Who let the beast out?

I'm a story junkie. Infact we all are. Any significant incident, and you can trace it back to some familiar story, novel, movie where something similar could've happened. There's a novel about armageddon, wherein a scientist discovers a faraway star that's speeding towards earth on a collision course. He tries to transfer this vital information to the concerned authorities without letting the general public know about it. But somehow the news leaks out, and as the government tries to find measures to deflect the star and save our planet, mayhem breaks out. The media portrays this future event as the end of the world and civilization. People go berseck. All morality and fear is lost as the beast hidden inside man comes out. If we're going to die tomorrow, why care about anything, any consequences, any guilt or any hell-heaven? It's a bizzare story but absolutely feasible. Completely normal, healthy people can go mad and they have done it.

Last week, when Dr. rajkumar, the popular kannada movie hero passed away at 78, the way people behaved brought this story into memory. The beast had come out and there was going to be no control over it. Six people including a policeman died in the mayhem and several others were injured. Life came to a standstill in otherwise unsympathetic, carefree Bangalore. The visual media showed live pictures of the mob clashing with the police, pelting stones at a policevan and attacking a police constable who was trying to escape the stones.

It was not the end of the world when rajkumar died but what prompted these people to go berseck is still unknown. Maybe the mob needs a reason, however trivial it may be, to forget all the learnt ways of civic behaviour and go back to its primitive roots. Such extreme behaviour was visible even some 15 years ago when, Rajkumar was at his peak and anything said against him wasn't tolerated by his ardent fans.

Maybe the beast is hidden within all of us and is only waiting for an opportunity to emerge out. It needs a slight prompting, ---religion, caste, hero-worship, nationality, etc provide that impetus for the beast to emerge. I can take care of the animal inside me and ensure that under no circumstance does this negative energy come out. But if the same is happening with the other person, with a mob in the streets, what can I do? Or what can we, as commoners do about it?

Thoughtful....?

I find 10 minutes to sit and meditate. The clock's ticking fast, it's almost 9 and i've to hurry to office. But still i try to forget the busyness and hurried pace of life and close my eyes. Soon i'm drawn in into the calm and soothing inner world. It's like a womb i left long ago, i don't want to step out of it, i'd give anything to stay there forever....

Sometime back, i wrote a small piece on introversion here. I also linked to an article published in Atlantic online. Strangely, many bloggers had written about this same article, at around the same time. And as it happens sometimes,the responses and comments that were written by others were more interesting than the main post (It happens with me. Nick writes good comments to my posts, so does val.) I found a very interesting comment(by Nishant ramachandran) on extroverts and introverts in this place, which was almost like a commentary on human behaviour. I wanted to link to it earlier but am doing it now. It's worth reading over and over and contemplating. Whoever trivialises blogging should read this.

I'm in the company of death, once again. A close friend's mother passes away two days back. He stays quite far away, and i can't bring myself to call him up and console him( how's it done--i'm horrible at it). I rationalise that he could be in sorrow and not in a mood to talk, or that he's busy with all the duties, etc, but archana urges me to just call up and talk anything. I ring him up this morning, and after an awkward silence, ask him, how are things at home and how it all happened. He opens up, talks at length about his mom's ailment, how he wished for a painless death for her, how his dad's feeling lost now, etc. I just listen. He continues to speak. I remember an idea i picked up in some book( Must be 'Healing words'). It says, the first and last thing you do in such a situation is to keep quite and listen. Become an ear. That's enough. I follow it. After 10 minutes i keep down the phone knowing well that he's a little less burdened now. Stangely i also feel unburdened and light.

You can't have enough of time, isn't it? My usual complaint is that i don't have time for important things in my life, and all my time is spent in earning my bread or doing trivial things. It's strange where you find the antidote to your troubles. Overheard this as i was drinking tender coconut juice by the roadside this morning:- ' if you want to do something, just do it NOW. Make up your mind and you'll automatically find time to do it. You'll not find leisure time to pursue all of those dreams--you need to squeeze time in between all the routine works and schedules and start pursuing your goals. Otherwise, one day you'll be on your deathbed, and all these dreams will still be on paper. Do it now, or just shut up.'

