Ramblings of Mind -7

Why is there a quest we seek, which defines the purpose of our lives?
The poverty, hunger, injustice and suffering all around us and more within; isn't it sufficient to shake us out of the stupor and futility in the way we exist?
Is it because the majority of us are still ignorant and selfish? We are unaware of the beauty and pathos in the life and live like a spider at the centre of the small web we create of our own ideas?
The society or to use a more collective word, humanity, at large is growing ever more intolerant, war mongering and self centred for its own existence.
As one wades through the news and even our immediate vicinity, one cannot help but notice the anger and cruelty that is so palpable. Our cultural signposts, of music, art and literature are no longer there to nourish the soul and detox it, but have become tools for profit seeking and hedonism.
A select few with the right of their might decide for the majority and hence their ignorance is further laid upon generations that are easily swayed to gross materialism and becomes even more grotesque images of their ancestral follies.

Will the answers come too late to save us from a doom?
A future where nothing exists but darkness and ignorance? Are we all fated to be damned as a race and then fade into oblivion.
As a human being isn't it our responsibility and role to safeguard the place we are dependent for our existence?
Guess each must find his/her own path. And as Buddha said "All compounded things are ephemeral. Work out your own salvation"

Some quesions to oneself

What is that we want so utterly in our lives? The meaning which we all keep searching for and the myriad mazes we run through, from jobs to relationships to material possessions; is there a meaning as such? To be ones master, is there a way.. All the religions and meditations and all?
Unless the desires inside are understood, which takes a very serious mind, and not the shallow, frivolous one which the most of us possess, there will be strife within and without....Things come and go and keep encircling...
When we look for a way out of the rut, perhaps there is eternal darkness or perhaps there are a hundred ways..
The easy ways which have disastrous ends and ones which simply wind onto themselves.. Is freedom a butterfly fluttering away from us that we rush behind it with so much energy that we forget it is like trying to cast a net to snare one's own shadow?
When there are so many questions and no answer seems suitable, then the soul must forge its own shield in the fires of life.. Iron must fight iron and Poison must kill poison...
And yet the only thing in the whole world worth possessing is a heart that understands with all humility and faith that everything is one and hence all things sentient and insentient ones too, need respect, love and  care...
When we choose to be selfish, is when we start getting caught in the quicksands and the more we struggle, the surer we are of sinking...

Ramblings Of mind-6

Are heart and mind separate entities? Or is mind but an alibi/alias for the ego? Thoughts arise from needs and memories, which arise from the survival instinct. the survival instinct at its root has fear, which has the final root in the death.
All our laws, morality, rituals, prayers and other such things are but the result of fear.Even the way love is professed on terms of demand and supply; the laws of trade are but the repercussions of fear. Fear is the primordial emotion. There is no escape from it.
Momentarily, we might devise things like work, entertainment and other such hundred things from it, but somewhere in the life or most of the times, fear is present as sorrows and/or pains. the sensual pleasures and the life around it may be a diversion, and a good one too.  But fear waits patiently, biding its time; just around the corner. When you are all alone, bereft of support, internal and external, it catches you in its unforgiving grip.

And then ensues a combat, a mortal one, when your heart is filled with true sorrow. Perhaps that seems to be the way of the world. A quest, a thirst arises, to know oneself in all nakedness, devoid of name and other traps of recognition. The primal root of existence beckons us. The delusions are torn off from the flesh, and the dreary mirage of reality awaits, yawning its cruel and relentless jaws. It is a harsh journey where sometimes the destination is not an oasis, but a barren dune of ashes for your grave.
Fear shall however drive you on and on, until the path is red from the tracks of your bloody feet and your mind becomes a dark abyss of madness.

 Naturally then , the question arises if there is a path out? The human civilization has had more than ten  millennium of  gods, prophets, enlightened soul and all the carry along paraphernalia; still we are the same barbarians. only our tribal instincts have been taken over by nationalistic greed, religious fanaticism and other such things. the insanity remains incurable and the number of patients keeps increasing.


