The future is here....

You pick up a book, shuffle the pages--end to end, close it and bingo! you can remember everything that you've read, understand it and grasp
the essence of the knowledge. How's that! You think that's possible?

Okay, how'bout this? You've a flood of new ideas. Wonderful ideas about everything--right from how to capture and utilize Sun's energy--the way plants do, how to reorganize your work-schedule so that you save 2 hours everyday, how to rearrange the parking space outside your shop so that you can accomodate six more cars comfortably. Or how to use the right manure that can revitalize a barren piece of land. And you have an amazing gift of explaining this to anyone in simple terms and inspire them. These ideas keep popping into your mind continuosly, so fast that you can hardly contain your excitement--you're once again a small child who has just discovered how to make a small cave out of sand on the beach, and keep the roof from collapsing. What would you give to get to that state of being?

You read a book on learning portuguese, and in twenty minutes flat, you can speak the language fluently, as if you've been in portugal all your life. You have an insatiable thirst for knowledge, in diverse fields of science, technology, arts--and you can grasp the concepts very fast. You look at problems from various angles and find instant solutions. You can move objects with your mind, by connecting to the energy field of those objects. How would that be?

Sounds crazy and damn scary! Looks good on a movie. Yeah it's a movie, but at the same time it hints at future possibilities that await us. 'Phenomenon' is a fantastic movie which appears farfetched or possible--depending on how open your mind is. John travolta plays an everyday small town man who discovers his amazing potential one night, when a mysterious light from the sky knocks him unconsious. He gets up and walks back to the bar where his friends are still partying and asks 'Did anyone see that light?' Nobody has. The town's doctor, who's an expert chess player has a board spread out in front of him. Travolta, who's as good in chess as a kindergarten kid is in nuclear physics, walks around explaining to his friends how the light hit him in the face and in between, makes two moves on the chess board. It's a check mate! In no time, his brain has grasped and excelled in Chess!

Later in the movie, we have scientists explaining the medical reasons for this--but here too, they say that his brain is getting stimulated like no other man's and new cells are opening up. How travolta grapples with his new found powers and how he lives intensly, albeit for a short period forms the rest of this beautiful movie.

For me, this represents the future. We are advancing into a new age wherein science and technology are making amazing strides like never before. But what's hidden and yet to be acknowledged is the advancement of the spiritual sciences. You speak openly and it becomes mumbo-jumbo new age babble--stress relief, deep breath, auras etc. Yet we had Osho who could finish two-three books a day and had grasped nearly 75000 books on various subjects over a period of two years. Swami Vivekananda had similar capabilities and we have recorded accounts of Psychokinesis by Uri gellar. These look like exceptional cases but maybe in days to come, this could become the norm.

What's required, I feel, is a thirst for this possibility, a quest in that direction. How do we as normal humans strive for this possibility--apart from looking at the night sky, expecting to be knocked down by mysterious lights?

Any ideas? Or is it time to wake up and shut the alarm?

A Thought....

A delightful short story by Kurt vonnegut. I'd read this years ago in an anthology and thanks to India uncut, I get to relish it, amidst a searing headache, boredom and in between finding never ending bugs in a software application.

A cursory visit to Nick's place leads me to 'Dilbert's blog' with plenty of good posts. And this one's the first post I read(the comments are more entertaining).

Gyan on a rainy Evening. Amidst continuos channel-hopping, the remote stops for a few moments at a particular programme -- a nursery rhyme in which a mother sparrow advises its young one not to play with a young crow. The baby-sparrow asks why and the mother says that if goes out to play with the crows, he too will become black and ugly like them.

The young sparrow replies--"In that case, I must go out with him because there's a fair chance that by playing with me, he'll become white and soft, just like me."

I'm not the baby sparrow yet. I can't make anyone white but I should try not to get eclipsed by the darkness of others. It takes a master to accomodate others and allow his own influence to remove their negativities. I'm not a master, not even in my dreams.

