family about this movement. If possible, please carry the above video on your websites/blogs, and write a few words about it.

Most importantly, please join this movement with your actual practice. For seven minutes every day, let us bring down the Light and pray for peace and love on this earth. Let us recieve this light and spread it around, to our homes, our cities and to this world.

Light is God. Light is our hope. Let us channel Light, channel God into our lives. And into this world of ours.

Frozen in Time...

2009-02-16T23:07:00.004+05:30

Once upon a time, in a far-off place, a small boy used to get 10 paise a day as pocket-money. In those days, you'd get 2 peppermints for 10 paise but this boy, who was me, would swallow his temptation and keep aside the precious coin. Over a period of one month, this collection would grow to nearly 3 rupees and then, one friday evening, after the school bell rang, I'd trot to a nearby bakery, with my best friend by my side. We'd order a mango fruit drink(bejois, I think) and hand the coins over the counter. Then I'd take a sip, a very slow sip from the cool bottle, savouring every drop of the delicious drink. Pass the bottle to Harish and he'd take a sip and give it back. The bottle would pass nearly 10 times between us before getting sucked dry. Walk back home, cool all the way down below your throat, thinking about a similar treat the next month.

I'll never forget that taste, and probably may not savour that deliciousness again. And Harish! Where is he now, I wonder. In which part of the world? Our friendship was legendary. When our kannada teacher would narrate the story of Mahabharata and explain the deep friendship between Duryodhana and Karna, she'd mention 'Like vishwanath and harish', so that everyone would understand. And there were others too, hovering around--a close-knit group of friends. Yet, just over 20 years and not a soul around! Many of us have been thrown around and away by the demands of life, by separate priorities and individual callings. A few live close enough but they're far away. I'm too much absorbed in the details of my everyday living to even bother calling them up. Maybe they too have similar or different obligations. Maybe they're too busy to even look back at the past and remember.

Life amazes whenever you try to reflect back on it. How fast priorities change, how quickly we break away from close-knit groups and fritter away, going new places, making new friends, building new bonds. At any given time, you never imagine that this friendship or kinship is only temporary, that in a few years, this person could be out of sight and out of memory. Yet it happens very often. Just six years ago, there were five of us who'd meet every evening on a cricket field. Play cricket, take a walk to the nearby bakery, chat for nearly an hour in the evening, dream about the future---and now my contact is limited to only one of them--that too, maybe because he's my neighbour! We're not stone-hearted either--given half a chance, maybe we'd be too happy to meet up but it never happens, that half a chance never arrives. Life gallops along at break-neck speed, so you better keep up and keep moving!

A metaphor I came across quite sometime back illustrates this temporariness of human relations. It's as if we're driftwoods, moving along the course of a river. The currents bring us close and keep us together for sometime and as the river enters the planes, we slowly move away, towards new driftwoods, separating again, sailing along. And while we were together, the other person would've meant the world for us. We'd entrust them with our most cherished secrets and fears, envision our dreams with them and hope for a future of shared destines. Little did we know what life had in store for everyone. That it would take another quarter of a century before we'd set eyes on each other again.

An sms and a phone call from one such long lost friend prompted a rush of memories, buried deep down--amazingly fresh and not forgotten. 'Let's meet,' he said.'It's been 25 years since we all came to know each other and became friends. I'll organise.' How exciting would it be to meet them all after such a long time! Some have passed away, some are in different parts of the world. Many would've changed beyond recognition. Yet it would be a wonderful experience to meet these souls who were so close to you, spend time with them, listen to their stories and revive all those antique moments. It's like reclaiming a lost part of yourself.

Yet you know very well that you'll return to the galloping life from this meeting, back to the current friendships and acquaintances, so will these old friends return to their lives. Life will suck you back into its demands and pursuits, handing over new relations, promising everlasting bonding and love. It knows well that you'll get too busy in the details to remember this promise. Maybe that's the way things are meant to be. Maybe this temporariness itself adds beauty and depth to these relations.

Will I meet Harish again? I don't know, but If I do, I'd love to walk with him to the same bakery(which still exists behind our primary school building), order the same mango drink and sip it with him. And remind him of those jingling coins in our pockets as we hopped to this same place, 25 years ago, full of anticipation and excitement. Sentimental? You bet!

That hidden desire...

2009-02-05T23:33:00.002+05:30

'It's raining here,' she says over the phone.'And your son's getting scared. So we're telling him that it's nothing, just that God's pissing....'

I have a hearty laugh imagining his expression over hearing this.

* * *

I turned a complete vegetarian one fine day, 18 years ago, after reading an article in a news magazine. It was sudden. Until then, I had no qualms munching fish, chicken, mutton, prawns and molluscs but what made me give up on everything is still a bit hazy for me. I said, 'No more meat for me, please,' and my parents went,'what's wrong with you?' Then followed lots of admonishes, threats(in a jovial way), cajoles, taunts, but I held fast. Only twice I lost control--once in mumbai when I said, what the hell, and went and had a chicken biriyani. And another time, it was during one of my visits to my village. The aroma of the prawn curry was so tantalizing, so mouth watering, that I kept aside all shame, went to my aunt and said, 'Well...I think, I'll have it...' and everyone roared with laughter and it was the big news of the day.

Later I took up meditations and came to understand the low vibrations of non-vegetarian food that comes in the way of spiritual growth, but by that time, I'd outgrown my desire for it. Sometimes my friends would remind me that the cake I just had was prepared out of bread and Egg and I'd say, 'fine'. Think about it a bit and ponder whether it would be a good idea to give up on cakes or go only for eggless cakes. But it wasn't a bother, though. What's still pricking is the occasional saliva that springs automatically whenever the aroma of an egg omlette wafts through the air. I mean, we used to prepare it at home--two eggs mashed thoroughly, lots of onion, coriander leaves, chillies, soft coconut layers and you pour the mixture into a flat disc shape and roast it to a golden brown colour on low flame, take it out and while it's still hot, fold it between two slices of bread and then....Difficult not to salivate imagining it...

'Eat it once, if you're so crazy,' she admonishes. Yes, no, Yes, no.......

* * *

Valentine's day is nearing, so all the lunatics of our land are getting ready for another round of terrorism. The right-wing groups here have threatened that they'll hunt for couples who're out celebrating on that day, catch hold of them, take them to the registrar's office and forcibly get them married! And the left wing groups have threatened to kick these guys who attempt such intimidation. Meanwhile our venerable government(ruled by the right wing party), which we've elected to govern us, has issued statements saying that no group will be banned, everyone has the right of expression and nobody should take law into one's hand.

It makes one wonder in which era and which country are we living in? Is this India or the taliban controlled afghanistan? And, have we, by any chance slipped out of the 21st century into the dark middle ages?

What horrifies me even more is the utter insensitivity and cluelessness of a few people I know very closely, whom I interact with everyday--who're supporting these right wing lunatics! It's bloody shocking. My colleageaus say that these groups are right, these couples have no business going around and corrupting the culture! When the same groups attacked a pub in Mangalore a few weeks ago and bashed up the partygoers in the name of upholding our sacred culture, we were watching the events on TV. My family members said that those youngsters deserved it for enjoying so much, that it's high time someone told them how to behave. I mean, what the hell, dammit. I was too numb to say anything. Is it just that something's wrong with me, when I say that nobody has any business dictating terms to others? That there's no such thing as culture or tradition and what's happening here is pure goondaism? That you can't bloody impose your beliefs on others, you idiots!

This is ridiculuos. Bloody ridiculous. Hell.

First one

2009-01-26T23:38:00.003+05:30

A foggy morning, and before the dawn sets in I'm out of my bed. It's monday but a holiday as
today's the Indian Republic Day. Thirty minutes, I'm on the mat, meditating. All the while I'm reflecting on how long has it been since I sat for meditation at this Godly hour. That it was 23 years ago on this day that we moved into this new house. That today is the first eclipse of the year and I have a special meditation session to attend. That it has rained badly in Jammu yesterday and the temperature's freezing, hope they've kept my kid properly wrapped up in warm pullovers.

Death is on my mind as I drive through the early morning streets. Two days back at this hour, just a few miles across the city, a drunken car moved down four early morning joggers. The very thought sends a shudder as my grip tightens on the steering wheel. I swerve carefully across every bend, slow down at every cross, suppress my urge to press the pedal once roads become long stretches--I'm careful to the core. Yet, I jump a signal and drive straight into the arms of a waiting policeman.

'Didn't you see the redlight, sir?' he smiles. 'You know what happened two days back?'

Nausea. I want to get out of here as soon as possible.

'The fine will be rs. 400.' He's too polite for a cop.

'I'll pay 200,' I blurt out. Should I have said 100?

'Ok.'

Back in the car. Accelerate. My mind's a battlefield. Right? Wrong? You just added your precious bit to this corrupt system. No, you've to be practical. Cut the shit, you're no hero, you are this system. No, no, it's like this...

Why didn't I think twice before deciding to chuck the fine and circumvent things? Why was I lost for those 3 minutes? Why did I slip into survival mode so fast, throwing out all reasoning? Why was my focus only on saving 200 rs and nothing else? Why wasn't I thinking of light all along....

My body resists but gives in gradually. Sitting unmoved at a place for four hours is not a joke, but you can train yourself. Slowly at first. I manage to meditate for an hour and a half. Thoughts run wild. My first job, four years back. I'd just finished a course and was brushing up on a few things when a friend called up to say,'There's an opening.' I refused.'Give me sometime to prepare,' I said, not admitting to myself a terrible nervousness, a sense of inadequacy. 'Nothing doing,' he said.'Just attend this inteview or you'll regret it. You think it's going to wait for your preparation?' With a fluttering heart, I set out and sailed smoothly into my present job.