Definitions always rest on the wobbly ground of beliefs and hence the discrimination of right and wrong is always the choice between the devil and the deep sea. The time runs short and yet we bury ourselves into the mire of illusions as the ostrich would in sand, despite knowing the imminent danger. The internal conflict and resulting violence and hatred rot the introspection that might provide a respite and retreat from the self destruction we willingly but ignorantly choose.

We let the moments fleet past. Every one have their own reason, motives and alibis. A mad rush descends upon the senses and intellects as the sandstorms blocking the sun and all that is left is the sand and darkness, when its all over. The hourglass drains on.

We let the childhood pass in play and youth in careless fun and frolic. or their are more 'respectable' pursuits of fame, wealth and power. the simple, sweet connections with nature, both external and internal are slowly severed or lost. A silent smouldering flame of desires quietly burns away the existence and we are left with nothing but ashes when  it is all over.

Evening lit by the tender and shy young sliver of the moon, rises above the merrily flowing river.
The forest is all bathed in the enchanting golden light, smooth as silk. The very leaves seem to be magical, as if they will vanish with the slightest touch. A silence, arcane, covers the trees even as the quaint voices of night seem a part of the quietude hanging from the vines. A trance as if has settled over the dark canopy of the jungle and a magical beauty keeps watch over the night.
                                                    There is a slightly chill breeze that picks up from time to time and the rustle of leaves with the distant hoot of owls, remind of a watchman's call. When the wind dies, the mysterious silence once again spreads her satin cloak over the foliage.

Even dreams might loose their way into this dense archaic maze of verdure, blackened by night. The shadows of the tress from the moon seem darker than black and older than time. the haunting music of a forlorn solitude plays on the lips of the watcher. All these scenery exist for his senses only and yet he is a part of it, but somewhat  apart too; or perhaps they are same. The vibrations resonate softly in the hollow of heart and a virgin desire is born, to roam in the forbidden territories of  consciousness.

Where-from the dreams come? Are they but the remnants of the waking consciousness as the science would have us believe? Or is there some impenetrable secret behind those facades to an alternative reality, which are exclusive to ever individual? Perhaps they are a ghost town; the refuge of sanity where mind and heart are free from all the sham they create in search of safety and security.All names, forms, laws, rituals and relationship with the ego at the centre are lost in the streets of slumber town.

May be deep inside us all there is a dream, the quintessence of ourselves. The never-land we can just be witness to and never ever actually find. It is the place where I am just me, without you, anyone or even myself. Its a me unaware of its own existence. The only thing to do is sit in the shade of the tamarind tree by the river, and look up at the clouds floating in the azure skies. the murmur of river mixing in the verdure of the smiling earth and everything in harmony of love.

Wanderings of Mind

What when the desires are finished? Or are they ever?
When life finds that it has no more a purpose left, or that serving a purpose is rather an illusion created no one knows how or when, or perhaps we don't want to acknowledge the source; what then? Sometimes purpose seem like alibi created by life in order to sustain itself.

 The material existence has a limit and so does the physical body and hence, perhaps this immense search for immortality.
                                   May be it is ingrained in us; the ignorance within and without and the egoistic existence we lead, not to mention the way we are brought up. As Voltaire said "Born free, yet everywhere in chains."
At every step, what we face is immense decay and corruption, not only morally and physically, but also psychologically. The differentiations based on colour, creed, caste, religion, language and other innumerable man made criteria are but the tip of the iceberg. We may proclaim equality of mankind in political or religious ways, yet the truth remains that the greed prevails.
                     Everything and anything has been deified for the human sacrifice and we forget the most essential component of life is not money or language or some other creation of thought, but the mankind itself. And so the perversion creeps in, slowly. We have lost our bonds with nature and a self created world is what we live in. like narcissus, we have fallen in love with ourselves and that shall be the undoing of us.
                            There are senseless wars and mindless acts of violence and it seems a frenzy has been whipped within all of us that is pushing us to the edge. And like blind maniacs, we run towards the cliff, knowing not that the mist has kept us unaware of the final fall.