The book I'm browsing through says that a wise man knows how to keep away people who cause nothing but mental irritation. And everything I've learnt until now tells me that your true mettle is tested in how you accomodate unfavourable people, how well you accept the shortcomings of others and allow them to grow instead of keeping them away. What's the meeting point of these two diverse approaches?

I think these two aren't opposites, but different stages in your journey. From an ordinary person who's affected by others, you grow into a wise man who knows how to keep these others away. Then you become a master who can accomodate everyone--saint or sinner-- and like an alchemist, transform them by awakening the true spirit lying dormant within.

Mastery is far away. My next destination should be wisdom--avoiding mental irritation. And the irritation these days is sometimes more from within than from without.

People I don't know

Uday is the guy behind the food counter of the small restaurant where I'm gobbling up a Masala dosa. It's late evening and not the time to eat anything serious, if you want to have a good dinner. But I'm unusually hungry today. The dosa is delicious.

'I'm getting married this month', Uday says. He's gushing. 'The girl is from my native. From my community. Marriage's on this month end, on 28th. I'll get you a card if you come here tomorrow by this time'.

I congratulate him. He's an acquaintance from 5 years, and we used to play cricket on some sundays. He's kept aside half a cup of coffee for me--of course, for free. I deny it but he insists. We chat for a while. I wish him again before leaving.

Mom's explaining about the different savings and fixed deposits available at the local bank. The power's gone and the semi-dark atmosphere is endearing. Mom had an accident two months back. Her elbow cracked a bit and the doctors had to perform a minor surgery before setting it right. She's recovered now but has difficulty in freely using her injured arm.

'How's it now?'

' Fine, although I feel a bit of discomfort occasionally. By the way, when are you leaving for Jammu?'

' First week of May.'

We discuss about investments and other money matters. A few of my friends have enrolled their kids to nursery and pre-nursery schools, and all talk I hear nowadays is about the exhorbitant donations and hefty fees these schools demand.

'Save money, if not for anything, atleast for your son's schooling.'

'Yeah.'

'Do you talk to Archana daily?'

'Yes, mom.'

'How's your son? Does he smile a lot? Does he laugh?'

'Mmm. She says he's quite active....'

India's early exit from the worldcup has meant that Mom gets to sleep soon--or else, she'd stay awake late into midnight until the last ball is bowled, even if it's a losing match for india. Frequent powercuts means she can't watch her favourite soaps on tv.

"Are you planning to shift?' she sounds apprehensive. 'I hear, that friend of yours has rented a house near your spiritual center. Do you have similar plans."

'No. We have no such plans. I'm fine here.'

'Don't shift,' She says. 'Such a big house, this one. Why do you want to go anywhere else?'

I'm speaking to that friend. He's a regular reader of my blog, and sometimes I've to tell him that a particular post was Not written about him.

'Did you read Coelho's 'Like a flowing river'?'

No, I haven't.

'It's similar to your blog. He's written the events of his day to day life and made a book. When I read it, I feel you too can make a book out of your blog.'

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

'I read your post 'Old boy'. It's good.'

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

'Any contacts with old boy?'

'No. No news about him'.

'Are you people treating me the way you treat oldboy? I mean... I don't see the same behaviour in others nowadays. They behave as if I've done a terrible mistake.'

I explain. " You are not like oldboy. His case is different. As far as you're concerned, maybe it's your feeling that people ignore you or disrespect you. I don't think anyone has the time or inclination to deliberately disrespect others. We all are busy with our own lives, our own problems and situations....."

'Still, I see others ignoring me. I would like to know my mistakes so that I can correct myself.'

I know my mistakes and shortcomings. Maybe I don't need others to tell me where I've gone wrong or what mistake I've been committing.

The sky's getting overcast. We may have good rains tonight--the first rains of this summer.

"'Go home soon, before the rain catches you," I say as he starts his bike.

Another day

'Why are you doing this?'

'Because I want to. I love to do it. This is my passion, my life...'

'Really!'

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

I think about the conversation for long. It's there on my mind on the long drive back home.

Evening home. Dad looks sullen. 'Poornachandra tejasvi is no more,'he says.'He passed away today at noon'.

