Missing the Bus

Missing the bus in our country, or in any of the Asian countries for that matter, is nothing to be amused at, because when the buses do not ply on time, how can the commuters be blamed for missing the bus. If that is the case with buses, there are things in life where we human beings do miss the bus, even when the buses ply as scheduled. Probably that is the reason why nothing seems to happen in the lives of the ninety nine per cent of the population. It is only the odd one per cent of the people who find life so very amusing, that they are ready to do anything for the humanity, for the universe, for nature, and for themselves. These are the people who see a ray of light, when all the others see only the dark clouds.

This man from Australia is one such man, who for fifteen months had not earned or spent even a penny, I realize that he is one among the one per cent, and I felt happy to read about what made the difference in the life of this fifty plus man. He had a promising career in an organic farm, and he states that a chance viewing of the movie “Gandhi” made him to rethink about his life. He had said that one saying of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi had pushed him to think twice about the quality of his life : if you want to transform the world, transform yourself. He had realized that it was money which was the center of all evil, and if he would be able to annihilate the getting and spending money, he might be able to enter into happiness.

It was interesting to read his account on how he was slowly realizing his dream of living a life without bound by money, and his life brought him to closer proximity with nature, and he had begun to feel the beauty and bounty of nature. Towards the end of his short presentation about what he was all about, he asserts that what can make us truly happy is not money, but relationships, friends, and he got many after he began his experiment with truth. What gives me joy is to realize that there are so many persons in the world around us who are careful not to miss the bus; even if they miss it, they make sure to catch it before it speeds up. These are not merely trend-setters, who dare to dream for the world, for humanity, for nature, and for the universe.

Each one of us goes through a moment in life, which can be termed as a peak experience; but most often these moments may be shrouded by our own personal problems, bias, prejudices, sorrows and agonies. These moments of “realization” do not last for too long; if one does not take note of them, they may just pass by, and it may never come back. If we are alert and prompt, we may be able to allow ourselves to be recharged by the powerful currents flowing from this experience. Most of the great people of the world down the centuries have all gone through these peak moments and had benefited from them, and thanks to these experiences, we are still sane and safe. Their legacy is the spotlight showing light to our generation.

It is such a wonderful thing to even imagine what would happen if every individual in the world were to be a person who had undergone this peak experience; in that case, everyone would have been a Buddha, the enlightened one. In that case, there may be no evil in the world, no killing, no greed, no avarice, no jealousy. Life would be so very different. Unfortunately those who miss the bus may remain stranded all through their lives, and today I only wish each one of us makes an attempt to be awake when such moments of enlightenment dawn upon us, and be drowned by the magical streams; when we come up to the shore, then we may be different persons, with a new vision and a new mission. Life will be so very colorful then!

Engraving Empathy (Lent 2)

One of the best illustrations to explain empathy is ‘to get into another’s shoes’, and that truly means a lot. When we come to the level of empathy, we cannot be mere spectators, outsiders, who have no direct correlation to the people affected. It is not to shed crocodile tears for the suffering, nor is it to condescend on the people who are less fortunate or unfortunate, as the case may be! It refers to climbing down from one’s pedestal to be one with the affected. The word “coming down” has its own significance in the mystery of salvation, and Tagore in one of his beautiful poems from Gitanjali would hark on this image of “coming down”, when he says, “Such is your love, that you came down for us”.

One of the pre-conditions of expressing empathy is that I first of all give up my pedestal, give up my comfort and security, to take part in the insecurity of the other! I cannot hold on to my own security and yet wish to empathize with a suffering brother or sister. Thus to empathize with another person is not a joke, nor is it a casual act of charity I can do at will. There are very few challenging thing in life than to expressing empathy for a known or unknown brother or sister. Empathy is sure to disturb my social security system, my well-chalked out programs, my relationship with others, my good name and honor; everything may go haywire with empathy, but we shall realize at the end that it is all worth the trouble.

When I come down to get into the shoes of another, I am also soaring up in my listening capacity; from being able to listen to my inner Spirit, I am able to “participate” in the inner silence of the other. Beyond the cry, suffering and pain of the other is the inner silence of each person, and in empathy, I allow myself to mingle with the silence of the other. I am rising to a higher level of sensitivity, and experience of the ever Present, the eternal Now! Thus empathy is not a human act, but a call to participate in the divine confluence of stillness, where all tears and sweat find their culmination; where all pain and suffering find their end.