A walk in the woods, an autumn evening

A walk in the woods, quiet and forsaken,
As the season of autumn just sets in.
Trees are a thousand pillars, holding the skies aloft,
And the falling leaves trace a road, paved with gold.


A gentle cool breeze, accompanies me on the stroll,
She smells of earth and burnt wood in hearths.
The sun softly sinks away from the zenith,
And the blue sky is a pastel of orange and pink.


The merry brook plays a rippling lyre, on the stones
And the roosting birds o'erhead complete the orchestra.
It is the music arcane, a song of the forest's soul,
So old and yet so fresh; my heart's lost in a trance.


Am all alone by myself, perhaps the mirage of tranquility smiles,
As the twilight fades into a starry night; heaven a mirror of fireflies.
The silent night seduces me; an enchantress' temptations.
Far somewhere, on the edge of these treacherous illusions,
A pair of hazel eyes search for me anxiously and wait.


A sirens' song is all this scenery, I know,
Yet I shall be drawn to it again tomorrow.
Now, from this land of fantasy, I take a flight,
Go home, have supper and to kiss my daughter a good night.

SPRING

Broken wings; the butterfly cried,

The spring has forsaken her.

Soft, powdered snow clings to the earth,

Far away is yet the golden chariot of summer.

A solitary Robin waits everyday, for the day,

Its song shall echo in the valley of flowers.

Naked, expectant tender stems, bear the long pains

For the moments they shall deliver the joy.

Hark! The cuckoo has broken her silence,

A breeze of melody fills every breath with music.

Mango trees laden with humming honey bees,

The sonnets of the season sound so sweet !

Dreamy days are filled with heavenly stupor

And the warm nights heady with aroma; of wild green apples!

The halcyon has finally descended on earth,

Her raiment of white all draped in the silken rainbow.

A game of warmth and aromas; world whirls and swirls,

Another wink of time and the circle of life rotates once more.

The butterfly? Her wings are all jewels now…..

Gunjan (25/12/09)

Name

Do you remember my love, the day,
You asked me, if your name was
Written on my heart?

I opened it up, for you to see.
Lo, it was nowhere to be found !
You left, sad and broken, and I amazed.



I Guess I forgot to tell you,
I had written it in my blood ...

Death

What it means to die ?

In the arms of your beloved,

Or forsaken, in an alien land?

Some moments of pain and/or joy,

The ever rolling wheel of time,

Is death the final end of it?

A bag of flesh and bones and blood,

Strung on the sinews of breath,

The house of cards, falls apart.

Some songs never uttered, never, never,

Though the soul has sung them so long.

A final note, or is death a new Aalaap?

You and me and he or she,

Friends or strangers; or reflections in the mirror?

All's an illusion; you'll know when it breaks.

Eons and ages and countless sunrises,

I've watched in joy, awe and wonder.

Yet the beauty of the night, only sunset reveals.

Pages after pages; chapters after chapters,

Patterns on sheets, in black and white.

Is death then the last full stop, in my story?

I don't know where I am going,

Only god knows where I've been.

But I know, I journey to my final goal......Like you.

A Wish....

Pale and somber, the last morning of November,
The first dew drop, on the fallen white orchid.
Simmering summer sun, or the blinding vine of thunder,
An enigma; kissed me with lips of mists and you hid.



Quietly, gently, silently, your footsteps of the lotus bloom,
Innocent smile of the baby leaf, and the eyes of skies azure.
Yet those lines of kohl, a border; an arcane forest's gloom,
Your aroma; with breeze it floats, my heartache's only cure.



A milky white swan in my heart's lake,
And a thousand raindrops drenching me; your laughter.
Rainbow hued fantasies; flights they take,
Ruby red wine lips; there taste lingers long after.



The melancholy tranquil, in shadow of the hill,
Echoing silence of fleeting moments passing by.
Though no blank space or chasm does it fill,
Still a haunting vortex of time rises high.