Well said. Will try to follow it.

An ordinary life

It's late evening. The tree over there is filled with pink flowers. This park is always full of people yet it's also very serene and silent. Those who come here seem to follow an unwritten law---never make noise when you are with nature. An old man sits nearby on a bench, eyes closed, face tightened up in deep thought. Why is he here? What's going on behind those tightly shut eyes? A couple sit at a distance, playing with their one-year old. The baby is chubby and wide eyed. Archana points out to him and says, 'Look, that kid is staring at you.'

A new day. A new year. Ugadi is the day when the new year starts for Hindus. There's a festive atmosphere in our houses even though we live in the modern world, in an IT hub. The roots still exist although your wings are strong. Mango leaves are strung together and hung on the door. The portico is cleaned and Rangoli is drawn in different designs in front of the doorstep. Children are given an oil bath and later they dress up in new clothes. Sweets are prepared and some people visit their friends and relatives to exchange greetings. Elobarate rituals are conducted in the houses of the pious but mostly ( like in our house), there's a simple worship of the household diety. Then the food is offered to the deceased elders(it's believed that they come in the form of crows to eat them) and then we feast on the delicacies.

In the evening, many people throng the temples to worship God on this auspicious day. In North India, the sites of piligrimage are overcrowded with devotees eager to take a holy dip in the sacred waters. This bath is supposed to remove all your sins(or karmas) and ensure liberation. People eat jaggery and neem to symbolise that life is both sweet and bitter and you need to accept both with equanimity. We welcome the new year and offer our respects to this personality.

Festivals draw us together and rekindle the joyous spirit in us. To be joyous and happy is our nature even if the modern world is hell bent upon dulling us into pessimism. And you don't need a festival to be happy--you can do that everyday. Maybe that's what Zen is all about.

Why does Zen attract me so much? A friend joked that i must've been born in Japan in some previous life and must have been a zen monk. I first read about Zen in one of Osho's books--'And the flowers showered'. Osho has the knack of making even the mundane very attractive but still I found an immediate affinity with that philosophy. When Bodhidharma took buddhism to china in the 6th century and, it later fused with taoism and went to Japan, an entire new spiritual path took birth. This religion also found its practitioners in the warriors of Japan, the samurai, who found many a parellel between their way of life and this dynamic religion. Zen has flowered since then and today, it has spread its wings outside japan. Countless books have been written about this religion---To put it succintly, it is all about living in the now, in this moment, and celebrating life. Zen doesn't believe in God---it says, God is this life, this moment, this existence now.

You are already enlightened, but have forgotten it. To remind you of your own enlightenment, and enabling you to live in that heightened sense of awareness is the aim of Zen. To find fulfillment and oneness with the dullest thing and also the most subtle thing---to feel oneness with the chirping birds and flowing river....

Two months back, when I was sitting on the banks of the River Godavari, my memory was filled with vivid images from the past --rather an imagined past. In my childhood, I'd come across a beautiful novel about an orphaned young man growing up near the banks of river Godavari. It was the story of coming of age of this young man, who finds inspiration and a zest to live in a girl ,slightly elder to him, but married. He admires her but can't have her. She knows of his love but stays distant, encouraging him in a motherly way. Providence separates them--fifty years hence, when he has reached the pinnacle of success and fulfillment, he sets out in search of this woman who inspired him towards great heights... this was the river that witnessed the flow of events in the writers imagination. In a way, this piece of nature had inspired the writer to etch out those characters and as I sat in that silence, I felt I was that young man--aspiring to reach heights and yearning for an inspiration to set out towards impossible dreams!

The park where I'm sitting right now was once such an inspiration to me. In those days, I was struggling with my characters and storylines, and then I'd sit here in the early mornings or late evenings, listening to the birds chirping in the bamboo shade, watching people walk past. I'd observe these people and imagine what their lives could be, what drove them,what made them smile or walk with downcast faces, what made them sit alone in a park staring into nothing... Maybe someone also sat at a distance observing me, calculating about my motivations, thinking why i look so hasseled and lost...

