The siege


The invaders were standing just outside the University walls, ready to wreck havoc and unleash their wrath at anything that was against their religion. Their numbers measured in thousands. Foot soldiers, horse riders, elephants, exotic beasts from the African continent and ferocious wolves with sharpened claws.

I looked around at our resistance, a mere hundred royal guards and 1233 university scholars. But this was not time to be dejected. The book assured us that strength in the time of adversity is the mark of a true yogi. We had discipline, training, resources like food and weapons. But most importantly we had, what was more potent than a million such armies.

We had the power of the Gods. We had the Brahmastra.

 

Celebration City









The sky was pitch black but appeared red in the coffers of my


mind. Probably it was the effect of returning back home at 2


in the morning, meandering my way through infinite meetings


and numerous hours of staring at the artificial light emitting


on account of atomic reactions happening hidden behind my


laptop screen.



Before we move on, a line to wonder at the wonderful


wonderland of wonders of the big and the small. On one end


of the divine spectrum is the infinite world of galaxies and stars


and planets and satellites and innumerable such bodies. On the


other is the tiny world of billions of microorganisms, molecules,


atoms, protons, probably higgs bosons and much & more. And


in between we are who deal in finite numbers. The only part of


our being which tends to reach the infinite is the self, probably


not even the mind. 



Coming back to the surprisingly cool October night, when


Mumbai looked and felt just like it does in some 70’s bollywood


movie. Except when one observes the misery that is out there


for everyone to see on the streets and in the slums. The city ,


which holds the distinct distinction of having the maximum


percentage of population living in Slums.


But, there is another aspect to this apparent misery. It is


of hope and celebration. Starting with dahi handi leading


to the magnificent Ganesh Cahturthi celebrations , moving


into Navratri & Garba now and with Dhanteras and Diwali


to follow. Mumbai is also the city of celebrations. One even


goes to wonder if all these dancing and singing and shouting


folks , out on the streets have found their meaning of life


in the celebrations . Yes, faith in the almighty is the driving


tenet behind it. But on a day to day basis, it just might be


the force which keeps them going. If not religious then there


would be others :marriages , birthdays, name ceremonies,


anniversaries , new jobs , new businesses and on and on.



Get busy being miserable or get busy celebrating !

Posted in ,

Grace


The morning air smelled as fresh as it had ever been. The dark grey clouds hung over the hills in the distance. The trees swayed merrily in the gentle cool breeze as if heralding another beautiful day. A day to soak in the divine water showered by the monsoon clouds and perhaps a few hours of nice tepid sunlight in between. How beautiful and happy the flora seemed. Probably because they just exist to serve , irrespective of whether it is a Monday or a weekend. 

But for humans like us, well Mondays are just as they have always and probably will always be. As the clock ticked away the ambience grew more chaotic. The morning serenity gave way to the horn , bang , din of early morning traffic. The railway station loomed ominously as i fumbled some change from my pockets, obviously after having my morning haggle with the Autowallah who inadvertently had a rigged meter. 

Sneaking across the road, dodging the red coloured jittery bus while trying to locate the IRCTC sms,  i somehow (as always) managed to make my way to the train. Oh, and what a dreadful sight it was. Standing there in all its filthy glory , while most of the passengers , half asleep and in a grumbling mood , did their zombie walk to accept the hours of discomfort that awaited them inside the train. 

But all of a sudden, the air become pleasant again like the meadows of Switzerland were present here radiating the supremely pleasant fragrances of spring mountain flowers. The dampness of the compartment gave way to that sunny feeling reminding of those yesteryears spent sprawling on the green football pitch. 

The train started moving, making the outside world a blur of florescent green. The beauty of Monsoons! The valley was shrouded in mist but one could hear the distant faint trickle of numerous waterfalls. But somehow, for a moment, this beauty seemed pale against the one sitting somewhere in the compartment. 

Her dark brown hair fell deftly over her shoulders , as if trying to escape the eyes of the beholder. The half rimmed spectacles , probably bought during her college days , clung on her nose as if by providence. Her ivory complexion stood out in all its radiance and glory. But those eyes. What  was it about those eyes. Eyes matching the colour of her hair or maybe not . Is it even possible to describe something sp delicate and precious ? They seems lost and maybe sad. 

And what a revelation that was. A wave of ambivalence furrowed through my veins as i felt acute pangs of , don’t know what. Not sadness. Anger , maybe. How can she , a model of beauty and purity be so poignant. Maybe it was the lesson that the supreme lord wanted , us , mere mortals to learn. That howsoever perfect we may feel we are , there is always that one thing that puts us from the top of our personal towers of Babal into the bowels of earth.
The thoughts, a whirlpool of thoughts, were rustling through my whole being when the dam which was probably holding on for a while broke. 

But what came through the Dam were not tears.


She was weeping grace, beauty and joy !   

