Calling on Convictions

It is hard to explain what my convictions mean to me; I have been shaped and molded by my many convictions over the years, and every major experience in life had taught me lessons, which are carved in my manifold convictions. They are in a sense sacred to me, because they are the guiding principles, based on which I adjust each of my future moves. I find it very difficult when someone challenges them, leave alone questions the authenticity of them. Not everyone understands that we do not arrive at convictions over night, they are like plants which take months and years to grow and stand firmly on their roots. It might be easy for some who do not know to just pooh pooh them.

We always look at reality around us with our subjective eyes, and there is hardly anything which could be called objective in our perspectives. That is why Milton’s famed words, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. If that is the case, there is bound to be differences of opinion, and it is wrong to dissect and analyse them, or do a comparative study of them. What I have learned from life may be diametrically different from what someone else has learned. Life is not an objective reality, but is a subjective reality which shapes persons according to the degree of their openness and transparency. In this regard, every experience in life is important to the person who is ready to take the best out of experiences.

Thank God for the differences of opinion in the way we look at reality around us, and because of this we are able to improve on things. If every one thought in the same way, and looked at reality with the same vision, then there would be hardly anything to be perfected. It is only because some are able to go beyond the periphery and look into the matter of things that we are able to fine-tune reality and present them in a way which can be a perfect image of reality as far as human mind can perceive. Comparing the convictions of persons can be a dangerous act, which may brand people and straight-jacket them on the basis of their perception.

Not all convictions stay with us all through life; just as they take a long time to get shaped, it takes a long time for them to fade into thin air. I still remember many of my youth convictions have disappeared as I matured; I dropped them whenever I found then in direct conflict with life-promoting elements. I have learned that I cannot hold on to any conviction or ideology or perspective which is not promoting life; I have learned to look at the brighter side of life, and we may find a million ways how life is a means of promoting vitality and energy, and bringing the best out of human persons. Ultimately I have learned that I cannot hold on to convictions which are in out of sync with the present world, and do not help me to find my way.

It is impossible to drop my convictions, even when I realize that they are out of date with the present times; they will take their due course to fall from the tree; just like every autumn is the season for trees to drop down the old and outdated, and help new leaves to shoot up during spring. Life too has designed such a plan for all of us, and it is our duty to allow such time and space for nature to play such harmonious chord in life. Any attempt to drop down convictions and viewpoints without proper consideration, may only result in ripple effects which may disturb the harmony we enjoy within our selves and with the world around us. This is what we call “adjustment”, which is one of the primary concepts which we need to pay attention to when we are working with others.

Fatal Obsession

The young man is talented, and is a gentleman to the core; but the problem with him is that he wishes to belong to a group of people who do not wish to consider themselves “gentlemen” in the way the world around would understand. He is too polished to belong to this group of men who make sincere attempts to be down to earth. His one and only interest in Indian classical music has kept him away from his other companions who have varied interests, and are not as obsessed as this gentleman, and that is where the problem begins. He has been thinking all along that he was made for music, and nothing else, and would do anything to pursue his interest in music, even by hook or by crook.

This attitude of the gentleman had landed him in trouble on several occasions; his condescending attitude towards his companions who are not as gifted as he is in music is sometimes so very evident that one can make out his motives. Unfortunately he has always considered himself the “best” of the lot in music, and if anyone else were to occupy his place, he finds it hard to accept, leave alone join others to sing or play the instruments. He has been doing this for several years, and maybe he will continue to do this for all the years to come, until he is cornered to face a realistic situation, where he might find his illusions crumble to nothing. But no one knows for sure, when that moment will come.

No one understands me and my interests – this has been one of his refrains to others all the time; anyone who does not encourage him to pursue his sole-interest in music is against him, and all those who let him have his way are good to him. If anyone were to understand him, then they should take it for granted that he is the most versatile classical singer; if they do not honor him with that recognition, then they are considered as music illiterate. This has been his trend, and we do not know where exactly he would land up after a few years; but one thing is sure, his life is not going to be a smooth sail… he is bound to face several storms and typhoons.