Let me present yet another image to empathy! It is to wear the color glasses of another; I would be seeing the world with his/her eyes; if the world looks green to him, so should it be for me; if the sun looks yellow for him, so should it be for me too. What happens here is something difficult to grasp: I am giving up my personal liberty, will, memory, understanding, in order to become a passive power, which can to tossed, molded by another. I become powerless before the world, when I put on these color glasses, and it is only I who would be able to realize the immense power of being powerless! After all most of world’s most powerful persons were powerless in one way or the other!

One of the greatest tests that the world would present to me, if I venture to empathize with my brothers and sisters, it is the endurance test for empathy! The wax candle which consumes itself in order to shed light cannot last forever; there is a time frame attached to it! There may be occasions when it may be threatened by the breeze from outside or the air from the ceiling fan, but when it allows itself to burn completely and unconditionally, its duty is done. Every test for empathy is a leap in faith in the eternal Being, who alone is the master of the universe, in whose lap all the worlds find existence. Empathy transports me from the human to the divine world! It is a gateway to eternity!

Engineered Expectations

How I wish the world was behaving exactly I wish it to; and how delighted I would be if all the people around me do exactly what I would want them to! There is a hidden “I” in each one of us, who wishes to assert that s/he is the center of the universe, and that everything should go round her/him. When things do not go according to my calculations, then I feel my world crumble before my very eyes, and I am frightened of facing it. It is painful and agonizing to witness my expectations are thrown into pieces and I am nowhere in the picture. When I expect that the world goes round me, and I do not find the world is nowhere close to me, it is a frightening thing to even imagine, leave alone facing it taking place before my naked eyes.

But this is a predicament that everyone has to go through, and no one may be spared from facing the dreams, aspirations and expectations evaporating into thin air. The superior I in me would always assert that s/he is right, whatever be the case, and I can find the truth factor of this statement, if I observe how I argue with a friend or companion. What is the goal of any argument – to win; but it is not merely to win, but to win OVER the other person. If two parties win in a competition, then there is less joy, than when one party wins and the other loses. Psychologically I feel great when I am able to throw down someone either through reason or by muscle power. And when I am defeated by others, my world shrinks, and is even on the verge of disappearing.

We shall have a thousand and one reasons to blame the whole world around me, and in most of the cases we may even be justified, and there may be many others who would think that our remarks are based on facts. We may have just expectations, and common sense might not prevail in many cases, and we may be left in dark. We may have to live with people who take things for granted, and do not even behave as a human person, and we may be wounded on seeing how such persons treat and respond to us. They can become a real pain in the neck, and we may find ways of either getting round the problem and make life miserable for the person, or not permit the person make our life miserable.

It is not always possible for me to make the other person aware of the kind of harm s/he is creating to me, and on many occasions the person may not even be in a position to respond to my allegations. I should understand that I do not have the pill for the ills of the world; I cannot change the way my companion behaves, which annoys and irritates me. Even if I take courage to explain to him/her that his/her actions hurt me, there are little chances that s/he will take it seriously and do the needful to accommodate me. But just because the other person is not going to buy my views or change the color glasses s/he is wearing, I cannot stop living my life!

Today I would like to ask myself, how many times have I dared to doubt my expectations? Not all of my expectations can be easily justified; if I were to scratch most of my expectations, I may find that they put a lot of demands on the people around me. I become the judge, who determines how others should relate and respond to me. If only I become suspicious of most of my expectations from others, then there would be less reasons for me to get annoyed with them. That would also open new windows, which would remind me constantly that just as I have expectations on others, others too could have similar kind of expectations on me, and do I pause to note their expectations?

The Surprise Visitor

I could not believe when it started to drizzle in the evening, as we sat for supper; initially I thought it was the bustle of the branches of the trees, but later with the patter, I knew it was rain. Even as I went for my customary evening walk, I could not make out it might rain. The five minutes of patter had left the ground wet, though it was far from being soaked. But in the middle of the night, I could hear the rain, and the cool breeze from my window was spreading a chill sheet. It was wonderful to welcome the surprise guest after so many weeks and months. I know the earth was waiting for the guest more than me.

As I walked early in the morning along the road, soaked with the rain, there was a heavenly scent; the smell of the earth is something that can fill one’s heart. The freshness which the rains can give to the earth is something that is hard for us to create for ourselves. The trees which had been preparing themselves for a fresh coat of leaves, found it opportune to shed their leaves, and the roads were full of pale leaves, and all that I could see were naked trees, stripped of their clothes, and bathing joyously on the waters from heaven. Sure the trees hardly get chance to strip themselves before bathing in the rain.

