Falling in Love

Walking through the hallowed portals of the Catholic University of Leuven in Belgium, once gets a feeling that a sound mind is of paramount importance to continue the tradition of intellectually understanding the workings of the Spirit in the Scriptures, the Church and in the world. Talking to some of the students of this prestigious institution, which can boast a quality that can only be compared to that of Biblicum or Gregorian in Rome, one gets a feeling that Christian (or Catholic to be precise) theology has unfortunately moved from the heart to the head. In fact that is precisely what one of the students had told me, that theological studies today in this University, is a mental work, and not so much that of the heart. That may be an understatement for a person who believes in sound intellectual study in theology, but one may ask the moot question, can theology be only intellectual, not touching the heart?

Every learning experience is an entry into the ever vibrant sea of wisdom; every time we make an effort to intellectually perceive or understand something, we are taking a dip at this bottomless sea; our intellectual quest may never be quenched, and our thirst for greater clarity may never dawn. Unfortunately wisdom is far removed from the processes of the mind or the intellect; wisdom is to do with the heart, and it strikes a chord with the heart, while intellect puts a person directly in touch with the mind, and disconnects from the workings of the senses, feelings of the heart. Learning cannot take place in a vacuum, true; but a mere intellectual exercise may leave a person high and dry at the end. True learning, or a dip into the ocean of wisdom, is a joyful experience, which one may wish to go back time and again; it may be something that may give that person enough stamina and strength to meet the humdrum reality of ever day life.

One thing is for sure, there is very little scope in the modern day teaching-learning situations, for one to really fall in love with what one is busy with almost night and day. If I am doing my masters degree in Systematic Theology, I cannot learn truly unless I fall in love with the subject I am learning. The curriculum, staff, books are to help me in this process of falling in love. They may only help me, but it is for me to really fall in love. Besides, the situation may be such that one is prevented from falling in love in reality; the circumstances may encourage one to enter into a Platonic love relationship, where the partners may appreciate one another at the head-level, not venturing to enter into the heart-level. Can we call it love? Sure, but of a different kind. This is surely not the kind of love that we long for.

In fact once I fall in love with what I am trying to grasp, I go beyond the prescribed books, assignments, tests, examinations, seminars… and in certain cases I may even become mad! No wonder many people who had tried to enter into their subject in a serious way, had found themselves in such situation; they had to be taken to psychiatrists. There is a danger in associating with the subject one loves and studies in an absolute way. But once I begin to love what I do, what I study, I enjoy every moment I spend with the subject, and cherish even when I am away from it. I am not shattered by the bad results in the examination or inability to get through tests and assignments, because I can very well cherish what I am in love with, without worrying too much about what I make out of this relationship. Sadly much of our learning stops at the level of the head, what someone called a mental jugglery.

Today I would like to pause for a while and recollect what I had been doing from the time I got out of my bed early in the morning. I am going to ask myself this simple question, to which I will try to answer as honestly as possible: have I been in love with what I had been doing throughout this day? It is possible that I did certain works or duties or assignments with greater love and care than some others. Let me enlist those that I enjoyed doing, I loved doing, and had taken great care in doing, and had driven great satisfaction. Let me also enlist those things I did out of compulsion, out of necessity, out of duty consciousness. It is not possible that we stop doing these latter things, because sometimes we may find ourselves with too few options. But it is within our power and choice to make the latter as interesting as the former. I may need to take each item for a few days, and transform it slowly into something that I love and enjoy doing it. That may be the secret of making my day as enjoyable as I can ever make it! (Brussels)

Ruins of Rome

Rome is full of ruins of all sorts. Pillars standing erect, looking up to the sky, walls standing by themselves, columns embracing the earth and refusing to move, faceless statues, handless fairies, noseless divine figurines, it is sometimes the sight one might witness after a ferocious war. But even in the ruins, one could see through the Roman elegance. There is life even in the ruins, which defy decay. There is something in the ruins which had seen the human species going through a similar process of decay, but unlike the Roman ruins, humanity is fast catching up with symptoms of irrevocable decay, that can cause serious damage to the species as such. Luckily the wise Romans have not decided to put together the broken pieces of buildings, squares, Forum, figurines… they have let them as they were centuries ago. A sense of embracing the past with all its failures and decay has kept the city a living witness to what it means to embracing one’s past.

Past is something that is irrevocable, and often one tends to fight with the past, and in the process failing to accept what is presented in the living present, or preparing to welcome the future with all its possibilities. Past is kept alive wrapped in our memories, and the present looks up to the past to find way for the future. But the Romans had a significant insight into the past – leave the past behind and bother about the present! Sometimes, or often, it is useless to try to piece the broken fragments of the past, and make meaning for our present. We may end up more frustrated and disappointed, when we realize that we have long forgotten the formula for such a putting together, or that a piece or two are missing that we are unable to get the complete picture of the road map we are to travel. This thought can only cloud our thinking, and the path may become all the more blurred.

It is hard to bid adieu to the past, especially the broken relationships, bitter memories which still haunt us, even after several attempts of reconciling to the facts, instances of betrayal and insincerity, moments of humiliation and insults; it is also hard to let them lie at the bottom of our hearts, and walk past them to live in the present. But have not the Romans done that? Maybe it demands a lot of guts to do that, to leave the cozy cocoons and to see the heat and chill of the world outside; to fight with the elements which may not be altogether friendly. But is it impossible? Down the centuries, generations of men and women have taught us the secret to cross the thresholds of impossibility – leave the past, and walk into the present. Are we going to lose something as a result of extending a parting embrace to the past, and leave them behind forever? We may, but what we may gain in the present may be far more gratifying to our souls than the past.

I am reminded of two disciples promising to Jesus to follow him, but one makes an excuse to say good bye to his parents, and Jesus says to him to leave the dead to bury their own dead; to another he says, anyone who had put his hand on the plough and looks back is not worthy of the Kingdom. I would like to think of Jesus telling these two disciples to leave the past behind and enter into the present with him; after all, another name for YHWH is I AM, the ever present; to live in the present is to live in the presence of the divine. In another sense, we all become part of divinity the moment we move from the past to the present. For reality in the present is far removed from that of the past, and of the future. The power of the present is something that we need to cherish, and it is possible only by becoming aware of where our minds are at regular intervals.

Today I would like to pause for a while just now, and bring my mind to the present. Let me take a sheet of paper and put on it the memories of the past that keep popping up in my mind at each passing moment. Let me give them a decent farewell, not try to chase them, but give them a warm embrace, feel them, even shed a tear or two, give them an affectionate kiss, and let them part. They may remain like the ruins of the Romans in Rome, but may not come to haunt our present. Let me close my eyes and enter into the sweetness of the present moment; see beauty all around , all that I ever wanted to envision. Let me open my eyes and see everything with fresh eyes, as if I am seeing them for the first time. Let me listen to the different sounds with new ears, as if I am hearing them for the first time. Let me fill my heart with awe and wonder at the miracle of the present moment, and see how my body is slowly transformed into a divine place, a Patheon, where all gods find a niche for themselves! (Brussels)

The Pieta

As one walks through the magnificent St Peter’s Basilica in Vatican, one is awe-stuck at the innumerable works of art displayed at the holy place. The bigger than life size sculptures of popes of the bygone days, the paintings of some of the most notable artistes of different ages; beauty and sanctity have joined hands, and sometimes it is art which takes the upper hand, and religiosity moves behind. There is pomp and magnificence as one walks through the sacred portals, sanctified by innumerable men and women over the two millennia. But what remains today in this headquarters of the Roman Catholicism is of great and immense value to the universe and to humanity. In a sense, Vatican and the city of Rome bear witness to the great sense of art that Romans entertained in their design of the city, buildings, walls, temples. Imagine the Pantheon in the heart of Rome, which has altars for all possible religious groups, thus paving way for inter-faith communion, rather than dialogue.

But let me focus my attention to one of the most note-worthy treasures of St Peter’s Basilica in Vatican, the Pieta by Leonardo da Vinci. The marble sculpture bears witness to the close bond that a mother and her son can cherish. The gentleness of the mother almost flowing out of her grace-filled face, and the humble submission of the Son, who allows himself to be cuddled by the all loving hands of the Mother – you would probably need a magnifying glass to really study the feelings and emotions that the artist has poured into his work of art. This is one place in the basilica, where there is always a big crowd, as they enter in, and find it soon at the right. The life size sculpture captures the basic human bond, in the most eloquent way, and it is a treat to the body and the soul of every mother and son, who are tied by a bond beyond all telling.

Perhaps the most enduring bond between two human beings is between a mother and her child. Even in 60, a man is a child to his mother, a woman is a child to her mother. That filial bond can never be severed, even if one party deliberately wishes so. This is one of the miracles of nature; even in 60, a son would love to rest his head on the lap of his mother, who might be in her eighties. The comfort and security of this bond is so very different from the kind of bond that the world knows. Is it not strange then that when a person who is old enough to be a grandparent is sick, the person’s mother would love to take care of him/her as if the person were a child; she would not even hesitate to bathe, feed and dress him/her. One can be as vulnerable and helpless as one is in front of one’s mother, because she only can understand the child she had given not only birth, but also shaped inch by inch. It is this eternal bond that flows out of the Pieta.

One of the greatest gifts that we human beings can cherish is our mothers; this is in no way to belittle the significant role that our fathers play in our lives. Since we had been dependent on her from the moment of conception, through the long months of carrying in the womb, and seeing the light of day through her body, we carry in ourselves our mothers. We had been drinking her blood every time we suckled her breasts, and were nourished by it. But coming in contact with the worldly pressures, we lose touch with the tenderness of our mothers, and become hard at heart. The suppleness of heart, tenderness of feelings are lost too soon. I wish we take the photos of our mothers at some of the most significant moments of our life on earth: childbirth, sickness, success, pain. It is only a mother who can give back the life her son or daughter had lost.