I would not think that music had made him less of a human; no. Any true music is supposed to arouse the human heart towards the appreciation of beauty and truth. If that does not happen with this gentleman that is an indication that something had gone wrong somewhere during his upbringing. It is hard for me to go to the details of how he came to be so obsessive with music all these years, and no one had administered to him the much needed shock therapy, to wake him up from the psychological slumber he is still in. Probably once he wakes up from this slumber, then he might be able to see truth as it is, without any additional color glasses.

But who would tell him that what he sees through the eyes of his obsession with music is only partial truth, and there are more elements which may be of greater importance than music, and lead him to enjoy beauty and truth in a more intense way. So long he is obsessed with music, he is not going to see beauty in other elements of nature or human creation. There is beauty in the blue sky, there is beauty in the creepers, helplessly climbing on a tree, there is splendor in a rose or lilly; we don’t need to strain ourselves to see beauty around us, and it would be narrow mindedness to think only music has rhythm. If I can find rhythm in the songs of the birds, in thunder and the rumbling of the streams, then I will find the most soothing music in nature, and then I may not need to take asylum with human-made music!

Glimpse of Eden

Who would not like a serene and secure atmosphere of Dhyan Ashram, with plenty of trees, gardens, and water bodies! It is like taking a glimpse of what the Garden of Eden could have been, before the serpent tricked the first parents. The air is cool and the atmosphere is pleasant. There is a silence, which the trees and plants, frantically try to preserve and pass on to everyone who drops in here. It is rightly a place of Dhyan, of meditation, and though our purpose in coming here today is nothing to do with meditation, but we see several men and women who are steeped in meditation.

To forget the self and to be immersed in the thought of the creator or his/her (could we not think of the creator as a feminine force!) creation, or to enter into the inner recesses of oneself and listen to the murmurs of the life-spirit, or to the whispers of the soul! We are too frightened of taking time off, to enter into the self; the most enjoyable trip that is ever possible is to dive into the inner self, because that is where miracles await us, where flowers wait for us to bloom, where birds await us to start their singing. But the world has kept us tied to itself that we find impossible to break free.

I see the men and women of all ages lost in their worlds of prayer and meditation; it is impossible for me to fathom their minds and hearts, but looking at their faces, one thing is sure that their minds are not preoccupied with the material world that we are so busy with; they are probably thinking of a reality which is far removed from the worldly reality we live at each moment of our lives. But to take time out and be by ourselves is what can give us the psychic energy and stamina to go ahead with life, in spite of all the odds which attempt to make our lives miserable.

It is impossible to enter into our inner selves, from within our familiar surroundings; we are interrupted and disturbed at every now and then, that we cannot concentrate on our journey inwards. There are telephones, mobile phones, television, children, friends drop in just to say hello, the familiar songs being played at the neighborhood… these all can become distractions when we make a sincere effort to dive deep into our selves. But a quiet and serene atmosphere such as this can become helpful to plunge into ourselves boldly and courageously.

Besides helping us to dive into the deeper recesses of our own selves, nature has the ability to soothe our wounded selves, and balm our pains and worries. There is no greater companion to us than nature, with all their colors and charm, scent and radiance. If only we know how to appreciate and communicate with nature, then we may spend hours and hours in her company. It does not require great artistic sense to appreciate nature in all her glory, just a sense of wonder can take us a long way in being true companions to nature all around us. But here we are in a privileged place to behold one of the best forms of nature, and I spend a few moments to silently commune with her!

Date with Fate

One of the very senior sisters asked for my prayers for her younger brother who is fighting a fierce battle with cancer; the doctors have given him three months, and then he would be no more. There is no medicine which can really give him relief, and so he is counting his days. Just imagine a man counting the 90 days the doctors have given him. Given that he had remained single whole of his life, now entering into 75th year, what would be the kind of feelings he might be going through. I feel frightened to imagine such a situation; what can you do with the 90 days left on earth, and what is it that you would carry with you when the clock strikes at your last breath parts?

I was told that this gentleman told his 12 years senior sister that he was not afraid of facing death; he would be happy to be united with Jesus, his Lord! I shudder even as I imagine the man uttering these words rather joyously and courageously. Sometimes we have no other explanation in life than to resort to spiritualization of the fate we are pushed to. If we are pawns in the hands of gods, what is it that we can really do, than to resign to what they would wish for us? The situation might be quite different if he had had a family to care for; he would not have been left alone in the hospital ward, with friends occasionally dropping by, but this is a different kind of end than the one we are used to.