The sun has not shown his face yet, and the clouds are having a free run in the endless sky. The birds have their time, after being bathed in the fresh waters… how often do they get that free bathing, mother nature bathing her innumerable children all at once! She knows for sure when her children need a bath. I can see a pair of crows struggling to build a nest at the tree just outside my window, and what a surprise for me to see one of them with his/her one foot chopped off, and finding it hard to stand on a branch, and still s/he is there every day to add to the nest that the couple is making. May nature bless their efforts.

I love a cloudy weather, and more a rainy day. To gaze at rain drops falling from heaven is a wonderful experience; sometimes I love to be drenched by these waters, the nectar of the gods. God’s free gift to the whole of creation, and everyone has a share in it, without any distinction of color or caste or creed. I would love to welcome this surprise visitor, and everyone on earth should be happy to have a closer touch with him/her. The gentle touch of the rain is sure to soothe even the most troubled of hearts, and wipe away every tear from the eyes of those who have no more tears to shed. But as I contemplate this great mystery, the rains, my mind goes to somewhere else.

The human beings are notorious in making the entire universe cry with pain and agony; we have put our venomous hands on everything that we saw and found them beautiful; the forests, mountains, the seas and the rivers – we have not spared any part of the universe, and have emptied the natural resources of the universe in order to fill our barns and bellies. Is the universe today shedding bitter tears at the plight of her creation? Her tears are our life blood, and we need to keep her crying in order to let our fields turn green. Today I look up to the heavens, those pregnant clouds, and fold my hands with respect and reverence, and plead that they overlook our crimes and selfishness, and let the earth have her share of rains in plenty!

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.

In Support of Serpents

Snakes! the proverbial enemies of humanity from the time of the first parents, Adam and Eve, there is hardly any who would say something in support of these animals. They are a cursed lot, already from the time of the genesis, and they are still so, except for a few minor religious sects who have taken shelter with snakes as their deity, as is the case with Manasa Devi in Bengal, and Naga Devadai in the southern India. But that does not stop the snakes from harming even the very people who worship them as deities! It has gone deep into human mind that snakes cannot be allowed to live!

We are taught already from our childhood that snakes are evil, and they are all poisonous. They cannot be allowed to prawl around in our gardens and fields, but they should be killed on the spot! We may even allow our enemies to escape our beating, but cannot allow snakes from escaping, leave alone letting them run away peacefully! Much of our understanding about snakes is faulty and erroneous; and quite a bit of it is based on prejudice. We cannot think that the snakes also have the same right to live on earth as any of us is! We often claim that the earth belonged to us, and not to these, and so they can be dispensed with without any hesitation.

It is basically ignorance which make us conclude that all snakes are poisonous; even the harmless grass-snake are killed at the very first sight, and we have great pride in proclaiming to the whole world that we had killed a very poisonous snake! One of the environmentalists had recently announced that out of all the snakes commonly found in India, only two varies are really poisonous and so are fatal, and most others are not poisonous. They may bite others, but people cannot die due to poison. There may not be too many people who would bite this idea, even if it is based on facts and scientific data.

I have heard several stories in our village, where people had died due to snake bite, and have also heard about those men and women who recovered after snake bite! But generally the stories of the people who have succumbed to poisonous snakes had been doing extra rounds than those who had recovered from such a bite. Now the point I would like to propose is that it is time that we think twice before we look for sticks and rods to kill snakes. It is said that snakes would not deliberately harm anyone; until they are provoked, they would mind their own business! After all, they are not after human blood!

If the human race claims a rightful place on earth, then the snakes too have a rightful place here, and the fact is that these creatures are more friendly to the earth and the universe than humanity! It is time that we stop condemning all snakes as poisonous and kill them instantly. The number of snakes in our villages and gardens and fields have reduced considerably. If this situation were to continue, then after some years, we may not have any real snake to show to our children; the snakes might have then become like what dinausours are for us today. Let us give the snakes their rightful place on earth, and they too would honor us for that act of charity and kindness!

Madness of Human Malady

It is incredible to imagine what the human beings are really capable of! It was only the human race which was able to unravel many of the mysteries of the universe, and life on earth; it was the human mind which is capable of travelling back in time and space, and at the same time travel to the distant future and predict what is in store for them. Unfortunately no other animal had been given that privilege to re-create the earth we had been handed over; and it is hard to say if we have made the world better or worse! Our children would be in a much better place to answer such probing question.

