Friday, January 23, 2015

About Words, Writing, and Writing Everyday

'Words'  I realise, are the big paradox of my life.  They are one of my greatest strengths and they are also one of my biggest weaknesses.  

Strength because I am able to string a few words together (in English) and make good prose or even better poetry.  I believe that the goodness comes out of my pursuit of writing the truth as I see it. I want my writing to reflect truth.  This has been such a strength that great writing achievements had been expected of me.  However as it happens with many of us sometimes or some of us many times over, an ability not practiced is no ability at all. These days there are flashes of that inherent skill now and then, and a very occasional glimpse of brilliance.  

This ability with words has also wrought disaster, because I have been so careless and thoughtless with the way I have let them loose on all and sundry.  I have hurt people, wrecked relationships and made a battlefield of the world with my words.  In not feeding my strength, I have been letting the weakness grow to gargantuan proportions.  I have allowed the weakness to prevail over and over again, fed and nourished it while my strength languished like an orphan.  

image from www.writebynight.com
Now that I have seen it, I need to feed and nourish the strength; allow it to grow so huge that there is no space for the weakness.  One can strengthen a muscle first and primarily, by exercising it. All else can only be supplementary.  I can nourish my writing essentially by writing, writing every day, and writing all the time.  I will have to write so much that I am able to understand the nuances and intricacies of words, their relationships, spaces and processes so well, that there is no possibility of making a mistake with a word. Or the very least possibility.  

I will have to practice writing every day. I want to do so. I also want to write only the truth.  For writing the truth, my words have got to come from my own experience.  I feel that they have to be so authentic that the examination of truth begins from the question of why I want to write.  However, that line of inquiry is not in the scope of this piece and can be safely set aside for another.  Coming back to writing the truth, and hence writing from experience, I see that most of the time, words fall short of the experience.  They can never communicate the original experience 'accurately' (except perhaps factual information, though I question even this), because when another is reading the words, that becomes his or her subjective process of meaning making from what is being read.  A reader would bring her experience into the process, and lend to it her uniqueness. That which makes you, you and me, me.  And hence now, there are two truths, your truth and my truth.  And my truth can also change over time?  I am remembering Mahatma Gandhi's 'Note to the Reader' in his famous book, Hind Swaraj.  He says in his note that since he is learning all the time and changing, his words about the same topic could change in subsequent writings and hence the reader must always take the latter. This means that truth also is relational. However, that there's got be something that is constant is my gut feeling.  For me now, at the very least, one constant will be that my words not inflict violence on anyone.  Which means any and all truth for me has got to go through the filter of not-being-violent (ahimsa) before it is presented.  

I wondered whether I was getting carried away with this struggle between what is constant and what is relational, and hence distracting myself from writing yet another time. And decided to write about the process.  And my pursuit of writing the truth will include this awareness that truth also is a process. It is relational, and yet there are constants.  The pursuit can only be enhanced by looking at this play of constant and relational aspects of truth given any theme.  And writing about it.  

Friday, December 26, 2014

Love

"Sorry" "sorry", a hundred times, 
With tears in her eyes.
And then again,
The same 'mistake',
For the 101th time.

Something gave this time.
What makes a mistake, a mistake? 
There's much happening within,
Before it 'happens' without.
As it happens without.

Something gave this time.
Contrition has been accepted
For a thousand times & more;
With no expectation of 'reform',
At the end of it.

A Mother's love wells up,
To hug spontaneously, tightly.
The question is, 
Could it simply be/become Love?


Thursday, August 28, 2014

Ponni


My farewell to you, Ponni. Just now, the house is filled with emptiness without you in it; and with anguish that you are gone so soon, so young.  But all this will pass. What will remain are your memories. In how many ways will I remember you.... 


- I will remember your melting eyes filled with absolute, unconditional love, that gave, and gave, expecting nothing in return. Can I love like that? 
- How did you manage to look hesitant and yet confident at the same time, when you thrust your enquiring face into mine?
- where did you learn to trust like that? every moment of my life will be a learning, to trust like you did. 
- You cut through the wind like a cheetah, you were poetry in motion. I want to run, and be one with the wind and earth, like you did. 
- With what speed and unerring accuracy you went for the throat when you hunted, in just one swoop. I will just keep trying, keep practicing, for that singleminded attention and clarity of intent. 
- When you gotta play, you gotta play. Kick up a mud storm, topple the water bowl, knock down a couple of other things, and put your all into play. 
- I am in awe of your spirit. with what spirit you battled pain, still reached for that ball to play, still went on red alert with your hairs on end when you spotted danger, still tried to stand up and go out to take a piss, when you were labouring hard for breath and must have been suffering...
- I have not seen Anything as beautiful as you when you were giving birth to your babies, and took care of them, and taught them to play, to hunt, to suckle, to eat, to survive... I keep discovering the mother in me, looking at you
- - how I laugh when I think of people getting scared of your largeness; little did they know of how gentle you were... 
- I am remembering so many little and big quirky and unique things that made you, you, that I could get mad at, be irritated about, feel moved and all squishy inside, want to hug you tight, or just keep out of your sight, and simply love you through it all. And realising that I am unique and quirky in so many ways and you loved all of me. 

Thank you for sharing you with me. And thank you for waiting for us to be by your side to breathe your last. I will miss you immensely. 