Lessons are seldom learnt. I'm still preparing, still equipping to move from here to something better. Stepping into the water, inch by inch, learning how to swim by testing the waters, feeling the cold...Just take the plunge. Nothing waits. You'll always be on the surface. It's as if the same friend is exhorting me. He's here no more.

Not just the job. Everywhere. In every place. At some point, you pack up the never ending preparations and just take a leap of faith. You bloody jump.

'We shall end the session.....' comes the voice. The eclipse has just ended. You're already in 2009. Look ahead, will ya?

Fathers and Sons

2009-01-19T15:28:00.003+05:30

My room is empty again, after nearly three years. Archana and the kid are in Jammu for two months and I'm back to bangalore, back to the routine after spending a week with them. I'd secretly wished for this solitude, waited to be alone here, with my dreams, with my freedom but now....I miss them. I miss my son, I miss his laughter, his kisses, his mischiefs, his tears, his complaints...This attachment is new to me.

***

It's newyear eve and I'm leafing through a book when Dad clears his throat. 'We've brought a
bottle of whiskey,' he hesitates.'Would you like to have some?' I refuse but he insists: 'Just a
small one.' After sometime he goes upstairs, sits with my brother-in-law with the bottle and two glasses and they're on the way to welcome the newyear in high spirits.

What's amazing is the degree of openness that has developed between Dad and me over the past few years. I couldn't have imagined him offering me a drink, say five years ago but things have changed slowly. He's relaxing into a sober background and allowing things to happen, immersing himself into his favourite activity: writing short stories. He has a strong attachment towards my son, and tejas too prefers to spend more time with him whenever Dad's at home. Sometimes dad will be out for the whole day and upon returning at night, he'll walk up two storey's to our room to cuddle our son, just because he couldn't do so in the day.

At home sometimes I fly into a rage when tejas is admonished or glared at for his antics, and soon I'll be lecturing all and sundry about proper child-rearing practices. Dad watches silently, maybe amused, maybe feeling helpless because his role is limited only to offering love to his grandson and nothing more. Then he sighs. 'Our kids grew up so fast, maybe we should've spent more time with them, given them more attention...'

It could be his constant interaction with my son which opened bridges between me and Dad. Or maybe it's so with all parents--with age, you mellow and soften towards your kids, overlooking their drawbacks, understand them more. Or maybe it's the other way; becoming a parent makes one more responsive, understanding and forgiving towards his parents

Your upbringing contributes most towards making you the person you are. But sometimes you defy it, positively. Dad grew up in harsh conditions yet was far more gentle and compassionate than what his upbringing was expected to make of him. Maybe it was his reading, his creative abilities or some inner inspiration that shaped his personality, rather than the humiliations, loneliness and insults he faced growing up in a backward village. If only his Dad had been as responsive and attentive as he was, if he had met someone like my guru at a young age, if this and if that....

Nope. Life is just and fair as it is, beyond our myopic preferances. Dad's and Mom's parents shaped their lives the way my parents shaped mine and helped me become the person I am today. And when I and Archana take decisions for our kid, we're aware that every step we take will contribute hugely towards his future, towards his personality, his character.

That makes it all the more challenging amidst the fun, inspiration and exhilaration of parenthood.

***

I'm reminded of a wonderful poem from one of Tabor's life stories. A tribute to her dad: 'Salt of the earth'. How many times have I read it!

Farewell notes...

2008-12-31T14:44:00.002+05:30

We jump up at every opportunity to teach Tejas a new word; it's mighty fun to listen him gurgle out the word in his baby language. At night before he falls asleep, I take him to the puja corner, address each deity over there and ask them to bless him. So it'll be, 'Goddess saraswathi, give tejas knowledge and wisdom, Swami Vivekananda, give him strength, Hanuman, give him devotion...etc' and Tejas sports a broad grin all along. 'Do namaste', and he folds his palms, closes his eyes, pretends to mutter something and lifts one eye towards me to see if I'm watching. 'Say Jesus Christ', and he mumbles, 'Jeej chaish'.

Mom is aghast. 'Why Jesus Christ?' She doesn't seem to appreciate her hindu grandson utter a christian god's name. I suppress my urge to give an explanation, to correct her. No arguements. No convincing anymore.

***

A project ends and I apply for a 10 day leave, to accompany archana and tejas to Jammu. On the last working day, when I shut down the system, I feel as if a burden has been lifted off me. There's a sudden sense of relief, something I used to strongly feel and enjoy on the last day of school before the summer vacations began. We used to come home and just throw the books everywhere and flop down on the bed. That gesture remains as a reminder of how we hated school from our guts and how relieved we would feel to escape its clutches. And strangely, the workplace seems to have morphed into an advanced school, something I've come to hate and resist strongly although unable to shake off and bound away. You can never be at ease amidst the helplessness and boredom that are typical in a classroom setting, the unqualified authority of the elders and the inescapable chore of studies-homework-exams. And the repetitive drill at work reminds me of the grind of those years. Inspite of the economic freedom and superficial respect this job has given me, I look for and savour every opportunity where I can be far off from anything called Work.

No, I don't like hating this everyday chore, spending the best part of the day in these activities that help me 'make a living'. I would love to involve myself in work that nourishes my spirit, makes me lose sense of time when I'm at it, gives me a keen sense of achievement and satisfaction irrespective of the endresult and is tremendous fun to do however taxing the details might be. And of course, has at least an ounce of positive benefit to anyone but me, beyond the economic calculations.

Either I find such work or lift my current work to that level.

But.... How?

***

An overwhelming need... to be alone. And I realise how difficult it is, how precious those moments of solitude are.

If I'm not in the office, I'll be at home, with my kid, with archana, in front of the TV, with a book in hand. Switch off the tv, keep aside that book and my son swings on my neck, demanding to be taken out for a walk. I rationalize that I'll find my solitude late in the night when everyone's asleep or early in the morning. But my body refuses me this previlege.

Maybe there's a quota of aloneness allotted to every individual for a lifetime, and I've bloody exhausted mine in those long years between graduation and job, where hours and days just passed away in rich solitude.

Or maybe it isn't the case. I'll soon snatch huge chunks of time from the daily grind and sit blissfully alone, staring into a vaccum, pondering, scribbling,....just being.

***

Where does this fear arise from? Why do I get anxious? I try hard to pin it down but in vain. A very relaxed and jovial meeting with friends is underway when suddenly he says,' Okay, what were your good and not so good experiences of 2008?' Each one begins to narrate. Then he tells another person to share his experience. And another.

Suddenly I'm in the grip of an unreasonable panic. I don't want to speak! This is my family, these people are my own and I'd love to interact with them, any given day, on the subjects we all love to discuss. Yet, in a group setting, my throat runs dry and I have a mild shiver. I'm praying that nobody points out to me and says, 'What about you.....?'

This fear of embarassment has tormented me over the past many years. I remember giving no shit and rattling my guts out, not so long ago. When and where did my nerves run cold, I know not. I've shied away innumerable times from confronting this fear, from voicing my opinion in a group. Many of my decisions have been influenced by this fear. Many twists of life have been shaped because of this anxiety. This remains a dark shadow, something I'm unable to and unwilling to shrug off.

Maybe it hasn't grown huge enough where I have no choice but to root it out. And it isn't mild enough to allow me to cope with it. It remains in that delicate tense equilibirium where you can neither spit it nor gulp it. A perfect thorn up your nail.

***

'How fast the year ended,' I tell her, as if it's a routine to utter this by every december end. But it's true. I remember finishing a translation and sending out a mail late in the night, just last december and it appears as if it was done yesterday. And a whole year has passed after that... as if an entire river flowed under the bridge by the time you finished that sweet little conversation.

This year will be remembered most for the worldwide economic recession among many other things. Although pundits may point out that the recession had already started out years ago, this was the year it hit many in the face. Our jobs are still secure uptill now, but the future is uncertain, the present a bit shaky. Personally I realised that this cubicle will not be my permanent money spinning corner forever, that there are skills to be learnt, risks to be taken and ventures to be answered very soon--before the rug is pulled from under the feet. And it isn't scary afterall, it can also be a thrilling adventure, if you choose it.

When I look back at the year, I realize that many dreams still remain dreams, many resolutions are still in cold storage. And I remember Dave pollard's advice,--that unless something becomes a 'must', it ain't gonna materialize. That drive, that hunger, that urgency is required to make something happen---whether it's experiencing Light/God, moving on to a new job, penning that short story or just waking up early for a round of exercises.

Many dark emotions came to the forefront where I could see and recognize them for what they were. I realized that I'm not the saint I thought I was. And also I found out that being a no-saint wasn't such a bad thing afterall, as long as you know where you stand. There was a broadening of horizons, an increase in awareness however slight. I watched my son grow up from a sweet little baby to a sweet little monster. Joy of fatherhood, agreements-disagreements in family, boredom-disappointment at work, small personal victories, loss of discipline, a feeling of alienation-spiritually, new knowledge about existence, lost friends, gained insight....2008 will be a special year which I'll look back at from the future...

My biggest inspiration of the year was Obama's victory. When the light channels movement was started sometime back, we were told that this collective effort would bring forth a world leader. Yes it has. We rightly think that only thugs and scoundrels are fit for politics, that nothing worthwhile will transpire out of that bunch of humanity. The way Indian leaders behaved after the Mumbai carnage is ample proof for this. Perhaps Obama is one of the few leaders to kindle the hope that maybe this isn't always the case, that sane, sensible people can aspire to lead from the front, that even in hopeless times you can make things happen at every level by beginning with the attitude, 'Yes, we can.' After Gandhi, if there's a leader whom people all over the world looked up to with hope, it is Obama.

How different or similar will our lives be by this time next year? How would the world have changed by another 12 months? Will there be drastic changes--either desirable or miserable? After Nov 2009, when the effects of the proximity to the Photon belt start taking effect, how seriously will our lives be touched? It remains to be seen.