At the table during dinner, our conversation came back and forth to what the human beings are capable of! They would do any thing crazy in order to prove to the world that they mattered, and what they were convinced of was God's word! We recalled to mind the air craft pilot who took the US plane to blow the Twin Towers! It was not merely a matter of "guts" to even blow one's own self, which can never be refitted, but to be convinced that they were doing something good and worthwhile! Many fanatics may name them martyrs, but were they really so? Especially when we see hundreds of people murdered due to the plot hatched and executed by them!

Or think of the 25/11 attack on Mumbai! I simply admired the amount of work that had gone behind such a masterplan! No ordinary people would be capable of planning and executing such a complicated plot! Great minds were involved in such an attack, and the very fact that these people who executed the plot for the most part went "missing" during the time of the blow, was ample proof that there could not have been anything left for chance! That really is proof of human ingenuity, and what they are capable of achieving. But unfortunately, much of the human positive energy is wasted!

If only all the human energy which is wasted with unhealthy practices and destructive schemes and plots, is preserved to do good to humanity and to the universe, there would not be so much of disparity, inequality and poverty in the world! Just imagine how much money, time, energy and resources are wasted by corporate houses, not so much to keep them on the top, but to keep the competitors down. Millions of rupees/dollors are wasted in maligning the competitors, suing them with cases which are next to non-sense, just to disrupt the production of things which may put the other corporate house in jeapardy.

The amount of money spent on advertisement is targeted not so much to introduce new products and goods, but to show how their product is better than the rest; how their goods are the best in the world! There is no question of comparative degree here, but only the superlative ones. Will it be possible for humanity to ever realize the futility of investing so much of energy, time, and resources in things which can only harm humanity, and shorten the life on earth! Will good sense ever prevail on earth, and rival nations, groups and sects ever be able to put aside the differences and seek similarities, which alone can bring respite to the otherwise fast disappearing species on earth, the human race!

Passion with Com-passion

In the entertainment world, which is dominated by commercial films and videos, a film of this sort is rare and rather unheard of! I am not talking about the films of the sort which Indian film doyen Satyajit Ray made, which ran empty halls in the city, while acclaimed all over the world. I am talking about Bommalattam (Doll's play), a full-length feature film in Tamil made by the famous film director Bharati Raja! It is not that I am fond of the films of Bharati Raja, who always had a social issue to present in his films, but as I sat to relax in front of the television, I found something very different in this film, very different from the usual soap-operas and the tear-jerkers!

The fact that Nana Patekar, whom I consider as a serious actor, happened to act in a Tamil feature film meant that it was not going to be yet another love story! The theme looked so very complicated, but after the denoument, one realizes that the plot has been weaved in such a way that the story was hanging together, and one could vibrate with the hero fighting a fierce battle against a society which only knows how to condemn the vulnerable! The director had handled the characters in the film not only with the usual passion, but more with com-passion, and that made this film a very different sort for me!

I consider myself a person who has limited, selective memory! In certain cases, my memory is shart, though I cannot claim it is photographic, but fairly good; but when it comes to storylines, novels, and even blogs, I have a bad memory! Sometimes when I go back to some of my old writings, I feel amazed and ask myself if I had done it! I might have read a novel some years ago, but when I read it again, without realizing that I had read it earlier, I can vaguely remember some isolated characters, but not the story. I feel terrible when many of my friends can remember the storyline of a novel or a film they had read/seen many years ago. I even envy them.

In all walks of life today, the slogan is 'passion', and if there is one life-force which is keeping the present world alive, it is the passion of a handful of people, igniting the lives of others. Passion in life, passion in workplace, passion in relationships, and passion in being. What perhaps the today's world lacks is com-passion! I am not talking about charity or gift or obligatory social commitment corporate houses are expected to fulfil, in order to get the tax exemption! Compassion goes beyond all scales and measurements, and one gets countless number of opportunities to show one's compassion today: it would be wrong to consider that only the human beings demand our compassion, the plants and beasts, the earth and the universe - all are in need of human compassion.

Compassion also demands that we throw away our law-books in order to uphold humanity, or life in one form or other. If the law of the land becomes the most important criteria for judging people (and I would not belittle the importance of the law of the land in any way), then we would be forced to throttle true justice, which goes beyond laws and regulations. The Doll's Play fortunately upholds such a kind of compassionate justice, which can change the face of the world sooner than we think! Every human person is invited to become agents of compassion, and the day when even a toddler looks at the plants and beasts, other toddlers with compassion, then we can see a thousand suns and moons rising around us!