Today i'm here again after a long gap. The same people hurry past each other--jogging, walking briskly, exercising as they move, meandering leisurely. Equations have changed in my life. I wonder about the aimless way of life I lead in those days, and compare that with the contented and inspired atmosphere i find in myself these days. A friend's advice springs up into memory--'When you are contented, when you are ecstatic, think about death!' Hmmm....My mind wanders towards death, that of others, that of my own,.... and automatically, i think of life, of birth, of this wonder called creation...

Two days back, I reach home late at night and find archana staring intensly at a black object in her hand. I sit next to her puzzled and she points to a white speck on that black object and says:--'You know what this is. They say, the heartbeat of this speck is 112 beats per minute. It's already 6 weeks old and look how tiny it is.' She's beaming!

We are expecting our first baby by this year-end. Me, a pappa! I know, there are millions out there who've passed through this phase, but still it's special. Special because, for me, this is the first experience. Me feels warm. Me feels joyous. Me feels pampered and cuddled. Like a puppy. Mmmmmmm........

Just like that

Archana has a different glow in her these days. She's the same girl I knew but still she's different, somehow.

You are disturbed when your mighty hero falls, isn't it? In movies, as in life, we're eternally hopeful. We'd like our hero to ride into sunset with the lady after destroying the villains and setting right all wrongs. When a hero falls, something in you falls too--a hope, a dream collapses. The hero represents your truimphs, he can do all that you only wished you could do, reach where you only hoped you'd reach. His downfall tramples a tiny flower somewhere in the garden of your heart.

Feel sad everytime Sachin tendulkar fails. His downcast face, slow march towards the pavillion somehow symbolises your own failure in life. Sachin should triumph but he's human too. When his stumps are shattered and he looks back bewildered, we are there-- in his bewilderment. In his victory, he makes our hearts flutter with pride. In his failure he comes close to us. He too is one amongst us, afterall.

Until recently, Dad had two old tape-recorders on which he played his favourite songs of yesteryears. Or sometimes, he'd just flip on the radio and listen to the non-stop songs played on radiocity. By any means, the music system played more noise than music, and after you put in a casette, it would start groaning after a minute or two. And the only person who never seemed to bother about it was dad--he'd continue to listen whatever came out of the stereo .

Last sunday, as we drove back home from the 'village', we purchased a modest new stereo, got a few of dad's favourite casettes(Manna de and gulzar),and presented it to him. After some hesitation, he accepted the gift, gathered the old systems, packed them and put them away in the attic and plugged in the new stereo.

Now the music that streams out of dad's room is without any jarring notes.

You can feel it but can't define it for sure. Time. And when it hurries past you in a tremendous hurry, at times you wonder about your own life, your goals, your values----all in relation to time. You know that life is all about change, one day is not like the previous one, you'll grow up, move ahead, have new experiences, acquire things, make friendships, lose people, lose peace, gain wisdom, worry, smile, hurry.....but is it all there is to life? Is what you see on the surface the only thing available to us? Is there a depth, a different dimension to life? And if there is, what stops you from discovering it and diving deep?

What will be the routine of a 67 year old person, who has lived a full life? Looking at my dad, i'd say--Just relax and chill out. Take good care of your health, read leisurely, listen to good music, watch loads of tv, go to libraries, laze off, visit relatives, play with grandchildren at home..... Why would anyone think about realising new dreams at that age? Who would think about having a vision and inspiring youngsters to dream similarly? And who would work tirelessly to achieve impossible dreams at an age when your faculties are slowly dimming and you need to slow down and spend the rest of your days peacefully?

When i look at one such person, my zest for life soars up and i feel, one hundred years is too short a time for one life. A few minutes spent with him and the most ardent cynic will come back with renewed love and affinity for life. It's a pity that i can't spend much time with him and have to return to my day to day life, confined to the smallness of my comfort zone. When the whole world prods you to add more to your life in terms of quantity, and you are pushed into the competition and mad rush of the materialistic world, there are a few individuals who inspire you to look within and find light. When life in general looks bleak and downcast there are only a few people who can raise your awareness to unknown heights and bring out the eternal youth hidden inside you.