Today I would like to place myself in front of the Pieta, and bring to my eyes my mother; I would like to replace the eternal mother with my own mother, and would like to replace the eternal Word with my own self. I would like to see myself cuddled by my mother; caressed by her loving tender hands. I would like to become a child again to her, so that I may experience the bond that keeps me close to her. I also would like to thank all the mothers who have crossed my way; I have another mother who has nurtured my intellectual thirst, another mother who nurtures me when I am very far from my biological mother. After all, all mothers have this quality of tenderness in their genes, and today I bow my head to these mothers, and pray for God’s abundant blessings on them. I only wish I have the tenderness and loving compassion that my mothers have for me! (Brussels)

So What?

The man who made history during the last Olympics in Beijing for the maximum number of gold medals for swimming is in trouble. Michael Phelps from the United States of America has been banned in his home nation for three months for photos which showed him smoking a marijuana pipe. Glory and honor are the greatest enemies of humanity; the more one climbs up the ladder, the lower they go in appreciation of the gifts of life and a sense of gratitude to the human family for paving way for them to reach their heights. Phelps was no humble man as he gathered the gold medals and walked out of the podium; at least he didn’t seem to be so. There was a ray of pride and arrogance, that he is on the top of the world was so very evident in each of his facial expressions. The fact that he had beaten his own record during the previous Olympics put him on a higher pedestal. But that is Phelps.

But the fact is the world has its own share of Phelps, and if we look carefully we may find a dozen of them around us, with different names, shapes, goals in life, and identities. There are people who struggle hard to reach certain heights in life, but once they reach the heights, they look down upon the path they had trodden, and the many people who had pushed him up inch by inch. Every one may become irrelevant and immaterial for them, because they have achieved what they wanted, and they think they are the masters of their situations; but unfortunately nature has its own dynamics to bring down the mighty and haughty, at the same pace they had climbed up. If only the high and mighty realize that life is a not a static moment, but a continuum, where we are pushed and pulled according to different currents, and sometimes we might find ourselves helpless victims of circumstances.

Achievement is a curse on humanity; we tend to attribute every good thing that is happening in our lives to personal achievement, to our sweat and blood. Think of the boy who after doing a short errand, gave a slip to his mother, which said she owed one dollar for the errands; and at the end of the day, the mother made a slip for her son, which enlisted the moments she had carried him in her womb, nursed him in his childhood, keeping awake when he was sick, and after adding up the enormous sum, wrote underneath, Paid in full! We tend to look at ourselves, and not beyond our nose, as it were. Behind every personal achievement, we would notice the sweat and toil of many men and women, the sacrifice of several nameless, faceless persons. In fact, it may be right to say that we do not achieve anything to merit. We are given so graciously that we often fail to take them into account.

Giving due credit to the persons who have groomed and shaped us, and even pruned us in time, is no more in practice in this world of competition. If I were to take a sheet of paper and start putting down the names of all the persons who have made my day today, then probably, I need to go in for several sheets of paper. There is an army of persons involved in my wellbeing. It is because the farmers toil in rain and shine, that I am able to enjoy the fruits of their labor in the bread that eat, not to mention the men and women of the bakery who toil to serve afresh at the table. The sales persons who dare the rain and cold winter to reach it in front of my doorstep. It is an endless list that I will end with. Just think of the shirt I wear, how many people are involved in clothing me properly; but have I ever thought of these people, or have I said to myself I bought it for a price, and I don’t need to think of anyone else!

Today I take a few minutes for myself. From the moment when my parents came together and decided to give life to me up to this moment when I am a grown adult, I would like to think of the different persons who have shaped my life, and groomed me. Many of them are no more, and several others have faded away in my memory. But I do remember many of them, who are still afresh. Let me call each one by name, recollect their face, give an offering of smile, and whisper in their ears, Thank you, you have made me. It is true, a good many of the people who are at the disposal of the world, doing all sorts of odd jobs, so that we may enjoy our days, do not even expect us to be grateful; they do not even look for a nod of approval. But should it make me feel indifferent towards their valuable contribution in my life? At our every stepping stone, we can see the toil and sweat of many, and they are the bread and butter of our every success, achievement. I would like to close my eyes and stand in deep respect and gratitude to the world and her glorious children who have made me what I am. (Brussels)

Chasing Shades of Shadow

I really can’t understand why we are so frightened of shadows; we can scarcely understand that shadows are part and parcel of light. Can we ever think of shadows if there is no light? The presence of shadows only confirms that there is light; and strangely but interestingly, the brighter the light, stronger may be the shadow, and we have no control over these shadows. These shadows follow the light wherever they go, and it is impossible to separate light from shadows. But we spend a lot of our energy and resources to separate them, and feel disappointed when we are not able to succeed in this mission. The secret is to let the shadows remain with the light; to accept and embrace the shadows as an integral part of light, may give us an opening into wonders in our lives.

Perhaps the best example to illustrate this point is a candle which is burning. Even the best of candles will cast a shadow when brought in contact with an object. Granted that we have no control over the shadows, there is a time when the shadows will slowly disappear. When does that happen? When the candle burns itself, or dies to itself to use a biblical expression, then we know that the shadow too will disappear. The taller the candle, broader is the radius of its shadow. This only reminds us that we have nothing to do with our own shadows too. Any frantic attempt to fight with our shades will only end up in failures, because nature has its own way of remedying the shadows, without our intervention. We need to just let things happen at their natural course, without wishing to hasten the movement.

We all of us are composed of light and shadows; while we are overjoyed with our light areas, we are impatient with our shadows, and think that it is within our capacity to overcome them. We might seek psychological help and spiritual assistance to overcome these shadows, but may realize that we move no further than the starting point. What can we do when we find ourselves drowned by our shadows more than the light? Is there anything that we can do? There is. To embrace the shadows, the accept and acknowledge them can bring greater amount of tranquility and peace in our hearts. Most often we do not want to accept them, but resist them, as if they are unwanted elements. It is true that we don’t desire them, but they are ingrained in ourselves. It takes a lot of courage and strength to actually embrace our shadows, and own them up. The shadows have a lot to contribute to our mental and spiritual health more than the psychological health.

Embracing the shadows also imply yet another important movement in the dynamics of the shadows management: to recognize them for what they are, as if looking through a magnifying glass, to identify them, and even naming them, without tending to judge and evaluate them. It is difficult to be indifferent to them, and our human mind would tend to brand them on the basis of bad or evil, and that can cause us dearly. It needs to be said that shadows themselves are neutral and indifferent, it is what we make of them out to be will determine if the shadows are led to straight path or a crooked one. It is like thoughts which are benign and neutral, but some thoughts can lead one to kill an innocent, while some others may lead one to protect the innocent. But if we try to put aside all the shadows, we might throw the baby with the bath tub, and that may cause us dearly in the long run.

Today I would like to take a dip inside my heart to find the different shadows living with me quietly; I would like to recognize them, identify the, and befriend them. They are my lasting friends, and even if I wish to bid adieu to them, they may not go, because they are part of my second nature. I would like to embrace them, and acknowledge their specific role in my life; I would like to remind myself that much of what I am today is thanks to them. If I am able to keep my shadows to remain under my control, then there are chances that I will be able to grow with them, and then they can very well become my strengths. And what greater joy can there be than the greatest enemies are made into the greatest friends, who would be prepared to give even their lives for me!

What’s in a name?

It does not require great intelligence to observe that our names mean so much to us that we are most often associated with our names. Sometimes our names may not much correspond to our personality or our characteristic behavior, but it will invariably have something to say about us. The name is also very closely linked to our identity; we carry this identity until we die. But this is an identity that has been superimposed on us by the society we live; unfortunately very seldom are given an opportunity to choose our names. We are given names by our parents or relatives at the time of our birth, and as is the case generally, when we grow older, we may not like the name, and even wish to change, but might feel helplessly that we cannot do that. So we carry our names till we reach our graves. I wish we choose our names, but that would mean that we have to wait for several years, and what is the guarantee that we might not like to change the name yet again in the later years!

It gives me a lot of joy to observe tiny tots in the first year of school, quite oblivious of their names being called. They cannot even associate themselves with a set of sounds, which we call them their name. If we are to enter into their selves, we will realize that they are blissfully unaware of the fact that they have a specific identity in the society, and they have to carry it wherever they go. It is for this sake that in many countries schools have begun to tie a name tag around the kids, lest they forget who they are, or rather who the society calls them as. Many of us do not know what our names stand for, and what their origins are. Some names have a specific background, which may be quite revealing. When one of my brothers begot a son after about 15 years of his marriage, and after going through a series of complications, he named his son Gift of God! One day, Alen will come to know that he was truly a gift of God to his parents and to the world.

Though I don’t really like the idea, there is something very special in the religious nuns take a new name when they finally profess in a religious congregation. They gain a new identity, but again this new identity may not match their true nature or character. It used to be said of a particular women’s congregation when the head of the Order would take a list of names, line up the sisters, and give them one after another, and each one got a name according to their luck. Some had the fortune of getting even what is often considered men’s names. Is it possible for them to identify closely with the new name they have gained? Of course in the religious profession, the change of name is a symbol of changing a way of life; they have gained a new identity, quite different from the one the world has given them. They have gained a new identity which will hopefully point them towards a new goal and a new orientation.