Self and Pseudo-Self

It is not all that easy to really recognize which is our true self and which is our pseudo self. In most cases, we are easily deceived by the mind, and take the pseudo self for the real self. The real self is the image and likeness of God, the Ultimate, and you may name it what you will. To recognize the true self is equivalent to reaching our destination in life; everything will look very different then, even the enemies will be the good company we would long for, even the worst of people may turn to have the very image and likeness it is made of.

But the pseudo self is what we are most often left to grapple with, and it is not an easy task to turn our attention to the true self, because the world and all that in it, would not want us to turn to the real self, in which case we may not come back to treasure and hold on to what the world may offer. It may be a great loss for the world, and so, it wants us to be tied down to it as long as it can hold us, and enchant us by riches, wealth, honor, prestige, pleasures of the flesh and knowledge… The world has its own charm, and it would be wrong to consider that the world has only the bad things; but they are just means to reach the real self.

The danger in life takes place when we find the way so very enchanting, and begin to take the path for the destination, and instead of moving forward, we wish to settle on the road, because it is so very beautiful, enticing, and satisfying. Everything appear so very beautiful in the world, and it would take quite a while to realize that behind the seeming beauty and glory of the world, there is a layer of decay and stench. But by the time we realize that, it might be already too late to get out of there, and run either forward or backward.

The true self is like the father in the story of the prodigal son, who waits for the person to return, to discover (or re-cover) the self, and find the fulfillment of all one’s life’s aspirations taking shape there. This is the state when one can be as one meant to be, at the time of creation, a cosmic force which can enliven the ordering of the universal movement. Here the individual is as important to the existence of the universe as every blade of grass, every drop of rain, every bit of cloud… Here everything is real and everything is transient, but one is not attached to them… they just flow with the current of the cosmic flow.

We seek God outside, but the most intimate expression of God is found deep within. Those who have had even a momentary glance of the true self, would vouch that God is not out there, but here at the core of one’s being. Life’s long years are meant to help us get that precious glance of the real self, and once that is done, we are purified of all the dirt and filth that the world had dumped on us; then we shall be able to hear the laughter of the waterfall, sweet songs of the birds in the morning, murmur of insects in the evening, feel the silent meditation of the still waters, see the master strokes of the Ultimate in the firmament. Then we might feel we are free to communicate with any creature on earth, and feel part of this paradise called the earth!

Mute Witnesses of Human Malady

It suddenly occurred to me what the so-called inanimate beings which surround us would tell us if they had the gift of speech; what they would do, were they given the capacity to think. If only the walls were able to speak, then the humanity would be on the road. To the great advantage of humanity, we have placed around us mute witnesses, who can only see and hear and not speak. The amount of filth and rot that we carpet each day is known only to these things which see each of our movements. And we can rest in peace that they will never charge us, pull us up, or retaliate for all the evil we had done.

The cold-blooded murder that a person might have committed, making sure that no other human being on earth witnessed it. If the walls, furniture, books, bed, were to bear witness in the court, the world would be very different. They would have been able to prove beyond all doubt that there is no worse creature on earth than the human beings, and no better creature on earth than the very humanity. Unfortunately the earth is people with the good and the bad, and the only authentic and sincere creatures who can ever separate the ripe from the rotten ones are these.

I were God, then at least on an experiment, I would have given the gift of speech to these inanimate beings, at least for an hour. It might be too much of a time to really destroy humanity, so I might consider reducing the time to ten minutes. But imagine if all the bricks were to bear witness to what humanity has done to the universe, then their anger can burn the earth, and turn it to a hell. But then, evil may be destroyed for ever.

The most noble people sometimes are called the mad, the insane. These are often the people, who can speak to the so-called inanimate beings with the same ease and confidence that they are capable of communicating with the rational human beings. But we the ‘ordinary’ persons cannot accept such people as belonging to our category. Perhaps there is greater truth in being insane than humanly sane. When an insane person speaks to the clouds, to rocks and stones, to cows and buffaloes, do they not soar to a higher level than of humanity?

It would be a great blessing of God, if we are given the faculty to be blind to see the cruelty done to humanity, to nature and to the universe, to be deaf to the curses and insults humanity heaps on one another, to be insensitive to the culture of violence and torture that mindless men and women inflict of the innocent and the voiceless, to be out of my head to forget what is happening around me, so that the human pollution does not take away the spontaneity and innocence I entered the world with. In other words, I too wish to be turned into another mute witness to the maladies of the universe, and yet not touched by them.