The pink rose buds smile and gaze,
I hold you, in an everlasting embrace
Daffodils swaying, set the valley ablaze,
I've touched the heavens; in your face.



A crystal blue rivulet, glides from the mountain,
As the soft, shimmering sheets of virgin ice melt.
And the young river is born, I don't know when,
The nymph of the valley, wears a silver belt.



The seasons have changed, spring is here,
Bees hum sonnets, o'er the sweet mango pollen.
I know you're gone forever, yet I look everywhere,
Beads of joy; from the life string have fallen.



Its all a game, the matter of luck and chance,
Just a sleight of hand; all's same in the end.
A last flickr of hope, lost in mirage's cruel glance,
Yet I wish, the winds of fate, in my favor I could bend !!

An Ode to You

There shall always be an ode on my grateful lips,
For your twinkling eyes, which have kissed them my beloved !



When the perfumed moonlight kisses the virgin Arabian sands,
The fingers of my longings shall caress your sleep, as dreams of me.

Hark ! Somewhere far far away, a guitar strums the notes of intoxication,
Does it summon our enchanted loves to a tango of ecstasy ?




Seas frozen on the peak of Himalayas; the cold ice are my tears for you,
They will melt silently in the warm sunshine of life; the ever pure Ganges!!

How many ages have passed since, I have lost the count of my breaths now,
When the soft satin of your skin wrapped me in its embrace the first time ever...




And today a barren, haunting silence, like a huge, dead and cold glacier,
Quietly stands, where the gardens of our laughters bloomed in the springs..

A song, born when the tender lips of time first kissed those of the eternity,
It still resonates in my soul; a place hollowed by pain, when you left me forever.




The board of life, made of squared chunks of breaths, shades of black and white,
The hands of clock moves pieces at will, left and right and up and down; all of us.

And one thing that I know now for sure my love, after all these games,
Fate is the best player, the uncrowned king, of the Chess a round here...

The Rain

Drops of musk fell from the petal,

Lime fresh, which was bathed in gentle showers

The rains have arrived !!!

The sheet of green, all dry and dustladen,

Is washed and renewed in the torrents of joy,

Drops pitter-patter on the tender shoots.

Frogs croak hoarse and the peacocks dance drunk,

Grasshoppers and crickets chirp opera in the dark.

Grass and trees sway with the notes of gale and swoon !

Nights are darker; they wear cloaks of clouds,

There is a li'l more ice in the martini of the breeze.

Silently falling on me, the raindrops seduce !

A thousand suns rise, in the puddles made overnight,

Every child in the village now owns a swimming pool.

Heavens smile with glee, when the kids jump and play.

I watch and wonder. It's all so magical; the almighty's miracle !

An intoxicated life dances, high on the divine elixir from the skies.

May our children and theirs to come, be blessed by it; Forever !

Amen...

Hookah

The pipe of love, I pick in my hands,
Quietly I savour the dusky smoke of life,
From the hubble-bubble, made of my brittle dreams.

Embers of time, slowly burn;incense of my hearbeats rise
Suffused of the inebriating aroma; of ripe apples ?
In dreamlands, far away, my soul happily flies.

With each hearty puff, a tender intoxication mingles,
Into the crimson ale, coursing through my veins.
A cocktail of joys and sorrows brewed, ages.

Ashes,flakes of memories, silently collect on top,
So soft! I tenderly touch.Yet they singe the fingers!
I simply blow them away, into oblivion.

Air,Water and fire, all jumbled together in harmony!
Yet seems like cosmos arranged in a bizzare mix of paradox.
Silently I watch the bubbles go up and down...


Puff, puff, puff !!!

Changes and Challenges..The Indian Woman

Her whole life is one long stillness of prayer.

The word 'prayer' is what sums up a life lead well and truthfully, is what I feel. Just let it be one of silent and humble devotion. The only true way that my religion requires for salvation, freedom, nirvana or mukti or whatever you may call it, is to free oneself of desires and possessions.