Sometimes we do not like our names, and start fiddling with it, as I too have done. It is possible that within a cultural context a name had a lot of significance, but when we move on to a different cultural milieu the name becomes quite complicated, and even becomes cause of confusion. A Chinese name may become unutterable for an Indian, and similarly an Indian name may be too complicated for a Chinese. Luckily we find ways of shortening or abbreviating our names to make them more presentable, and even palatable to others, but we remain what we are. One thing for sure, we all love to be called by our first names. In religious circles we are called by the honorary titles, and that is often done out of respect, but when someone senior were to call us by our first names, our hearts throb, and leaps for joy, because we find that that name evokes sensations that rise from the bottom of our hearts. Is it not for this reason that lovers love to call each other by their names!

Today I would like to pause for a moment and savor the sweetness of my name, and all that it implies; let me call me by name several times, until I can hear my heart vibrate with feelings so tender and gentle that I feel enlivened. We live in a society, where people who wish to be polite and formal, like to call me by my second name, which is far removed from what I would very much like to hear, but I know the people I love and care, do call me by name. Today I would like to reflect how God calls me; perhaps he has the best name, hearing which my heart would throb, and the sound of the name would always ring in my ears. What is that name, the special name, which has been reserved for me, and only for me in the whole of the universe. I sit in the secret corner of my world, waiting to hear God call me by that name, as I look longingly to his countenance in everyone I see and encounter. If only I can hear his voice, my heart would be full, and I may find no words to utter. Name is the other name for my deepest desires. (Rome)

Touch of the Sacred

One of the most absorbing moments while sitting at the room of St Ignatius of Loyola in the heart of Rome, beside the towering Il Iesu church, was that sanctity was all around me. Beside me, over me, before me and after me, and I was shrouded by an aura of holiness that I felt utterly unworthy to stand in that place. Sactity and holiness never die, but they envelope everyone who comes in contact with them, knowingly or unknowingly. I remember the accounts of the earliest encounters of Swami Vivekananda with Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. There was something so very special in Ramakrishna that Narendra, as Vivekananda was called before he became the disciple of Ramakrishna, could not resist himself. I would not dare say that mine was such an experience, but I was quite moved at the simplicity, and even the wretchedness of the saint, who but had things which were all too simple and beggarly.

The pair of sandals and the cope that St Ignatius used were on display, and looking at them I felt terribly ashamed of having the best of things, while the saint had things worse than that of beggars. One thing was evident that saints transcend the material world, and live in an altogether different world; the worldly matters do not much matter to them, and that is the true mark of sanctity. What to eat, what to dress, and how to present themselves to the world around – these are not their concerns. A distancing from the world makes them closer to the other world; even as they lived in this world, their hearts were in a different world; they were truly like the lotus leaves, which are not affected by the rain drops; the water splashes and flow across. But we live in a world where each one is called to be alike a sponge, which would attract the water drops that may fall on them, and our world slowly becomes heavier and heavier, until we feel it is too heavy for us to carry on.

Visit to the room of St Ignatius has another surprise for me. We sat around the room the celebrate the Eucharist, we about 23 of us were huddled in the small room, and had a simple Eucharistic celebration. Before the mass, our guide had informed us that it was in that very room that St Ignatius has breathed his last, though his room was next to the one where we had the mass. Before his death he seemed to have moved to this room, and in a corner of the room, he died. After the mass, one of the Sisters of our group who had earlier visited the place, came to me, and moved the chair I was sitting on, and lo and behold, there was a small marble slab which said that St Ignatius had died at that very place. The sister said, See, the faithful son sitting on his father! And I retorted, it is truly a privilege for the son to sit on the lap of his father!

During the mass I prayed that while getting in touch with an aura of sanctity and holiness all around us, sanctified by several holy men and women of down the centuries, we may be able to carry a little bit of that sanctity to our worlds. There is also evil equally all around, and we can never be spared from their influence, but if we are surrounded by the aura of sanctity through coming in touch with the presence of several holy men and women, we can be safe, even when living in a world that is corrupt and evil. A lotus can retain her beauty and splendor even in the midst of the dirty and ugly looking slush, and will not allow the slush tarnish her beauty. That is the role of every holy men and women of our age, they help us strike a balance, so that the evil in the world may not over take our lives, and bring an end to all that is good and sacred.

Today I would like to pause for a while as I bow my head with respect and reverence to all the holy men and women who had touched my heart during the day, as I walked along the streets they had walked centuries ago, the very places they had sanctified by their presence, while alive and in death. I would like to be touched by the high voltage of their sanctity so that my body and spirit may get attuned to their sanctity and holiness that I may keep myself at a safe distance from the world that can only think of the passing glory and honor and riches. All saintly men and women had fixed their eyes on higher values and nobler riches, and I too wish to aspire for such high and noble values and riches. Sainthood is a free gift from God, and not many of us are really worthy of beholding the glory, but I would only wish to be touched by the sanctity of these holy men and women, so that I may radiate a spark of that holiness. (Rome)

His-tory

I would like to tell a story, one that is a miniscule fragment of the story of the universe. My story, you will soon realize, is part of the story of every human being, past or present or future. In fact, there is only one story that can be told, and every other story is either an adaptation of that one story, or a re-telling of the same. How can there be more than one story, wherein every human beings appear and disappear at their appointed time and space. You may be surprised to know that my story has no beginning and has no end; it begins abruptly and ends so. Are you wondering why it is so? You may ask the universe, which is the story-teller, and every creature on earth is just a character. If I look at my particular role in the story, I may not get either the head or the tail, because I am part of the whole, and have no existence on my own.

You should pardon me if my role in some way coincides with yours or some one else’s; know that I am not to be blamed for that. You cannot think that is an oversight by the dramatist or the playwright; it is not so. It is intended to be so. You may hear the same songs, same characters, and you may even see the same scenes enacted, re-enacted time and again. You may even be bored to death, and may wish to run away from the hall. But hang on a minute. What you think is a frozen moment at the play is in fact a progressive moment. It may benefit you if you were to drop down you wrist watch at the dustbin over there, and forget for a while the concept of time and space as you are known. Because we are in a different kind of plain, where time is not linear, but cyclical. Here you will see that characters go round in concentric circles, and their movement may be imperceptible to your naked eyes, but remember that they do move ahead. Where do they go? You may never find a satisfactory answer to this question, even as your life comes to an end. That is how the universe moves.

I am the ever old and I am the ever new; how would you define the water of a stream or a river? Is the water fresh or old? Is the water of the sea old or new? We are all flowing with the current of the stream, and we know not with which stream we may join hands. We take along all those whom we may find on the way, the simple, the weak, the selfish, the arrogant, the haughty, the cruel – everyone will have a place in our stream, and that is what gives fresh vigor and strength to the current. Do they spoil and pollute the stream? They have no power to do so, because it is beyond their power to contaminate the waters, because they can only contaminate themselves with the waters, and cannot do so to the waters. There are some who recognize me, and there are many who do not recognize me, and I have no regret towards them. I am no one to condemn or judge them. They will be their own judges in the days to come.

But where is my story? Why have I not begun my story? If you look attentively, you may realize that my story has begun already, though I might sound beating around the bush, without coming to the core of the story. You may wonder, where is the plot - the beginning, the middle and the end! Where are the Aristotelian conflict and the dénouement. I would not be surprised if you find the language of this story complex to you, and the language alien. We are used to stories, which are told from the point of view of the human persons, but here is the story told from the perspective of the universe, and the whole of human race. It is no harm if you do not get the core of the story, and are left in the middle, unable to guess what is happening to the characters. There will be a time, when you will be called to play your part, and then you may leave.

Many are the streams that have joined me over the years, and I bear all of them in my heart; there are the weak and the fragile, the haughty and the proud, the simple and the humble, I bear all of them in my heart, and they will be with me so long there is breath in me. Every time I touch someone, he or she becomes part of me, an extension of myself; I flow into that person, and that person flows into me. There is a mutual flow, enriching each other. Life flows that way; it is never one way. As it moves forward, it also retracts to take along the people she had given birth to. That is why life may seem never progressing, but if you look at from the concentric circles she encircles, you will know that she is on the move. After centuries, you may realize that she is still on the circles, because the circle never comes to an end. Life too may never see an end! (Rome)

Following the Leader

Sitting among about seven thousand men and women, in a large auditorium in Vatican, Rome, awaiting the arrival of the Roman Pontiff to grant audience to the eager visitors, I had mixed feelings criss-crossing my mind, and for a while I thought the mighty setup which has become the seat of power for the Roman Catholic Church, has not much to offer to the simple people who had come to the Eternal City with so much of love and expectation, than a far away glimpse of the Pope. When the Pope began to address some groups, a few of them out of deep love and admiration shouted Sancta Papa (holy father), and I really wonder if the Pontiff really realized what these people wanted to tell him. Was there any paternal instinct in him, that expressed itself, in response to their loving call? At one moment I thought if the pope had become insensible to the feelings of the thousands of people. In the name of security, the pope had remained far away from the masses, and that pains me.

Yesterday we had the fortune of witnessing the 44th president of the United States of America, Barrack Obama assuming office at the White House, and the countless number of men and women who had gathered to witness this wonderful event had much to contribute to the success of his political career, and it is the masses who had made him what he is now; and rightly he is accountable not only to every American citizen, but as extension to every citizen of the world. He did not mince words in expressing his commitment to rebuilding the world, and in ushering in the reign of truth and justice, and every American citizen’s earnest desire to contribute to the goodness of the world around. Two leaders, and two masses, two vision, and two kinds of response to the masses. No doubt I was touched by the audience, especially when the Pontiff went on addressing the people of different languages in their own languages, tirelessly going on for about one hour and ten minutes. But I could see that there was something amiss at the hall.