I wish i could be with my master for much longer durations and learn to look at life with new eyes. I wish i could get in touch with the unknown, stretch myself and spread my wings towards new destinations.

Yeah, i will do that someday, but how I wish that day was today!

Sketches ........!

Ravi is a person of many talents and facets. The most endearing quality he has is that he can wholeheartedly laugh at himself, just as he makes fun of the absurdity of life at times. Like all artists he's more into himself than the outer world, and perhaps, out of that ocean of creativity hidden within, he etches out his beautiful sculptures and drawings. And like a true artist, he's more concerned with making his concepts clear to the layman than hanker after recognition and applause.

This week he has an exhibition of his drawings at 'Time and Space Gallery', on Lavelle road.(connecting M.G.Road and Vittal malya road). Art enthusiasts in bangalore and all of us who wish to open our minds to new horizons should visit the exhibition between 15 and 21st of this month and also listen to ravi as he talks about his art, ideas and inspiration.

Religion of hatred and destruction? Why---Islam of course! Wit has an interesting perspective on this issue.

Comments to our posts! Who doesn't want them? Many times these comments sprak fresh ideas in our otherwise nascent brains or we enter into healthy(?) discussions over some issues. Well, here's an arguement over why you should disable the comments section.

A friend's dad who's suffering from kidney failure is in a critical condition---he's in the ICU for the past 4 days. When I met my friend yesterday, he spoke about the severe pain his dad has to bear with, and about the doctors having given up hope, etc. 'We're all prepared for the worst,' he said,'but it's difficult to see my dad suffering.'

I said,'What is everyone waiting for?' He explained something but I realised the insensitivity in my words only a bit later.

The elderly man had lived life to the fullest and now death was at his doorstep. But it would be an agonising death, not an easy one.Those who were around him, who loved him, couldn't make sure that his departure would be a smooth one, without much pain and suffering. The doctors had said earlier that this was the rarest of the rarest case, and they couldn't diagnose what was wrong with the patient. 'It's like a case study for us', they'd said. Wonderful!! And the relatives from far and near were trickling in, to have a last glimpse of the dying man. Good!! The sons must've been torn between their eagerness to keep their dad alive as long as possible, hoping for some miraculous recovery and on the other hand, the agony of seeing him suffer, praying that he pass away as quickly and painlessly as possible.

What's the best course of action in such a situation, when it's clear that nothing can be done? Do you endorse euthanasia and remove the life-support system? Or do you go for the best medical treatment and keep him alive as long as possible?

Two questions still linger in my mind. One, if the dying person was not an oldman in his 70s but a small child, would we still oscillate between euthanasia and prolonged treatment?

Two-- isn't it funny how our perceptions change once a person is on the deathbed--how we view him differently when he was healthy and how we wish for 'certain' things because he's sick and beyond recovery?

What are the thoughts of that elderly person? What would be my state of thinking and living if I end up there?

Yeah, i know i'm late on this....

Most of us have heard about Gaurav sabnis. For those who came in late----He was an IBM employee in Mumbai, a regular blogger, and someone who lost his job last year because of a blog post. We've heard about people losing their jobs because of the contents on their blogs. This is similar but more interesting than the rest.

This drama started when a little known magazine, Jam, published an article slamming the claims made by a management institute, IIPM. This institute had given ads to the effect of 'dare to dream beyond the IIMs', and had made dubious claims about its faculty, placements, the credentials of its head, etc. All that gaurav did was to link up to this article by Jam magazine in his blog and write a post on it. The result : he recieved a legal notice from IIPM claiming damages to the effect of Rs.125 crores! IIPM also threatened to hold a demonstration outside IBM's office and burn 1000 thinkpads supplied by IBM to IIPM, if gaurav didn't remove the offensive article from his blog. Gaurav writes about that episode and why he decided to resign from IBM. What's interesting is that, soon there were scores of other bloggers who supported Gaurav sabnis and wrote posts deriding the autocratic behaviour of IIPM. In the coming months, the latter surreptiously changed its ads thus proving gaurav and jam magazine right.