When you pray and you truly pray, not the usual standing before god and begging for all material things instead of worshipping, will you find that freedom.

I look upon a true Hindu woman and her life as a personification of the word prayer or a better 'Aradhana' , as in Sanskrit. She literally gives her entire life in all of hers, as a mother, sister, daughter and beloved wife for the happiness and comforts of the ones she loves. not a single demand for herself, even when she is selfish, it is for someone who she loves and not for her own. That is the the ideal of Hinduism in all its hidden glory, giving up our egos and comforts for others.

And yet these hundreds of years of selfless sacrifice have brought our race to nothing but to look upon women as something of a commodity, a possession. She is a thing and not a sentient being, who is to work ceaselessly for the comfort of man. she is not to have a say in her life, all of her life.

Most males and Indians are no exception, rather more aggressive in this respect, suffer from a false sense of mastership. they have over generations come to believe that women are created to serve and please them only. We comfortably forget that our mothers, sister, wives and daughters do not obey or follow us only because of our 'Manliness' alone. They do it more so because of the love they possess, for which they are ready to vanquish their egos and themselves too. May be it is selfless or selfish, but that is the case in most instances.

However these long times of servile love has imbued both men and women with decadence. Much as men can't handle strong and independent women, the fairer sex has also learnt to forgo correct and right things for the sake of 'Family' as well as their own selfish nature; the latter being a by-product of sense of self preservation. And each successive generation of parents and teachers have only reinforced these beliefs in the coming ones with their skewed visions and teachings.

The result? We have a society where men are considered inferior to each other and women, to all men; for 'the hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world'. And when those hands themselves are weak, what do we expect them to raise other than a race of bigots and maniacs. Those who are never given a choice in their lives, what education and culture will they give to their offspring save fear and hidden malice and distrust.

And this has created a paradox in recent times and more so with our generation. the older ones, our mothers and all are still rooted to the old and orthodox ideas of their inherent inferior position in family in family and society. The newer generations however fare no better and are caught in a doldrums as if. Most of them coming from 'strict' and middle class families when living, reading and working in the home towns are typically the 'Good girls'. And these same women when away from families are easy preys to a hundred temptations, waiting to beguile and destroy them.

And famished as they are, for the simple wants of freedom to think and choose, many cross over the lines just trying to experiment or have fun. the simplest evidence to illustrate these are the demographical data which clearly show the rise of smoking and drinking among women, not only in big metros but all over the nation. These two vices earlier considered the supreme taboo are now termed as casual and cool. And these are eating into the very roots of our culture and civilization as Hindus and Indians as well. Various social magazines proudly carry out sex surveys that celebrate 'the coming of age of the Indian women' . Replete with lurid articles on the ever increasing promiscuity in our country and new 'brave' concepts as 'Live-in relations' , where both men and women are reduced to the state of mere concubines or as in Hindi the word 'Rakhail' I do not know what they are trying to prove. The popular modes of entertainment viz. television and cinema seem to harp on the axes premarital and post marital relationships and other such misguided openness. And the phenomenon are no longer confined to large cities and metros, but also common in the smaller towns.

A question however arises. Are women only to be blamed for this condition? To a large extent we may use the doctrine of self responsibility and other such things but everyone knows the adage “You need two hands to clap.” So the society must accept the other half of the responsibility. A horse if kept in confinement for long, will naturally hesitate to walk into a open space even if left free. Yet after a few half hearted canters, it will run in every direction without knowing where to go. Too thirsty a man drinks water in large gulps not caring about the taste and quality. Therefore, it is quite natural that our womenfolk the modern, educated and self reliant, but away from the family are prone to practises which are physically and emotionally destructive.

All of this raises a need for a solution if there is one. Is it ? I think there is. however it will take some time. When a river breaks a dam, the first rush always brings the filth and silt which has been collecting against the wall for so many years. Similarily, this ongoing upheaval and change in the women around us is but normal sign of the process in motion. This eruption of so called 'repressed sexuality' and other forms of femine transformations, both good and bad. However as the flow come to a normal level in due course of time, the river will become life giving once more.