One of the biggest differences between these two great leaders is that the president of the USA has been elected by the citizens of the country, and the toil and sweat of thousands have gone in making of this man, and today he is determined to bring to fruition what he had promised during his campaigns, and he has already reiterated his determination to do so in the days to come. That is so very different in the case of the Pontiff, who had been elected by the College of the Cardinals, and it would be very difficult to say if the cardinals had the consent (even in a very remote way) of the people they represented! Granted that the Church is guided by the Holy Spirit, who works at the heart of every person, but unfortunately we have come to consider that the Spirit can inspire one section of the hierarchical church better than the hoi poploi. No wonder, more than sixty per centage of the Catholics of the subcontinent don’t even know the name of their bishops, leave alone the Pope. This is the world we live in, and I feel it hard to believe we still believe in such a world.

I might sound quite critical about the Church I belong to, and the way how things are done. Sometimes I recall to mind the story of Peter and John walking into the Jerusalem temple after the resurrection of the Lord, and the paralytic looking upto them hoping to get a coin or two, and Peter tells him that they did not have neither silver nor gold to offer. But with the power of the name of Jesus, they restored health to the sick. The church is very different; at least the Vatican cannot say that it did not have silver and gold. The wealth that belong to the Vatican can feel millions of hungry stomachs in Africa and Asia, but still we will never dare to raise this question, because we would like to be faithful Christians, who accept the authority of the Vicar of Christ, as flowing from Christ himself. If Peter had walked the streets of Jerusalem, can his successor do the same. Is the Popeomobile a requisite while he visits a poor nation, or he could use the local secure conveyance, and spare the huge expenses involved in transporting the special vehicle!

I would sound heretic if I were to say that the Church today is every Christian, who believe in Christ and follow his footsteps faithfully, and if I believe in Christ and his teachings, sadly, sometimes I am compelled to distance myself from the madding crowds who believe that is what Christ would want of them. I would like to pause for a while, even as I am just a few kilometers from Vatican, and think what Christ wants of his Church today? What sort of leadership would Christ envisage for his successors, those who stand in his place? But before I point my finger at the Pope, let me look deep into myself, and ask how can I be a leader of the people I am sent to. At least there is one indication for sure; if the people I serve can pronounce my name, then I will know that I am close to them; because I know for sure, people will bother to remember the names of only the persons who matter to them, whom they love. And some of them not only write the names of their humble and simple leaders in their hearts, but carve their names in the hearts of everyone they come in touch with, and that is the reward of every sincere leader. (Rome)

Beyond Black and White

Today is a very significant day to every American citizen; the day that needs to be carved with golden letters in the annals of not only American history, but the history of the world. On this day, Barrack Obama ascends to the presidential chair of the United States of America, and this is something that is amazing, significant and noteworthy. Times have changed, and the socio-cultural and political situations around the globe has changed considerably; but some of the deep-seated ideologies and prejudices about certain races and colors have continued to persist, even after centuries. What has been the fate of the Afro-Americans has been the fate of the dalits of the India; though there had been prophets championing the causes of the underdogs (we may as well include the “slumdogs” of the recent film Slumdog Millionaire), the result had not been altogether encouraging. Today as Obama makes history taking reins of perhaps the most powerful nation on earth, we look forward to brighter days ahead.

It is not often that people who are on the fringes of the society rise up to occupy the most prominent chairs in society; there are in-built mechanism in most of the societies to dethrone the people who do not necessarily fit into the pre-fabricated systems. Though victories of these underdogs ascending to top-most posts of the government may be short-lived, due to two opposing poles of attraction : on the one side is the feeling that these men and women may experience, an awkward feeling that they are just misfits in the system, and therefore would be compelled to walk out of the scene themselves; on the other side are the people whose sincere efforts to bring order and discipline in the system may end up with cold shoulders; there may be imperceptible resistance from the people who matter, and those in authority may be turned to blind alleys. Even as they contemplate quitting the scene, they may find themselves outside the system too soon. We are yet to see how Obama perseveres in his battle against the races.

It is obvious that every time a person from the lower rungs of the society climbs up the ladder, there are many who raise their eyebrows, and wonder if it is a mistake; some cannot even believe their eyes and ears. But history is known to reverse the fates of many a men and women, who considered themselves indispensable to history. It is hard for a single man or woman to fight a fierce battle against races, who are soaked in centuries of dominion over the natives. Unfortunately there are many in our society who know only how to be served; they cannot think of themselves as serving others. That is why when it comes to the question of extending an arm of cooperation and collaboration, they feel shattered, and their world crumbles. Today is the day that proves that the Black too have equal rights and opportunities to lead the Whites. What we would very much love to see is a society that goes beyond all sorts of discrimination, on the basis of color or caste, social status or stratification, religion or culture.

There are several men and women who have changed the face of the earth by their sheer grit, and thanks to their tireless service and selfless dedication, today we have a world that still yearns for peace and harmony, strength and stability. It is wrong time for us to enter into a debate about the personal credentials of the leader who is going to occupy the presidential chair; we would not also enter into arguments as to the means by which he had ascended to this position. There are camps for and against, and we would spare them for more volatile debates in schools and colleges, but for now, it shall suffice to look at the traditions the leader brings in to the presidency. Certain aspects of traditions live longer than our breath, and we betray the traditions we behold every time we present ourselves in public. Our speech, mannerism, facial expressions, face-cut, bodily features, smile, everything are here to betray our identity, good or bad. Here then we stand not to condemn anyone or anything, but to behold and ennoble them.

I may not be wrong if I were to say that the universe gets the leaders she deserves. History has seen umpteen leaders, good and bad, selfish and selfless, introvert and extravert; each time phase in history begot her own leaders. Today we pause for a while to bring to mind all the leaders who in some way or other control my life and existence, and to whom I am accountable. There are leaderships at every sphere of my life, religious, cultural, social, political and economic. At the other side of the spectrum, I can see myself in leadership roles, controlling the life and destiny of the people under my care. Sometimes I have the power to care or condemn people, and sadly some of them are under my mercy, and my whims and fancies determine their fate. Today let me reflect for a while, what sort of leader am I, and what do I wish to achieve through this leadership quality that had been bestowed on me. If at any time, I am able to lay down my life, or at least my personal priorities, for the people, then I can be proud to be their leader! (Rome)

Karmanye vadi karaste…

It was wonderful listening to a leader who wields power next only to the Roman Pontiff, the Superior General of the Society of Jesus, Father Adolfo Nicolas, who has spent a large part of his active years in Japan as missionary and professor of theology, talk about the Japanese ways and beliefs. At one point of his discussion about common apostolic discernment here in Monto Cocco retreat house off Rome, he said that one of the biggest diseases plaguing the universe today is the search for success. Unfortunately success has become the key word in all spheres of life today, and one can never think of failure, and that may mean the death-knell of not only one’s career, but also one’s whole life. No one wants to face failure, not even the children, who are taught to aspire higher and higher in the success ladder. A year ago we had a class three student, aged 8 years, in one of our prestigious schools, who apparently committed suicide. It was shocking news to all of us, for what would a child of eight years know about committing suicide, and he was not afraid of failure, because he was a brilliant student. His problem was that he could not score 25 out of 25, but only score 21, and was afraid that his mother would beat him for not scoring higher, and so ended his life. Another version tells that the mother beat the boy to death, and complained to the police as if the boy had committed suicide.

But that is the reality we are dealing with today. The lowest rung of the ladder is expected to be success, and one is to climb higher and higher. It does not matter if one is happy or not; that is immaterial. It is believed that more and more of success would automatically bring in happier life, and to a large extent success is put in direct proportion to happiness, though in reality it does not happen that way. It is a way of enticing humanity in showing the way of success as leading to guaranteed happiness, so that people are attracted to aspire towards success. Granted that success in life is accompanied by sweat and blood in most cases, but one does not mind hardships in life, provided with success in life, happiness is awarded or rewarded. The present competitive world not only entices, but also opens up gateways to achieve success in life, of course for a heavy price. At the expense of foregoing one’s personal needs and necessities, curbing social ties, even breaking one’s closest ties with families and siblings. The modern day gurus advocate all means in order to succeed in life.

If half of the fraternity in the commercial world were to know that success does not guarantee happiness in life, they may think twice before jumping into the success-band wagon. Fortunately by now half of humanity has knows that what truly matters in life is happiness, and not necessarily success, but they are yet to know the fact that success does not guarantee happiness. Those who make use of the ignorance of the whole lot of people, have even devised methods of making shortcuts to success; there are crash courses to achieve success at a very short period – you may have to dole out a lot of money, may even forego one’s honor and prestige, should even be prepared to lose all shame and all the virtues we had been taught from the time of childhood. It is a competitive world we are entering into, where what matters is the personal gain, even slaying one’s kith and kin. But that is the business ethics today, the unwritten law of success taught in all management schools, though not in open, but in close circles.

Three of the major religions of the world – Christianity, Hinduism and Buddhism have taught one truth that the modern generation will not buy today : do your duty and leave the fruits to me. But perhaps it was articulated in the most emphatic way in the Bhagavad Gita, when Lord Krishna advices his disciple Arjuna to do his duty and not to think about the fruits. What happens if the Lord wants me to be a failure in my work? My mind reacts immediately and retorts, but how can the Lord want me to be a failure? I may have to remember that what is success in the eyes of the world, may truly be failure to the Lord, and what is failure in His/Her eyes may be in fact success. If the fruits of a particular action is success or failure is not for me to determine, but for the Lord. If only I am prepared to embrace even failure, and better still not to be bothered about the fruits of my labor, then I can be a happy person; because one can be happy even one’s failure, when one knows that one had done one’s best, and was satisfied by the sincere efforts made. But the algebra of happiness truly lies in our mental disposition, and not in the objective fruit it yields.

