(Courtesy: Anne Frank House, Amsterdam)
If only people had as big a heart as yours.
That road had a sharp gradient drop before merging on to B.C road. It lay bare on one edge, while on the other was shielded by unknown creepers, clinging in desperation to the walls of the mansion of a rich baron, now long-forgotten and quite possibly dead. It waved and curved shortly afterwards with its shenanigans, before it ran pass the B.P.(tm) LPG storage, a single storied building with its typical multi layers of cheap paint and familiar air of arrogance. During the busy days, the place was a sight to behold with its long impatient lines and familiar metallic clanking of the forebearers of the daily bread all weighed by the ever present cloak of incompetence followed to the point of religiosity.
The road left the store behind to follow a sharp sinusoidal dip, to the endless terror and joy of 8 year olds clinging to the back seats of their fathers Chetak, an experience matched only by the mighty rides of big town parks. But its not like they had anything to fear, as just at the crest at the other end stood the neighbourhood temple, perhaps strategically placed to assuage any nascent doubts as to their fathers motor skills.
It then took a slow, almost non deliberate, curve to the left.And it is the on the banks of this curve, that our destination lay.
“Thank you, as always” the spectacled middle aged supervisor remarked, while keeping her head sunk in the dusty logs as she made the entry.
It was as hideous on the inside as on the out. Protruding at an awkward angle, the building seemed to be at odds with the general scheme of the roads demeanour. The steps leading up to it, a case in point of irony, chipped away at most places and laid bare their heedless makers intentions. Surrounded by others towering beside it, the building would have found itself covered in perpetual shadows for entirety of the day had it not been the first in the lane.
To most it was just the ‘Blind Girls School’. A 2 storeyed, 5 or 6 bedroom building with a small office at front. Inside there were few walls,mostly separating the major rooms from one another.Among the rooms, 2 perhaps were classrooms while the rest held the bunk beds with and one makeshift kitchen or storage. If one were frequent enough to visit, they would find the rooms playing a sad tragic game of round robin with each other with every room acquiring a new role on every visit.
“Sir, you can send the kids to distribute the fruits.” she said, finally looking over.
I wanted to ask this for a long time! Why Yoga?
How are you able to discipline yourself, each morning without fail, to wake up every day, follow a fixed path, control all the enticements of a warm bed and lethargy, and follow your sacred routine to inch perfection. Bad weather, new location, lack of sleep, workload? I have never seen these immaterial things come in your way!
Sadhguru helped me understand the ‘why’. Although for someone as ignorant as me, it ignited a sequence of another set of questions, suitable for another post perhaps.
Your ‘obsession’ in yoga, it turns out according to sadhguru, is a way of finding out who you are. It is a way of finding your inner self, finding the ‘path’. Art is an expression, a way of giving in to your senses and bringing them about. Yoga, on the contrary, is a reflection inwards. A confluence of your body and spirit, or so I understand. In words of Sadhguru, you are not satisfied with deduction, nor beliefs based on experiences of others can quench your thirst. Yoga is the path to experience.
Here are some links that I should remember for reference:
Is there a god? (wonderful story about a charvak and Gautam)
What is God?
What is Enlightenment? (For my meek mind)
As a final note, I also realised this is in fact not a right question to ask. If the experience is right, If I am in constant ecstasy of the creation, will I ever doubt why it was created in the first place? Perhaps when we sit next time to talk, you can tell me whether I am on the right path or not.
Seeking your blessing.
Its almost been 2 months since I’ve come to this country. Here are some serious and non serious (curious non theless )observations about this country and myself that I’ve made in the past 2 months.
- Tea is CRAPPY here-This country is making me hate tea, my beloved indo-anglan (is that a word ‘anglan’ or should I revert back to anglo indian) beverage does not taste the same anymore, its slowly being eroded from its position of prominence by the harsh and coarse ‘cuppa coffee’.
- People are weird. And thats not just the Americans that I’ve met, even fellow international students (read Indian).
- One can never get over leaving home. Even after 2 months, out of nowhere I might remember you mom and brother for no reason and then feel sad about it.