Science and technology have improved to such an extent that physicians are able to diagnose most of the ailments, though they may have to get a dozen blood tests to be done, and provide appropriate remedy, so that the doors to death are kept locked for many more years to come. But still there are certain doors which humanity is unable to keep locked for too long; they do not have much control over death, coming through the back door. Cancer and heart attacks are the two modern agents of death, and if cancer kills a person slowly and steadily, heart attack kills the person soon, if not diagnosed immediately. We lost our brother-in-law on the spot; we could never think the end would come so soon.

Sometimes I do this exercise : imagine that when I get up the next morning, I am no more; in such a situation, how should I handle myself. Sometimes while doing this exercise, I automatically arrange my table neatly, keep my room a little neat and tidy, and put a little order in the room, so that if I die, I do not leave a mess behind. But I need to do this exercise more often in order to complete the unfinished works soon, constantly make effort to put an order in my room, especially in keeping the things in their respective places, completing the unfinished tasks, so that the person who may look for things may not curse me then!

But deep within I feel so terrible for this man! How can life be so cruel to him? 90 days may pass by so fast, and one fine morning the physicians may tell him his final hour has come. I secretly hope that the word of the doctors does not come true; if only this man has got desire to live and not die, then probably no ailments and cancer can really take away his life. I have seen a few religious Sisters fighting with cancer joyously, even after the doctors had given them the number of years and months they may live; but they have disproved medical science, because their zest for life is so strong that death cannot approach them. The beauty of these people is that they have managed to defeat death, and that is the reason why these people are so very joyous and enthusiastic.

Fighting with Fate

It came as a surprise for me! I could not think that her mother was a mentally challenged person, who died yesterday, and two of her siblings had inherited the mental disturbance of her mother. Only she and one of her brothers had been spared from severe mental breakdown. To make things worse, her father had deserted the family some twenty years ago, and had married another lady. The family had been adopted by Mother Teresa, and all the children had been brought up by her sisters ever since. It is a sad story and who would think that life would be so very cruel to her, even as she dreams of a life with classical dance.

She seems to have told a friend of mine that she would not like to perpetuate the generation with mental disabilities, and so would be happy to live alone. Wedded to an art is not something that is uncommon in art circles; some of the greatest artists and literati were single, and had left behind works which could be considered, if not called, their consorts. She is probably aware that she is aging faster than she would have thought; after setting foot at thirty, it is not easy for a woman to look back to have a married life; at least such a thing is next to impossibility in our country. But as her story slowly unfolds, I feel sad for her; how could God be so very cruel to punish her for no fault of hers?

Luckily there is a saving grace: her dance. At least there is an excuse for her to hide the real reason which haunts her: the stigma that she is forced to carry, that her mother was a mentally challenged person, and her siblings too carry the same "virus", and what is the guarantee that she has been fully spared? Is she to be condemned to the fate of the 'devadasis' of the South Indian temples, who carried on the classical dance tradition, bearing the brunt of being women who were dedicated to the Lord (but in fact used and abused by the priestly class!)? All the doors seem to be closed for her, even as she begins to put a brave face before all the people, who luckily cannot read her heart!

Probably it may be quite obvious from her dance; certain amount of stiffness, and seriousness, which hide her genuine beauty and gracefulness. As is the case, we cannot hide all that we wish; certain amount of our self is revealed even without our consciously knowing. There are several things in her heart which need to be poured out; the baggage she has been carrying for years may make her journey tedious and tiresome; she may be prone to frequent bouts of anger and temper, which are the expressions of the mounting tension deep within her. It may not be surprising that if she does not begin to handle herself, she too may find herself in her mother's place, and may be forced to let life take the upper hand.