Tejasvi is one of the greatest writers of modern kannada literature. He's 68. Although he'd penned down just a handful of novels and shortstories, they were powerfully concentrated and rich in content. A brilliant thinker and a rebel, he'd lived for the most part, in a remote hamlet, cultivating coffee, fishing in the streams, walking the untamed forests with a camera and his beloved dog, soaking up the richness of nature and the people who were very much a part of that nature, and then creating soulful prose out of the essence of this experience.

'Do you have any of his novels?' Dad asks. Yeah, I do have. More than that I want to tell dad that I'll be sharing a bit of the household expenses. But maybe this isn't the occasion. I'll tell him tomorrow.

My room. It's hot and humid. Fan's on. A quick shower. Sounds of the sea emanating from Moksha on Worldspace. Darkness. Soothing. I'm tired. Fall on the bed. Open your eyes after a while. It's already early morning.

Saturday. Day of rest. A strange kind of laziness. Of inertia. I watch time rush by-- in a moment it's late evening. A few errands get done. A bit of bloghopping. Watch TV. Sit and think about future plans. About fixing a few things. About cleaning the room--dusting every nook and corner.

There's a missed call. An unknown number. Although I don't get inquisitive I call up. Twice. No reply. Then a message from the same number. 'Sorry, I was trying to call up a friend.' I write back,' It's fine. I thought it was a friend'. I delete the messages. Then the same person messages back--'I was playing a game. Happy easter.' Then another message. 'Can I forward messages to you? I'm a student and I was just feeling bored.' And one more. I ring up, ready to blast. No reply. Half an hour later the phone rings. A girlish voice, or maybe a girl. 'Sorry for disturbing. Happy easter.'

Call up archana.

'How's the kid?'

'He's staring at me as I speak to you. Laughs a lot. Tries to turn and roll over......Do you miss him?'

'Yeah.'

'Just a few weeks more.'

Late night. A million stars up there. Power's gone. Darkness everywhere stretching upto the horizons. Cool breeze. As I gaze up, there's a sudden feeling of loneliness. A sort of helplessness, depression, lack of direction, of purpose. Something which I'd feel often, years ago when I'd loiter on the terrace at night. But why now? When everything seems to be settled and on track? I probe it hard. Nope.

'Why are you bored?'

'Don't know. Maybe because I have a lot of time on hand and nothing much to do. ......Tell me, don't you feel bored at all?'

'It's a luxury I can't afford. I'm on the opposite side. Lots to do. Not much time.'

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

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

'You look confused. Is everything ok?'

'Yeah. Everything's ok. Nothing to worry.'

The Road to nowhere.....

Paulo coelho says in 'Confessions of a piligrim'-- " I don't stack all those books that I've already read. What's the use of keeping these books which I may not read again? Who am I trying to impress with this display?'.

My cupboard is stacked with many books that I've finished reading and amidst them are a few books which are not yet opened. I have an emotional attachment to many of these books; and I also leaf through the finished pages once in a way. Hardly anyone comes to my room here, so there's no question of impressing any soul. Among these books are half a dozen novels by R.K. Narayan-- bought many ages ago, a bunch of books by Osho--mainly on Zen masters, a few collection of short stories, some inspirational books, one or two novels..........

I think, the most books that are sold over the counter of any bookstore or on any pavement belong to the 'How to' category. How to do this, do that, learn english, speak fluently, become assertive, make friends, stop worrying, become rich, earn a million bucks, write better, even grow tall....I've bought atleast a dozen such books and read another 2 dozen in the past ten years. The mantra of success appears as elusive as ever.

There's a book on my shelf--'Unlimited Power'--which I'd purchased nearly 5 years ago and had diligently read, the priniciples of which I'd tried to implement. Most of the advice from such books, although well-intended, is either far-fetched or too generalistic and vague to be applied for successful results. I know people who swear by 'Think and grow rich' or 'How to make friends and influence people'--and their financial status or friendship quotient is anybody's guess.

