Lighting my Little Lamp

Today is Diwali, the festival of light, and there is an array of colorful lights all around. Most of the houses around have been lit with light of different colors and shapes. It is so wonderful to see the display of light, it is sheer pleasure to behold light. I look at the convent, facing our corridor near the main road, a series of lights (diya) have been lit, and it was a beautiful sight. Women are known for decorating houses on this day, with light. I had known that it is a wonderful day to light candles at least on the corridor near the main road, and brighten up the space, and luckily I found an old packet of tiny candles in one of our cupboards, and made use of them to light up the corridor.

The candles were too tiny to last even ten minutes, I thought, and after lighting some 20 candles, I went for my customary walk; when I returned after about 30 minutes, I could see the light at the corridor, and there were some candles which were still burning. It was a beautiful sight to see a line of candles burning. I hurried to light up some more candles which were left earlier, and I wonder if the corridor had ever seen such candle light soothing its space in all the years of its existence. There is nothing that equals the soothing light of candles or of diyas (earthen lamps). I was happy that I could light up my own little lamp during the ‘festival of light’.

When I first thought of lighting up the corridor today, the line which was flashing in my mind often today was from Rabindranath Tagore, in his poem ‘There are numerous strings in your lute’: “Amidst your numberless stars, Let me place my own little lamp!” There is light all around, and it is not necessary for me to add to the already existing light; however my “little lamps” are sure to add yet another dimension to the light! However small these candles be, they add something new to the world around me, and that is my joy! Often I have the tendency to take for granted: there is already so much light, why take the trouble to light my little lamps!

Looking at the world around, there is always a tendency in me and in others to keep away from what makes the world noble, beautiful and colorful. Why should I take the trouble to do my little part, while it is too tiny, in comparison to what others contribute? Little drops make an ocean, is true, and it takes a little effort on my part to add that little drop; if the world is still worth living and beautiful, I should acknowledge the millions of little drops contributed by millions of people down the years, and several other millions still contributing each and every moment. Then why should I hesitate to light my own little lamps?

If everyone lights up his/her house, the whole locality is sure to be beautifully lit, and that is exactly what the festival of light invites all of us to: to light my little lamp, and I can expect the world to be bright and beautiful. However if I fail to light my little lamps, then I will have no right to blame the world for being dark and damp. It takes very little effort to light my courtyard or corridor, and I don’t need to light up others’ houses; looking at me, probably others may also be inspired to light up their homes, just as I was inspired to light up our corridor after looking at the neatly lit convent! And what a joy it is to celebrate light, which is another name for LIFE!

Storms and Silence

There would be too few people who do not know how a storm-stricken village or city appears; the uprooted trees, displaced roof-tops, utensils and beddings of the pavement dwellers strewn all over, the over turned umbrellas, and the pale yellow leaves of trees. But the silence that prevails after a storm could be frightening; except for occasional thunder and lightning, it is not something which people are too happy to welcome. However the hour of storm is no good tidings either. After every stormy situation in life, to get back to normal life is not so easy, and that is all the more painful to return to the pre-storm situation with the wounds and trauma of the stormy nights.

Having gone through several scores of stormy nights, I have realized that each stormy night leaves behind certain scars in me, some of which are indelible, and etched into my memory. I would be wrong to conclude that all the stormy nights had drowned me with melancholy and sadness; I had drawn meaningful and significant lessons out of them, which had helped me to see the path during dark nights of my soul. Thanks to these stormy nights, I have been shaken out of the mediocre, status quo, self-complacency, and am able to wrap up my belt around and get ready to face life as it comes to me in bits and pieces.

Every storm is a reminder to me that there is silence not too far away, and every silence is a reminder to me that the next storm is not too far off! That is how life goes on, and these are the indications for me to be prepared to face the situation in whatever form they may come to me. I long for a storm, in the same way I long for silence after it, because it is impossible for silence to dawn on the land without a storm. Besides it is impossible for me to realize the beauty and splendor of the silence, if I do not know the ruthlessness and ransacking quality of the storm. That is why the English poet William Blake had dared to say, “without contraries is no progression”. We can appreciate light only in the backdrop of darkness.