Is it possible for me to forego the desire to be successful? Or let me put the question reverse: will I be prepared to embrace failure? Granted that sometimes failure is thrust upon me, and I may not find an alternative to it; but if I am given an option to choose success or failure, will I have the courage and strength to choose deliberately and voluntarily failure? Today I pause for a while, and go through the different actions of mine from the early morning; I will also remember the kind of fruit I expect and anticipate. Let me take each of the actions and consider their fruits in negative, namely all my efforts ending up in failure. Let me feel deep within what would be the kind of feeling I would experience deep within. If I am able to rise above success and failure, then I would surely rise above happiness and sadness, and such are the persons, whom Lord Krishna calls in the Bhagavad Gita, dear to him (9:16-20). Here is an easy way then, to become close to the Lord, and enter into true happiness, and here it is guaranteed by the Lord himself, and we have nothing to worry or lose. (Rome)

Flowing with History

Going through the ancient city of Rome, with all her glory and grandeur, cannot be a mere tourist attraction for a person who looks for life in the midst of lifeless memorabilia of the past. The river Tiber that runs her course almost kissing the everlasting city of Vatican’s St Peter’s Basilica, and the numerous circus (read sports place) of the Roman kings, and the unforgettable catacombs – all these tell one story : story of humanity that lives about 18 centuries back, but whose memory can contribute a lot to the modern generation. Every stone that had gone into the making of these monuments, which today we treasure as opening up vistas in history and archeology, today bear witness to the fact, humanity is here to stay; I am no God to predict that no one can really destroy humanity, but once thing is for sure that the memory of humanity is deeply carved into the heart of the earth, and no season or reason can ever wipe these memories.

Romans have contributed so much to the flowering of human civilization about two millennia ago, and everywhere we go in Rome, we can see it, touch and feel it. We can feel in our bones how history flows into our lives, even when we are quite oblivious of it. Its currents flow high and low, touching the lives of all, people from all walks of life, even those who do not want to be counted part of the pages of history. While going through the catacombs of St Calisto, I was told by the Australian guide that sometimes the catacombs were places where all the underdogs of the society were buried: among those would be victims of infanticide, robbers, barbarians, slaves, hardcore criminals, and the list is virtually endless. All of them found place in the narrow corridors of the secret tombs, and were even remembered by their people; their names were carved on the slabs that sealed their tombs in symbols, and cryptic language. Today it may be hard for us to decipher their identities and know who they really were, except the period of their burial, and in some cases their names; and nothing else. Many of them are for us nameless, faceless individuals, who still belong to the history of our times.

Standing at the magnificent St Peter’s Basilica square for the Pope’s Angelus at 12 noon also gives the similar feeling. More than about ten thousand people thronged at the square, just for a darshan of the pontiff, and to receive his blessings. As he read out his message and greeted the congregation in five different languages, and waved his hands and imparted his blessings on them, what would be these people to him, but tiny dots, assembled far below his bungalow. While I tried to zoom in my digital still camera, it refused to go after a distance, and with the handicam, I could go a little further, but far short of capturing his face, and freeze them to know what he expresses about these crowds which assemble each day, with the hope of having a glance of the man who represents Christ. Nameless, faceless persons still matter to the leaders of the nations, to politicians, and to everyone who think he/she is an asset to this universe.

In fact, everyone who enters into this vast universe and thinks s/he is an indispensable part of the planet or the Milky Way is merely a spec in the ocean; our memories may soon be marred by the tides of time and space. But what part of us lives day after day, year after year, even several centuries after we are gone? Good works? It is hard to say that we may be remembered for our good works after years. We may be imagining too much, if we were to think so. I may then ask myself, what is the role and function of my life in this universe? If my life is but a spec in the vast ocean of time and space, how do I leave my footprints behind? There are people in the society, who move frantically from pillar to post, to find ways and means of leaving their footprints behind in the pages of history; though some succeed to do so, many fail miserably.

Today I would like to bring to my mind all the great men and women who have shaped the world we live in, and take my hats off for them, for making it truly livable. I would also like to remember those simple and ordinary people who in their own way contributed to the world that I behold today – the many people whose name I may not remember, or I might know them only as names and may not have seen them, and pay my humble tribute to them, in the name of the entire universe. Each of them is responsible for the kind of world we enjoy today; if not for them, the world would be quite different. Time holds me today in her hands, and it is my responsibility to make it a better place for those who would come after me to live and cherish every moment they may live in this world. I may be too ambitious if I were to hope to create a beautiful world, without pain and misery, sorrow and despair; that may exist only in the realm of dreams, but it is for me to keep the world as I live today. (Rome)

Might is Wealth

Luxembourg, tugged off between Belgium, France and Germany in the European Union fraternity, is not a big country or nation of great significance as its great and illustrious neighbors. Just as we need to look for a dot adjoining Malasia to identify Singapore, so too should we strain to locate Luxembourg, which has only about 25 km radius, and a population far below most of the metropolis of the sub-continent, with about four lakhs, a good majority hailing from other parts of the European Union, and one fourth from Portugal. Having said how insignificant this nation among the 26 other allies of the EU, let me give just one point, which may turn the boat topsy-turvy – Luxembourg boasts as the third biggest financial capital in the EU, and has over 200 banks in the city. Given the nature of the city then, every third or fourth building should be a bank. No wonder the steel tycoon from India Mittal has pitched his tent in Luxembourg recently as his capital.

A cauldron of several languages and cultures make this nation quite different from her immediate neighbors. Talking to the 95 year old Jesuit, who is a Luxembourger himself and had spent 40 years of his golden years in West Bengal, India, one gets the feeling that as a financer’s paradise, his homeland may soon defeat even Sweden. This brings to my mind the famous adage – might is right! Let me play with these words and see how they apply to Luxembourg. Might is right – we shall not debate on this axiom. Could we say the reverse too is a possibility? Right is might! What is right need not be something enormous; even a tiny little right can turn nations topsy-turvy. Right can be mighty, and so Luxembourg is truly mighty.

The problem with our world is that we often associate might with the powerful, and the haves, and the affordable. We cannot think of the unemployed, not educationally qualified men and women change the annals of our history. What can a school dropout in the United States of America do to the world? Microsoft Windows and Office still reigns supreme in all offices and personal computer systems, fruit of the labors of a school dropout! What can an Indian engineer trying to find his ways out in the States, struggling to make both ends meet do to our modern times – Shabeer Bhatia’s free first email service (hotmail) was born! In fact, the most noteworthy contributions to humanity were made by the people who were considered living on the margins of the society. They never thought they had the power and stamina to change the fate of the world, not even their petty worlds. If ever they had thought so, the very next moment they would have fallen from grace. I feel that the true sign of greatness lies in the fact that we are blissfully ignorant of it, and cannot even imagine such a state of grace bestowed on us.

It is said that greatness is thrust upon some people – and if Shakespeare is said to have made this statement, which is a corruption of Jesus saying on eunuchs (we shall not pause here to debate if Shakespeare really intended or not, or if it was merely an imagination of the author!), I would add that greatness is thrust upon someone, who does not consider himself/herself as being so, or deserve to be so! Looking at our society, in general we see two classes of people – on the one hand we have those who think they are great and behave so; on the other we have those who are truly great, but are happily unaware of it and living an altogether simple and frugal life; the latter are clouded incognito. I will go to the extent of saying that true greatness comes from the moral strength and conviction that we are but a spec in the sky; just a tiny little drop of water in the ocean.

Today I would like to read again those wonderful words of Mary’s song of praise and thanksgiving (popularly known as the magnificat), where she glorifies God for sending the rich away empty, for bringing down from their thrones, and filling the poor with riches. She talks about the reversal of fate. Today may be a good time for me to pause and ask myself on which side of the spectrum do I stand? Do I consider myself too high to be reached, too good for the people I deal with, too talented for the job I handle? Or do I feel unworthy to live in the company of beautiful people I share my life; fortunate to be given such responsible jobs I can hardly imagine? In fact, my heart will tell me how I feel just now! If I really feel so humbled and grateful, I cannot boast of being great and mighty and powerful, but the world will know that that is what I truly I am!

When Nature Spread Carpets...

All around I see a white carpet of snow, carefully strewn on plants, housetops, on top of every conceivable object on the lanes and by-lanes of this vast city. It is a treat to one’s eyes, and as I walked along the streets, with hedgerows piled with snow, I stretch out my hand to touch them, and they immediately slip from my hands, as if playing hide-n-seek with me. Unadulterated white powder generously strewn, no human mechanism may be able to reproduce such artistry, such delicate work of love. But alas, there is hardly anyone to even take note of this wondrous miracle! Gifts of nature abound all around us, every day, and every hour and every minute, and we need a thousand eyes to behold her beauty, not out there, but here and now.

The greatest miracle-worker, nature, does not measure and give to the world; her gifts are always in unlimited measure, like a true lover showering all that he has on his beloved. He does not calculate and measure when it comes to self-offering. Nature gives all that she has, and the best gift that she could give to the world is herself, and is there anyone to receive them? As I walked along a park with lovely carpet of snow all around, so soft and so gentle, at times I felt indignant to put my foot on them! Oh, how can I be so cruel to stamp this lovely gift of nature? I would like to take this gift in both my hands and give it a gentle kiss! Oh no! I am too old to do that! I should be a little child to do that, and no one would frown at me; they would think that it was part of my childish play. But now, I have to be careful as to what others will think, how they would regard me if I were to do that. I cannot be entirely what I am as I behold nature; I have to be heartless and emotionless before her bounty.

