I got my first sneak peak into the Zen philosophy yesterday; just a soup in the food for thought.
And it was disturbing. And then marvelous.
Disturbing, because it is most inconvenient to fathom that all you are, and all everybody around you is, is mind-body – the co-existence of certain hardware and certain software.
Marvelous, because thankfully Continue reading “Find yourself at home…”
“Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.”
~ Mitch Albom
It breaks my heart to have parted ways with so many dear people…people that used to be such a tremendous source of belonging in my life. I don’t know what the future brings, whether these paths might converge again, but I cherish them, I miss them sorely, and I send them love.
If only we all took pride in thinking for ourselves.
And did not weave our entire lives in order to conform with what has been thought for us.
What if we could envision that this whole world is one big laboratory, the ‘Life’ laboratory, where each of us is born, and we conduct our own experiments, have our own little accidents, and come to our very own findings before we leave the laboratory, just as empty and wonderful as it was?
Continue reading “Freedom from…conformity (The Life Laboratory)”
Your index finger, I mean.
You may be angry, you may be concerned, and you may be doubtlessly right. But if you’re pointing out your index finger towards me when you’re talking, if you’re prodding, that is, I’m not going to listen to you. Nobody is.
There’s a story in Hindu mythology. A demon ‘Shoorpakan’ is said to have been a great devotee of Lord Shiva. For years, he stood in penance at the tip of a huge, sharp, heated needle surrounded by blazing fire. All this, for earning a wish from the Lord himself. Lord Shiva, shaken by the might of Shoorpakan’s determination, granted the evil demon a wish. (Those days, even if you were being evil, if you were devoted to it, you were considered worthy of a boon.)
Continue reading “Mind your anger, mind your finger”
There lived somewhere they say
A boy who never cried,
Through every loss he showed
His handsome superficial side…
They say he never cried
When as a young lad he had to leave home,
That’s when his older kin thought their boy,
would grow up strong, but with a heart of stone…
That might have kept him from weeping
Even on that dreadful unfortunate night,
When sitting ride beside his driver’s seat
his younger brother had died… Continue reading “The boy who never cried”
There is nothing wrong with being myself. There is nothing wrong with falling in love. There is nothing wrong with feeling emotionally overwhelmed. There is nothing wrong in not knowing to drive. There is nothing wrong in not being the ‘alpha’-woman. There is nothing wrong in not having the perfect figure. There is nothing wrong in not knowing to speak perfect English. There is nothing wrong with having had a failed relationship or a violent one. There is nothing wrong in not having had any relationships at all.
But I will keep wanting to better myself. In whatever little steps I can take. I will keep challenging myself. Without stretching my identity and conscience beyond limit, I will do my best to be perfect and flawless. It might take me time. But I realise, and so does the little sphere of light that guides me from somewhere within, a light I call God, that I am constantly working towards overcoming my fears and shortcomings and scars. You might not see it. Or you might see it but not acknowledge it. And that might hurt me immensely, because I am more emotional than many. But at the bottom of my heart, I know that I need to rise, I know I need to move on without waiting for approval or appreciation or even support, for deep inside, I know that what matters most to me is that my conscience is clear, and that I live my life without being a burden to anyone, that I enjoy my term in this bountiful life, and that when I die, I embrace death with open arms and watery eyes, as if it were you.
What is missing is awareness.
That yesterday, someone as young and ambitious as you somewhere in this world died driving the way you did this morning.
That yesterday, someone else’s brother or son, of your brother’s or son’s age, raped a minor, left her to die and got away with it.
That yesterday, a person just like you died of drug overdose.
That a young expecting mother just like you, or your wife, or your sister, skid over a pothole on a road just like the one you travel on everyday; and lost her baby.
There are people just like you, spread far around you. And everyday, someone like you was victimised. Everyday, someone like you dies of negligence, indifference or lack of initiative towards setting life’s little and great things right.
Once you’re aware of this fact, you would be wise enough to realize that you could be the next in line. Pull yourself out of the line, by being more careful, considerate and standing up against even the smallest of wrong doings.
Read about people like you, and what they did wrong. And correct yourself wherever you can, whenever you can. Be safe, be strong.
Gently, dear tread upon the thin line…
That unfurls between what is and what could be..
Every step you take leads you further away,
closer and closer to a place I can never see…
But you shall smile, you shall be thrilled,
by the sights you see there, and the sweet smell of peace…
you shall wake, and your skin shall clear,
your eyes shall gleam, and you will have seen
your home far from home, far from your haven on this earth,
close to that of the mother who gave you birth…
there she sleeps, I have dreamt…
and the prayers in her sleep to you she has lent…
so before her eyes open, and before she must search again,
go my dear, walk gently, and be born again…
A fearless writer, a less popular singer, a daughter of a legendary singer whom the whole nation worships.
A woman who looked up in admiration and love to her mother, and down in sympathy to her troubled early childhood.
A woman who got married, divorced, then found a partner for a noble social cause she wished to pursue; but lost him to God.
A life of struggle, then love, then depression.
A life she no longer wanted to live.
A life she ended with a gunshot.
Leaving behind her mother, the legendary singer, in inconsolable pain. For that woman, whose departed soul will continue to find peace in her mother’s vicinity, and for the mother, who must struggle to live on with the pain of losing her daughter and with the forever lingering doubt of having not done enough…for both of them, I pray.