- I am a man of routine. People get bored of routines easily. NOT ME! I am a sucker for routines, even it means having the same source of entertainment every weekend, or the same breakfast, or the same position in library. I like when things are preordained and follow a strict regimen.
- I STILL can find time to read books. Dont freak out, its not the same read till eyes gorge out type of reading but yes after a week or so I do get the time to sneak in a few pages.
- It takes me a LOT more time than others to get used to new things. Perhaps point 4 is to blame. I cant adjust to easily and readily. Takes some time and working to get into that.
- Point 6 leads us to -> My plan of action needs to change. Here comes the hard part. Ive been used to doing things a certain way back home, but here that needs to change if I have to have a shot a little scope of any measure of success.
- I like the idea of a ‘home’. Perhaps Im little too naive to understand it properly but yes, I like the idea of being in a home. Might say Im old school but I like the idea of a place where I know Ill be loved, liked (basically tolerated) and most importantly fed. Perhaps its little too soon to think of such things, but I think when the right time and the right person comes along, I might be ready to take the plunge. But then again thats taking things a little too far as of now.
- Things are pretty much automated here as compared to home. Yay, that means more employment opportunities for me.
- Whenever I like someone, or the idea of someone. i end up getting dissapointed or embarrassing myself by expecting too much. Yes, happened again. But I think i need to slow things down. NO ONE, not even you and mom for that matter, can understand me in the very first few interactions if we were to be strangers. So expecting them from someone unknown is taking things a little too far (Taking things to far might have been a better headline for this post it seems.). So, in short, I liked someone, straightaway blurted out how I felt, made things awkward, ended up loosing a good friend. God I swear I’ll have to make do with you guys fixing up for me if things keep up like they have been since college.
So these are some observations. ill post on this blog whenever I get the time. Love you Always…
I have grown up listening to you telling us how we exist and yet fail to live, how we are asleep while still awake.
I have been thinking on these lines for sometime now.
We have been crawling across the same planet for quite a number of years now, as a species we have managed to put ourselves largely over the natures driving forces and put ourselves at a pedestal overlooking a significant part of the universe which we are both a part and observers of. Isn’t it strange that while observing the universe we are also in a certain aspect acknowledging our own existence and observing it?
What means to be human? What is the thing, that ceases us from being just ‘objects’ and transforms us something more fleeting. Definitely our emotions play a part, yet they are no more than withered leaves carried out by autumn winds. They are mere reflections of the whole from which they arise, perhaps so is the case with our feelings. Rendering meaning to this wonderful innate joy of pure existence puts asks from us to define a way in which we are to go about this experience.
I like to believe that perhaps life is just a dance, played out to the music orchestrated by the cosmos. We have been dancing for millions of years, its just that during these few decades of our existence as humans we become aware(yet frustratingly ignorant) of this beautiful dance played out in the vast cosmic stage that is the universe. Be are both at once universe and its observers. A wonderful case of the examiner examining itself. Alan Watts is surely to be blamed for my such thoughts, but yet bizarre as they may seem I can’t help but agree. We are offsprings of an entity, the universe, far more complex and vibrant than the god of the myths.The universe expects us to understand itself through us. To wonderfully, tragically, or as we seem fit live out in all the possible ways of experience, like a mother witnessing far away lands through the saying of her child (though I make the deliberate error of such a metaphor)
I wish to write more on this subject but the late hour forces me to end this a little abruptly (Its 2:28 AM ALREADY!) by commenting how wonderful it is to just merely exist in its true sense 🙂
Take care !
I came across my first reading of a work of John Steinbeck while going through your collection this winter, he writes in a eloquent manner with emphasis on the underlying human emotions to a situation. I had read an article on him earlier than that, which I had saved, unknowing to the fact that I will get to like him as a novel writer, it shows a letter Steinbeck sent to his son when informed that the 15 year old felt that he was in love and goes like:
November 10, 1958
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.
But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Don’t worry, I haven’t found someone like that which, I ensure you and ma, if I ever did you’ll be the first ones to be informed.