It is our collective responsibility to understand and assimilate the good things that have come from these transformation. All of us the parents, teachers, friends, colleagues and most of all, each individual especially the modern Indian women must understand their rights and roles. Theirs is a delicate and very important role in our culture. they must learn to get their rights as responsible adults and do their rightful duties.

We want to go back to the days of Savitri the ever pure and ever free, who chose her own husband fully knowing the consequences. Let the daughter of Modern India be once more Rani ahalya bai, Jhansi Rani Laxmibai and virago chennama of Kittur. No doubt we have modern examples of Indira Gandhi, but these are far and few. The age old gender bias and the religious narrow-mindedness are sending us back to the medival ages. We need to turn back and move ahead.

the only thing neede is to provide right example before our children and everyone else and believing in the choices they make.

We need to be their guides and not their masters.And then only once more the pious motherland of ours reverberate with the chants of

"Yatra naari pujyante, ramanti tatra deavata"

Verily the gods reside, where the women are worshipped..

Amen...

Thanks for your time and patience

Picture : Raja Ravivarma painting--Lady with a flower garland

The Dark Side of the Moon

Something, a bit dark....




Have you ever felt all alone and forlorn? Something running from the tip of yor head
to the end of your toe, chilling all that is and freezing something inin your
veins. Something that is arcane,pure and unadulterated, like life itself ,surging
through.
With every breath of yours, it slows and clots.
And yet a sudden spasm blows it up all again.
A dormant volcano brought to life, breathing fire, turning all ice into lava.
Yet it flows down, the ale of spirits, scarlet and all intoxicating.
Drip ,drip,drip; drop by drop it falls and accumulate, blackening the floor beneath.
Thick and dark, it reeks of a sickly sweet mixed smell; the smell of dreams and
desires both hidden and revealed. of the tales your heart hid in a deep lair or told
them for the winds to spread. of guilts and sins and thoughts so beautiful and
lovely as the summer mornings and the ones dark, pitch dark of the secret revolting
pleasures you want to enjoy.
Thoughts that rush all at once, swirling and hurtling; to suffocate you,smother your
senses drowning every last bit of your existence into oblivion.
And a bleak purple silhouette enwraps you, as you lie in the bed; a crimson stream
running down your slashed wrists and slit throat.
Your mouth! Its full of bitter bile and blood; your own blood, every time you cough.
Tell me, how it taste? Nice and hot? or Vile and salty?
Inches by inches pain shoots up in your body,like the poison from a viper's kiss.it
crawls all along you and singes every part it touches. you burn and smoulder, but no
flames ensue, no smoke either.

Calm down my friend.Lie silently; feel yourself floating in a vast river or on blue
sheets of icy glaciers that skim the oceans.
Just drift uninhibited; give up the futile struggles.

And embrace your final destiny. The last dance.....
Amen!


Regards,
Gunjan

Ramblings of Mind - Part 3

oDear Guys and gals, another one in set of the Meanderings of My mind. I just want you all to read and enjoy. I do not wish to hurt anyone. The views are entirely mine, no judgments on anything/one. Grammatical mistakes are unavoidable. Please enjoy the article and thanks one and all for your time spent to read it.

!

Mind is the most beautiful thing, sometimes I feel. It’s so wonderful creation of a master worker. It has created marvels of marvels with all what nature gifted us with. A will to go beyond the seemingly unsurmountable impossibilities posed by nature. The impediments of distances, depths and heights, unthinkable and unfathomable as they were, but no longer. Not to mention the barriers of cultures and climates. So many inventions we take for granted so many things around us; small everyday commonplace things. We forget the beauty imbued into trifles, as they seem. Rains on rooftop, the smell of a lawn cut freshly, smiles all around you, of small kids or strangers and your loved ones. I feel like dancing, when I listen to a tune played somewhere., on a radio on a loudspeaker. Songs, they lift the heart in a way nothing else can. Nature has given from her coffers so much, and we have used the gift of intellect bestowed upon by the lord to recreate the magic. Sometimes I sit and think of the things I daily use and my heart is filled with awe and admiration to what we have achieved, as humankind.