As I sit typing out these words, wishing to be amongst friends in Taponagara who're channelling light to our world, I wish everyone a very happy new year. And pray that we all find light and align with the light in the days ahead......

Raining blood

2008-11-28T17:20:00.003+05:30

It's raining incessantly. The gloomy weather and biting cold is matched only by the horrible reality Mumbai is facing right now, played out in our living rooms through the television sets. The greatest instinct a human being has is that of survival. As you want to survive under any circumstance, you also shrink back from snuffing the life out of another being. So it makes one wonder what drives ordinary human beings to defy this instinct and run around, firing indiscriminately and killing unknown people? Who are these animals and what on earth has our life come to in today's world? Hell!

Amit verma who was near the site of the terror attack blogs about the events as he witnessed it. The worrying fact is that, after nearly 2 days since these attacks began, nearly a dozen heavily armed madmen are still roaming free in the city. How could've they carried out this operation
without the support of some locals? The media, though doing a commendable job of reporting the situation braving great odds, still continues to warm itself in the fire that burns mumbai ( 'those pictures you see are exclusive to 'times now', 'the terrorists spoke over the phone exclusively to 'Indiatv'...scum ). Politicians continue their same old job of blame game and posturing, with an eye on the upcoming elections. Most of us who are far removed from the reality but participate vicariously through the television and newspapers, return our normal lives and wait for the next big story. The noises that are being made now in the media about starting a movement against terror will soon abate as another issue explodes and our attention diverts. Violence and death are so prevalent that they don't move us anymore.

Meanwhile the madness continues unabated. Is there a solution for this bloodthirstyness? Who will rein in these horrible instincts in these people-- this hatred, perversion and apathy?

Reality

2008-11-28T16:49:00.003+05:30

The disadvantage of waking up late is that I miss the chance to meditate early in the morning. And as if to compensate for my laziness and also to bait me to sleep longer, there are dreams and dreams. Most are nothing but fantasies or horror stories but some are truly fascinating. In one, I am shot dead and then I move around as a spirit. Many dreams are plain embarassing, like I'm shitting in public and people who know me are moving around, casting horrified looks at me. And then there are a few that makes one start jumping, after realising that these are not just dreams.

Then there's this dream in which I meet Barack Obama, two days after he won the elections. I ask him, 'how do you manage to maintain your cool under extreme pressure?' He replies something like, 'I'm not in a hurry to go somewhere or do something else. Wherever I am, I remain there totally.' He sounds like Eckhart tolle, maybe he picked up these lines from 'The New Earth' which I was reading last night before drifting into sleep.

These words arrive when I'm in the shower, hurrying up, and without much effort I slow down. I take time to observe the drops of water as they trickle down onto the floor and lose their individuality. I feel the warmth this hot water gives my body-- I feel it totally. There's a new vigour that's building up from within and all the tiredness seems to escape with the vapours. Every drop transfers its freshness and aliveness to my body, my mind, my soul. I stop thinking beyond the door of the bathroom and stand in the shower for another 5 minutes.

Apart from any message or inspiration a dream may provide, it also makes you ponder over what you percieve as reality. What's the reality of someone who's blind and how does it alter once he regains his eyesight? How are the boundaries of reality pushed further once a deaf man opens up to sounds and music? You learn something new( a new skill, computers, another language..) and notice how your perceptions get enhanced. Visit places, talk to a stranger, learn to look from someones viewpoint and the same happens. So reality is never static but in a state of fluid dynamism. You can take your reality to any level. Meditate, still your system and allow the awareness to expand. Even at the thought/emotional level, the more expanded and broad you are, the greater are the chances of richness and happiness in your life and in the lives of those around you(The contrary is also true). Then how would it be if you can take your awareness beyond the physical level and pop into the unknown dimensions? Are there worlds beyond what we see, hear, feel? What other realities can we perceive once we break free of all our limitations?

And when you know that you're moving towards the epicenter of this turbulence, that a great explosion of awareness awaits humanity....you can't help but wonder--is it possible for the sleeping masses to actually wake up to the bigger truths? Speak about it now and you get sneers and astonished looks, as if you've just lost it. Will they still sneer then when they encounter the truth directly?

Back home

2008-11-28T16:28:00.002+05:30

Sometimes Tejas flies into a rage over some issue. Very soon his eyes become small bowls filled to the brim and his face contorts. He raises his hands, makes a gesture of hitting, yells in a weak voice and we know that he's inches away from breaking down and wailing. He stands there, helpless, unable to articulate his anger against an adult world which doesn't understand his viewpoint and just wants to beat his rebellion into submission. Anyone would want to cuddle him, wipe away his tears, console him but that would only fuel his rage. So we stay silent, allow him to express himself, allow him to shout, to wail, to throw things in rage, let his feelings out....

Soon there are disagreeing voices around. Others in the family enter the scene and try to sort things out the way they're usually done. They try to admonish him. Or try to cajole him which pushes him further. And with the admonish, his helpless anger gives way to sorrow and he breaks down. We pick him up, soothe him and divert his attention. The others who'd entered the scene now go back to their worlds.

I remember moments in my childhood wherein I'd feel such anger that I wanted to rip the world apart. And then I'd feel terribly helpless, impotent, subdued. Now I see the same pattern repeating with my son. I hate to see him face the frustration of going through the same loop. I hate to see him encounter the same people whom I'd wanted to beat into a pulp, decades ago.

His helplessness is mine too. How can I explain to others around here that a two year old kid has a very subtle self-respect and it's not okay to trample on it? That it's not okay to put him down in any way, make him feel small, humiliated? How I wish I could always give him all the space he needs. And how I wish the others who matter also think the way I do.

Slow blog

2008-11-28T16:18:00.001+05:30

'Thoughts are real'--I remind myself over and over. And then lose my way amidst another heap of rubbish that builds up on my mental landscape. I enjoy the orgy knowing well that this is suicidal.

Then I resolve to reject this flurry of negativity in its roots, just reject the first thought, dammit. I console myself with thoughts like, 'only if my meditations were strong enough' but that is a lie. 'You're full of shit,' is the truth.

My pen(or is it my keyboard!) goes into deep freeze and it takes quite a while for any writing to come forth! And on other rare occasions, the words pour out in a torrent, as if moved by an unbearable urge. Although many argue that this so called 'writing block' is another excuse for plain laziness, that you can write if you really have something to write, I think it's real for sure. You have your ideas. You know how to put it forth and you really would want to do it. But begin writing and pop! the muse dies. Words just evaporate and you look at the pen in your hand not knowing why it's there. That's the time to ponder a bit-- about your motivation to write, what you want to achieve by pouring your ideas out, what's the purpose of it all.

Cassandra writes that she considers blogging as a way to articulate her thoughts to herself. This looks good. And when you're articulating these thoughts with an intention of sharing with others, the clarity increases. Vague ideas begin to take shape into something tangible, something you can make sense of. Maybe all writing is nothing more than an attempt to bring order to an inner chaos, whether we know it or not.

So my already slow rate of blogging becomes much slower, thanks to slow blogging. Instead of regularly dashing off half seasoned posts about nothingness, I'd like to allow some ideas to ferment, get enriched with similar streams of thought and evolve into something of value, at least for me.

A sudden flash. I'm here to experience this pure love, pouring forth from the heart of this beautiful soul! That's the reason I was brought back from the brink, back from the edge of annihilation. To feel and experience this love. To know that one can love and be happy, without reason, without judgement, without any expectation. To know that one can be aware of such purity amidst a never ending dance with hatred and self-obsession. And one can manifest this love with anyone, under any circumstance, no matter what.

You are capable of feeling this emotion and also expressing it very silently, very subtly. Yes you can.

Last Impressions...

2008-11-01T15:28:00.004+05:30

....are everlasting, many times. You think of someone and the first thing that comes to mind is how he'd appeared for the last time you'd seen him. He could've been a totally amazing person but if he'd screwed up in the final instance, that's what you're most likely to remember about him. Or if he'd been kind and loving all his life but finally turned bitter, you remember him as someone who's rude/depressed. This could be a top of the head reaction, and one may have to dig deep to get to the real character of that person, but how often do we dig deep is the question.

I remember my granny sitting alone in her bed, looking nowhere while we kids played around in the courtyard. She was more than 75, brittle, physically unwell and psychologically bruised. Whenever I think of her, it's this lonely, suffering image that comes up from memory. That she was a loving granny and sometimes strict too is a bit hard to conjure up, but that was a fact. She would pamper and spoil us for the two months of summer vacation every year, when we visited our native. She'd admonish us for the devils we were and also shower us with love. A mother of 6 and a grandmother to more than a dozen and a half, she must've witnessed a largely peaceful life in a sleepy hamlet for most of her years. All these would gradually pave way to a lonely existence after my grandpa's death and after the return of her rebellious son. In her last years she went through severe psychological abuse at the hands of her son, who'd unfailingly get drunk every evening and create a scene for the most trivial reason. Ignored by grandchildren who were growing up in their own individual worlds, taunted by unsympathetic daughters-in-law, and largely unwanted by anyone, it appeared as though she was wishing for death many times instead of living through the hell that her home had become. So when we were playing around and once in a while when I looked at her, I could in a way sense her desperation and cluelessness. I'd think that it would be better to die when you were needed than live upto such a ripe age and become a burden on others. It's this image of her that has stayed in me eversince.