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Right Action

I have been grappling with a personal situation for some time now, and trying to see what is my conflict in the situation. In time, I saw that one of my central questions is, "What is 'The Right Action'?" and some part of the conflict is around this question. This seemed like a non-starter question, or not a question at all, the way I was looking at it. We are educated and conditioned to look at everything ideally, isolated, and without supporting contexts. So, for me a shiny "The Right Action" has been standing out, with bollywood sound effects in the background. But how can there be any action without a context? and its variables? Dont we all live and think and act within one context or another or more? Then, can there be one single right action? All of a sudden I feel like I know why I hated maths in school. The way we were taught maths in school was absolute. I hated its absoluteness - 2 + 2 = 4. There could be only one right answer to this. I just abhorred this only-one-answer phenomenon. Of course, today I can appreciate intellectually that an Indian approach is different. For instance, how we measure. The joy when I discovered this was immense, but it has remained intellectual. I realised when I was looking at the current situation that I am looking for my one right solution that fits all, that makes everyone happy, that is good for all and so on. 2 + 2 = 4, always. Something gave way, then. 

Could there by many possible actions, given a certain context and unchanging and variable factors? Each action with its set of consequences and chain of reaction. Can there be a 'right' or a 'wrong' about any action? But, take the case of my present situation, I have certain values that I want to adhere to, certain desires and needs that are mine and want to be satisfied, certain requirements of the overall situation, and values of others in this space, their needs, desires and so on. And I find that these are contrary to each other. When there is a conflict of this kind, the question of what is the right thing to do does come in for me. What is this 'right' then? 'Right' for whom and what? I want my actions to adhere to my values; this is 'right'. But this seems to be contrary to my desires at this point. So I am then stepping back and examining my values, where do they come from, how did they get built. I am examining my desires, what are their sources. Then, I want the 'other' to be happy with my action and accept it. This seems to be also in the realm of 'right'. But then again, stepping back, this is an expectation, not reality. So I am examining this expectation then. There is just SO MUCH that is already packed into that one word, 'right' which I am trying to unpack, unravel. But then, this examination is a lifetime process, and what happens now when the building is on fire? I cant go away and learn fire-fighting and then come back. I have to learn fire-fighting on the job, by doing it. A friend said this morning that I am writing my own bhagavad gita, which seems just what is happening. 

It is on the battlefield that Arjuna stops to examine his conflicts. However, at the point of battle, I cant say, "Hey, let me sit in a corner and study the bhagavad gita and get '10 ways to combat situation A' " (Well, maybe I can, and maybe then the battle will pass me by?!) But I want to fight this battle. Because just as for Arjuna, all battles are eventually inside me, right? And I may run away today, but will then come again and again to this point. So, I need to fight this today. From this perspective, reading some inspirational quotes or even the Yamas and niyamas, or Maitri karuna... seem to get converted to mere tools or equipment that I dont know how to use, if I say let me read them now and get some pointers, or someone directs me to them. It feels at the moment like I can only be fully present and aware and alive to this situation, to the conflicts herein, and examine and watch and respond from this visceral part of me. And perhaps if some swadhyaya has been happening in normal (whatever that means. Maybe less turbulent) times, then some bhavana of maitri karuna... may come alive. Although even saying this seems like an expectation, a gentle injunction and I have come to experience and see that no amount of spiritual training from the outside can make me really ready for this inner battle. 

And so, right action. At this point I want to replace this dense and packed word, 'right' with 'dharmic'. Dharmic action. Another dense word? The funny thing is that dharma is sometimes defined as "doing the right thing"!*@&!*!!  But if I see the sanskrit, dharati iti dharma, that which supports, nurtures, restores, revives, make alive.... So this seems like a basic and simple enough criterion for action, which, importantly for me, is dynamic, continuously changing, and creational. Something that can be mine. Something that is me. Just as the flower has her dharma, that tree has his dharma, you have yours, and I have mine. Wow! But this means that I will need to examine and discover my dharmic action for every moment. Because every moment is new, different from the previous one. And yet, it is pregnant with every moment that came before it, isnt it? Because all the moments before has led to this moment. And it has in it every moment that is going to come, because it is leading there. And I can really only be in this moment, which is great because just this moment is all of time. And it is also pregnant with its context, its changing and eternal factors, its relationships, emotions and the whole gamut of human experience, and I am a part of that. Which means, to live, I am born new every moment. And I have to give birth to my dharmic action that moment. This is my hope, and my challenge.      

Friday, March 14, 2014

Using the public transport

It makes great sense these days to use public transport or car pool for purposes of conserving energy. We see this being promoted heavily all around us. However, I rediscovered using the public transport for several other personal reasons that for the moment beat everything else. But of course, for these uses to surface, you must put away your ipod, and any other mobile digital devices, into the deep recesses of your hand bag or pant pocket. And decide not to indulge them until you get down from the bus.  Now for some fun! 

Uses
#1 Travelling in that bus through the traffic-ridden roads of Chennai, I realised that all my tasks will have to wait. No matter how many tasks I have lined up for the day, I cannot move from my position of sitting or standing. The only task is to stand or sit comfortably. One is forced to stay with the only task that is possible in that bus then - this is great practice for staying in this moment, and staying with the people who are with one at that moment.  If it is traffic time and the bus is crowded, you can be sure that flash points are lower, irritation levels are higher and everyone just wants to get home. Or office. So for self to stay comfortable, the others around will also have to be comfortable to some extent. For instance, people may like orange marmalade to be spread out, but not you and your bags on their laps and into their shoulders. Your neighbour may not enjoy your hair flying into their face and nose, unless of course you are his or her lover which puts hair and orange marmalade in a completely different realm altogether. 

#2 Deciding that there is no better task than leaning on the pole comfortably and just being, was the best thing I could have done for my breath. It is most fashionable these days to enroll for hatha yoga or a weight reduction yoga programme or any of the numerous yoga courses advertised. For those who don't have time because they have to leave home by 7 a.m. and travel in public transport in order to reach their work place by 9, the bus is the best bet to practice some praanayama. Close your eyes, and watch your breath. Just be with it, as you take in air, and as you breathe out. You will feel your breath deepening and lengthening. Continue breathing in and out. A sudden waft of typical Chennai may assault your inhalation as the garbage lorry hurtles by; watch the stink as it hits you and then as it fades away. Similarly, watch that puff of exhaust fumes, the fragrance of jasmine flowers, sweat or any of the miscellaneous smells of travelling chennai as they pass by. They will pass, your breath will stay. Of course, with all this deep breathing, you may fall asleep. Which takes us to the next use. 