Existence



What is that one thing that drives a person? Drives one to madness! An entity that becomes the reason , means and end to one’s existence. At this point, maybe, a person can become more than what he is. By the dint of his work, focus, will he can achieve a state of perfection which transcends the concept of being human. In numerous ways God or the idea of God can be summarised as someone who is beyond this world or one who has achieved perfection to such an extent that there is nothing more to be done , no knowledge to be gained and nothing to be achieved.

At that temporal instance , one cases to just exist as a biological unit meant to be a very small cog in the perpetual process of evolution and survival of the gene pool and becomes a creator. A creator who refuses to just exist but become the Übermensch. But what would it take to break away and out of the shackles of one’s current state of being which has been guided over years of promises , teaching and rules. How does one get out of that state of subjugation. Moreover , how does a person annihilate that mental barrier , that sense of security and comfort.

To stop existing and begin creating. Creating a reality which he wills and not one that was thrust upon him !!!

Birds...Trees...Life


Couple of crows sat on the brown branch of a tree full of cheerful green leaves reflecting the mellow morning sun. The sounds flowing across the air was an amalgamation of bird talk and cool breeze rustling the leaves as if testing the beauty that those soft leaves flaunted elegantly. The sun shone somewhere in the shadows, waiting for its hour to strike when it would shine in all its glory. The squirrels meandered about the trees, looking for something, restless, searching.

The crows were joined by a pigeon but they did not seem to mind. Soon they were to fly away , possibly purposefully or just due to their innate restlessness. Do birds really have a purpose? Maybe, it is not their burden to decipher. They just are, doing what they are programmed to do, thinking little, acting for action’s sake and living. Is there a lesson there for us, the only ones granted the exceptional and rare ability to think about things like purpose, become sad about the past and worry about the future? But that is not the point. 

The point here is that there are birds and trees and sunlight and breeze and squirrels and music. There is Life and it is beautiful. 

Peace


“Who the hell do you think you are? I earn more than you and have a far better work profile”
“Yes, I know. That’s why you fail to be a good mother since all you are interested in is money and career and position and power “
“Yes, I do. So, what. And who are you to pass judgment on me about how good a mother I am. You are never home in any case. It is me who has to take care of everything” “Especially your good for nothing family who just sit there, eat, watch their stupid shows and keep pouring venom from their throats every minute on me”
“Don’t you get them into this”
“Oh yes I will. I so will.” “They are family, everything and I am nothing to you, huh” “Just an overqualified and over smart house maid”
“You are going mad each day. Just stop this nonsense. Don’t create a scene here”
“There is no one here to listen to all this. Since everyone is at home. Busy being happy” “Not dragging their dead drunk husband out of the club who has just spent a fortune on senseless drinks and food”
“Just shut up and get in the car”
“Ha, ha, ha. Just look at you. So weak. Can’t even drive himself home”
“Stop speaking or I will hit you”
“Yeah, won’t be the first time. Will it? “

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Why are these well dressed people shouting and fighting? They have everything. Even that nice big black car with a music system. And look at me. I have nothing. Sleeping for the zillionth time on the porch of this house. That too in this cold Delhi winter night with nothing but this withering piece of cloth which can hardly pass for a blanket. I have not eaten a proper meal in 2 days. The last one was when that kind lady gave me the leftover food. The surface is hard. It is colder than usual today. Oh God. I might even die tonight due to the cold.

But I do remember what my father told me before I left home to seek employment. I have peace. I have no worries. I don’t own anything so I don’t fear losing anything. I have never done a bad thing in my life. Have refrained from alcohol and smoking. I send whatever money I can every month home and my mother is happy because of me. I don’t worry about the future and have nothing to keep me awake at night about my past. Sure the ground is hard and cold. I will never get to eat in those restaurants, shop in the shiny buildings, play with small devices in my hand, and drive a shiny car. I might not even ever get to experience love or get married. Most probably I will die young.

But till that time. My mind is blank. I am happy. I have PEACE. J


Untitled

It glittered for a while, and then as if afraid of the piercing eyes gazing intently at it for what seemed like eternity, welcomed the cover of his friend, lover, nemesis. The pupils narrowed in resignation for they had no power over the object that they sought. Mere spectators.
But as ingrained in his master’s human spirit, the eyes did not give up. They started the arduous task of scanning the night sky. Looking for that small flicker. Hope? Or just another illusion that they saw every second. The curse of the eyes. They saw everything .
The star kept glittering, as ardently, as it always has been. For centuries. And for centuries it will . Wondering about its purpose . But no one to tell what it was. An existence serving some unknown master and some grand plan. Important no doubt , or so he thought.
His nemesis , the cloud, smirked at her achievement. Subduing out yet another of the shining objects it hated. She knew her purpose , or thought she knew. Her short existence aimed at eventually annihilating herself for the sake of those eyes which were always looking up at her. She did wonder , why should I? But it was not in her power
. The eyes finally found another dazzling light in the sky. Its potency managing to cut through those menacing clouds. It did what it was supposed to do. His master smiled , the eyes smiled. One more reason I gave for my master’s smile. Smile which was becoming rare. But yet, the hope remained...

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