Let me start with getting up from my bed thing, by the pleasant sound of the alarm in my cell phone. Now cell phone is an amazing piece of engineering. A music player, a phone of course, message storage box, radio, internet and what not. Name it and you have it. Taking a bath on the third floor, under a shower seems pretty normal, except if you can imagine bringing the same amount of water from a well. Then comes dressing up with clothes I feel comfortable in. And last but not the least my shoes, Lee Cooper ones. So nice they are, so cozy. I just wonder who would have invented a comfort so necessary. Hats off to the guy/gal, who built the first shoe.

And also to the hundreds and thousands, who created small things of daily use; a needle, a mirror, a wheel, a button, a zip and thousand other things. Can we imagine our modern day Lives without any of them? Then there are some personal favourites, like the steam engine, a printing press, a typewriter, a telephone and internet. All of these spawned amazing progenies; the sparked desires. Desires to shorten distances, to bring all humanity and the knowledge together as one. Increased productivity in terms of material wealth and basic necessities. Better houses, better sanitation, better medicines and better life for one and all. Recreation is as important to man as work is. It takes us back to the primal source of all knowledge, the thought. Dance, music and other such fine arts make us transcend the normal limits of traditional thinking and reach a sublime sphere of being. A place where everything is beautiful and untainted. A flute sounds like a cuckoo singing, a drum like a thunderstorm. The magic of nature created from the creations of nature and human genius. The musical instruments are among the most marvellous of our inventions along with the colours, paints, the pen and the paper. For centuries they have kept the legends alive, nurtured the soul of mankind with milk of sweetness and hope. They created awe and inspiration for the generations; to achieve the impossible, to go beyond the unknown.

I am currently reading the autobiography of Helen Keller. For those of us who do not know her, she was a deaf and blind woman. She was the first deaf-blind person to achieve a Bachelor of Arts degree. The book is a gem for all of us to feel rather than just read. I would suggest everyone to read it, for it will show what determination and grit can achieve. More than that, it makes you appreciate the sensory faculties we have been blessed. Ability to see, hear, speak, touch and think; just imagine what your life will be without one of them?

And yet here we are, most of us going through the whole of life putting all those small jewels of time down the drain of ego; a murky, obnoxious mixture of petty feelings, jealousy, arrogance, hatred and so many negativities. Why do we need to feel superior to everyone around us, usually in a tyrannical sort of way? A foolish will to control everything around us, knowing very well you can’t. And in the end wrecking our lives and hurting the ones we claim to love. It’s so confusing and disturbing. Quarrels and fights on matters so non trivial. Which god to pray and how, when hardly one in a million will have the real knowledge of what praying really means, what actually god is. But I will slit throat of innocent people, burn houses without remorse, if your thinking differs from mine on anything and vice versa.

A continuous march to the grave or funeral pyre as the case may be all of us are onto. So my friend, why not make the path more serene, blissful and blessed for our children who follow us and make our ancestors proud who went ahead. Why can’t love each other without thinking of return or authority? Why can’t we let our children grow in a world full of mutual respect, love and help, instead of the deceitful and pathetic one we are creating? Everywhere I see people dividing themselves in name of god, caste, language, colour and creeds. Not considering even for a moment the hollowness of these criterion as we apply them today. People blowing up themselves for a reason they do not understand the implications of. Ages have passed and will pass. Hundreds of Buddha and Christ will walk and yet the earth will be deluged with blood of innocent men and animal for pleasure and insanity we pursue unabated. Leave the war fields and other such big things. Just look into our very own daily lives. Walk in front of a mall today. We can buy a pair of jeans or an ear ring or a Mcdee Burger, spending a large amount of money on something so frivolous. And yet giving a 5 Rs coin to a beggar we feel ourselves as King Vikramaditya, who it is said would donate one lakh gold coins every morning. Our generation is destroying itself in smoke, alcohol and promiscuous relationships.