#3 Ah, blissful sleep! What one wouldn't give for those forty winks after which one is refreshed and awakened! If you've been burning the midnight oil studying, or are stressed at work, and / or going to write an exam that morning, or haven't managed to get requisite sleep for some reason or another, this is the best time to fill up your sleep quota. In fact, it is highly recommended if you are going to write an exam, nothing that you study at this point will really matter - what will matter is how clear headed you are when you sit in the exam hall, and how gathered your faculties are. And if you have been poring over your books through the night, then sleep you must. Nothing like the motion of the bus to put one to sleep. Surrender your all to the bus driver, who's ishvara for the moment, and become lolly and noddy. The neighbour may understand this phenomenon if he or she is a regular in buses, and forgive you your trespass. Else, she may herself be noddy to your lolly. Enjoy! 

#4 I nodded off a bit in the middle of my breath-watching, and got up rejuvenated in less than 15 minutes. Being just where I was, completely aware of my breath, relaxed yet alert of everything around me, my attention automatically drew into me, and who and what I am at that point - I can hear the conversation of the two teenage girls in the seat in front of mine, and my mind is responding in a certain way. Watching my response, what am I feeling then? What am I thinking? Watching the feeling, watching the thought. Just watching, the origin of that thought suddenly flashed in, and its associated experience (our minds have thoughts that are actually our opinions, or assumptions or labels and stereotypes and so on which are actually conditioned by our life's experiences and resulting emotions, fears etc. Hence much of the time, our thoughts about others are actually everything to do with us, rather than about them). I hereby declare that you could make the bus ride one of the best spaces in which to watch the patterns of your life, the patterns in your mind and become aware of your self deeply. Which will obviously have its impact on your awareness of others. 

#5 I stayed with the insight that emerged, and its consequent excitement, watched the excitement and its origin (but of course!). When I looked around at that point, the bus was crowded with ideas. There were numerous bundles of experiences-thoughts-responses in many shapes and sizes, clothed outwardly in different colours and cuts, and in constant action / motion - talking to each other, exclaiming, checking their phones every 2 minutes, smiling, shifting from one leg to another, tching, adjusting their pallu or duppatta, looking out and waiting for their stop to get off, whispering and giggling, whistling, looking into the neighbour's mobile phone, screaming at someone to move, daydreaming, nodding off(!), sightseeing out of the window, catching my eye... adding more experience-thought-response on to the basic bundle reinforcing patterns, even as I saw. The bus is an artist's idea-heaven, artist in the broadest sense possible. Just look on, without forgetting to look at your looking (that is, being aware of any judgments, any thoughts that you may have), to get fresh ideas on just about anything under the sun and beyond! 

Which brings me back full circle to simply staying here and now, with the people and experiences of this moment. I got off the bus to a whole new world, all so fresh and shiny that I could almost see dew drops glistening everywhere. And it hadn't even rained! What just a ride in your local bus can do. 

Sunday, October 27, 2013

An Account of a Romantic Drive

Every moment holds romance; whether one is alive to it or not is the question. This morning I lived through yet another definition and experience of romance.

Living in and for this moment has been high up there in the last few days - one of those up phases of life which one tries best to keep being in!  Waking at 4:30 a.m. (before the alarm), having a great cup of coffee with one’s mother and daughter for company, and getting a convenient share cab to go from Tiruvanmiyur to Pondy when its not yet dawn, all keep up with the spirit. I get into the front seat of the cab, settle the daughter on my lap and we take off.

Initially I fuss around the little one knowing that she will fall asleep soon enough, moving one of her legs so that it doesn’t disturb the gears, tucking my dupatta tight over her ears, responding with a reassuring murmur to her faint protest, and shifting her weight a little bit to get both of us comfortable for the drive. I was totally absorbed in this when one of the men from the back seat called out that I roll up the windows since it would get chilly for her, to which suggestion I smiled and replied that she wouldn’t sleep at all if the windows were closed and AC on.

The man’s voice was the first sound that I heard after I got into the car. Now other sounds registered gradually. The whoosh of the wind, the sound of the car, 80s and 90s Tamil cinema music (most public transport and travels drivers on this route seem to prefer this, I wonder why now; Valaiosai… vaan megham…), the rising and falling drone of the two men conversing in the back seat dwindling very slowly, occasional drowsy voices of either of the two children with them, the whiz of vehicles going in the opposite direction, the rare blast of a horn that starts faint, builds to a scream and then fades or cuts off abruptly – all in the flash of a second on such roads (the ECR)… I became aware of all of them and yet it was not a cacophony! It may be a bit much to call it orchestra, however let me be content saying that they were all in harmony.

I then felt my daughter’s weight on me – she had been growing heavy with sleep.  At the moment that I felt her weight, I felt everything else that I could feel on my skin and physical sensations as well as taste and smell, all in a flash. The pressure of my left ankle over the other where they were crossed, the near stillness of my breath, the car seat under me and on my back, her warmth seeping through her clothes to my right palm which was on her back, the friction and scratching sensation in the crook of my left elbow which was touching something coarse on her (I think there were some threads and self design on her pants), my chilled left ear and cheek since the wind was hitting me on that side, the increasing stress in my knees from keeping them bent in the same position, the faint taste of coffee lingering in my mouth and an increasing feeling of thirst, feet going to sleep, and the smells wafting around - the faintly musty car seat, coconut hair oil, sandalwood (soap, I am now guessing), the smell of morning (there definitely is a smell to morning, sort of tangy), and other smells from outside that we passed from time to time.