Called to be Fully Human

One of the blessings of modern times is that we have become numb to all existential reality; our hearts have turned solid that it is hard to say it is made up of flesh and blood. Our sensitivity to human feelings and sentiments has gone awry, and what we are today is just a passing phenomena, which does not affect anyone whatsoever. Is it not this reality that we witness each day in our surroundings? It is not rarely that we come come across incidents when crowds had stood around a dying person, not one of them moving his/her finger to help the dying person. We all want to be safe, and do not want to soil our hands. We cannot think of running to the police station, after trying to save a person; we all want to say, it is none of my business.

I find it hard to accept that the modern men and women have forgotten to have a hearty laughter, a hearty meal, a enjoyable evening. The golden rays of the morning sun is too harsh for their sensitive eyes, that they have to protect their eyes with Ray-ban, or dark glasses. The soothing drops of the first rains are too hard for them to bear that they cannot think of getting drenched in the rain on purpose. Sometimes I would like to ask myself, when is the last time that I listened to the song of a bird, or gazed at the sky and counted the stars; or when is it that I chased the flight of a bird in the evening sky. When is it last that I fixed my eyes on the laughter of a new born child!

These are nature's great gifts to humanity, these are magical moments which can touch even the hardest of hearts. If we do not want to be touched by the Midas touch in nature, then what is life on earth worth? Our lives are so full of artificial, look-alike machines, which have replaced nature's role in our lives. Our contact with nature's world (natural world!) has become so minimal that we can be within the four walls of a room for days on end, without ever bothering to venture into the open fields to realize the vastness of the sky, and the music of the waters or birds.

Our lives have become so very artificial and monotonous that we do everything routine like, without even feeling, sensing. Our eyes have lost their vision, and today we don't see reality as it is, but see only what we want to see; our ears today hear only selectively, and our bodies feel the touch of only the persons we want to. The gruesome murder or the bloodshed of a neighbor does not make us to shed a tear or two; we stand like stones, without seeing, without hearing, without feeling, and maybe when we die, we may die like a stone. Humanity has become immune to pain and pleasure, and what sells today is artificiality. There is no scope for survival for real, and that is where human civilization has taken a U-turn.

I realize that I cannot be insensitive or immune to what is happening all around me. I want to be active and alive to the reality, of which I am an integral part of. I want to enter into the world I belong to, and give myself fully. I want to see the beauty around, I want to hear the music of the birds, or the insects, or the whistling of the breeze; i want to soothe my ears with the roaring of the ocean. I wish to feel the gentle breeze passing through by skin, I want to smell the soil after the first rain, smell the rains, smell the skin of my spouse. I pause for a while today, and close my eyes and reactivate all my senses. I would like to take time to be fully alive to the world that beckons me to be part of itself. Let me see myself transformed into the universe!

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)

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)

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)

The Divine Dancer

In the Indian religious tradition we have that beautiful notion of God as a dancer, the Nataraja is often deemed as the symbol of the aesthetic elements mingled with religious spirit. But his is not so much the erotic dance, which many a temple art in India portray, the most important being the temple in Khajaraho in the state of Orissa, but his is the cosmic dance, which celebrates life, and no wonder at every formal Bharatanatyam recital this deity is invoked at the very beginning. I find it quite amusing to think of God as a dancer, and I would even go to the extent of extending the image to think of God as a choreographer par excellence, who composes, teaches, and helps perform the universal, cosmic dance with the whole of creation, a dance which unites all the worlds, and which gives life and sustenance to all creation.

I have never danced in public, and consider myself inept to dance, and have not even tried to dance; but it is not that I do not dance quietly, when I stand before the mirror in the morning or in the evening, or before or after a shower, or as a body warming exercise. There is a dance in each one of us, just as there is a song to be sung in all of us, whether we are aware of it or not. It is not an ethereal dance that we are capable of, but even if it is just to stand with awe before the presence of God, and stretch the hand forward to receive his gentle hand, that is good enough to be part of his divine dance party. In fact, it is not to be my concern what I would dance, and how I could do it; it is the responsibility of the Lord of the dance, and he knows what character I would best suit, and he would assign me accordingly. But from my part all that is required of me is to keep my heart and mind open to learn from the divine master the secrets of making moves, which would delight his divine soul.