I need to thank God for all the stormy nights, which had shaken me out of my roots, and had made me shiver to the core, had made me take shelter under the inner resources he had endowed me with; if not for the inner strength which flows from him, it is impossible for me to survive these nights. There had been moments when I had felt it was time for me to be swept away by the currents of the waters, and be lost forever; but soon I had also realized I had no right to run away from life in such a cowardly manner; that would be disgrace not only to this beautiful earth, but also to the entire human race. Storms are part of life, and anyone who fears storms cannot taste the sweetness of silence.

It is because I had gone through several stormy nights, that I am able to give shelter to others who are looking for certain amount of security at the time of their trouble and challenge. I am able to teach them the wisdom of facing the storms boldly and courageously, so that they might taste the sweetness of the silence thereafter. Every storm is a gift of God; we had been longing for the Nor’wester during the past few weeks, as the mercury level keeps soaring beyond all imagination, and we know only storm is enough to cool the earth, and permit the people to sleep in peace, even when the electricity fails. The storms may come when we least expect them, and what is strange, even the weathermen are not able to predict them, and that is the beauty of these angels of destruction, who also usher in the angels of peace and tranquility.

Children of Light

Some people may think I am crazy if I were to say that creation or the discovery of artificial lighting system is a disgrace to God’s creation. Let me explain my stance before you pounce on me like ravenous wolves. God created night and day, the Sun to rule the day and the moon to rule the night. He provided us with hard and soft light (as those in photography and videography would call) for two different kinds of needs. But today the human beings have created any number of kinds of light, and they even have deviced a method of dimming the light. Sometimes one wonders if it is night or day.

There is a thirst in human beings to extend the day and shorten the night, failing to realize that night and day are two phases of human life. We have evolved a system of lighting up our surroundings, to some extent, equaling the natural light, so that we would think that we are enjoying the blessing of day. But we don’t stop at that, we even attempt to control our bodies to the changing phases of our day and night. We prefer a long day and a short day, because day represents all that is lovely, lively, and night represents all that is dull and gloomy. But that is not the whole truth.

I for one am not a nocturnal being, like some of my friends, who would keep awake till about two o’clock in the early morning and then would go to bed, to get up well past eight in the morning. Naturally they need the minimum hours of sleep. I don’t remember burning the midnight’s lamp, even when I had the toughest examinations to get through. Before the clock stuck twelve midnight, I was invariably on the bed, enjoying a sound sleep. I have no serious problem with people who go late to bed and rise late, but when we are in a group, if people wish everyone to go late to bed, I find it hard to accept. I have built up a rhythm in accordance with nature, and to change it is sure to affect my very system.

By now I know rather too well that after about 9 pm, I am no more the same vibrant self I am in the morning. The body is tired and it is time to rest, which however does not mean to sleep. I like relaxing by myself either reading or writing, or watching a movie, or listening to a song. I would love to respect this particular rhythm of my body, mind and spirit, and feel a bit annoyed when some people force me to change it. I hate any serious work or meeting after 9 pm, and sometimes when I am compelled to be engaged with some serious work, by body reacts, and I get headache; that is an indication for me that it is time to be off, but how would I expect others to understand my rhythm?

It is important that each one of us finds out our body rhythm in terms of its movement. I know the best time of the day is the morning, not necessarily the early morning as some think and understand, but time from 7 to 10 am. Much of my creative works take place during this time period. I can give my best during these hours. I get the natural light to shine on me and my work, and I don’t need to burn an extra ounce of oil to keep my lamp burning. I can still hear the chirping of the birds, alongside the vehicles on the road. I can still hear the raucous laughter of children, while at the same time feel the gentle yet warm rays of the sun. Even in the midst of madding crowds, I can forget the whole world and enter into the cave of my heart… and the journey interior is never ending!