 I saw the long straight road ahead beautifully dark first, lightening slowly, and turned to see the sun peeping out on my left. I felt my eyes drinking in the road and sun and everything that it was turning golden. My personal orchestra was keeping up with me as well, effortlessly.

It was a space where every sense was alive to all that was hitting that sense, and yet it was not too much to handle; not one of them pulled that sense away from this space. That is, no one was getting carried away by anything. I realised that something similar was happening in my thoughts and mental sensations as well. For instance, I turned and looked at the driver when his mobile phone rang and he picked it up. All he did was murmur that he is coming back with passengers and that he will talk later. But I picked up on his satisfaction that he had gotten passengers and he would be getting some extra income. I also noticed that he was alert and not sleepy although he had driven the night before as well to drop off people at the airport. We had with us a young and really good driver (he drove smoothly without sudden brakes and jerks and it never felt once like he was speeding, but we were achieving quite a bit of road very quickly). Also because it was early morning before traffic hours, and a Sunday.  


However, noticing these didn’t take me away from that being-alive space.  There were not that many thoughts that occurred, but when a thought did come, it came into that space, and then fell away as we drove on. I simply watched the thought rise and fall.  I was conscious of every sense and sensation, yet not getting lost in or strayed by any one. At some point the thought came that it all felt like I was making love to myself. Don’t ask me what that means really, that is just what I felt or thought. I did not think further about it or analyse.  I was simply, gloriously alive. The two-hour drive was pure romance, and I was aware of a feeling of gratitude and benevolence towards the driver and my co-passengers. 

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

A continued soliloquy on Living in the Present (I) - Accidents


The thought and phenomenon of living in the here and now is something that I have had a love-hate relationship with for a very long time now. Love, in moments like this when the awareness and practice of here and now is strong, and hate, when it pops up as a reminder after I had forgotten to live in the present for some length of time. Hate perhaps is an extreme word. Intense conflict and struggle, maybe. Consequently, I tend to draw threads from every conversation and situation to the idea of living in this moment. In my mind of course, for the most part. This series of posts about living in the present will share some of these rambling thoughts and insights.

I realised some time back that I am a menace to myself and the rider when I travel pillion on a two-wheeler. Perhaps because of the number of road accidents that I have directly and indirectly been affected by, I am always anticipating an accident and sitting on edge, literally and figuratively. This means that every time we hit a ditch, or I spot a speeding vehicle coming in the opposite direction, which is every other second, I dig into the shoulders of the person in front of me. I let out involuntary yelps at every sudden twist, turn, brake, loud honk, bike whizzing by too close for my comfort, narrow path that we may have to squeeze through, child or pup darting out, and anything else that deviates from a completely smooth, uneventful and boring ride. The best reaction (or worst, depending on how one looks at it) is the sharp and swift intake of breath that happens when it even remotely looks like we are going to hit another vehicle. There are a couple of things to be considered here. One, the fact that it looks like we may hit another vehicle is entirely subjective. Can a fact be subjective? Subjective fact. It sounds like an oxymoron. The other point is that the swift intake of breath just happens; it is entirely involuntary according to me. However, a long time front rider and sufferer begs to differ. How can a reaction just happen when it packs a wallop of accusation, indignation, fear and the worst kind of predictions all rolled into one?  And so an average ride may go yelp, dig, yelp, dig, hiss of breath, dig, yelp, mutter, complain, dig, yelp, hiss, dig…. And I of course always defended myself. I saw no problem in this and always blamed the road, road rage and irresponsible driving.

In one of my stronger and lucid moments, it struck me that I am making a cake of myself. What does it mean to be traveling sitting on edge like I do? So every time I yelp or dig, I am actually living in the past experience of an accident that I have been through or have seen. Every time I hiss or mutter, I am living in the future with a few broken ribs perhaps or worse. Which means that every moment on that ride is a moment in vain, in death actually. I am either living in the past or the future, and not in the here and now. What an irony. An irony because this actually leaves me completely vulnerable even if an accident were to happen at that moment because my mind is not present in it. What a whammy!

The sad truth is that the sum total of our experiences and habits are so strong that such an insight does not mean immediate transformation. It could mean that for some of course, but not for this struggling soul. However, the yelps have reduced considerably, the digs and mutters have been completely eschewed from the bike rides and every hiss of breath is mentally converted to a mantra. There is hope! 

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Learning from Children - Free to Love


Initially this post was to be titled 'Learning from / with children'. Then I realised that there are some things that we don’t learn with them, we necessarily learn from children, by simply watching them be, and engage with the world.


As adults many of us are often embarrassed by explicit announcements or gestures of love. And yes, that's a thoughtful statement; I am not saying it casually. The embarrassment would of course be at different levels of intensity, felt and manifested differently with different people in different situations. For instance, some of us may feel comfortable showing love to our partner, but not so with relatives. Some of us feel awkward if the expression goes beyond a cursory side-of-the-body hug. In fact, I find that many of us feel strange staying and feeling a hug completely.

The corollary to this is acknowledging love, a move of love.  We fare worse in this aspect. While I am quick to list all the wrong actions of the other, prompt with all the hurts inflicted on me by A or B, I am much slower to recognise an expression of love by the same A or B. Love is expressed in many ways, the beginning of which is physical expression like a loving look or hug. We miss most of the subtler actions of love, of the people around us. For instance, I recall now how my grandmother always served food with so much love. That is, she was very aware of how each one of us liked to eat, what went in first, what vegetables I like with certain other items on the menu, which were the side dishes preferred by my sister and on and on like this. And she served us according to our tastes, even though as children we were taught to eat everything put on the plate without a fuss. She did this for everyone but never once asked anyone about their preferences or tastes. She just observed everyone and served them. But for all this, there was no outward show of love. In my early teens then, I missed this for her outward irritability and the fact that we seemed to have nothing in common. I recollected and realised much much later how love worked through her.