As far as self-help is concerned, one of the best advice I've come across is from Dave pollard. He says--'Why do we do what we do? We first do things that are a must. Then we do those that are easy. And finally, those that are fun. If a job doesn't fall in any of these categories, it'll never get done.'

I've been chewing on this advice for the past couple of days as I wonder about all those self-help manuals I bought, all those plans and goals I set for myself, and all the lofty ideals I've dreamt of achieving. Do they fall in the Must, Easy or Fun category? To make any goal or a dream a reality, maybe it should first fall in one of these. Until then, it's doomed to remain as it is--just a wisp of dream.

(Why is brushing teeth every morning not a goal--but it gets done without fail? It's a Must--you can't go out without doing this. Make it a goal and it falls flat)

I understand that no amount of advice can help until the desire for a better living arises from within. And no, you can't ignite that desire by reading ' How to develop a desire for success?' You need to arrive at the answer yourself. (Don't ask, How to arrive!)

I'm here, can't you see?

There's a spate of burglaries in our neighbourhood. At least three families lost their solar panels on a single night. These panels cover the bulk of the cost of a solar water-heater--without them, the heater apparatus is just a drum with some pipes stuck into it. Eversince this happened, our nights have become a bit uneasy and tense. Our solar heater is mounted on top of my room in the second floor. A little noise on top, maybe the rustling of the coconut branches, or a stray cat meandering about and I'm all ears, planning my next move, wondering what to do if there are actually some guys on the terrace, with spanners and screwdrivers. Call the police! Ring up my brother-in-law who lives in the first floor. Or go out with the wooden club in hand, like a superman (and get clubbed!).

A Relaxed saturday. Feel like just lying on the bed, watch the ceiling endlessless and do Nothing.

It happened once when I was watching the Movie 'Recruit'. Al pacino is a recruiter for CIA and Collin farrell is a young rookie. In one scene, Al pacino tells farrel,'You have only one overdriving need--to win my approval'. Farrell explodes, denies it but we know that it's true. Watching that scene left me with a sense of unease-- maybe I was similar to farrel, waiting for approval from someone--some father figure or a person in authority. It wasn't a striking feeling but somewhat subdued, ringing somewhere in the background.

Then 'The New Earth' confirmed and revealed many of my own doubts about myself. Almost 3 chapters are devoted to the 'Ego' in this astonishing book--you can't wade through a paragraph without keeping the book aside and reflecting on what you've just read and relate it to yourself. Many of my seemingly innocent and routine activities now looked as though they were intended to win approval and acceptance from those around me. I could easily accept that most of the time I was (and still am) led by the Ego. However, before those lessons could sink in and become transformative, I'd moved ahead to other chapters, skimming only on the surface.

This article again reminds me of my hidden need for approval and how my activities and motivations are fuelled by this need. Maybe it's routine and normal too in our modern world. But as Tolle says, madness is so prevalent that it's accepted as normal. To create a new society, to bring in a New earth, you need to break out of this madness and among others, come out of this need.

How difficult is it to be free of the need to win approval and acceptance? Maybe it takes enormous courage(or fearlessness) to stick to your convictions and not be bothered about what others think about you! How wonderful would it be to be led by your inner light and not by the opinions of those around you! This rebellion isn't a false one--just to assert yourself and prove to yourself that you are a rebellious spirit(that's another game of the ego, maybe). You rebel not because you want to or you have to prove something to yourself or to others. Your rebellion is spontaneous, a way of living, stemming out of your deep convictions. That's the way you are-- a free spirit.

This freeness shines through occasionally when I act or think just for its own sake, without keeping any end in mind, without bothering about any opinions. It happens sometimes during my blogging hours, where I write just for the joy of writing. But these occasions are rare. Maybe I need to think deeply about my own motivations and beliefs before I can find the true rebellious spirit hidden within. Maybe I need to go deeper into silence to find this inner calm and begin living in its light.

Old boy

'Look, I don't want to gossip,' the poet says. 'Tell me quickly what happened.'

The whole drama has left us sick.'This is what happened....' I begin and we chat for a while. I finish talking, cut the line, switch off the TV, turn off the lights and go to bed.