Of course one finds little to contradict this ageless wisdom, but still it had me thinking, why a selfless “outpouring of everything good in you” be limited to only your affection to the other person, shouldn’t such an outpouring be the basis of everything you do in life?
Yesterday I was reading about the potters of Andretta, a remote village in Himachal, famous for its unique pottery and artistic history.
A potter, I came to understand, does not know initially what final exact shape her work is going to take. She starts with a small lump of clay and works her fingers around it to put forth the combined force of the spinning disc and her imagination with a meditative concentration.This caught my imagination that isn’t this the same outpouring that Steinbeck talked of?
An artist is considered to be someone who gives vent to her emotions, someone who extends the inner reaches of his mind into the objects that are created.But why can’t we be artists in our own rights, what stops us choosing a path that liberates us from the clutches of the mundane and helps us express ourselves.
Work is something that is considered a mean to financial security yet it is seldom in layman terms considered to be a medium of self expression for a person. What stops us from converting our mundane daily tasks into profound expressions ?
Sadly I don’t know, neither do I have a definite answer of what I would call as my medium of self expression. But what I know is that no matter what field I get into I must try and use it as something that can spread the colors of my life.
“You go against popular feelings; you criticise a hero, a great man who is generally believed to be above criticism. What happens? No one will answer your arguments in a rational way; rather you will be considered vainglorious. Its reason is mental insipidity. Merciless criticism and independent thinking are the two necessary traits of revolutionary thinking. … This is not constructive thinking. We do not take a leap forward; we go many steps back.
Our forefathers evolved faith in some kind of Supreme Being, therefore, one who ventures to challenge the validity of that faith or denies the existence of God, shall be called a Kafir (infidel), or a renegade. Even if his arguments are so strong that it is impossible to refute them, if his spirit is so strong that he cannot be bowed down by the threats of misfortune that may befall him through the wrath of the Almighty, he shall be decried as vainglorious.
…It is necessary for every person who stands for progress to criticise every tenet of old beliefs. Item by item he has to challenge the efficacy of old faith. He has to analyse and understand all the details. If after rigorous reasoning, one is led to believe in any theory of philosophy, his faith is appreciated. His reasoning may be mistaken and even fallacious. But there is chance that he will be corrected because Reason is the guiding principle of his life. But belief, I should say blind belief is disastrous. It deprives a man of his understanding power and makes him reactionary.
Any person who claims to be a realist has to challenge the truth of old beliefs. If faith cannot withstand the onslaught of reason, it collapses. After that his task should be to do the groundwork for new philosophy. We believe in nature and that human progress depends on the domination of man over nature. There is no conscious power behind it. This is our philosophy.”
I was wondering over the thought that people somehow are self centered to come to terms with what real love is. Since I didn’t hear the person in question speak on the topic myself, I will restrict my views to a general point of view.
A fleeting glance of the human population at large fails to generate a comforting image, I agree. But the insinuation that the people at large have become so engrossed in their egos that they understand what “love” is seems a bit preposterous.
Love or Care is an essential feeling having implications over the very existence/survival of the human species. While it may seem that world today, is evil and unjustified, but we tend to forget that if taken over a large amount of time, surpassing many lifetimes, one would observe an upwards curve in the tolerance level of the human society.But tolerance on a societal level cant be called love can it?
So then the apologists for human ignorance might say that ‘love’ is an essential feeling of complete submission to someone. It can be a deity, a loved one, a philosophy or anything else. It seems that love in invariably connected to loyalty in one way or another. While the implication of love is itself being loyal.I think that if you somehow come to realize that a person or an institution has not done enough to reciprocate, you might start feeling a little undone by them. And thats where the ‘ego’ comes in. Why ‘I’ wasn’t rewarded or ‘I’ was denied. But then again these are generalizations, and hence they are pretty hard to deal with. Sometimes it may so happen, that continuing with unwarranted affection for someone may be the becoming of our own harm. In that case if its in your own benefit to leave the person/institution, then perhaps why not? After all attachment is the precursor to pain.
“Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.” ~Alan Watts