Similarly When I think of O, I see a selfish schemer although that's the image that came to the forefront in the last 1 hour of our interaction. Throughout our 4 years of friendship he came across as a multi-talented, dynamic, warm person but how's it that I don't associate these qualities with him? How do I retain only the negatives about him? The same happened with a couple of friends, who were dignified, gentle, witty but now I've to try hard to link these qualities to them because of their not so glorious final acts. How is it that we carry back only the surface attibutes of a person that are most glaring instead of his subtle characteristics? Are we biologically hardwired to process and store information in this way--keeping stock of only the recent, more useful(?) information and relegating the rest to the dustbin of memory?

And what image do others retain about me is also worth pondering. An unforgettable character from my childhood is Satyajit, a dear friend with unusually large ears, who'd happily call our teacher as 'aunty' when the rest of the class sheepishly referred to her as Miss. Although we were the best of friends, he must be recalling memories of a nasty fellow whenever he thinks of me. Long long back, on the final day when we parted ways, I was at my worst, harassing him for no reason and thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. He was sad but uncomplaining. I came to my senses within minutes after he left and fervently wished that I'd make amends if only I could meet him again. A swathing sense of guilt and sadness stayed in me for a long time after that final farewell but I guess, if I were him, I'd always carry that last impression of a nagging bully instead of a dear friend whenever I'd think of myself.

Maybe it's unfair to judge people, for better or for worse, but definetly not right to push aside all their characterisitics and weigh them only by their most recent behaviour. And given the lengths to which we go, consciously or not, to gain approval, to belong to a group/community, to look good in others' eyes, it's amazing to think how randomly we judge others or get judged by them. It takes a lot of detachment to be impervious of others' opinion of us. Maybe the evolved souls strike the right balance between developing strong interpersonal relationships and giving no shit to what others might think of one. But for the rest of us, who're on the highway of evolution it's a bitter-sweet struggle between appeasement and indifference.

Mmmm....Uh!

2008-10-23T16:26:00.003+05:30

So the crash has officially started, right! Nowhere is it more evident than in the in-between-work gossip that fills up our cubicle air. No more talks of quitting and job-hopping. No fancy info about huge pay-checks in the adjoining MNC. Nazeer, who till recently wanted to smash the manager's jaws before throwing the towel, is silent nowadays. Will our jobs be secure? Will there be a pay-cut? And if you dare change jobs, will you last in the next company till the probation period ends? No bloody idea! Back home there's an invisible air of apprehension, barely tangible. The stock market afficionados of our layout have gone underground. What's your bank balance? A few lakhs. Or a few thousands! Is there any difference? We're probably staring at the gradual unfolding of a once in a millenium situation where everyone-- rich/self sufficient, educated/worldly wise, civilized/natural, rebel/applause craver, young/defeated...everyone's brought down to the same level of bare existence. Now you're an authentic human being, not the masks you've acquired or been handed down. Exciting? Boring? Heart-stopping?

In this dazed atmosphere, you don't know what's really happening inspite of all the facts and 12 digit numbers you can rattle off, straight from the experts. Should you continue your daily job and normal humdrum until something else happens, someone comes from nowhere and fixes/screws things further so that your life gets shattered/redefined? Is there anything else we can do at the individual level, to sail our boats through this turbulence? And though this question can be asked in any situation, recession or not, it's worthy to ask oneself loud and clear----who the hell am I and what in all heavens am I supposed to be doing here? Where do I go from this point onwards and What's to be done now? What are the real things of value and what can be dispensed off? How will my level of awareness, Open mindedness, adaptability and detachment determine the suffering or enlightenment I'm going to experience further down at the bend?

Pondering...Finding...

It's a bit amusing and interesting to observe patterns--wherever they emerge. Two patterns I've observed in my son; One, he picks up an activity slightly late for his age, making us a bit apprehensive. Once he starts, there's no stopping him--it's as if he's on a race. He walked a bit late for his age but once started, we'd to run behind him, scared lest he bump around and hurt himself. Now the same thing's happening with his speech. After a spell of reticence and incoherent words, he's found the spirit, broken the dam so to say; the words seem to be flowing effortlessly.

Secondly, he seems to sense out the friendly people from the not so friendly ones. With the former, he's most comfortable --when my cousin came visiting for the first time, tejas responded with a smile and shook hands with him, inspite of his natural waryness of strangers. My cousin has a warm demeanour and assuring sense of humour and Tejas seemed to sense this instinctively. With the latter, he's either stubborn or shy. I've noticed his lack of rapport with a few people inspite of repeated cajoling; no matter how much anyone tries, he keeps away from a few people. Maybe his intuition tells him more about them than his limited intellect can.

Maybe all kids make sense of the world around intuitively, naturally, until civilization kicks in.

Driving back home from Manasa on a Sunday evening, Kavi asks, 'Where would we have been now, if it weren't for Meditations and this path?' No idea! This is one track which many of us chose independently at some point in the past and bingo! here we are, cruising together along this road -- happy, intrigued, and awakening in degrees. If I hadn't chosen this.... if I had proposed to that girl in college, if I had completed my studies, if I had not read a particular interview in a particular magazine in which someone narrated the benefits of Yogic practices, if I hadn't taken the trouble to find out about meditations and put an application, if I hadn't faced humiliation and acutely felt a sense of worthlessness.....if this and if that....maybe I'd have ended up in some gutter or made it to the heavens. But if you'd followed some other track, you'd have stopped at some point and pondered, 'if it weren't for that, where would've I ended up?'

So you have your questions no matter what track you follow and you can always ask, if not for this, where would've I been? You have reached where you were supposed to reach. Period. I am supposed to be here, at this point in time, doing these things, living with these people, going through these experiences, nurturing these dreams....pondering about all of this and writing it in my blog...Nothing else!

Most mornings begin with a drizzle. When I drive to office, I'll be breathing through an almost invisible veil of soft mist that seems to descend slowly from the overhead trees. The day passes in a cloudy gloom. Then before the skies break open, a short spell of rain lashes early in the evening and stops.

Taking a walk in this weather is nothing short of heaven. The whole world looks spotlessly clean, fresh, innocent....like a baby that's just had a refreshing bath. Smiling faces around. Receptive minds.

Afterthought...

Now let's dream a bit. Maybe I and you haven't left home at all. Only a part of my being has descended into this life-track and is going through these times. Maybe I have descended into different tracks, in different worlds, experiencing different lives, unaware of each other but knowing at the source and being aware of all these various lives... and what I know as suffering is being totally unaware of my source and being totally sucked into this individual life....and what I'll experience as Enlightenment is to know deeply, experientially that I'm the Source whose partial awareness has descended into this life-track and is asking all these questions,....that I'm only a part here, but basically I'm nothing but the source.

Okay, let's experience this!

The Pleasure of Reading...

2008-09-22T17:03:00.003+05:30

...surpasses every other pleasure--for me. Put me in a room full of books that get automatically renewed/replaced periodically and I'll stay there for all eternity, unbothered about anything else. We picked up this dirty habit in early childhood when Dad would bring home all periodicals, magazines, books of the day(He still does it nowadays, with more vigour) and we'd fight over each other to read the latest installment of Champak, Amar chitrakatha, chandamama....the habit got reinforced in late school and early college years when I had more friends in fictional characters than in real life, the fictional world being more authentic and fascinating than the drudgery of everyday existence.

Circa 2005. I discovered blogs. And also discovered that I had sufficient cash flow by which I could indulge myself by purchasing every other delicious book I could smell. Three years of software testing and I can say, I've read more during office hours than tested code(of course, by squeezing all work into my available 'work' hours and getting three headaches every month). I wake up early sometimes and read. Or sit late at night. Carry a book to the railway reservation queue. Or at the doctors. I read two books in between attending the marriage rituals of my sister-in-law. And sometimes during breakfast, I'll be eating more words than bread crumbs. Yet there are more unread books in my shelf than those which I've read. And my must-read list goes on and on making me wonder if I'll ever get to the end of it in this life-time.

But what's the point? Why read at all? Spend so much time-money -attention...for what purpose? The primary purpose is ...pure orgasm. Nothing else. And sometimes, a bit of illumination(eckart tolle, khalil gibran), inspiration(ran prieur, reality sandwich, Dave pollard) and new thought(last american man,flow). But most of the time, it's the simple intellectual and emotional kick/satisfaction that's derived by looking and wondering at life through eyes not your own. I bet, the pleasure center in the brain for sex, fruit-salad and reading must be the same!

And just as a new project starts at work, I come across this series of blogposts--a rendition of the Epic Mahabharata through Bhima's eyes. And a book on Ramayana by Kamala subramaniam which a friend has promised to deliver this weekend. And another set of translations of Marathi mythological novels in English (Mruthyunjaya and Yayati), which I'll get my hands on very soon.

If I were a gladiator I would've shouted, 'Felice di essere vivo e cazzo!' Yeah!!

Dawn..still far away

2008-09-05T00:24:00.003+05:30

You think that you're super detached. You think you're not sentimental. You pride yourself in your aloofness, in your stoicness. No, you aren't. You are very much human even if you have difficulty in accepting it.

A colleague leaves for another company after 4 years and you have a lump in the throat. He isn't a best friend, infact he's a pain sometimes, but this long association ends in a snap. And with this, something in you dies too. Where did this tenderness arrive from? You had become hard and opaque; you'd deliberately killed all soft feelings and turned rigid over many years. What was it that mellowed you? Made you responsive! Sensitive!

I know hunger. I've felt its pangs, an immense burning sensation that clouds everything--your judgement, your reasoning, the very awareness that you're a human being. Long back, when I was travelling a long distance with very little money and even little inner strength, I spent nearly two days eating two packets of biscuits and an apple. By the time I reached half the journey, I was mad with hunger and could barely walk. So when I hear the adage, 'The greatest God is the food God,' I agree wholeheartedly. You can speak lofty ideals only after your stomach is full. When hunger strikes everything else goes out of the window and what's left is a pure animal who's intent on surviving, nothing else. If there's anyone who's an exception to this, I haven't met him/her yet and would definetly like to know them.