Whether this caused a dent in IIPM's reputation, or did it stop it from carrying on it's tall tales is debatable. It definetly caused a stir. And what matters is that this guy had the guts to take a stand and stick to it. He made a difference, however small, and gave a reputation and respectability to a sometimes trivialised phenomenon---blogging.

What we do here in our posts is a simple thing---give form to our thoughts and send it out into the world. It surely touches someone, inspires a few, provokes some thoughts, informs and entertains, warns about bigger issues---like journalism, but without the formalities and complications. A blog is a mini-journal and a blogger, a journalist. What he says matters. A Blog is a weapon which, when properly sharpened and used, has the potential to cut through many a weed.

Let's remember Gaurav the next time we're tempted to quit blogging.

Mmmmmm......!

Yesterday she came to our house.

Now she's married, has a kid and has put on a slight bit of happy weight. Fifteen years ago she was a neighbour in my native village and i was reeling under a terrible crush on her. Probably she was the most beautiful girl i'd set eyes on until then. She was a friend of my sisters and hence came to our house very often. What drove me mad was that she seemed to be more interested in me than i was in her. When i could contain myself no longer, i fought over my habitual shyness, wrote about my affection for her on a piece of paper, and with a pounding heart, passed it on to her.

Her dad had taken his life some years ago after he was humiliated by his superiors. Fifteen years later, just last year, her mom follows the same route--she jumps into a well. Nobody knows why.

No, she doesn't look sad. She's still the same mischievous girl i knew so long ago.

Here's a Good article on Blogging!

An unlikely place where you learn an important lesson of life:- a cricket coach's interview!

Greg chappel had this to say about dhoni--'That guy has no nerves. He's fearless. When you don't fear failure, there's no limit to what you can achieve.'

Wow!!! That's cool.

Recently a friend was wailing about how, a typical party animal like him was now confined to solitude and loneliness ( he became a dad last year and his child, now a little over a year doesn't leave him even for a moment). I know him as a typical chatterbox, an 'outdoor' guy who loves to mix with people, get interested in their lives ( much to their irritation, at times)--in other words, someone who'd go mad without company.

Such behaviour is quite amusing for me, since i don't do it and i've always wondered at the motivation and drive of an extrovert. Do they feel restless if they don't get to be in a group, mix with people, listen (do they?), chatter about everything under the sun? Can an extrovert live peacefully with himself? Are we conveniently divided into self-obsessed morons and people oriented bums? Is there a middle ground--something like a middlevert? (Jen used this term last year to describe herself) ?

According to a psychiatrist, introverts have greater brain stimulation and hence they love to keep things calmed down around them, tend to be alone, and quiet. Extroverts have a lesser stimulation and hence seek that stimulation in the outside world.

This is new(maybe not). An extrovert can become an introvert and vice-versa. One can be an extrovert at times and introverted at others. And there's no such thing as who's better, or what state is better. Both are different states and you can't do a shit about this difference, nor can you judge who's better. Extroverts, being typical chatterboxes, tend to sympathise with the aloof guy,and the silent person may think that all those chatterboxes are restless morons. But it's good if you have the best of both worlds-- the communication skills and social skills of an extrovert and the deep introspection and peace of an introvert. Both halves make a whole, make you a complete person, maybe.

All these thoughts arose after watching this silent girl today morning. She's no longer aloof now. She moves around in a group, smiles, chatters a bit---she's out of the shell.

This is a fantastic article on introversion published in Atlantic online.


Watched 'The passion of Christ' on starmovies, two days back. Maybe the film focussed too much on the human aspect of christ, his suffering being detailed out inch by inch. The resurrection part was just touched upon. There's a debate about Mary magdalene and her relationship to christ, and also whether christ actually died on the cross.

I remember Osho mention in one of his lectures that Christ suddenly disappeared around the age of 13 and came back at 30 to teach his gospel. Where was he during those 17 years? It's said that he'd come to India to study and learn in the great universities of those times. Maybe he attained enlightenment during those years.

Also there's a tomb of Jesus christ in Kashmir, and Kashmiris claim that Christ lived in India and passed away here. The speculation is that Jesus never died on the cross; after crucification and resurrection he came to India, lived here and left his body at around the age of 67.