We were speaking about the oldboy all along. Mostly not so good things. The next morning, on the way to the office I meet the oldboy near the park. Inspite of the previous day's fall and subsequent injury, he appears composed. I greet him. We speak mundane things for a while. He brings up the event of the previous day and I console him. I speak words of encouragement, say things like,'This could've happened to anyone, don't worry,' etc.

It's a long story. Oldboy was a part of our lives until yesterday--a close friend, someone with whom we shared our dreams, joys and sorrows. All of us had lofty ideals and were travellers on the path towards realizing them. In short, oldboy was a family member, rather more than a family member. He isn't one any longer.

There's a relaxed yet tense atmosphere in the office. The appraisals are over-- some are happy, some are quitting, some are contemplating to quit and the rest are biding their time--not knowing what to do other than slog. I find time to reflect in between work, amidst blog hopping hours, in between bitter coffee mugs. The oldboy is on our minds.

Sunday evening. After meditations, we gather and piece together the whole story. Old boy is a friend of six years yet we don't know him--rather we thought we knew him well. He'd become a part of our close circle of friends. We have great dreams to pursue, and an utopia to manifest. The spiritual world is our playground-- meditations and the pursuit of awakening is the goal. Amidst youngsters who jump corporations in pursuit of better salaries and who wear their 'globe-trotter' badges on their sleeves, we have friends who quit their jobs and abandon their promising careers in search of an Utopia. A commune of enlightened beings is our ideal. We look beyond the everyday reality and attempt to connect to the vast unknown. We introspect, reflect on our shortcomings and make efforts to rid ourselves of our negativities. In short, we're seekers of an enlightened tomorrow, or as coelho says, the warriors of light. The old boy is one amongst us.

No, he isn't. He isn't one of us, not a fellow traveller but a guy with different travel plans. Behind the jovial, friendly and energetic facade lies a cunning mind. He aspires not to become a part of the commune but to rule it, not to walk the dusty path with friends but to command over them. Lies, deceit, rumour-mongering--everything is game towards this end. To stand in the limelight and grow tall, he doesn't hesitate to stoop to any level. In pursuit of growth, he can destroy any garden like a weed. And in a single shot, he loses us all.

I remember many of my conversations with him and find newer meanings now. Behind his praises, affection and show of humility, could there be a hidden agenda? She remembes, 'He'd say " Sister, I'm at your feet, bless me.' I don't know what his intentions were.'

You trust someone whole-heartedly and suddenly one day, you realise that you've been dealing with a mask. The biggest blow is on your ability to trust. What's the guarantee that the next guy in line isn't wearing a mask? The oldboy was just like you and me--if he can turn turkey, so can you and I. The next time you interact with anyone else, you stop in your tracks and think twice--is this fellow trustworthy? Or is he another oldboy?

This event also prompts you to redefine your own attitude and behaviour. Whenever you talk about a friend behind his back, it's the oldboy in you who's speaking. When you hesitate to point out a friend's mistake and instead choose to be sugary sweet with him so that you are accepted, it's the traces of oldboy inside that's working. In that way, the oldboy hasn't gone away--he remains within all of us, in different quantities.

A bitter taste. Sorry for losing a friend. Happy for getting rid of a future headache.

A Personal Note

'What will happen to me?'

'Nothing', says Ravishankar.' Until now you are verticle. One day, you'll become horizontal under the ground. That's what will happen to you. Think beyond yourself'.

Then a line from Spiderman--'There are things here that are bigger than you and me.............'

And one of our directors is leaving the company. The CEO says, 'The show will go on, whatever happens, whoever leaves.....'

Inspite of the heaviness within, inspite of the vaccum, amidst the grief, I'll say this:
The show is bigger than you or me. We are tiny droplets in this ocean.

This slap will be remembered for long.

Real, yet so fragile

Dad's not well. He sometimes feels weak and dizzy--last week he stumbled and fell down, hurting his head. Mom tells me to wake up early, not at my usual 8, but before 7, so that I can accompany Dad to the nearby hospital for a checkup.