There are reports of food riots breaking out in flood ravaged bihar. The administration has failed to cope up with the devastation there and much of the relief sent by the government is eaten up by the middle men, with only a trickle reaching the needy. What follows is pure survivalism. Hungry villagers armed with sticks and sickels have attacked the food godowns, grabbing sacks of rice and wheat, carrying them back to the waiting stomachs at home. It takes only a river to flood and a pathetic administration to fail and you have authentic human nature coming out.

Maybe you don't need such extreme situations too-- a small push will do. A funny thing happens every afternoon at the restuarant near my workplace. The crowd that collects at the food counter is a healthy mix of officials, executives, technicians and people from all walks of life. We buy the tickets at the entrance, hand it over to the servers at the food counter and wait patiently for the food to arrive. If there are 10 people who've ordered Masala dosa and the server brings 4 at a time, it's a sight to watch people jump over one another to grab these dishes. At that moment you aren't a manager or an executive from a Multi national, drawing a six figure income every month. You're a bloody stomach. And sometimes the cook comes out and peeks at us with a wry smile. He's no longer a poor cook ekeing out a living preparing dishes in a modest restuarant. For one moment, he's God.

'Everyone does everything for his stomach and for a peice of cloth,' sang a saint. How cool would it be if one could bypass the need to eat in order to survive! Maybe we could draw nourishment from the sun directly, the way plants do. And have no need to work, earn, struggle. Wishful thinking. Why not?

Amidst a never ending effort for a secure base, for stability, beating your hands frantically attempting not to drown, there are sudden flashes. That everything is just fine as it is. That you're better off swimming in the current and there's no need to panic, to reach the shore or find any destination. You're at home right now, here, in this very place and moment. Such moments arrive unheralded, at unlikely places--say, when I'm in the middle of the busy traffic, or under the shower, or while surfing the channels or observing my son at play....

And these moments are so fleeting that in an instant, you're back to your anxious self. You're again in the flux, in the struggle, fighting, seeking, hoping. But you know that the moment comes again. That it's not a freak occurance. That the relaxedness is your default state of living to which you'll go back soon. That you need to find ways to set up roots in that stillness, in that carefreeness.

'To utter the truth you need a simple courage,' he said. 'To accept something as true itself requires great courage. I hate to hurt others but is it because I'm scared that once hurt, they may pounce on me? Or do I have a genuine concern for their well being?'

'You might have a real concern for them...'

'Mmm. I think not. I'm scared that they'll attack me. Or maybe stay away from me and I'll become alone. Or even, if someone's hurt, it makes me feel wretched and I don't like feeling that way...'

I thought for a while and said, 'What do you want to do then?'

'Just speak the truth. And live quietly after that. No f pretense. I'm tired.'

I sit alone in the dead of the night, listening to crickets, barking dogs from another universe and the thud of my fingers on the keyboard. For one moment, I wonder what I'm doing here, putting my thoughts down, for what purpose. I have work to do, a waiting headache in the office tomorrow, followed by a possible dinner with friends in the evening and a relaxing weekend after that. I have several journeys to traverse, new lessons to learn and, inspite of bitterness and anxiety, a rewarding life to explore and celebrate. I stand on the threshold of new discoveries and an exciting tomorrow. When I'm truly tired of thinking and feeling for myself, I stand up and try to expand a bit, try to look ahead and around. No, I can't empathise with others. Expandedness is an empty word for me; I can only feel for a select few around me.

I'd love to expand, to feel the oneness with others, other beings, other things. I'd love to feel this Love--pure and pristine. Taste it. What's it like?

I'll find this Love. When I cease, it shall be found....

Immediate thoughts

2008-08-20T18:10:00.002+05:30

'Lust Caution' is disturbingly pleasant. Not just for the explicit scenes but because of the conclusion, in which the protagonist fails in the carefully thoughtout mission for which she has devoted her life. I expected an ending in which she finishes off the villian after another intense lovemaking session and either breaks down in regret or flies off into the sunset with the hero who's waiting in the sidewings. What happens is totally unexpected and so true to life--like, you search for some bloody conclusions and neatly tied-up endings here and you draw a blank. Life isn't a fucking holly/bollywood drama where the white triumphs over the black and you get pampered and mollycoddled by existence. It's a kaleidoscope of gray shades--you don't know what's right or what's wrong in this dreamlike reality and by the time you figure it out, you're near the end of the goddamned journey and you're still not sure.

A fascinating peek into what might exist beyond our perceptions, beyond death, on the other side. Here. Reminds me of what this guy says 'The occult isn't hidden. It's ignored.'

Nowadays it's frequent... a sinking feeling... that I'm wasting my youth, my time, my energy in the pursuit of horse shit. That I'm missing the most precious years of my kid, staring at a blinking box and typing like insane in a cold cubicle, doing what, I'm not sure. That I watch the days, weeks, months passby without knowing or trying to know my purpose, why the hell I'm here or what'm I supposed to be doing.

Do I flow with the world around--living like a robot just like everybody else because everything around's so screwed up, and then waking up only when everything falls apart in the near future? Or do I take charge of my life and decide what to do with it--Now--without waiting for something to happen or someone to come around and rescue me?

Who on earth am I...

2008-08-09T17:20:00.002+05:30

I am a body-- fair, lean and hungry. I am the voice inside my head. I am what I think I am.

I am this face... no, I am someone hiding behind this face, looking out, hearing something, thinking a lot. I am a person in this body. I'm this stubble, this breath, this black tee-shirt with some crap imprint.

I am a wary child to my parents; I am a watchful and delighted parent to my child. I am a struggling disciple to my Guru. I'm the irreverant, disrespectful guy standing next to you. I'm the lover of my beloved. I'm an unending desire, a guilty passion. A stranger to oneself. In dark moments, I'm a good for nothing jackass yet at brighter horizons I'm most self-assured. I'm my moods.

I'm what I eat. I'm hunger and thirst. I'm my frequent headaches. I'm the irritation of the mosquito bites. I'm sleeplessness. I'm physical.

I'm lust. I'm the uncontrollable anger. I'm the regret that follows the anger. I'm an energy that posseses this body at times. I'm the body possesed by this strange energy.

I'm a yearning for many freedoms. I'm the freedom which I yearn for.

I'm the fear of many unknowns. I'm the nostalgia of bygone days. I'm a few terrible regrets of my youth. I'm a great enthusiast of the coming future.

I'm what I scribble, what I type. I'm the memory, bright yet painful. I'm the hope, anxious yet excited.

I'm a slave to the society, a conformist craving for validation. I'm a secret rebel, raging to explode. I'm a prisoner of my own imagined limitations. I'm the revealation that the prison is an illusion, that I'm without limits.

I'm a stranger, lost in the crowds of a big city. I'm a friend, smiling at unknown people, feeling myself in them.

I'm the hero and the coward of my dreams. I'm the beggar of my senses. I'm the conquerer of small triumphs.

I’m a thousand questions, a million doubts, and a few answers. I’m the wonder of a baby’s eyes and the wisdom of the aged wrinkles.

I’m solitude, a deep longing to be alone. I’m the warmth of friends, family, acquaintances, a craving for company.

I’m a cog in the wheel of a Software vehicle on the Information highway. I’m a wageslave yet I’m the taste of independence given by the work ethic.

I’m the search for an unknown, unglimpsed light. I’m an untapped potential, a divine possibility.

I’m humour and pathos. I’m exhilaration and sorrow. Day and night are in me.

I stand naked yet hide innumerable secrets. I’m the tear behind the smile.

I’m the sum of several mistakes and lessons. I’m the latest fall and the newest admonish.

I’m the one you humiliated and also the one who lauged at/wept over/felt awkward at your humiliation. I’m the fire surging towards a fresh vision.

I’m an adventure. I’m a bird in flight.

I’m the one who lit the candle.

I'm the one who’ll watch the candle burn out into a thin smoke.

I am darkness.

I am light.

I am everything.

I'm the nothing that pervades everything.

I am.

I.

...

Small new beginnings

2008-07-24T17:12:00.003+05:30

There are frequent powercuts these days. We three sit in front of the Tv late at night, expecting the latest installement of 'Mata ki chowki', and plunk goes the power. We peer at one another for sometime, a bit bewildered, too lazy to get up and
light a candle until tejas begins to get uneasy and starts questioning. The fan's stopped and it's getting warmer. Light the candle, sing a lullaby and pat tejas to sleep. Pull out a book and try to read in the waning candle light. Close it and walk out. Every other area surrounding ours is bright with glittering lights; our colony is an oasis of darkness. Stand under the million sparkles up there. Shut all mental noise and look at the silence. Be still.

I leave home early, thinking I'll avoid the traffic jams but no, there are at least three clogs before I reach office. And with 300 two wheelers being added to the roads of bangalore everyday, one wonders where this will lead to? The pollution, dust, hustle are overwhelming at times and I'm sure this must be the case across many more cities elsewhere. Suddenly you have a sinking feeling that you're driving fast down doom's lane, that an inevitable crash is staring in your face. Yet we continue our daily lives as if this technoutopia will continue ad infinitum. My next ambition is to possess an iphone, a laptop and a royal enfield motorbike. This amidst my noble desire to cut down on my wants, to simplify, to learn new skills of sustainability and,community building. The conflict is obvious; between the old world and the coming new age, a world of material wants and isolation and a new world of inner growth and community. Of hoarding excessive baggage and living lightly.

A new house is getting constructed in our layout and the watchman has built a small room next to the park and moved in with his family. The husband and wife work hard all day long, eat their food early in the evening and are deep asleep while the rest of the layout is busy watching teleserials. There are four small kids, who play all day in the sun, sand and rains. Once this house gets constructed, this small family will shift elsewhere and take roots--for sometime. And then move again. Their possessions are light, their worries & joys are immediate and it appears as though they're living day to day, moment to moment.