Nature’s great gift lying in vain, unregarded, uncared, and the vast part with trees around, I can find hardly anyone. A gift is often exchanged only between people who care for each other; we do not give gifts to someone we do not like. Nature showers her gifts on us only out of her boundless love for us, and even if we do not treasure her gifts, is it not proper that we at least receive them with dignity and honor? What we can give her in return is a big question, we cannot enter into, but is it not human to treat her with love for giving to her gifts we surely do not deserve? The only people who really recognize this gift are children; I could see three children while walking along the road, play with snow, throwing it on one another. She becomes the object of joy and happiness among people, and probably that is the reason why she came down from heaven. Is it not true then that when she is down, the temperature is kept under control? How can we be so blind to take note of her in our midst?

If the weather is cloudy for days on end, then we look forward to the sun, and are very happy when he turns up (though science would warn us that it is not he who turns up, but that we who turn ourselves to him!), and we get out of our heated rooms, to be bathed in the natural stream of warmth and life. But when the sun light is too much in abundance, we hardly take note of him, and the gifts of nature that come in large measure become a routine object, like the church bell chiming each day at the appointed time, or the train passing by with a loud horn at a particular hour each day! Unfortunately we have so many things to keep us busy the whole day long, that even some of the most beautiful events and incidents of life become routine exercises, and we can care very less. There may be a year, when we may not find snow spreading a lovely white carpet all around our city, and then we may complain to nature what made her turn to us harshly, for denying the lovely gift!

Today I would like to pause for a while to reflect about the different gifts of nature that come to me unannounced, unprepared! They come to me so casually without much pomp that I don’t pay attention to them, and they may even escape my notice, and I may miss them forever. Today I go through my mind’s eye and enlist all such gifts that come to me freely – the air I breathe, the water I drink, the sunlight and the moonlight at day and night respectively, the cool breeze that soothe my drooping spirit, and enliven my heart, the blue sky that takes me beyond the horizon, the birds of the air and the flowers, plants, even a little grass has tidings of joy and happiness for me! They all make the world and my life beautiful, if I really care for them. Today I fold my hands in sincere reverence and love for nature, for her unconditional love for humanity! I do not dare to promise her that hence forth I will take her seriously, and accept her gifts with open arms; if I do that, then I will have to regret for making such a promise I cannot keep. I plead with her to bear with me when I am blind to her beauty, deaf to her music, senseless to her soothing sensations, tasteless to savor her sweetness, and give me the grace to accept her whole-heartedly into myself and be immersed by her love beyond all measure! (Brussels)

Divided We Live

There is no creature on earth as authoritarian and self-centered as the human beings. Unfortunately we have come to believe that the human beings are the centre of the universe, and everything is at the behest of them. I am intrigued to think that we have fragmented the world that we received thousands of years ago, and the world is slowly dying, and I wonder if we will be alive to give her a decent burial. We have cut the earth as if it was a birthday cake we would like to share with others, and today in the name of sovereignty and supremacy, we have broken the world into pieces demarcating for ourselves and preventing others to enter into our territory. That I think is the height of human mockery of the unity of the universe. We cannot think of the universe as one, because we are used to seeing ourselves as different from others. What annoys me is the wired-fence that divides this earth into countries and nations, preventing freedom of movement.

If birds of the air enjoy that absolute freedom to move wherever they want, even migrating thousands of miles in order to avoid the bone-chilling cold, or the scorching heat of the sun, why can’t human beings be so; if the fish of the ocean can move from one end to the other, spending a good part if not the whole of her life, why can’t we. If I move from one place to another, clandestinely sneaking through the wire-fence, I am penalized, and put behind bars. When I am born, I am not born as an Indian or Belgian or a Filippino (Pinoy), but I am born as a human being. I am born as part of the human family without any boundaries. But as soon as I see the light of the day, a tag is tied to my wrist that I am an Indian or an American. I carry this tag till I fall into the ground again, and when I am placed inside the womb of mother earth, I go as I had come, without any tag. I die as a human being, without any identity. Then why do I need to entertain the wire-fence.

Who has limited my freedom of movement; the word is in fragments. No one carries with him or her even a square foot of earth. We all of us will die empty-handed; then why is this demarcation? There is fear in some people that if the wire-fence is removed, then there will be a mad-rush to wealthy nations, and soon the riches of the nation will be drained, and the locals and the natives may be deprived of the riches they had been enjoying for centuries. But isn’t that logic first of all based on false and erroneous premises? The wealth of the earth belongs to the humanity, not only to the people of one particular group; the oil of the Gulf does not belong to them, the gold mines of the America do not belong to them; we behave as if we have worked for this. By claiming absolute power and authority over the natural resources, we have brought infamy upon humanity. How can the custodians of oil fields in the Gulf live in palatial buildings, while hundreds of thousands die of hunger and thirst in the African and Asian countries?

I have neither the intelligence nor the means to undertake a novel research to eradicate all wire-fences, so that the wealth that we invest in guarding the boundaries, preventing people of one “nation” trespassing into another land, may be better utilized to improve basic amenities to the downtrodden, and the backward class people. Let no one claim power and authority over the land, which does not belong to any one particular group, even if they are the original settlers of the land. The earth does not belong to anyone, neither to me, nor to you. Let us think of the land as we think of the sun and the moon, and the oceans. Thank God, we have not made demarcations on the ocean, to say that the water till that line belong to us… I would like to be the almighty God for just one minute, or just one second, if that could ever be granted. I have only one wish as the all-powerful God : in a fraction of a second, to uproot all wire-fences, and replace them with flower plants all over. People then will present one another bouquets and flowers, sharing not only what they have, but also what they are.

While we talk about the boundaries that separate us on the basis of the nation and country, there are also other smaller boundaries and limits that we create for our own convenience. Today I would like to pause for a while to think of all the different boundaries I have created for myself, on the basis of my caste, creed, nationality, religion, culture, profession, interests, tastes, color of the skin, language… every time I make a frantic attempt to belong to a particular group, then I am excluding myself from a wider group, or humanity. Our social structures compel me to belong to different social groups, but I am also free to be by myself, so that I enjoy the freedom that I am born with. Today I would like to consciously dissociate myself from all the different groups I am part of, and consciously brief myself as belonging to the community of the universe. As I sit quietly to contemplate this great feeling, let me see in my mind the endless ocean of men and women surrounding me, and I slowly getting dissolved in this limitless ocean. Let me feel the energy flow from one person to another, enriching and ennobling the entire human race. Can I then ever tolerate wire-fences separating me from my own brothers and sisters? (Brussels)

Thank you Net!

When computers were slowly entering into the lanes and bylanes of our lives many years ago, many thought that it was an Alladin’s magic lamp, which could provide solutions to many of the problems which haunted humanity, and they were hopeful that the machine would soon compete with the human mind in providing solutions, not only mathematical and scientific, but also may take hold of the lives of ordinary mortals. On the other side of the spectrum were people who were very skeptical about the role and function of computers in our lives. They considered the computer as an agent of the devil, or the evil one to use a non-religious word! They were not only cautious, but also warned humanity of the great disaster that maybe brought about by the machine. Many years after the computer was born, the skeptics were face to face with a greater danger to their sanity and sanctity, the advent of the World Wide Web. The world was placed in front of us on a platter, and it is for us to take it or not, but it has sneaked into all that we can think of and is the spirit that pervades the earth.

It would be futile for me to speak for or against the computers and how they have shaped the world today, and information technology has brought the world within our fists, as one cellular phone company has its slogan as. The internet has opened a sea of information for us; there is a danger of being drowned in this sea, but one may also find rich treasures in it, and make use of them for one’s own growth. Often when confronted with problems, perhaps the best friend one may turn today is the www.google.com. And invariably there may be solutions that may make you smile, and very seldom does the internet turn you down. There is anything you want in the net, but I have seen that for a discerning mind, it has all the riches one may seek. It is a double edged sword; one may use it for self-defense, at the same time it could be used to kill one and others. The choice is ours.

In the modern world, people have become so busy that they have very little time for other persons. Time is the most expensive thing in the world today for some, and they may not be able to spare even a few moments to listen to others and give counsel. One has to try to find one’s own solutions to the problems that confront one today, and can no longer look to another for help and support. Over the years, the internet has come to fill the vacuum created by the modern times. A ready reckoner, friend in need, guide in trouble – that is what the internet today is. Let me illustrate this point with an illustration. Before I left the country for a month-long visit to the Europe, I had to reload the Windows in my laptop, and subsequently the program I frequently use, including the Microsoft Office. Since I did the loading just before I was to leave the city, I did not care to install some of the programs (in computer language drivers) required to run internet (LAN driver). When I reached Brussels, I realized I had not loaded this particular driver, meant for this particular brand of laptop. I had not taken the original CD given at the time of purchase of the laptop which contained the necessary driver. I knew where I had to look for help. I went to the internet and looked for the driver, and in an hour, I was running internet from my laptop.

I know it is not the time to shower encomium on the internet, but I have realized that many a time, it had solved many of the problems which might have cost me time as well as pinched my purse. If the internet has in a sense killed the markets and made many a technocrat unemployed, it is also true that it has opened the gates of opportunities to willing souls, at the least price. You might get anything you want without paying a penny, and you don’t even need to run around looking for that, it is given to you on a platter at your study or reading room, or anywhere you are with your laptop and an internet connection. Most of the well-known books are available online, not only for a price, but also free. There I can find every forbidden subject on earth freely available, there are also everything that is sacred. The beauty of the internet is that it has brought together into a matrimonial alliance sacred and profane, religious and secular, this worldly and other worldly, mundane and spiritual; whatever it be, you will get what you are looking for. Isn’t that a beautiful thing.