I am remembering her again now, with some regret (because I never did show much warmth to her when she was alive), as I watch my daughter. There is nothing hidden in her love or its expression. And I am amazed again and again at the wisdom and simplicity she demonstrates even in her acknowledgement of it. I figure it is not so strange that the first time I thought of my grandmother and of our relationship in some depth, was when I was babysitting a 4-year old during my college days. Parmeet taught me a lot about myself, about conflicts and relationships and so much more, in the 3 years that I was with him, a few hours every day of the week.

Now it is Kaivalya, my daughter who is teaching me how effortlessly I can understand and acknowledge love . She so quickly drops her irritation or anger with something, if I just give her a beseeching look and ask for a "tight-a huggy". It is almost ruthless how she forgets the past second's hostility in this moment's love. And she goes on to give a tight hug and a bonus kiss with her slate clean. No baggage there. How do children do that? For me the joy is in how she acknowledges me. All I have to do is give her a loving look (sometimes I am not aware of it myself). If she happens to catch my look, she smiles immediately and says "I-o-dee" (which means 'I love you' in her language).  I was feeding her once and a little bit of the porridge oozed out onto the side of her mouth. Her tongue couldn’t reach it. I had been busy with taking the next spoonful, arranging her bib or something like that, that she had been at it for a while when at last I noticed her trying to reach it. I said that I'm so sorry I didn’t see, and wiped it clean. She gave a grin of relief and then insisted that she give me a hug and "i-o-dee" before we proceed with the more mundane process of eating.  How does she know when I am upset or hurt about something? She is not even two years yet.  She then does things which are very clearly aimed at bringing me out of my blues. Which of course they do. She is so forgiving about the mistakes I make in my engagement with her, she puts me to shame about all the resentments I carry. These resentments are a part of the huge wall I have built around myself that stops me from an open expression of love. She clearly has no inhibitions in showing love, in casual and deep ways. One morning I was lazy and didn’t respond to her mindfully. She indicated to me in no uncertain terms that I was behaving shabbily and she would rather be with someone who would no doubt be decent with her: "amma vendaam, appa venum" (don’t want mom, want dad). Wasn’t I quick in mending my ways! However she was not waiting to see me mend my ways. She had moved on to something that had her completely enthralled and she turned to me demanding that I see it. I can just go on describing numerous such ways in which she expresses and acknowledges love. But what sort of a memory is this, that forgets emotional gymnastics and carries no such luggage, but soaks and absorbs so much learning? How is it programmed to remember in minute detail , many things about the world and itself and yet forget some other particular aspects? What freedom. Children are so free to love, so wholly, because of the way their memory functions.

We are also meant to love in such freedom, aren't we? We also undoubtedly loved this way when we were children. We collect so much grime along the way and fail to see clearly. I am constantly learning how she does it. Funnily enough, I keep recollecting practices and suggestions that the greatest masters have prescribed for such a love when I see my daughter's behaviour (in general, children). No jokes! Pratipaksha Bhavana is something that the Yoga Sutra and the Bhagavad Gita prescribe - replacing one thought with an opposite or another thought / action / behaviour. The descriptions are typically about cultivating and understanding opposite perspectives, countering destructive thoughts with thoughts of the opposite nature, becoming the other etc. I see her doing just this much of the time. If I give a stern look, she counters it with a wicked smile. If she just has to have a certain type of food that she doesn’t like, with every mouthful she utters a protesting cry, and then she immediately changes it by finding something else interesting to look at, or take refuge in holding me or talking to me. And so, myriad ways. Another important sutra talks of cultivating maitri (congeniality, friendliness), karuna (empathy, helpfulness), mudita (cheerfulness) and upeksha (imperturbability - towards failures, people who cant be changed and so on).  I simply watch her flabbergasted, while she practices one or more of these traits in different contexts and situations.

An all important principle underlying all others I feel is how children are able to live in the here and now. This is what enables them to love with such abandon and freedom. Because of being forever in this moment, they walk light. Nothing burdens them. They have no walls around them - of assumptions and conditionings and stereotypes and other barriers. They are free to love. They are free.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Reverence, the National Anthem and Children


Reverence is a feeling of deep respect or admiration. What happens when we revere? The way we look at the object of reverence is very different from the way we look at something not revered (so much?).  We take a moment or moments longer to pause, look and experience pleasure maybe. We do not pass judgments so easily. We are quick to discover positive aspects rather than wear the critical hat right away. Acceptance and a sense of oneness are already in place. What happens is that we buy time for 'right understanding'.

The Rev. Samdhong Rinpoche once said in an interactive session that even to prove that something (he was talking of Gandhi) is not relevant, you have to understand deeply. And that even for rejection there must be a right understanding; that is one's freedom and responsibility.

How can we embark on such a path of understanding if we do not have reverence? A reverence  that is not necessarily directed at an object. The reverence which is an emotion and attitude underlying all thought and action. If one has an inherent quality of reverence, then acceptance and love lay the road for a Buddhist understanding to begin its journey.  This kind of right understanding is not an object or a solid conclusion, opaque to the changes all around. It is a fluid and changing journey, a process. Haste, personal agendas, rigid stands and personalities dissolve by the very nature of this journey. 