But often in life, I realize that I too have a dance sequence which I would like to display before the divine master, and feel over confident in what I can do, without his help. When I consider myself superior to the master, then I am sure to end up in disappointment and despair. If it is my personal endeavor then it is my responsibility to bear the consequences, and when I am under the care of the master choreographer, then I have nothing to worry, even if the show is a flop, and there is no appreciation from others. The greatest advantage for me in being a humble student of the divine Lord is that I come in touch with so many persons, in whose lives I leave footprints; I begin to see that our lives criss-crossing, and building webs of relationships that last longer than our memories. We become co-dancers, and share the joys and sorrows collectively. The world of the divine dancer is quite different from the world I am used to; he/she may invite me to undertake things that are too hard for me to achieve, but I know that he/she is always at my side to hold me. That is a great consolation for me.

If my dance is going to give pleasure only to me, I cannot boast that I have achieved the purpose for which I have learned to dance; instead every dance that I perform should give pleasure to the people I live with; it is only when I cross the boundaries of my own satisfaction that I am able to enter into another person’s life. On another level, my dance needs to fit into the cosmic dance that the universe uninterruptedly performs; if I am aware of my specific role in the economy of salvation of the world, then I would just fit in well, or else I may feel myself a misfit, and that may make me perpetually unhappy.

Today I would like to pause for a while to think about what my specific role is in the cosmic dance of the divine dancer; what does he want me to do, or what is the specific role that he/she wishes me to fulfill. I would also reflect about my openness to his/her promptings at the depth of my being, so that I may not drown his/her voice with the noise of the world around me, and pretend as if I did not hear that voice speaking softly within. I would like to discern my part in the eternal cosmic dance, and do just that, without aspiring to do anything more than that, for I know if I do this to the best of my ability and knowledge, happiness will be mine for sure. Then I will be able to forget the world I live in, witnessing the mesmerizing dance of the whole of the universe, where life flows endlessly mingled with joy and happiness, where even a blade of grass will tell me the secret of a happy living, even a crow will sing for me melodies wondrously soothing, where even a gentle breeze will chide the troubling thoughts, and even a flashing moment will put me in place in eternity. If that is the outcome of being part of the troupe of the divine dancer, I would not need anything more!

Ever New, Ever Fresh!

New year! So they say, and I really wonder if any particular day can be called new! What about the other 364 days of the year? Do the days become old as they pass? In short, every day is new and every hour is new, and every minute is new. In fact, for the discerning hearts, every moment comes with decked in new attire, new attitude. It all depends on how we look at reality. Think of the Greek philosopher Heraclitus who said that every drop of water running through the river is new, though we might think that the water is the same, and that is what made this philosopher say that we do not get into the same river twice. Just as every moment that dawns sinks into past and future is made into present, and though we may think that we have moments ever new, ever present, but we don’t realize that every moment is born anew, eternity is sliced for us into fragments, and every moment is forever new, forever fresh. But the moot question is, do we ever realize the beauty of this newness all around us.

I sometimes do a simple exercise to make my senses look at reality with new senses. I go to a vast expanse, and stand in a particular place, close my eyes for a while, and then open them wide… awaken all my senses, sense of smell, hearing, seeing, tasting and feeling, as if I am in an altogether new situation. I turn even the familiar trees, plants, objects into new; gently forcing my senses to believe that I am seeing them, hearing them, feeling them for the first time. Often my senses so get used to reality around me that I fail to take note of things, even when they bear newness with them. I go close to the flower plants, and look at them carefully, and try to find something new which I had not taken note of earlier. Sure enough, often I come across many new elements in the most familiar surroundings.

Our senses do not wish to acknowledge that we are presented with new reality every moment, and it is demanding for the senses to adjust themselves according to the new realities, and so they wish to retain the old memories, and pretend as if there is nothing new in the reality. It is only when we take things for granted that we get used to things, we get fed up of them, we take things for granted. Often we hear people make excuses saying, Oh, I thought it was the same old thing, and therefore I didn’t take note of the changes. Reality all around us is ever new, and we need to focus our attention to find the newness; it is easy to forget the newness and indulge in the ever old, so that we cannot find vitality and newness in all that we do.