Today I would like to pause for a while to reflect on what the world has become thanks to the advancement of technology. It has opened the floodgates of grace to enter into every nook and cranny of our little world. I would like to thank the millions of men and women who have spent millions of hours to crunch the world to fit to our purses, tastes and fancies. I would like to remember the countless number of persons who have generously offered fruit of their labor, so that humanity may enjoy the benefits. I would like to think with gratitude all those who have foregone their earnings and payments in order to make available their sweat and toil for the less privileged. It is not that life would be meaningless without the internet and the email, but life has been ennobled because of them. I would like to call the internet as a channel of grace, which has the potentiality to turn the world into a home of peace and serenity; but as is wont, wherever grace resides, sinfulness to hides beneath her skin. But I will have a plea to make : let us not throw the baby together with the bath water! (Brussels)

Sheethoshna Sukhadukheshu…

It was 3.45 p.m. As I stood at the corner of the street where I stayed, an electronic display board read the current temperature of the place : -3 Celsius. Earlier during breakfast, I was told that in the morning hours, the mercury dipped to -10, and in the Southern areas it further dipped to -16. As I dared to have a firsthand look at the city streets of Brussels, I was welcomed by a white carpet of snow, which had rained yesterday. I was a wonderful sight for the eyes, but not to the inhabitants for whom it was far from a beautiful sight. The consolation is that when it snowed, the temperature will not dip as low as it had done this time. So seeing the snow fall is better than seeing the mercury dip further and further. But then life has not come to a standstill. I can see through the window of my room, which stands beside the street, rows of cars beautifully draped with white sheets of snow. All that I can see is an aerial wire jutting out of the white sheet.

Nature knows how to dress up the earth, and beneath the beauty that she spreads, there stands a little thorn to remind us that we are not the masters of our situations all together. Nature holds the key to the wellbeing of humanity, and all our attempts to fight nature may ultimately prove to be a false dream, and we may be the greatest losers in the battle. While spending three fierce winters in Delhi some years ago, I had told my friends that I would not mind cold winters as against the scorching heat of summer. Our city had been fortunate not to hit the extremes; while the winter is moderate, the summer does not scorch us to the extreme altogether. But I would like to think of the people who are forced to get accustomed to extremities of nature, for no fault of their own. The worst of winter and summer is something we have very little control over; however our bodies are adept to adjust according to the surrounding conditions.

The title of this blog has been taken from chapter 9 of Bhagavad Gita, which talks about who is dear to the Lord: after saying that s/he is the one who is the same in happiness or sadness, in thought and in eagerness, in good and bad, in cold and in warmth, and in contempt and in praise. It is not that easy to remain the same in differing situations and circumstances. As human beings, we are pushed to prefer one to another, and that is ingrained in ourselves, and have very little that we can actually do. We cannot ask someone to remain dead to varying situations and it happens without much effort from our side. Then what does the Gita say about the indifference that we need to possess in order to become his dear. Is it at all possible?

What is difficult for us need not be utterly impossible, but often in life, we take it for granted that what is difficult is not desirable. We have also seen that what is difficult at the time of action is deemed one of the most important and enjoyable thing at the end of the action. Therefore it is obvious that we often go by the sensations and physical feelings, rather than entering into the true self of the personhood. What we considered at the enjoyable thing can turn out to be our nightmare. To keep ourselves abreast to what nature may offer us is an art in itself, and most of us are novices in this area. It is very few people who achieve this art. And the people who have managed to keep themselves not to be easily swayed by what the body may conceive as good or bad, are the people who enjoy the benefits and blessings of nature.

Today I present myself in the presence of God and look into myself to find the areas where I am already prejudiced as to persons, events, incidents, ideas, principles and opinions. The start point of my journey to reach true indifference that the Gita talks about is truly the recognition of the blocks my mind and body put before my spirit. Once I clear these, then I may be in a better position to receive whatever may come my way. To put it in a figurative way, for the person who is prepared to receive the blessings of nature or God, everything may be alike, cold or heat, pleasure or pain. I would like to enter into the great mystery which says that reality as it is in the true sense neutral, and it is the human mind which makes the difference. It is the colored glasses that I wear which can make me believe that one is better than the other, but in fact, one may be as good as the other. I would like to prepare my heart and mind to receive reality as it comes to me without putting any conditions! (Brussels)

Be My Friend!

The weather in the city had been considerate towards this foreigner, who had come to have a first-hand experience of the country. The mercury soared from -10 to 0, making some allowance for me to venture into the street, to witness the snow-capped vehicles, trees and terraces. It was a beautiful sight for the eyes, but I would not think it was the same to the residents. Yesterday one of my senior friends confided that the temperature we had been experiencing in the past few days was the lowest in the last 10 years. While we hoped that the temperature may come to a normal state, allowing normal works and life to resume. It was cold, and going out in such cold weather was not something that one might enjoy; everyone rather would like to stay indoors. But there are some who have no other alternative; whether it is rain or shine, snow or dry, they have to get down to the streets. I look at them with so much of kindness, and feel they too make life worth living for quite a few.

Looking through the glass window of my room onto the road, often I see people on the road; most of the time, people walk alone. Seldom have I come across people going in a group. Sometimes there are parents with two or three of their children. Today I saw three children throwing snow at one another, while their mother coolly walking ahead of them. But often I see people who walking alone had a minor companion: puppies. While the men or women who take them alone are well-protected from the cool wind and the nail-biting cold, these creatures have nothing to complain. Rather they have neither the voice nor the audacity to complain. They have no choice to choose from, whether to accompany their masters or mistresses, or to remain indoors. They have not been taught the art of saying no gracefully, and so according to the whims and fancies of their guardians, they have to accompany them wherever they go. I would not say that these tiny creatures are often ill-treated by their custodians, but they have absolutely no freedom to be all by themselves. Many of them receive royal treatment at home, and sometimes are the centre of attraction in the family. But they are there always at the disposal of their guardians.

I really wonder what these puppies would tell their guardians were they given the gift of human speech; would they protest or joyfully go wherever their guardians take them? It is hard for us to imagine what they would feel, though sometimes it is possible to make out how they react from their movements, but that is not the case always. I have heard of cinestars having specially bred and brought-up puppies as their pets, and they would shower all their love and concern for these puppies, sometimes going to the extent of spending a large per cent of their earning towards them. I have also heard of some rich ladies, who organized to have a decent (and expensive) burial for her pet, spending a huge part of her fortune. At the other side of the spectrum, we have people who would pay undue importance to their pet animals rather than the human persons they live with. I would not like to say that the pet animals should not be given love and care, but can showering more love and care to these pets rather than the persons we live with be ever justified? Here is something for us to think about!

Granted that I am not so much in favor of having a pet for me, I know that these pets can be truly sources of comfort and solace, especially when the human spirit dips. When human relations break, when the pendulum of fortune swings, when expectations do not materialize, when hopes crumble like a pack of cards, when the trusted ones betray, when family ties snap, these pets may stand by. They may offer or we may find a shoulder (if we think they have one) to lean on and shed tears! They may not share our suffering and pain, but they may stay with us, without wishing to run away. That is something beautiful about these pets, and that is something we can be grateful to them. But at the same time, we also need to think of them as independent creatures, having the same kind of freedom and independence that I desire for. Within the narrow limits of my existence and life at large, can I find ways of allowing these pets to live a life of their own? Can we allow a human person to take the place of these pets, so that we may experience greater intimacy and concern exchanged between?

Today I would like to pause for a while to think of all the pets that we grow with and love and care; they may have different names, shapes and forms, and they may receive different kinds of treat from their masters and mistresses. I would like to express our heartfelt gratitude to them, for their share of moral responsibility, and lightening up our burdens, when we are drowned needlessly by the cares of daily life. I would like to think of them, not so much as objects for me to use at my own whims and fancies, but to consider them as creatures with their own freedom and independence to be as they wish, without any external control imposed on them. We too may have a lot to learn from them, in submitting ourselves entirely at the hands of the one who leads our lives. Maybe it is then that we may realize a different kind of freedom that takes us to a different realm, far from the human. (Brussels)

Covered by a Crystal Carpet!

All around I see a white carpet of snow, carefully strewn on plants, housetops, on top of every conceivable object on the lanes and by-lanes of this vast city. It is a treat to one’s eyes, and as I walked along the streets, with hedgerows piled with snow, I stretch out my hand to touch them, and they immediately slip from my hands, as if playing hide-n-seek with me. Unadulterated white powder generously strewn, no human mechanism may be able to reproduce such artistry, such delicate work of love. But alas, there is hardly anyone to even take note of this wondrous miracle! Gifts of nature abound all around us, every day, and every hour and every minute, and we need a thousand eyes to behold her beauty, not out there, but here and now.

The greatest miracle-worker, nature, does not measure and give to the world; her gifts are always in unlimited measure, like a true lover showering all that he has on his beloved. He does not calculate and measure when it comes to self-offering. Nature gives all that she has, and the best gift that she could give to the world is herself, and is there anyone to receive them? As I walked along a park with lovely carpet of snow all around, so soft and so gentle, at times I felt indignant to put my foot on them! Oh, how can I be so cruel to stamp this lovely gift of nature? Fine crystal grains spread all around, shining in the soft warm rays of the sun. I would like to take this gift in both my hands and give it a gentle kiss! Oh no! I am too old to do that! I should be a little child to do that, and no one would frown at me; they would think that it was part of my childish play. But now, I have to be careful as to what others will think, how they would regard me if I were to do that. I cannot be entirely what I am as I behold nature; I have to be heartless and emotionless before her bounty.