I guess, detachment and a kind of lightness are a part of their lives. They do not have to struggle to develop these, like I have to. If I want to change my house, I'll have to think hundred times. This house has been a part of me, my life, for the past 22 years. Much of my life is entwined here, so to shift from here is to uproot oneself and get rid of a part of ones identity.

I love to be that detached and light, however difficult and alien it is to me. And this could become a necessity also.

Reading Flow. Placed an order for a collection of short stories by Nathan englander(Had read a review of one of his shortstories here, long back). And also another book which I've been lusting for for quite sometime--'The last american man'.

I have a direct experience of how Light works. We saunter into the meeting room, expecting another round of verbal bashing and admonishes from the Manager. I channel light, spread it everywhere with a request of fearlessness and peace. Throughout the meeting, I stay aware of the light spreading out from my heart, all around.

Surprisingly, the manager seems to have forgotten that he's one hell of an asshole, for his behaviour is completly out of the norm. For the first time, he praises the team for the good efforts and resists from probing and prodding the individual efforts. Even the team members are relaxed and upfront in their reporting. There's an ambience of ease and humour, no fear or
dejection-- and the meeting ends on a high note with the manager hinting at the announcement of our overdue salary raises by the weekend.

How could this happen? 'It's an one off thing,'says Nazeer.'He'll bash us in the next meeting, just see.' The skeptic in me thinks the same. But I believe it isn't so. The Light makes a difference, in how people think, emote and act. It changes everything, elevates the quality of our lives and reminds even the hardened nut that beneath layers upon layers of accumulated dirt, she's a pristine spark of the divine. It first changes you, changes how you view the world. No matter you believe or not, it works, beyond the rat hole of all your learnt logic and rationality.

This simple event inspires me to practise Light awareness all the time, in every situation, under any circumstances, without any expectation of goodies or favourable ambience. Because I understand that the time period that's closing in on us in the near future has tremendous challenges, far far greater than dealing with the warped ego of a retarded manager. When the system comes crashing down on you, When everything you know about dealing with the world goes for a toss and you're confronted with a new world order, there's only one thing that saves, guards and guides you. It's the light that you carry, the light you manifest, the light you're aligned to.

You are that light. Not an alienated human pygmy tossed onto this earth, in a remote corner of an uncaring universe. You...are...Light. Know it and start living it....Now

Where's your sense of humour...!

2008-07-12T01:13:00.001+05:30

Heavy tension pervades our workplace nowadays. A project has started with the tightest deadline ever and it seems to be taking its toll on all of us. Suddenly we're transported back in time, to that suffocating school days when the terrorist PT Master stood over us, ruler in hand, thrashing not the knuckles or bones but at a part where it hurts most--ones self-esteem. That horror has revisted and everyone seems to be enjoying it.

Every evening is a torture where the project manager marches all the team members into a stuffy room and conducts a status meeting. Even the best effort is ridiculed, every minutes accountability is asked and there are long lectures on time-management, dedication, quality, work-ethics and company policy. The juice in the work is gone and what remains is a dry terror. We listen in awe as the manager barks on and on, making each one feel and realise ones own worthlessness.

When I stand listening to the never ending harangue, wondering what karmas did I do to deserve this, who comes to my rescue but my dear friend R.K.Narayan! I lift a scene out of 'The Bachelor of Arts'--and imagine the manager, a short, stout fellow standing in the middle of the room, only in his underpants. That ugly scar on his pot belly, how his teats bounce every 5 seconds, how he scratches himself like a sick dog, that super squeaky voice--what's there to be scared of this asshole? 'I'm going to hold this against each one of you, once this ends'--bark, bark--he's threatening with termination if we don't do as he wants us to. Now I imagine him in his full glory, in his birthday suit. Awww Yuck! Why does he attack and thrash his juniors? His wife's a bomb and he's so pathetic; that's the source of his self-hatred and inferiority complex! 'I was a school leader and I'm used to kicking people out'...Yeah, I just heard you fart, you jackass!

What's strikingly astonishing is the fear he evokes in everyone around here? What's everyone scared of? Loss of job? Loss of face? Fear of embarrassment? The primeval fear of annihilation is staring at every face here and it's to be seen to be believed. And secondly, the way he sways and influences everyone towards his ideals. There are only robots here, programmed to act, not aware human beings with self-respect. All nod to his tunes, the way the Nazis might've listened to the Fuhrer...where does he derive this destructive power? Does someone else whack him and so he takes it out on others? There, he farts again!

This is the worst period of my worklife. Maybe my best. These crushing forces have now shown me what's the prioritiy and what's fluffy! What's lacking, what's to be done, how to do it, where's the motivation--these are becoming clear. Whether I act on them and grow or pass through the ordeal and remain unchanged remains to be seen. But boy does it hurt, this change.
The proverb is totally true...'My ass is getting torn and becoming as wide as that door...!'

The Tao is Silent

2008-07-05T19:37:00.001+05:30

One world.....One Light

2008-06-12T14:41:00.008+05:30

'I'll first practise this properly. Only then will I write about it.....'

'You're already practising it all these years. You've been living it. You don't have to wait!'

Early in the morning, before my son is up and jumping, I come out of the room onto the terrace. At a distance, one floor below on another terrace, I see Sahana sitting in a meditative posture. Maybe she has spotted me and becomes self-conscious and fidgety. I move away where she cannot see me.

Go down memory lane. Nearly 15 years ago, in my college years I took up Yogasanas and spiritual practices, just on a whim. It was unusual then-- nobody in my class practised such things, none of my friends were bothered about meditations or spirituality....even my interest in these things was born out of a desperation to improve myself, to come to terms with a nagging sense of emptiness. I would wake up early, have a cold bath, amble up to the terrace, spread a mat and practice exercises, yogic postures, breathing techniques, try to silence the mind....and I was the queer fish. Once in fifteen days I would go on a 12 hour fast. I became totally vegetarian and began to strictly observe my diet. Mom and Dad would scold me for such fancies, my sisters and her friends found these indulgences silly(maybe they still do).

Things happened fairly quickly. In the same desperation, with the similar necessity to come to terms with another spell of dejection and directionlessness, I joined a spiritual path. I took up meditations a tad seriously. And with that a new life began, something I never paid much attention to, and just took into my stride as if it was a natural thing. A paradigm shift, you could say.

Meditation, as I understood, was a process by which we would silence, not just the mind but our entire system. It was difficult. It is. But what I gradually came to know and accept was that, behind this practice there existed the wisdom of thousands of years. Meditation was not just about focussing your attention on some symbol and gaining peace of mind. This effort of becoming silent would create a space where a hundred other processes would get initiated. Most of these processes remained hidden except for a few glimpses here and there, a fleeting vision, strange dreams,.....but I would hear accounts of amazing experiences from fellow practitioners. There are multiple worlds and dimensions behind and beyond what we normally can see, hear and feel! One of the processes initiated through meditations would cleanse our perception and make us aware of these multiple worlds! I met and listened to people who could recall these visions, who could narrate improbable occurences. Somehow these didn't come across as tall stories. They defied logic but there was a ring of authenticity in these experiences.

Yet these were just the side-effects. The main intention of Meditation was Self-transformation. Not just the transformation advocated by self-help gurus-- to become assertive, to communicate well, to win friends, to become the toast of the party...No. The transformation had to be total, from taking your awareness from a limited ego-centric 'I', to the center of your being. To experience who you truly are, not just a body or a mind, but a brilliant spark of divinity. To directly know the truth of existence. To find out who you are, why you're here, what you're supposed to do with your life, how to do it and where you go from here. What lies before birth and after death? Not just rhetoric but an actual experience. In deep silence and an expanding awareness, you would gain a simple clarity about existence. Meditation was a process that would take you to that experience and bring you back transformed. Enlightened! The Goal is Enlightenment. And beyond!

This was tremendous. I'd unknowingly stepped into a fantastic voyage.

It was an ocean, an unknown world into which I waded with trepidation. There were fellow travellers, youngsters like me and also unlike me. Many of us(not all) came to the spiritual world without an inkling of what it was. We wanted relief from our problems, we wanted a sense of direction when nothing was sure, maybe we wanted to explore. Yet we got more than what we'd bargained for. Without any fanfare, we'd gradually grown into better people. The total transformation towards which meditational practices aimed at, did not come in one big cascade. It would happen gradually, without upsetting the balance of our lives. Yes it did. And continues to do so. There were fears reconciled. Responsiblities taken up. Adventures were answered. A cheerful disposition arrived. Cynicism withdrew. I changed and so did my life. This world is subjective. Change your attitude and 'your' world changes.

And there was new knowledge awaiting us. That we're in a very great period of transformation, a period of turbulence and churning which was mistaken as 'pralaya' or destruction. That the destruction was not a physical one but that of an unstable old world order. That the Golden age is about to begin and we all are on the threshold, to welcome this new age. That all the darkness we observe around us as corruption, violence, pollution, environmental devastation and all the negativities that are within us in the form of greed, hatred, excessive materialism, unconsciousness--every ounce of darkness would be answered soon. That we were the answers as much as we had been the problems. That we carry the light which would remove this darkness. And there is more light waiting to descend. There are unseen Masters, unknown guides waiting to help humanity transit into the new age....Much much more.

There were techniques which were beyond meditations. We meditated to transform ourselves. And we practised the higher techniques to transform the world, to help others receive the light and transform. A collective growth would happen at a lightening speed if there was a collective will and a mass practice.

On a day with an overcast sky yet a cheerful atmosphere, I open my mailbox and.....