It is not only the external reality which is full of newness, but every human being too is ever new. Scientists have found that there are hundreds of body cells get replaced each day, so much so after a few years, we have a brand new body, with brand new body cells, all of them having been replaced in the preceding months. Therefore the skin, bones, even the nail get new cells, and most of the time we do not even realize that we have a new body. All that we take for granted is that we have the same old body which we had inherited at child birth, and we had grown in size, but have maintained the same elements. So also everything is changed in the universe at every moment; the stars and planets keep changing their places, and there are ever new developments in the universe that we cannot even predict what would happen the very next day. It is not that they are left to the fate of chances, but there is newness all around.

The whole universe is charged with newness, and though many of the realities surrounding us seem to bear the monotony of mundane reality, they all have the potentiality to be new and remain ever fresh, and it is time that we open our minds to recognize that newness all around us. Today I would like to pause for a while and recollect to my mind all the persons I met and events I participated in, and try to find out the new elements I had failed to take note of. Reality cannot remain monotonous, because remaining unchanging or monotonous may be the death-knell of any kind of reality. As one of my old professors used to say, change is the only thing that does not change, and every change brings in newness. It is this newness which makes life worth living, and makes life all the more meaningful. I know when I meet my partner in the morning, I will know that she is a new person, and that when I see my boss in the office the next day, and if I tell myself that I am going to meet a new person, life may become quite adventurous and exciting. Let me start looking at reality with new eyes each day, each hour, each minute, and each second, and my life cannot remain the same again!

On the Lap of Universe

I realise how hard it is for us to flow with time and space, when we have our pre-planned schedules, and wish they go as we imagined it to be. When something contrary takes place, we feel nature has betrayed or circumstances have robbed us of the pleasure of our wishes taking wings. It is harder to accept when we have stacked programs one after another, and if there is one little program which falls off the stack, then the entire program falls flat, and we feel it a betrayal by nature. But if only we can let our next hour and next day be taken care of by the infinite time and space, then we feel secure! I had felt it in my bones that it is better to keep my heart open to alternative plans, when I get things organized for a program. Let me illustrate how I had learnt this lesson through the hard way, but I don't regret for it.

All my plans were set, and I had informed well ahead of time about my plans for the next three months; I had even planned days much before time, and as the days approached, I saw all my plans crumble one by one. Initially I was a bit taken aback, and even annoyed with the people who let my schedule crumble, but after a little while realised I cannot be the master of the situation. I should have the agility and ability to flow with the situations, whatever be its nature. But once I had re-programmed my mind to be prepared for any eventuality, I realised that I did not collapse when further fall took place. I could take them with a smile.

There is an inborn tendency in me to expect my plans to work out well, come what may. I would not care even if there is a loss to some one, because my plans worked out to the last letter; there is selfishness in all my plans, and I wish the whole world revolved round my little world. I want to be the centre of the universe, and want all of them to encircle me, protect me, shield me from all that is destructive. But I also imagine what would happen if all the human beings thought the same way. There could only be chaos. If there is no chaos, it is because there is a vast majority of people, who would bear all consequences, in order to keep a few millions happy. They would let their worlds crumble, so that the well-planned schedules of the mighty may stand. But unfortunately nature does not look if one is a mighty or a mean; all of them have to bear the consequences of humanity's biggest crime, self-centredness.

I realise there is a joy in floating with time and space; the whole world is at my disposal, and the whole blue sky is my home, and there are no boundaries, no divisions, no no-man's land, and no wire-fence. I am free as I was born, as I should be. The whole world is my home; night and day merge in the eternal time, as I float leisurely. I am the master of my universe in this space-time continuum. The joy that originates in such a continuum cannot be compared to the worldly happiness. I would like to imagine as if I am an eagle, which would venture into the thickest cloudsest on a stormy day, without fear. The frightening thunder and lightening may forebade me, but I am my own master. If I have to enter into such a world of sheer pleasure, then I need to give up my space and time notions and concepts. I cannot fly in the sky as the clock strikes twelve! The heart has a clock that is quite different from the temporal and spatial notions. And entering in there is heaven for sure.

Today I would like to pause for a while and think of the plans and schedules I had made for the next one week. I would like to see how adamant I am to hold fast to my schedules; Let me close my fist tightly, holding tight my schedules, plans, preparations for tests, examinations, interviews, and release the fist slowly, breathing out slowly. Let the universe take hold of me, instead of I trying to control the universe. Because the law of the universe are quite contrary to our earthly values. When I am under the control of the universe, I am my own master, for it is a joy for a mother to let her child explore the world around, and when I am on the lap of the mother universe, I have nothing to worry. She cannot afford to let me lose my face!