Helplessness is not the word that describes her predicament; the calculated ways how life is denying her the simple and soft pleasures is more than any person can bear. But most often in life, we have no bargaining capacity with life; we have to accept what is offered. I am still hopeful that something good may come her way, if not immediately, but at least after a few months and years, when she might be able to laugh heartily, smile genuinely, and look at the golden rays of the morning sun and feel proud to be a human person to appreciate her beauty. Today I join the entire universe in wishing her that day come her way soon.

Beauty and Beast

Today the Indian subcontinent witnessed one of the most spectacular diamond rings in the sky, when the annular solar eclipse was sighted from the Southern most tip of the country, and there were a lot of people flocking to Dhanushkodi and to Kanyakumari! One may still remember that these are the very places which had witnessed some years ago one of the worst onslaughts of tsunami! The spectacular show has come as a consoling factor to the tsunami ravaged coastal region of Tamil Nadu, which is still to rise from the harvest festival Pongal slumber. So the wonderful celestial sight was a feast to the star-gazers, if not the coastal fisherfolks, for whom the eclipse was nothing more than a sophistication of a natural event.

But day before yesterday nature showed its ferocious face in Haiti, when an earthquake devoured over 50,000 men and women. Seven richter scale is nothing so low to bring down buildings, and there were people who were buried under the debris, and never to see the light of day. There are more and more natural calamities over which the human beings have too little control. Nature however had its own mechanism to avert major calamities which would cost the earth dearly; but the human intervention has undone these mechanism, to such an extent that it is hard for nature not to be stern. And when nature is hard, the first casualty is the human persons en masse!

If the earthquake has shaken Haiti day before yesterday, our turn may come any time; we are called to be prepared to face the tune of the angry earth. The human race which had mercilessly killed nature’s sap, are to replace them with their own blood, and yet it is doubtful if the earth would tally the accounts and start life anew! But one of the most nagging questions which disturb many of the underdeveloped or developing nations is, why they be held responsible for the destruction of the earth and her resources by the developed nations? Who are the people who have plundered the earth’s resources and filled their pockets? Is it not unfair to make the innocent people held responsible for what they do not know?

The irony of earth’s divine sport is that on the one hand she reveals herself as one of the most charming, beautiful of all created things; and on the other side is her ferocious side! Beauty and beast seem to co-exist, and who else but Lord William Blake can try to reconcile these contradictions. Without contraries is no progression, Blake was to have told, and that is why he brought in Lamb and Tyger (Blake’s spelling), representing innocence and experience. True, the humanity was innocent some centuries ago, and today the experienced men and women would only find ways of exterminating any beauty still left on earth, and it is proper that we see the beastly face of earth!

Humanity is all in praise for the wonders of the earth, and they will make melodies to sing her praises, so long the charm is still there, and she shows her beautiful face, spilling innocence. Humanity is frightened of the other side of the earth, the angry planet, ready to teach humanity a fitting lesson, so that they do not play with fire, which can devour all that is, and is yet to be! As we admire the most spectacular diamond ring of the century, let us not forget the hundreds of thousands of people in Haiti, who are fighting with their lives for no fault of their own, and bring them to our consciousness, so that their cry, pain and anguish may heal our greed and selfishness, so that we may in turn heal the wounds of the earth!

The Flowers... Unplucked!

There is no other creature on earth, which is as possessive as the human beings are. We want to possess everything which may seem beautiful, everything which sounds soothing, everything which tastes palatable... we cannot wait to think about the cost, we have to get them by hook or by crook. If we cannot move the Kanchanjhanga to our drawing room, then we have to at least get its replica (even if it only on a glossy sheet of paper) framed on the walls of the room. If Taj Mahal cannot come to my study, then I move the picture of it to wherever I wish it to be! There is an insatiable thirst in human beings to possess whatever is good!

It is my personal conviction that nature is at her best, in her habitat! The real beauty of a freshly-bloomed blossom is not when it sits on the table, with an ornate vase holding it tightly, but when it sways from its plant. The blossom may feel feeble and weak, when hanging recklessly from the plant, but it adds to the overall beauty that the plant may evoke in a person. If the flower plants had a voice to speak out, they may plead with human beings not to sever them from the plant! But I do understand if we stop plucking flowers, our life would be quite different.