Dear Friend,

This is about a movement that has just begun, a World Movement. A movement towards a higher life. It is a movement towards Light, away from darkness represented by injustice, corruption, suffering, environmental damage etc. It is a movement to live in Light.

Like all movements, this movement has begun silently by a small group of people and it should be expanded to as many people as possible to gather momentum and become effective. The participation does not involve any money or lots of your precious time. It does not require any specific background. All it needs is a few minutes of your time to bring down the Light and spread it to the world. The Light has the power to transform the world but it will work only when we consciously bring it down and allow it to work.

Please visit the website for information on how you can participate in this World Movement.

Please forward this message to all your friends and help this movement.

Divine Love,

Guruji Krishnananda

When I see Sahana meditating on her early morning terrace, I feel like shouting to her, asking her to take up this practise--although she was one of my sister's friends who ridiculed my spiritual practices long back. Yet the world has changed in all these years. There's a newfound interest in the sublime. Youngsters and the elderly alike are drawn to Meditations and yogic practices. We no longer accept what life hands down to us but raise questions---Is there more to life than mere survival and sensual gratification? Do we continue to exist as mere cogs in the ever churning wheel of civilization--nothing more than nuts and bolts in the greater scheme of things? Where on earth are we headed towards? There's a growing unrest with the mundane and an inclination to grasp higher truths. Many of us are at different stages but all are on this journey. From darkness towards the light of a New Age.

I make time amidst my seemingly hectic schedule to practice lightchanneling*. I imagine this message spreads far and wide, through emails, blogs, word of mouth--from this blog and many other websites too. I see millions and millions of people practicing this technique every day, all over the globe, across nations, races and religions. A tremendous force of intention is created through innumerable hearts--that we shun darkness and ask for light. That we shun selfishness and ask for oneness and love. That we desire simplicity. Happiness. Bliss. And Enlightenment.

We get what we ask for. We ask for the Light. Let there be Light.

* Technique: Sit comfortably and close your eyes. Imagine a huge globe of bright white light above you. Draw this light and imagine it enters and fills up your body, your entire system. Feel and experience this light for a minute. Then imagine that this light spreads out and fills up your room, house, locality, city, entire globe and out towards infinity..... Practice this for 7 minutes in the morning and for 7 minutes before going to bed at night. Or at any convenient time in the day.

This light is not the physical light. It is God Himself. Have the awareness that this light is Love, Bliss, Joy, Positivity....this light ushers in the Newage wherever it goes.

My world

2008-05-29T00:11:00.004+05:30

'What's your motivation?'

The question arrives as I stare out at the darkness all around. Fresh darkness.

Amidst endless channel hopping, I stop breifly at Sanskar. Swami sukhabodananda is lecturing on living a stress-free life. Continous flow of words, expressions, stories, gesticulations.....of all the modern day swamis, gurus and teachers I personally find him to be the most irritating. The moment I see him on Tv or hear his voice on Moksha, I revolt....'but what has he done to you?' she protests amidst admonishes of not to utter expletives in front of the kid and I have no answer. I just can't stand him, that's it. Watching his theatricals, a question springs up, as if out of nowhere.....what motivates him to sit in front of an audience(and a bigger audience through television) and blabber on and on about stress, breathing, prana, mind, watchfulness.....! What on heavens motivates this person to clown around? From where does the inspiration arrive? Why do people do what they do?

A phone call. It's a far-off relative. He informs that one of my distant uncles passed away in Mumbai. I don't know how to react....I don't know this uncle, I haven't seen him at all. 'Is it....? Oh...' I stammer. Keep the phone. Inform Dad about it. Ponder a bit.

People depart just like that. A middle aged lady whom we used to meet in our weekly meditation classes, who used to be a bit of a bother with her quirks---she's run over by a truck and....It's bloody shocking. I drive to my office, covering nearly 25 kms a day, and hardly a day goes by without me approaching the 'edge' at least a couple of times. Vehicles whizz past and they have no eyes, no feelings, no sense of life or death. You're always on the edge and you never know when the balance tips. Cynical! And we always thought this drama would never end, would go on and on and on.....

The death toll in the Chinese earthquake is staggering. A Couple have lost their only son when his school building collapsed. The relief worker is holding the lifeless body, and the parents are putting on new clothes on the body of their child before sending him.....the anguish, the pain on their wailing faces...it brings a lump in the throat.

There's a cricket player on TV-- he's a batsmen for the Chennai team. I remember this bloke because I played with him once, long back, maybe 6 years ago. That was the period when all of a sudden I decided that my future would be in International cricket. I purchased a brand new cricket gear and joined a cricket club, at the ripe age of 25, when most players would be peaking at the highest level and beginning to wither away. Of course, the madness lasted for an year, but before that, there was a match against a team from chennai and this guy played for that team. A few years younger to me, his name was peculiar; Vidyuth. Meaning 'Electricity'. Who on earth would name their kid as Electricity? Why not Hydro electricity? Or nuclear power? Anyway this kid smashed us to all corners of the field in that match and that was it. Six years later, one day you switch on the TV what do you see but this guy playing in the Indian Premier League, smashing bowlers of international repute out of the stadium... and you can't help but admire the persistence, the tenacity this guy has, the passion that sustained him so long when everyone else who played that game six years ago are no where in sight, cricket wise.

We quarrel. My son gets irritated and shouts. As if he senses the ugly vibrations.

We stop at an evening restauarant and order two milkshakes. Overcrowded. A Sunday evening relaxed atmosphere pervades everywhere. A bunch of youngsters eat noisily. A shy couple at a distance. Another couple with an one year old kid. The chubby kid picks up the menu card and begins to play, much to the amusement of a lady in the next seat. She gestures and the kid smiles. The father plucks the menu card, gestures a hit at the baby and pulls him over to his lap. A young waiter watches the crowd, searching for any table that needs cleaning. The couple get up and the waiter walks over with his tub, cleans the table, removes all leftovers and goes back to his place. Stands there and watches again. Tired eyes.

A kid next door. His mom slaps him and he wails, 'What did I do.....Pappa come fast, Mom is beating me....!'

A new team leader arrives at Work. He's short statured, a bit low on the technical front but looks good in people management. A bit hesitant, trying to win the loyalty of a new team, balancing between bossing and understanding, getting bewildered by the aggressiveness of the senior management, pretending not to be listening when we make fun of his predicament...

A chunck of unstructured time arrives. Archana and Tejas are away at Nagpur visiting her sisters'. I take a week off and stay at home. Suddenly there's an abundance of the most scarce commodity in my world---Free time! Empty room. All the time in the world to give life to my dreams, to plan, to do, to stare at new horizons....and what I do is just while away my time in laziness, mindless reading and daydreaming. At the end of the week I sit up and ask, 'What happened?' No answers. And No judgements too. It's okay to laze, to stay relaxed, to let go and do NOTHING!

Suddenly I tell Mom. 'We'll be leaving in another 2 years.' She is worried.

Petrol prices are about to go up exhorbitantly. There's a suggestion that fuel could be rationed. Then? 'Can you ride to your office on a bicycle?' I imagine it for a minute. Not improbable. 'But what office are you talking about? What if the IT industry collapses?' ... What if fuel prices go so high that very few can afford it? What if oil reserves become empty? Will we go back to horse carriages, bullock carts?........ The first signs of days to come!

'When the human order collapses, a divine order will replace it immediately. We'll never be left alone.'

In this I trust. We will wake up to that tomorrow. You and Me. All of us.

Early morning. I channel the light. Just before hitting the bed at midnight, I channel it again. 'This light is God. It will transform this world. Spread this message everywhere, through websites, emails, blogs....Tell your friends. When a large number of people take up a simple act, it gains enormous strength and builds up a revolution...Do it. Tell others....'

Yes, I will.....

No Reflections, No lessons....

2008-05-02T17:37:00.002+05:30

We lived in a rented house for nearly 7 years before moving to our own house. The construction activity lasted nearly an year, during which Dad juggled between his office and monitoring the construction work-- a herculean task, given that he had to do it alone. I was about 10 then and was all excited about moving to a new house. What I never reckoned was that I'd be leaving behind a host of friends and playmates whom I'd known closely all along, moving away from an environment which was very familiar and intimate since my childhood. Venu was one of those friends, studying a class above mine, who belonged to an austere, pious family, which was very particular about tradition, values and orthodoxy. We'd spent countless afternoons and evenings, creating and inhabiting an astonishing world where we lived multiple roles. We were the fishermen, bus drivers-conductors, police-thieves, cooks-waiters, movie heroes-villains, and much, much more. He was my best friend. He was thin and dark complexioned, but over the one year period during which our house got constructed, he grew to become plump and fair skinned. Kinda chubby. When I asked Mom, she said,'He has brain tumour.' I didn't ask what it meant.

He left school and stayed at home, invoking terrible jealousy in me because school was nothing short of hell for me. He'd borrow my comic books/story books and read them all day long. 'Lucky fellow,' I reflected while dragging myself through the never ending chore of books, study, homework and exams. One night, his parents put a cot outside the house in the garden, and made him sleep there. 'Why?' and Dad said,'Some custom.' Later they moved him back.

We shifted our house in the early hours of a Sunday morning. We woke up early, got dressed and hauled all the furniture and other belongings onto a tempo. Venu's parents had once again made him sleep on the cot, outside the house. They were standing outside and waving us goodbye from a distance.

As the tempo started, Dad said, 'Venu passed away last night'. Those words hardly got registered amidst all the excitement and trepidation of leaving behind an old world and entering a new one.

Transitions are easy, even desirable, when you're a kid, but somewhere on the way to adulthood you lose the flexibility. You tend to become rigid, unmoveable, brittle.. The very thought of change brings uneasiness.