We are taught not to have such reverence today. Everything around us directs us either to irreverence or a lower form of reverence at the level of submission to power and authority. We were at a cinema theatre the other day and amongst the advertisements before the movie, the screen gave the audience a sudden instruction: "Please stand up for the National Anthem." A short movie clip followed with different scenes of India, not very different from Mile Sur Mera Tumhara or Vande Mataram. The background music was of course the National Anthem. If I recall right, it was a Bharat Bala production. All of us (I think) stood. I will bypass all the discussions that can ensue around the theme of national anthem and patriotism, and only look at the Anthem as a symbol of reverence. As a society we are moving away from a culture of reverence and continue to do so inexorably. I wonder how many of us would have stood if not for that piece of instruction. Standing up is a gesture of reverence and of course there are many among us who may roll our eyes, or feel "So what? Respect is in the mind, or heart or the pit of the stomach or wherever." The irony is that more and more people who are 'outsiders' to this culture, seem to think highly of this ability to be one with people and situations and phenomena, and begin from that platform of acceptance. The irony goes further - our education and conditioning today is to remove all trace of such inherent reverence, and then relearn it from some American or European Guru twisted and tweaked beyond recognition and even original meaning, and then coated with new jargon. (No offense to American and European individuals, I only state this as a process).

Children are taught to question everything to death and scientify whatever remains. We are negating all symbols of reverence on this battlefield. Such symbols taught us as children to revere first, make a habit of it and imbibe it as a culture, before we gradually learnt its value and meaning. The take off of course is that as children many aspects of culture including social behaviour and compassion, physical discipline and so on are learned this way.  Such aspects, like reverence, cannot be imbibed by talking and discussing about them.  Children in a certain phase can only learn by doing. How can we do reverence? This is of course only if we decide that reverence is a part of 'our' culture, whoever the 'us' may be. These symbols helped us in learning and teaching reverence by doing it first, and discussing it later, after the experience(s). Much later.

I feel it deep in my gut every time I hear the National Anthem, and it triggers in me thoughts and visuals of all that is India for me, its beauty and grandeur, and all its contradictions and conflicts, its people and mountains and children and oceans, and emotions of pleasure or anger or sadness or joy depending on the current issues that may already be running in my mind. Whatever it may be, my reverence does not allow my response to stop at the shallow surface, it has to be intense, it has to go deeper, there is no other way. And every time I respond in this manner, I learn to revere more and I learn to respond reverently to other things as well. I hope and pray that in time I learn to value everything as symbols of reverence. And I pray that today's children learn to revere,  learn that they have time to stop, and experience this fascinating journey

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Life's Like This Too



Today's post is more of a personal journal entry than anything else. I had to share it because, well, life is like this. A blessing, and a perfect moment.
The night was pure torture. I simply wanted to sink into the oblivion of sleep and kept doing so. But the mosquitoes insisted on dragging me out of my heaven. Not just me, but my daughter as well. My 19-months old daughter is a trooper but even she can take only so far. So there we were scratching and slapping and tossing and turning, well into the night. The both of us. And I was also trying to insist that she go to sleep by patting and singing to her. I felt sure that she thought I was a nutcase.

I had had one of those melancholy conversations just before going to bed wherein one feels sorry for oneself and all that is happening to her. I had managed to put myself in a true blue funk. Life was an angry-sad sigh. Lying awake helped the funk along. Despite the mosquitoes.

This morning I got up drearily from my half sleep, and by sheer force of habit and a dogged will that I not lose my discipline yet again, pushed myself out of bed to do my asana and pranayama practice. My daughter had settled into an uneasy sleep and I check on her from time to time. One hour, the breath worked its magic, and I was ready to face the day.

Then one of my best friends brings me coffee right where I am and we sit down to a good old chat. A pleasant early morning breeze, two woodpeckers knocking away at a coconut tree, and a cruising lone crow give us company as we chat about books and work and indulge in some light gossip. 

By and by, my daughter's morning voice calls me, "amma-a" and I get my morning hug and cuddle. She is content to look at the world from my arms for the moment. I am content to have her there. And there is the sweet promise of the morrow bringing her father back into town with it. "Appa vanthu", as my daughter said today in anticipation of being with him.

Despite all that we make of it, life persists in being a blessing. All it needs is this perfect moment.

Monday, August 27, 2012

From Leo Babauta - How to Become Open to Life

I really liked the following article and hence sharing it here:

How to Become Open to Life

Keep your hands open, and all the sands of the desert can pass through them. Close them, and all you can feel is a bit of grit.’ ~Taisen Deshimaru
Post written by Leo Babauta.
In many ways, I close myself off to life in all its fullness. I close myself off to others, as a form of self defense.
It happens to all of us. When you left yourself open in the early part of your life, you likely would get hurt from time to time. That pain taught us to close ourselves off in different ways: don’t let others in, use humor to keep some distance, hurt others before they hurt you, back away from anything new, and so on.
I close myself off, and miss the world. I miss out on life when I do that.
And so I’m learning to become more open. It’s a slow process, but in many small ways I’ve learned a lot, and am much more open now than I’ve ever been.
What does it mean to be open? It means that I accept more of life without judgment, and am happier no matter what comes. It means I judge others less, criticize less, accept others more, and learn more about their wonderful particularity.
It means more than ever before I am fully experiencing life.
I’ll share a little about becoming open to life, and to others, in hopes that you’ll find it useful.
1. Judge less, accept more. It seems natural to judge others, but in doing so we close ourselves the truth about these people. The same is true when we judge all the things around us — we close ourselves to finding out more. If judgment is automatic, we should get off autopilot and be more conscious. When we notice ourselves judging, instead, pause, seek to understand, and then to accept. And then to love, and to ease suffering. We should let go of our expectations of everyone around us, and of the world around us, and accept people as they are, and see them as they really are. Does accepting mean we never change things? No, it means we don’t get upset, irritated, frustrated when things aren’t as we’d like them to be, but instead seek to ease suffering.
2. Let go of goals. Many of you know I’ve been experimenting with having no goals, but not everyone understands why. One of the biggest reasons is that when we set a goal, we limit the range of possibilities, because we are setting a fixed destination (the goal). For example, if you say, “I want to run a marathon in six months”, then you will focus your actions on the things it takes to get to that destination (marathon training). But what if someone asks you to go surfing when you’re supposed to do marathon training? Or a new race opens up that you didn’t realize would be there when you set your marathon goal — and it’s even better? If you remain fixated on your goal, then you’ll close yourself off to the surfing, or the new race. This is only one example — it becomes much more subtle (and less clear) when the goals are work goals, because the possibilities are so much broader and wide-ranging. I’m not saying you should never set goals (though that’s a possibility), but you should develop the flexibility to let them go depending on the changing circumstances of each day, each moment.
3. Recognize defense mechanisms. The defense mechanisms we build up over the years in response to painful experiences are many and varied. More importantly, we don’t realize they’re there most of the time, so they are automatic and thus powerful and hard to beat. So learn to recognize them. When you find yourself not doing certain things, ask why. Maybe it’s because you’ve had a bad experience in the past. When you find yourself hurting people, ask why. When you find yourself shutting people or experiences out, ask why.
4. Be like the sky. Suzuki Roshi had a great metaphor … the sky has substance (gases, dust, water), but it is open to accepting everything. This “empty sky” allows other things, like plants, to grow into it. Our mind should be like the sky — accept things as they are, not discriminating. By saying, “this is beautiful, this is not beautiful”, we reject some things. Instead, we can be empty. We can treat everything like it’s part of our big family. We can treat anything as if they were our hands and feet.
5. Watch your fears. Fears are the basis for our automatic defense mechanisms, and similarly, they have power when we don’t know they’re working, when they lurk in the backs of our minds in the dark. Fears close us off to others, to the world, to experiences. Watch your fears, by learning to be quiet, by listening to yourself talk in that quiet. Pay attention to the fears, shine a light on them, and they begin to lose their power. Then you’ll be freed to be open to new things, to anything.
6. Let go of control. We constantly strive for control — of others, of ourselves, of the world around us. Goals, planning, measuring our work, expectations and more — we try to control things in so many ways. Of course, we know that control is an illusion. It’s also a way of shutting out most of the world: if we can control the world, and the future, we are fixing the course of events … and shutting out other possible courses. What happens if we let go of that control? The possibilities open up.
7. Open hands. Walk about in the world with open hands. It’s a simple practice. Your hands are open, and they are empty, ready to receive the world and all that comes, as it is. Your hands aren’t closed,
‘Walking along the edge of a sword,
Running along an ice ridge,
No steps, no ladders,
Jumping from the cliff with open hands.’
~Zen verse

Friday, August 24, 2012

Satsangam

Satsang is usually the word used when people gather to hear a talk by a Swami / Swamin (what do we call a woman swami, besides 'mother'?), or a regular meeting of people reading / discussing religious / spiritual texts and matters. The word 'satsangam' means 'associating / union with good / truth' (sat + sangam). 

- There are some people with whom each moment spent or thought about is a satsangam. 
- One could feel, think and act in ways such that, as much as possible, it is satsangam for others to be with one. 
- This means that one needs to practice, practice and practice some more! 
- Sage Patanjali spoke about how such a practice should be in his Yoga Sutra (स तु दीर्घकाल नैरन्तर्य सत्कारादरासेवितो द्रुढभूमि: ।  - Practice, (which is the constant and repeated effort to remain with the object of focus) sustained for a long uninterrupted duration with the right mental focus and with conviction and devotion carried out in a proper manner becomes firmly established. (Verse 1.14)
- When such a constant and unyielding practice towards an ideal of satsangam is carried out, then it could be called satyagraha(!) which means 'holding onto truth'

The above were some of the thoughts that have taken some space since yesterday because we had a sudden satsang, and what a satsang it was. Swami Tyagananda is someone who is near to the truth of matters and even a short duration spent in terms of physical time space with him becomes timeless. I still remember an earlier satsang several years back when something he had said just stuck to me, and I had written about it in the introduction to this blog

He spoke a few powerful words yesterday, despite being jet-lagged and tired. They just have to be recorded somewhere and so here they are: 

1) Since he met my 10-month old daughter, the conversation naturally turned to children and growing up. So he shared this anecdote: A child is asked how old he was and he said that he was 5 years old. He was then asked how old his parents were, and he said "5!" much to the questioner's chagrin. Well, "they weren't parents before I was born, so they are 5-year old parents". As much as the child is new, the parents are new too!! This was such a new way of looking at the world from a child's perspective. 

2) He spoke of a book called Zen mind, the beginner's mind while talking about what it is to look at everything freshly, like a child. How many of us can look at that road, or the car on it, and look at it as if we are looking at it for the first time? How many of us can look at the same thing every time for the first time? Imagine, for that child, that car is altogether a new thing, she is looking at it freshly. Can we do that? 

3) Looking deeply into things led him to pointing at the table and asking, "what is this?" So we look at him dumbly, perplexed, and thinking, "Table, but of course! What about it?" Then, "isnt table a name and a form given to God? Isnt anything in the world a name and a form to identify it? What if we remove the name and form, dont we get God? This is knowledge blinding us. When we first see the table, God stands before us, however after that nanosecond, our knowledge puts the name and form on it and blinds us." This was a double whammy. 

So, what if we were to imagine all our categories as names and forms, and lump them all into one category called God, or Eternal bliss, or Light, or Self or Highest Source or whatever it is that one wants to call it. And teach students based on this category. What would we get? 



Monday, March 5, 2012

Two Heroes - One Legacy



Two leaders;
two giants of knowledge, work and compassion - both my heroes and having such uncanny parallels in their lives and message. And what a legacy of work and ideas they have built for us, independently and yet to my mind very much together.