We might try our best to recreate natural surroundings to accomodate the lovely flowers we admire and treasure, but any artificial surrounding cannot produce the natural results as we would wish to. Taming a ferocious tiger, putting her behind a celler and asking her to pretend to be ferocious in a zoological garden is asking for too much. You cannot put a pair of love birds inside a cage, and ask them to make love! If that were true, then the earth may not be the best place for human beings to be what we truly are!

There is a move among eco-conscious men and women today not to offer flowers to welcome dignitories, but instead they would love to offer each of the dignitories with a flower pot, so that they need not keep the bouquet and throw it in the dustbin the next day, but care for the plant, and enjoy the flowers it may yield! Keeping flower plants in a pot is surely an artificial arrangement, but what prevents them from transferring the plant to the soil back at home? If more and more people were to do this, then we may find more flowers on the plants dancing to the tune of the wind and rain, creating a thousand magical moments in our mindscreen.

I am not a fanatic animal lover, like some people are, who might go to any extent to show that a lot of violence is done to animals, and there are non-vegetarian animal-lovers too, which is an oxymoron. But I would love not to pluck flowers so that we can feast our eyes. Thank God, there are boards in public gardens, requesting people not to pluck flowers, because if I pluck a flower, only I may enjoy the beauty of the flower; but if the flower continues to be on the plant, more people will be able to be charmed by its beauty. Next time, when my hand rushes to pluck a flower... I hope to pause and let the flower be where it is, but I may have a long look at it, appreciating its beauty and fragrance!

Plateful of Flowers

When someone is sick and is admitted into a nursing home or hospital, it is customary for friends and neighbors, to carry a “Get well soon” card with a bouquet of flowers. As I am recuperating from a bout of influenza, I received a bouquet of flowers, a plateful of e-flowers. Nature’s pure gift, unalloyed, groomed by rain and shine, and a little bit of human care! It is not only a feast to the eyes, but it also brings the best of nature to our doorsteps. The seasonal flowers seldom fail, even if the monsoon rains fail. They follow nature’s pre-designated cycle, and come what may, they are there with their beauty and fragrance.

The rain-soaked flowers sitting leisurely on the plate, holding each other making the best circle of friendship that can ever be imagined or re-created, is a sight that can transport us to an altogether different realm, if only we are look into the blossoms. Unity in diversity is what they uphold, by mingling with flowers of different shades, all adding to the cosmic rhythm, that the universe is still safe and secure. But don’t jump too much into their short-span of life; it is human beings who evaluate the quality of our lives by the number of years we have lived, not so for nature.

Is it not a wonderful thing to contemplate how nature has a different kind of life-guide than the human beings? The birds and insects, trees and shrubs all of them have a million stories to tell the human beings, if only we have the ears to listen to them. Today we listen to what these blossoms staring at me tell, or wish to tell at this moment! We don’t need to keep our ears to listen to them, but keep the doors of our hearts ajar, so that their words may enter into us, and transform the way we look at life at large. Once they touch us, we may look at nature with different eyes.

I am fascinated by the instance in the Bhagavad Gita, where Arjuna pleads with Lord Krishna that he might receive His cosmic vision. Krishna chides Arjuna saying that with human eyes he cannot behold his eternal, celestial beauty, and so He offers his disciple a third eye, with which he would be able to have the cosmic vision of the Lord. That is what we all need today, to look at the footprints of the maker in all that is around us; then even a blade of grass, or a still, stationary tree may have a message for us, what they are and what we are.

It is time for me to pass this plate on, so that the joy of beholding their beauty may not stop with me, but become contagious, very much like the swine flu, the H1N1 virus, so that after a few years, or decades or even centuries, we may have a humanity which is in close contact with nature and her bounty. On that day, there will not be a plateful of flowers, but only nature gathering plateful of human beings around her chest, treasuring them as if they were her very own. Is that not what many religions call Paradise!

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)

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)

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)

Breaking the Benign

If we term a group of animals as ferocious, often we see that there is no greater ferocious animal than the human beings; it is only men and women who can be very ruthless, and heartless. Some are so hard hearted that nothing can move them. And that is a tragedy that is responsible for so much of terror and bloodshed in our world. We blame the circumstances, and even point an accusing finger at the up-bringing, but more than all, we cannot but blame the new-age value system, which still believes in survival of the fittest and the fastest (imagine the notion of speed that is at the helm of all present day advancements!). Anything can be dispensed with in order to soar high in the business ladder or to achieve the targeted goals. That includes even the life of innocent men and women, the voiceless, deaf-dumb-mute human beings, who cannot be given the dignity that befits them.