Maybe 10 years back. I was journeying from Mumbai to Bangalore on a second class train compartment. A man in his late 40s opposite me was reading 'My days', by R.K.Narayan. After resisting for a while I broke through my reticence and borrowed the book. He was a seniour executive in an investment firm, carried a guitar, smoked endlessly, and soon I got familiar enough with him to borrow a couple of cigarrettes from his pack and begin puffing. Another guy joined us--a young man my age, an autorickshaw driver from bangalore. We made an interesting trio--A seemingly refined gentleman, sophisticated and successful; a rustic struggling to make ends meet, but jovial and carefree; a young student, bumbling and unsure. We chatted like close friends, shared cigarettes and fruits, joked silly and filled up the compartment with spiralling smoke----looks like an improbable scene from a stupid movie.

What keeps this incident fresh in memory is the dirty looks I received from a couple in the same compartment. Especially the girl, who had a horror stricken expression, who constantly glared at me for having picked up bad habits at such an innocent(?) age, for having the audacity to smoke in public . Not the elderly man, not the autodriver but me! They could do it but not someone my age, someone with my appearance and from my background. It was as if I was murdering someone right there; what might have caused them serious greivance was the fact that I gave no shit, totally ignored their concern and continued to burn the endless hours into ashes.

A slight apprehension about 2012, when our earth enters the photon belt on the 21st of December. What could possibly happen? Will we survive? Or will the man made systems survive? When I think about my savings and future plans, I tend to keep this date in mind. Will civilization collapse? Or, as a few survivalists argue, is the system already crashing? Are we in the crash, right now?

'I want to become enlightened, before any such thing happens.....' he said. 'I don't want to exist in that turmoil, the way I am right now.'

'So what's the plan? How do you get enlightened....?'

'..............'

Unconventional...

2008-04-24T14:46:00.003+05:30

'When your son grows up, you'll see--he'll put you both in your right places.'

I was about to flare up but on hindsight, I think, it was good I didn't respond. Or maybe I should've said 'Thank you'. What she said was a wonderful compliment!

An obedient child is what most parents would desire. They'd like their sons/daughters to go to a good school/college, get good grades, find a well paying job, get married and settle down, have kids...... Or maybe not, not most of them. Some crazy nuts like me would rather, our children grow up as rebels, as unruly kids who give nothing but trouble to their parents. Not in a strictly negative sense though.

A parent belongs to the old world order. When she gives birth to a child, she's also giving birth to a new possibility, a new world. Every generation is an improvement over the previous one, every son/daughter is one step ahead of his parents in an evolutionary sense. The generation gap is bound to exist between all parents and kids of every age--the parent of every era looks back wistfully and says,'In our days.....', and decades later, when the kid becomes a parent, he too would say the same to his boys. An obedient son who's dutiful, follows his parents words and lives as they want him to could be what most parents wish for, but as a human being, he's just another cog in the wheel, another speck in a mass of ordinary souls who go through the motions of life. For my money, he's a failed ambition.

A rebellious son thinks for himself and decides the course of his life. He respects his parents' wishes but also has the utmost regard for his own dreams. Given a choice between following a path which his parents/society approve or setting out on a individual journey, he'd happily choose the latter. He is not afraid of unpopularity, nor is he worried about the opinions or validations of those around him. Because he knows well that most things of value will be feared and despised by the majority, who'd always want the status quo to continue. For them, a non-confirmist is an immediate thorn in the flesh, though years later, they might applaud and covet the success of the rebel.

I have friends who've followed the beaten path and also a few who've dared to pursue their own calling. A few who initially confirmed to the norms of the society, gathered muster later and took a leap into their destinies. They may not accumulate riches, comforts or a life of ease, but I believe, these are the souls through whom evolution takes a step forward. They may not accomplish great feats; some may do nothing more than reject a long held irrational belief. Some may simply refuse to run the rat race and instead decide to find meaningful work they care for. In the never ending humdrum of life, a few may choose to sit for a while and ponder over the questions, 'Who am I?' 'What is the purpose of my life?' & 'Am I living that purpose?' The seed of rebellion is ingrained in everyone of us; those who choose to recognise it, nurture it and allow it to grow into a mighty tree, irrespective of the murmur of disapproval from the surrounding wasteland---these are the ones who've fulfilled their destinies.

The rest of us are all on this journey---from confirmity to rebellion, from following our heads to listening to our hearts. Whether we choose to stay in the comfort of our self-made prisons or decide to fly out into the open sky, is left to every individual's choice. This choice is not an one-time affair, it needs to be done every moment, at every given opportunity. Each moment decides whether you're a rebel or a conformist.

A rebel discovers abundant joy, even in the absence of the comforts that a conformist craves for. And every conformist is a rebel in the making, whether he knows it or not.

Where was I

2008-04-01T23:42:00.005+05:30

Archana is filling up a form at the hospital and she shows an entry-- Religion! 'Skip it', I say but she writes 'Spirituality' and moves to the next one.

A story on the web--A nurse enquires with an elderly gentleman:'Religion?'. He says, 'Deals direct'.

My car breaks down and shows no sign of recovering, even after repeated cajoling. A friend says,'Take mine, no problem.' I thank him but he insists. Wondering if I would've lent him my car in a similar situation, I accept and drive back in his brand new vehicle.

We worry about how our son will cope up in our absence. Archana's in hospital for a couple of days, I've to run around and there's no option but to leave our toddler in my parent's care. Will he eat properly? Can they console him if he starts wailing? Will he sleep soundly? I call back every hour and Mom says, 'He's playing. Don't worry'. When I get back home I enquire. No, he had hardly noticed our absence and was blissfully enjoying the play and the company of other familiar faces around. 'Children are super-flexible and adaptable', says Ran prieur. No, he's super-detached, the way I hallucinate I am.

Reading 'Conversations with God'. 'Sit alone and talk to God. He'll respond and you'll notice', said Guruji once. Looking at the evening sky, I ask,'God, where are you? How can I talk to you and how do I know that it's your voice?' I wait, for a response, for a voice that is distinctly different from the usual chatter that goes on within. Out of nowhere there's an unusual clarity, a strange expansion. Before I can go deep into it, feel it, know it, experience it and come back transformed, I shrink back to the inner chatter, to the daydreams. And never think of attempting it again until now.................Why?

Standing naked in broad daylight. And those you know, you respect and you love are walking around, watching you. How does that feel?......This is the recurring theme of my dreams these days.

Why do I write? For what purpose? Maybe to get clarity within, to put my thoughts down and observe them for what they are. Maybe to understand my inner world. And something strange happens at times, when I pickup a pen and start scribbling, or begin typing. Strange connections form and new ideas start flowing--ideas that I never intended to put down in writing. After I finish writing I wonder at what has been written. They may not be earth shattering profound ideas, just simple truths, unusual perspectives, a fresh angle on an everyday issue. Was it me who penned these down? Or did these ideas find an outlet through me?

The magic of writing never ceases to amaze me. I'm glad I discovered it early and have used it to make sense of my world. And I hope this joy, this wonder never leaves me.

I want to stand alone, on my own conviction and do things by myself. A kind of non-cooperation, a kind of solitary heroism, a subtle arrogance...and soon life comes round and whacks! Situations arise where I need the other, where I have to bend down and ask, seek. Once these get over, I return to my prideful self until life reminds me yet again....Be humble, be a part of the whole, be one with everyone...!

One moment of madness is enough to destroy everything. Just one slip and I'm finished. And there were so many of those moments! What saved me? How did I remain sane?

Maybe I'm mistaken.... that's how life flows--unbothered about how we label the events....Not caring if I become a saint or end up a sinner. Who cares, anyway!

Thousand words

2008-03-06T16:05:00.003+05:30

Down to earth

2008-03-03T12:47:00.005+05:30

'Hold your left thumb between your fingers,' Ravi says.'Then squeeze it gently on an inhalation and release it while you exhale. Do it for five minutes and your headache will vanish.'

I'm desperate for any advice that removes this damn throb in the head. There's a long drive of 30 odd kilometers to be done and I don't know how I'll navigate the dusty, hot evening with this headache and drowsiness. Holding my thumb, I inhale and exhale, slowly. The nerves relax or it appears so. Before I start the car, I repeat the exercise for another 5 minutes. Feels better. I start off.

I've slept for most of the day, unable to tolerate the headache. I've skipped meditations, listened half-heartedly when friends were busy discussing, didn't smile even for courtesy when another friend joked---all my attention was captured by a silly throb in my temples. Maybe it's the body's way of drawing attention--'hello there, I've been here all along and you've bloody wandered off. Come back, a**h*le....'

After an hour and half of valiant effort, I reach home. Archana pours coconut oil on my scalp and pats rythemically. It's heaven! Slowly the pain subsides. Admonishes! 'Did you eat anything in the morning? I've told you not to drive on any empty stomach....' I reply something, all along watching my son play with his toys. His hair's grown and touches his shoulders--like that of the princes in ancient mythological tales.'Are you a prince?' and he nods. An hour later, after a hot bath, I'm back to normal.

'You are a body first.' The guy behind the mirror tells me. No, I tell him. I'm light, a spark of light, incarnated in this body. The body disintegrates, and with that, all that's associated with this body also goes off. This is temporary. I've been in millions of these bodies and one day, I'll leave this behind too. I'm pure consciousness..

'But first and foremost, you're physical. Ignore that and I'll screw you...' he mocks.

I ponder, a bit deeply, for sometime. I want to argue but decide against it. Maybe he has a point, maybe I need to pay attention. Take care of the body first. Be healthy to the point of becoming free of any physical concerns. Have that lightness in your body. That spring in your steps. Let the body be a tool, not a barrier, for your purpose whatever that might be.

The kid's fumbling with his shoes and making noises. He wants to go out and play with other children of the locality. 'Take him out, I'm tired,' she collapses on the chair, book in hand. The boy runs out and I follow him.