Then we plan to buy a house that's under-construction. I speak to the owner, discuss and haggle with the rate, and everything is still in a phase of uncertainty when one morning I visit my in-laws . There's an empty plot just next to theirs' and it's a small hillock. They suggest that I buy this site and build a house there, instead of going for the other building. I ponder over it.

I get up early. It's a pleasant feeling, the sun's not up yet and the surroundings are a hazy white and fresh. I have an early breakfast and go with Dad.....

Just before leaving for office I sit back, pondering over the above situations.

The one involving 'buying the house' was a dream that I saw early in the morning. It was so real and lucid--and never once did I doubt its authenticity, as long as I was inside the dream. Once I woke up, I realised that it was just unreal.

And sitting here, I compare the dream with the 'real events' and see no difference between them, whatsoever. The pleasant early morning feeling, my accompanying dad to the hospital, my plans of buying a hillock....they are no different from one another. All are events and they are just as real as long as I'm there, in the thick of the action. Once I come out of it and sit at a distance and look back, they are just wisps--distant, fleeting, unreal.....

I remember a story of Lao-tzu where, he dreams that he's a butterfly and the next morning he starts wondering whether he dreamt a butterfly or whether the butterfly is dreaming now that it is Lao-tzu. Break through the surface and you find a vast, deep ocean. The everyday reality that we're familiar with may not be the only one that exists.

If I look back at last week's events, they appear no more than one of my nightmares. Real, as long as you are there. Come out of it and it's gone. But most of my life is spent in this 'Unreal' world of events and situations. Once in a way I wake up and ponder over the seriousness or futility of everything but almost always, I'm inside-- stuck up and playing the game. And when there's a distance, it's a very funny feeling. It's like you've killed someone in your dream and the police are chasing you...... you run, feel terribly anxious, frightened, your heart's racing--and the alarm rings....you wake up with a cold sweat...after a few seconds, you laugh at the whole absurdity.

Life appears absurd at moments but these moments are rare.

Yet I cannot deny and shun this temporary reality until I'm anchored in something that's permanent, something that's authentic. Unless I know and experience a higher reality, I'll always be playing this game, waking up once in a way to laugh and again get drowned in the forgetfulness and go on playing the meaningless game...

That permanent reality, what the mystics call as enlightenment, is what I want. Maybe it's what we all want and seek at some deeper level, although we may not know it. We delude ourselves with irrelevant things--possesions, security, validation from others, desires, money, name--and deep down, we're always thirsty, we're always seeking and striving, always unfulfilled. Nothing satisfies us. We seek and chase everything and anything all our lives and one day the damn game just ends.

'If you want enlightenment, you'll have it. Our wish isn't strong enough. If you truly aspire for it, you'll get it.'

How do I develop this strong wish? How to pursue enlightenment, with tremendous passion? How do I wake up, never to fall asleep again?

I continue to ponder, as I slowly drown in the everyday game of life.

An eventful day

A gut-wrenching scene from the movie 'Syriana', where CIA Agent George clooney is captured and tortured. His nails are pulled off one by one, with a cutting plyer. Just imagining the pain would make my hairs stand on end, would make me shudder. Well, I get to experience the pain first hand.

Early morning, while parking my bike, the side-stand hits my toe and pulls out the entire nail. Ahh, delicious pain! Luckily, much of the nail comes out and the doctor has to do a few incisions to remove the remaining part. I think I'll remember this for quite some time.

Late evening. There's a call from a traffic cop. A year and a half ago, when Mouli passed away, three of us had signed in as witnesses during his postmortem. Now the case has come for a hearing and we have to depose before the court.

I've never been to a court and all the judicial proceedures and drama that I'm familiar with is only through the movies. This one will be interesting.

And just before the cop called up, I was reflecting and recollecting the events on that particular day. I was remembering all of us waiting outside the mortuary, and how a few of us signed in the papers... Maybe it's a coincidence or maybe my psychic capabilities are getting activated(?????)

Then I get to watch two fantastic movies-- 'The Deep end of the ocean' and 'Just like heaven'. The Deep end... I can relate to it very well.......!