Three days ago, we got the news that one of our companions was going through a minor depression, and felt lonely. Some of the past events and incidents had aggravated a sense of loss and insecurity in him, that led him to think that he was not worthy of being what he had been for the past thirty years. He was in tears when he narrated to me how some of our friends had humiliated him in public, without even the least qualms of conscience. That this friend of mine could go to such a situation was something that I could not imagine. So some of our friends began to call him up to boost his morale and bring him back to a feeling that he was wanted and his past efforts to contribute to the institution he was attached to was worth its while. One of his regrets was that no one acknowledged how much he had given himself to build the institution where he had been for the past fourteen years. Instead of some good words, there were brickbats and accusations that chased him to take recourse in brooding and finally to minor depression.

It was quite surprising for me to hear from a close associate of mine, who said that one friend had told him, that the man undergoing depression was in fact feigning. Another important friend warned me not to give undue importance to him. I found it extremely difficult to understand how crude and hard we could be in the judgment of our companions. Many of us at sometime or other go through such moments when we feel that all our efforts were in vain, and it would be better to move out to some other place where we may at least be noticed. If I cannot be sympathetic towards my neighbor, how much of sympathy can I expect from others when I am in trouble? We all of us wish to be treated fairly, and is it not just that we too treat others in the same measure?

I am quite convinced that there are times in the life of persons, when we need to go across the boundaries of familiarity, friendship, relationship and legalities. When the very life of a person is at stake, we cannot afford to bargain with mean and silly issues and things. If we think that the life of a person can be sacrificed in order to prove a point right or wrong, then the time may not be far off for us to bear the consequences of such a notion. The modern society has taught us to be tough with ourselves and with the outside world, even encouraging us to be strict with our feelings and emotions. No wonder many of us turn out to be more of machines than lively human persons. That is where the danger lies; if we cannot look at others as an extension of myself, all my philosophies and world wisdom will be of no value. I am called primarily to be human, fully human, fully alive.

Today I take a few moments from my busy life, to quieten myself and enter into my inner self to look at the corners where I still carry certain amount of stones that can break a soul and shed blood. Let me look at them, and see them slowly transformed into soft, gentle wool. Let me also look in my mind all the people whom I had treated with ruthlessness and made them realize that they were not wanted, and deep down feel sorry for such moments. I also will think about the moments when I could have reacted differently to people and incidents, instead of going by the letters of the law. Let me see that the brother and sister whom I ill-treat or mis-treat is my extension, and they too demand the dignity that I claim for myself. It may not be possible that I am transformed into a different being in a day or two, but if I am aware that I have a heart that is capable of turning men and women into beasts, then there are chances that one day I may truly be able to enter into the shoes of others, and truly empathise with them. And that is the moment of self-victory for me!

Power to Be

I am fascinated by the amount of positive energy that flows in the world around me, and it takes some effort for me to realise that the source of such energy is the same : the universe that pours out this unending stream of life-energy into the heart of human beings. The English poet Gerarld Manly Hopkins seems to have wondered looking at the creation around him with such excitment that lyrics flowed from his heart: The world is charged with the grandeur of God, and I may take liberty to re-paraphrase this line as : the universe is charged with the grandeur of positive energy. Note that special adjective I use before energy, positive; because we in this world are flooded with different sorts of energy, and only about one third of the energy could be called positive, and the rest, all negative, destructive.

Sometimes I am not merely fascinated, but obsessed with the concept of this positive energy that is present all around us... it is like air, the crisscrossing of invisible electronic waves, the radio waves, and the satellite television channels will talk in terms of the "spectrum", which refers to the space for them to be present in the cyber world and project their waves... The world is full of the energy, and each one of us contribute towards this energy, either positively or negatively; but one thing we cannot refuse to : stand away from affecting the energy spectrum. If we are not affecting the energy spectrum of the universe positively, we are affecting it negatively. Each one of us affects the universe in one way or another.