You need not go far, just look at the young generation, guys and gals working in large cities, in sectors new and paying handsomely. They are flush with so much money, hard-earned though it is; they know not what to do with it. The vices are just around the corner in such cases to prey upon them. We walk blindfolded on the promontory eventually to fall in the sea. A rush is there to nowhere, and the end is not in my sight. And yet as someone truly said “Faith is the bird that sings, when the dawn is still dark”, I too have hopes. Hope that someday we are out of this stupor. So that we work for those who can not afford to help themselves.

I feel we are all connected, all humans and beasts,deep within. Otherwise why do I feel sad when a car crashes or a misguided guy blasts himself to pieces; when trees are cut just to create just another mall or something equally stupid? Why am I happy when I see a puppy jumping on all fours, a kid playing naked in rains smile, or when someone braves all difficulties to help a complete stranger? I am happy and sad with every one of you, as you are with me, knowingly or unknowingly. Just try and feel it, and you will know. May the best thing we have, our brains; the thing that created this keyboard I am typing on and the net which will give you this message, be calm and peaceful. Let us all grow in a spirit of togetherness, preserving our individual cultures and harmonizing with others. May we overcome petty habits of food, creed and language. They were created to group ourselves as one, not to be the cause of battles. We lower ourselves than the brutes that roam or the spineless creatures which slither, when we offend the spirit. And we know when we are wrong, just that we do not want to admit. Only because of a false sense of pride; a pride bound to go, whatever the reason of it be.

One day your body will fade away and your thoughts too. So will go away the name and riches you desire. We are not the centre of this Universe; we are mere specks of dust floating in this vast universe. It is all beautiful and happy, only you need to look the right way. And you will see the light, shining beautifully, beckoning you.

Let peace be unto us.

Amen

Love,

Gunjan

Wanderings of mind--Part 1

It grows dark outside my window on the third floor, as I sit alone and type.
Nothing as readable, just a few ramblings of mind fixed here. To locate my way back if I lose the path. Heat is a bit stifling and life too seems to have got stuck. So no rhyme, no rhythm, no reason. Come let's float in the flow, uninhibited without any struggles.

Sometimes a despondence creeps up out of nowhere, and grips the whole being. Losing into nothingness seems the only way out, but the path is uncertain too. So many people in my life, yet no one to who I can completely open my heart. A sense of responsibility and duty too hangs out, but towards what?

And suddenly you feel indifferent to all this hubbub and drudgery of existing. It all seems futile. No I am not being a depressed suicidal maniac, just plain bored of life.
It is like being in a party where no attraction or reason to stay is present, yet you can not leave for the sake of courtesy.

So I get up from the bench and start walking into the deep dark forests of my thoughts. Shrouded in mist and wrapped in cobwebs. Some memories so old, I forget what time forged it.
Is there a reason for memories to stay in your head? To warm you, warn you or hurt you repeatedly? I do not know neither I fathom. I continue my stroll as sun gives way to the approaching night. The river silently flows making a soft murmuring sound against the stones. A few boats with lanterns tarry homeward and someone plays a melancholy note on the flute.

far away mud houses are baked from inside by the kitchen fire, dark sooty smoke arising from the roofs. Children shouting and running around as the birds roost making an awful noise. A few stars appear on the horizon as if terrified to come out all together and shine. yet majestically night comes, wearing her black dress of darkness. she is a temptress, smelling all over of jasmine. The mesmerizing catwalk on moon rays and the teasing smile of cool breeze. feel like taking my shirt off and letting her kiss me all over. Soothe away all the weariness and worries. I light my cigarette and come back to my room, adding a bit of cloud to the air. My kiss to the mistress night;
I LOVE U.