Christ and every other master probably came down to remind us about our own inherent divinity, and to show us the way out of our own self-created miseries and the way to our source. It's a pity that we, who call ourselves the followers of these divine souls, distort their teachings to suit our fancy and give vent to our hidden darkness in the name of our loyalty to the masters.

As hariharan and lewis sang in 'Colonial Cousins' --" Come back as Jesus....come back as Rama...come back as Allah..come back as anyone."

When do we as humanity, shun the narrow interpretations of the followers of Jesus, Rama and Mohammed and look at the light these masters brought with them? How long will it take?

Something extraordinary ( from whiskey river )to end this week....

Wisdom tells me i'm nothing
Love tells me i'm everything
In between the two, my life flows.

Dumb struck.........

Somehow the flow of thoughts has stopped. I'm searching for words but nothing seems to come up. Feel like standing alone under the sky with this friend....



Or just walk silently in this solitude




Maybe, become one with the whole....lose one's identity....merge back....



Or drive into nothingness, into an unknown void....




I'll write again only when i feel desperate to express.

Otherwise, this silence is soothing.......

Rang de, among other things.

Monday morning. I'm getting ready to leave for work. It's almost nine and the breakfast is getting ready. Dad leisurely reads the morning newspaper as he waits for the second round of tea. The atmosphere is bright and soft here, and a melody from yesteryears from the radio adds to this aura of comfort.

Dad is having the best of his time, reading leisurely, writing short stories, attending cultural programmes, sitting in old dusty libraries for hours, playing with grandchildren, watching television---his health is good except for one or two minor glitches, and he's free of all worries and responsibilities. This wasn't the case until a couple of years ago when we all were sick with a number of problems and Dad had to bear the burden of most of it. Today he looks a contented man.

Sometimes i wish i could carry that comfort and content with me as i go out into the world. I can make the most of my life and achieve all my goals and fulfill my wishes, but at the end of the day I'm tense, tired and drained of vitality. I'll be looking forward to hit the bed and lose myself in the comfort of sleep before waking up to fight my way through another day of struggle. Maybe I could fight my battle but with a sense of comfort and serenity that comes to a man who doesn't care much about the outcome of his fight and just enjoys every moment of the battle. I wish I could tap into that serenity and peace that's within me, irrespective of the outside circumstances.

I wish i could be in tune with that calm strength all the time.

Ravishankar's spiritual gathering ended on Sunday. People commented that it was all glorification of one person, and nothing worthwhile can be achieved by such extravaganza, blah, blah, blah..... but what was noticeable was that one person could pioneer and gather so many people on one platform for a positive purpose. When was the last time that all the people of this world united, irrespective of their religious and cultural differences under a common spiritual umbrella?

Whatever be the dilutions and shortcomings of Ravishankar's 'Art of living' movement, his effort and vision are commendable.

Watched 'Rang de basanthi' at last. This time it was with a bunch of friends, some of whom insisted that we watch this movie together. This is Indian mainstream cinema at its best---thoroughly enjoyable and well-worth your time and money. Despite a few minor glitches, this movie touched a chord within all of us with its message of 'A generation awakens'.

It tells the story of a british girl who comes to india to make a documentary on some well-known heroes of the freedom struggle. She finds a few 'free-wheeling' friends to act out the roles of Azad, sukhdev, bhagat singh etc, and these guys who're enjoying their youth in dance, booze, fun and frolick are gradually sucked into the roles they portray. The outstanding sacrifices and courage of the freedom fighters begins to rub off on these youngsters of the sms generation. The turning point arrives when one of their friends meets death because of the callousness of those in power, and when the same powerful people try to suppress the growing voices against them, the hidden fighter awakens in these youngsters. The trickle that started with just acting out a role of revolutionaries for a documentary becomes a raging river and soon the friends find mutual inspiration and a way to send out their message to those who matter in a hard-hitting way. The end--whether it's tragic or positive--is upto the viewer to decide.

The next evening, when we sat discussing our spiritual endeavours and the need to gear up ourselves to take up our Master's work, a friend remembered Rang de. He said,' The revolutionaries of the freedom movement had a common goal, a purpose, and that spurred them on together and brought out the best in them. How wonderful it would be if all of us had something similar to push us forward ?'