But how can I affect the universe when I have very little or no contact with it at all? We are part of the vast universe, and we all of us have our own little roles to play in the pageant of the universe... comical or tragical. We are called in often to swim in the ever-flowing stream of the energy in the world, and as I affect the stream, I am also affected by it. The effect is felt on both the ends. But today I would like to turn my attention not so much to myself, one of the origins of the energy, but to the universe. Each one of us contribute to the energy level of the world, but we do not honestly know in what way I affect the universe, positively or negatively. But it is not all too difficult to make out how I affect the energy spectrum of the universe.

We all of us attract from the universe the very same thing that we have contributed to the world around me; while the universe sucks out of me the kind of energy that I am full of, similarly it fills me with the same kind of energy that I fill her, at times even from the sources other than my own. Doesn't it sound quite strange? In other words I attract to myself all that I require to be myself. It is the universe that makes me what I truly am. The greatest and most difficult task for me in the world is to BE. To be faithful to what I am called to BE in the universe. When I am all too bored with life, then I take recourse to activities that put me in perpetual noise, unwanted, undesirable elements of irritation and distraction. The greatest challenge for me today is to BE.

When I try to be faithful to my true inner self, I attract such positive energy from the universe that I will have all the power and energy to burn the whole world to ashes; I will have the energy to feel all the people of the universe; I will have all the waters to quench the thirst of the entire humanity. Today I pause for a while in the midst of my busy schedule and ask myself, do I recognise the positive energy that is flowing in and through me? I close my eyes for two minutes or three and allow myself to be; to run with the current, allowing myself to be touched, shaped by the powerful current. Let me put aside all the distractions which will keep the thin voice of the energy spectrum silent, and surrender myself to the powerful energy quotient, which is the life-giving force for the universe. Because every person who IS, is the one who can redeem the world through his/her grit. There is no greater achievement in life than being myself.

Looking Beyond Self

Self-promotion is the hobby and serious business of some in our society, and they would go all the way to make their presence felt, in their social circles, in the wider society, and every other person they come in touch with is roped in to promote the former's interests and designs. No, I am not talking in abstract terms, I have a very specific person in mind. It is not that I do not dare to disclose the name of the person, but would not defame him (and as a result defame myself!) in public. And it is not hard to find such persons around us.

Over the years, I had realised that so long I am absorbed within myselfmy concerns, my narrow world, I am blind to the world outside of me. The beautiful world outside of me is yet another tortuous reality, I try to run away from, and the safest niche I find for self is the inner self; to ruminate the numerous designs to feel safe and secure, not letting anyone in the world know the ever-lasting deep emptiness I am floating. It is my world, my dreams, my people, and often I become an "I" specialist.

Once I wanted to do a small experiment for myself... it may sound a bit silly, but I thought it was a brilliant exercise. I wanted to become aware of the sentences in my normal conversation with people, when I had used the pronoun "I"; the second step, which I wanted to do was, to consciously replace the "I" with "we". To be frank, it is not all that easy to do that. I had realised that I had used the world "I" far too many times... Yes, you are right! Just count the number of times "I" had been used in this very paragraph : if you are correct, it is 11. But I have a reason to use it here, to present my own case study.

Have you ever wondered what makes these people to be engrossed within themselves? At least for me, it is just a conscious act of covering the inadequacy, the emptiness that one feels deep within. It is a deliberate act of showing to the world that they are far more important than what the world thinks, that they are far more capable of things than the society knows. So they go on from one experiment to another, in a frantic attempt to "prove" to the world that they are made of sterner stuff, of what mettle they are made of.

The people who are self-contended and love life and apprciate the bounty of nature (call it God!), look beyond their selves... their concern is on the other person. They would be engrossed in the welfare of the people, often foregoing their personal wants, interests and even welfare. Thank God, we still have people who belong to this category, and that is one of the reason why we find humanity has not perished. Today I hear a call from within to look beyond my nose, as a popular saying would go, and find fulfilment. If I can see a beauty within me, I will be able to look at the world with the same eyes, and find beauty all around me.