Nature’s great gift lying in vain, unregarded, uncared, and the vast part with trees around, I can find hardly anyone. A gift is often exchanged only between people who care for each other; we do not give gifts to someone we do not like. Nature showers her gifts on us only out of her boundless love for us, and even if we do not treasure her gifts, is it not proper that we at least receive them with dignity and honor? What we can give her in return is a big question, we cannot enter into, but is it not human to treat her with love for giving to her gifts we surely do not deserve? The only people who really recognize this gift are children; I could see three children while walking along the road, play with snow, throwing it on one another. She becomes the object of joy and happiness among people, and probably that is the reason why she came down from heaven. Is it not true then that when she is down, the temperature is kept under control? How can we be so blind to take note of her in our midst?

If the weather is cloudy for days on end, then we look forward to the sun, and are very happy when he turns up (though science would warn us that it is not he who turns up, but that we who turn ourselves to him!), and we get out of our heated rooms, to be bathed in the natural stream of warmth and life. But when the sun light is too much in abundance, we hardly take note of him, and the gifts of nature that come in large measure become a routine object, like the church bell chiming each day at the appointed time, or the train passing by with a loud horn at a particular hour each day! Unfortunately we have so many things to keep us busy the whole day long, that even some of the most beautiful events and incidents of life become routine exercises, and we can care very less. There may be a year, when we may not find snow spreading a lovely white carpet all around our city, and then we may complain to nature what made her turn to us harshly, for denying the lovely gift!

Today I would like to pause for a while to reflect about the different gifts of nature that come to me unannounced, unprepared! They come to me so casually without much pomp that I don’t pay attention to them, and they may even escape my notice, and I may miss them forever. Today I go through my mind’s eye and enlist all such gifts that come to me freely – the air I breathe, the water I drink, the sunlight and the moonlight at day and night respectively, the cool breeze that soothe my drooping spirit, and enliven my heart, the blue sky that takes me beyond the horizon, the birds of the air and the flowers, plants, even a little grass has tidings of joy and happiness for me! They all make the world and my life beautiful, if I really care for them. Today I fold my hands in sincere reverence and love for nature, for her unconditional love for humanity! I do not dare to promise her that hence forth I will take her seriously, and accept her gifts with open arms; if I do that, then I will have to regret for making such a promise I cannot keep. I plead with her to bear with me when I am blind to her beauty, deaf to her music, senseless to her soothing sensations, tasteless to savor her sweetness, and give me the grace to accept her whole-heartedly into myself and be immersed by her love beyond all measure! (Brussels)

The ‘Golden’ Silence

One of the first things that I noticed while sitting for about three hours at the Germany’s Munich airport was the quietness all around. It was not that there were no people at the airport, but it seemed they had nothing so much to talk to. There might be an occasional self-talk of the children playfully running here and there, but the adults were in their own world. Even when families when sitting one after another waiting to board a flight were immersed in quiet ruminations, or lost in their own concerns. There were many who wished to kill the apparent silence by reading novels, news papers and magazines. I was telling my companion, what a difference it made between the airport in Kolkata or Delhi and Munich. They were worlds apart, and in fact it is futile to even make a comparison, because we are talking about two different worlds.

Two worlds! Two worldviews and it is hard to wed them. Am I trying to make a futile comparison? To be frank, the point of comparison is only a starting point to note, how two groups of people consider silence. For the Indians, or as extension for all the Asians, silence is not golden; the spoken words are golden. For the Europeans, the reverse is true. They would not like to pour themselves out in needless spoken words, and therefore for them silence is golden. It would be quite stupidity on my part to propose one to another, for there is something wanting in both the views, and very seldom have I come across people who could strike a balance between killing silence, and deafening mutterings.

We do need silence to quieten our hearts and minds, and look inward, and each day should have a share of silence, at least at one point of day, either early in the morning or before retiring to bed. I would prefer to have at least 15 minutes of silence for me – all by myself, without any disturbance from any one! I would not like to be distracted by anyone, for whatsoever reason – no cell phones, no urgent message, no knocking on the door, no ringing of the door bell! This 15 minutes is precious to me, to delve deep into myself, to align the loose ends of myself, and become aware of the different currents that flow in and out of myself, and take stock of my life for that day (what I would like to call, to take personal audit for the day). If I am not able to give myself the gift of this ‘sacred’ time, then my words may be just meaningless and may mean just nothing, both to me and to others. We may call this time prayer, meditation, yoga, contemplation… but the purpose is the same. To take an inward journey into myself to re-assess my inner resources and to prepare them to meet the demands of the day.

The other side of the picture too is equally valid. The ability to speak out and to pour myself out to someone else does not come naturally. Too much of silence may lead to depression and later to mental imbalance. It is not enough to become aware of the inner currents within me, but I also need to share what is going on within me with someone who either shares certain of my inner resources, or with someone who would reflect my moorings like a mirror, so that I may be able to see my thoughts, words and deeds as objectively as possible. It is often too easy to keep ourselves engaged in useless talk; we do not engage in serious talk with strangers we meet at the railway station or in the bus or at the market place. Our words there are calculated and measure, so that even by mistake we don’t enter into the personal and private lives of the people we converse with. If only I engage myself with some meaningful conversation with someone I have great confidence in for at least a few minutes, then my life may begin to flower forth, and spread its fragrance all around me.

Today I would like to take a few minutes from the daily routine for myself, to enter into the inner recesses of myself, to discover the streams of silence running in and through me. Let me stay at her shores, look at her beauty and charm, allow my feelings and emotions drown in these streams, and be transformed. I would like to stay with these steams for a while, without in anyway trying to run away from her. Let me enjoy the silence spreading to all over my body, into all my veins. I would like to feel the graciousness of silence relaxing my entire body. I would also like to consider the different persons with whom I was able to engage in some meaningful conversation, the persons who have touched me and helped me to see beauty within me and outside of me, who make life still meaningful and beautiful. In the silence of my heart, I would like to thank all such people, who make my life worth living, and when I get an opportunity to open myself to them, I would like to articulate such sentiments to them, for silence when wedded to meaningful words can make my life truly significant! (Bruxelles)

Not Finding the Silver Line…

It was a beautiful sight to see! About thiry men and women, young and old, surrounding a middle-aged man, and literally forcing him to act! I was part of the vocal men and women at Kolkata’s domestic airport, as we waited to catch a flight to Delhi, so that the next day we could board the flight to Brussels, via Munich. When we reached the airport at the reporting time, namely two hours before the scheduled departure, we were told by the Manager on duty of that particular airlines that the flight we had booked tickets in was cancelled, and they assured us of the full re-payment! But that was not the kind of arrangement we could ever think of. We had booked tickets through a different airlines from Delhi, and if we were to cancel the tickets at the eleventh hour, we may have to forfeit a large per cent of the ticket fare. Besides we had already informed several persons about our going, and necessary arrangments had already been made! Many of us found we were let down at the last hour by the airlines personnel.

After discussing with the manager on duty of the airlines for about thirty minutes, many of the passengers of the said flight became infuriated. We demanded the officer to start negotiating with personnel of other airlines, requesting them to offer some seats, so that at least those who were in dire need could take the flight the very day. After about an hour of coaxing and cajoling, the officer accepted to give a thought to it, thought some what indignantly. Deep within I knew we cannot afford to miss the connecting flight to international destinations, especially when the time period seemed quite difficult to make alternative arrangmenets. Helpless as I was, just like many of our co-passengers, I began to tell myself that there should be a way out, and we were going to travel the very day to Delhi, and catch the connecting international flights the next day. I was not sure if that was possible, and if the attempts of the airlines official would bear any fruit.

The fact was that there was utterly no hope; no silver lining. It was fully dark, but at such critical moments, we cannot afford to lose hope. Even if there was no chance, it was our sincere hope that things will turn out to our advantage that ultimately made it possible for 21 of us to board a later flight from a different airlines. Being part of the four hour drama, most of the time spent standing and listening to co-passengers, and occasionally clarifying a point or two, but at the end of it all, it was well worth. Even when many of my co-passengers said that ultimately everything may end up in an eye-wash, yet I was sure I was going to Delhi the very day. I did not even much care if others would go or not, but I had to go, and I would by all means go, come what may.

Just like me who had a connecting international flight, many other co-passengers too had connecting international flights, some were going to attend some international conferences. One young man made a plea with the official that his father was to be operated on the following day, and he had to be beside him. There was a young lady who was joining office for the first time after appointment on the following day, and she cannot afford to miss the first day in office. There was yet another young lady who was to meet some international business clients the following day, and she would not like to let down her partners. But more than pleas and requests, what really got us through was the sheer grit and will power that we have to be flying that very day.

Often in life it is so very easy to lose all hope, especially when we cannot see the silver line in the midst of darkest clouds, and when we give in to such hopelessness, then we end up at the dead-end. We end up more depressed and destressed. Today I would like to pause for a moment and recollect to mind the different moments when I had failed to hold on to my will-power and the hope that things will begin to smile, and the darkest clouds will begin to disappear. There could be quite a few events and incidents when I might have lost all hope, and in turn sank in disappointment. It requires a lot of guts and determination to hold on to one’s hope. We live in a world where to hold on to hope is something that is often laughed at, and frowned upon. Let me tell myself that tomorrow I will deliberately and consciously hold on to my storehouses of hope in the midst of hopelessness, and prove that there is nothing to lose for the one who hopes in the best in the worst of situations! (Munich Airport)