We discussed, argued, hemmed-hawed, disagreed and retired for the day.

It takes a moment to plant a seed. And years of nurturing to grow it into a mighty tree. Maybe the seed was within all along and it got spurred from its sleep on this occasion. Maybe the seed is within everyone. What does it take to nurture this seed and grow it into a mighty tree? What converts a small trickle into a life-nurturing river? What does it take to inspire one another in a common purpose, to keep aside all our differences, nurture one anothers strengths and reach out to something outstanding, something extraordinary?

Are we destined to live out our lives as it comes along? Or is this sms, blogging generation destined for greater things---beyond the imagination and dreaming capacity of cynics? How do we unite, gear up and surge ahead towards our purpose--whatever that might be!

You never know your possibilities. You never know what you are capable of achieving.

Passing thoughts

I'd browsed through a few pages of this book a few years ago but never got to finish it or grasp its essence. Yesterday afternoon, when i opened this book and glanced at the introduction, this passage caught my eye--

"For nearly two years, i lived a very difficult life with no job, no relations, no home and no proper social identity. I'd sit on park benches but living in a state of indescribable ecstacy"

He is speaking of his state of being when, after an intense turmoil and suffering, he accidentally experiences the ultimate, what the mystics call as Samadhi. And the rest of his experiences and the essence of his philosophy and teaching-- he has put together in this book-- 'The Power of Now'.

Started reading this and will write more about it subsequently.

*
I need the comfort of a group, however much i may deny it or assert the powerfulness of my personality and individualness. I need friends and people who value me and have faith in my abilities. Though i've been a kind of loner all along, i feel restless without this recognition and acceptance of peers. Is this a negative trait or an acceptable positive quality found in most of us?
Sometimes mom talks of death, her death, in a matter of fact manner. Last week i told her that i'm going to buy a new tv set for myself and archana, because we don't get to see our favourite programmes( Mom and dad are glued in front of the tv in the living room on all days on prime time, watching their favourite serials). Mom said:-'Wait for some years, and then you can have this tv for yourself.'

It's funny--once you grow old, you think of death, your death but when you're young, it's never in your mind. Maybe it's a universal thing, i don't know. But does death happen that way--old people first and then younger ones as they grow old? Do we know when and where exactly death awaits us? Can i tell with absolute certainty if i'll be alive to see the sunset, today evening?

Death is the most fascinating thing that we never give a second thought to. Maybe our life and values acquire a whole new meaning if we consider the inevitability of death--ours and those of others we know-- and keep the awareness of death at the back of our minds always.

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And yeah, Dilip has so much good writing on his blog and such an array of fantastic links that i wish i had all the time in the world to read all of it. Ditto with Jay.

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It's Valentine's today. Nick wrote something interesting about it a few days ago and some of us responded. Hope he has a great time.
Can't think of anyone in India writing a post like nick did. We are still shackled in traditional shit.
Amidst Sena and bhajrang dal goons who've sworn to restore our sacred (?) tradition and punish all those who celebrate Valentines day, the need of the hour is to keep our heads cool and hearts warm. Let all these thugs hang themselves with their rubbish. Let there be love flowing between all of us, all the time.
*

Two things struck me yesterday, the impact of which is yet to sink in deeply. One is this:

"There's an immense world out there--the astral world-- unknown to most of humanity. We are only beginning to open our eyes to this new phenomenon. Many people who've touched this dimension or experienced it are writing about it--we need to read that literature. What we know as reality is only the tip of an iceberg---the real is huge and immense, beyond our wildest imagination. We need to get in touch with this Reality."

The other one, most of us know :

"A kind of blind faith--- we need to have this in our Spiritual master. The faith a child has in its mother--it will eat anything given by the mother even if it's poison.

"There's a very painful incident. We had two dogs and once they were struck with some rare disease, which would kill them bit by bit. The doctor suggested that we put the dogs to sleep, permanently. So there we were, standing with the leathal injection in hand. I called the dog, and it walked up to me with so much love, as if i was calling it to caress its back, not knowing that we were going to kill it."