India has had the very great blessing of experiencing these two personalities within the last 150 years.  They were contemporaries in a sense – there was just a gap of six years between them.  One was a political leader, and the other a monk. Both were intense patriots, but manifested their patriotism in their lives and work very differently.  What is striking is that amongst all the obvious differences, are the similarities, not just in their life experiences and some of their core qualities, but also in the fundamental truths that they saw and spoke about, and many a time even in expression.

Swami Vivekananda, born 1863, acquired a modern education, almost studied law, went abroad to spread the message of India, came back to serve his Motherland a public figure.

Mahatma Gandhi, born 1869, acquired a modern education, studied law in England, practiced abroad, struggled for an Indian movement in a foreign land and came back to serve his Motherland a public figure.

There are many points of difference in the way each one's education was acquired and the process of each one's making.  But the purpose of this piece is not to dwell on these as much as to look at what each one of them having made men of themselves, saw as truth and spoke.

Their patriotism was not ordinary. It was a different quality of patriotism that understood the faults and weaknesses of the land, but looked beyond, to the strength.  Indeed, 'strength' – a growing from within was something both emphasised constantly. Both Swamiji and Gandhiji did a Bharath Parikrama before the beginning of their major work in India. The parikrama gave each of them the knowledge and authority to say that his land is of immense Ideal and strength.  Neither failed to connect the people and their practice, to their own reading and understanding of the scriptures and shastras.  Another meeting point was their thorough reading of their own traditional scriptures.  We know from their lives how well-read each of them was in their own tradition.  What’s more, both of them acquired knowledge not just of their own tradition, but also of other cultures and civilisations.  Both of them mastered the intricacies of alien cultures as well and won many admirers, friends, followers from other countries and cultures as much as from their own land. 

However, neither was merely a man of books alone.  They thrived and learnt from life, living and people.  Each came into direct contact with his land, her strengths, weaknesses, diversity, oneness during his tour on foot across India's length and breadth. 

It is a fascinating combination of opposing forces that they worked with, or perhaps – worked on that "thin edge of a sword"[1] where the extremes met on a middle path and were balanced.  Each never stopped dwelling and speaking at length, of and about Ideals.  They thought, meditated, lived and breathed idealism; which is what made Swamiji say that he preaches the message of the Upanishads, "strength, a growing from within"; and made Gandhiji declare in almost the same words that the ultimate goal for each man is to reach the strength within himself – 'swaraj' or self-mastery as he called it.  Nothing is higher than this potential.  Neither was ready to lower this ideal to every day circumstances, but each was also intensely practical and looked at the smallest details in routine daily life worked to bring quality into each moment and action. 

This way, their own lives served as examples for their followers though differently.  On this point they differ that Gandhiji as a political figure sought to be completely transparent and hence explained in great detail every word and action of his; he wrote his autobiography, 'The story of my experiments with Truth'.  On the other hand the position of a monk who has renounced everything personal in the world, holds the highest regard and devotion in the Indian psyche – so Swamiji following the traditional path and emphasised the ideas that he preached rather than his own life, words, and actions.  His life as a lesson comes down to us only from his direct followers who were blessed enough to have heard of it from the original source.  He himself only talked and wrote of ideas, Indian tradition and her path.  Here, we see one of the very core values of India that both saw and declared the place of religion in Indian life and movement. 

The very essence of Swamiji's teaching is Religion, i.e. moving Godward.  He said that each country had a goal and that of India is religion, i.e. renunciation.  Gandhiji constantly maintained in the very same vein that each civilisation had a purpose and Indian civilisation was not excess, but a giving up of wants, and that without religion, or the central thought of God, any life/work stream of India would be valueless, unethical, moral-less, lifeless.  Both advocated religious education should start at a very young age towards the overall development of the individual. 

The development of the individual is a significant meeting point for these two Teachers.  Both talk of the individual and how all growth start from within him.  Neither stops there.  Swamiji said, how if each individual tries to manifest the strength (divinity) within him, we will have a society and nation full of noble struggle and achievement.  Gandhiji takes off on the same note, and brought forth his concept of the oceanic circles, i.e. how the strength of each individual radiates outward to become the strength of the village – and so on to the strength of the nation.  This is no different from Swamiji's, 'Expansion is Life'.

Even with respect to an individual's conviction and commitment to one ideal, they both paid allegiance to "Truth", and both saw their work as their Truth.   Swamiji had an "uncompromising regard for Truth" even from his childhood and intensely sought to discover the ultimate truth all truths, with which you would know the self, the world and all creation.  He also simultaneously spoke of how the greatest philosophical truths can be found in the practical spirituality of ordinary people and ordinary things. 

We find Gandhiji declaring his life to be a "story of his experiments with truth" – and always struggling for an intangible, unseeable abstract truth.  And he continues to say till the end that he "worships the God that is Truth or Truth which is God through the service of his millions", and that he "recognises no God except the God that is to be found in the hearts of the dumb millions"  It awakens the same chords of response, as when one reads Swamiji's "would you worship the shiva in the images and temples alone? Worship and serve the shiva in his poorest and weakest children." This unshakeable devotion to Truth makes both of them be seen as rebels in their younger days.  Both challenged blind conventions, and persistently resisted the status quo if it was for nothing but the mere virtue of being status quo for years or centuries, in their own ways.  This challenge to conventional, dogmatic beliefs continues all their lives for both of them. 

It was not of their lot to acknowledge defeat, but to throw down the gauntlet every time.  Each rose with a challenge every time he encountered blind, empty ritual, conventional thought without meaning and fanaticism.  And yet, we find that both were the friendliest of people.  Both were brilliant conversationalists with quick ready wit and humour, and overflowed with compassion.  (Both of them also had sharp sarcasm ready at hand to use if needed).  It is said of each of them that he had a Mother's heart, the tenderest of hearts.  But for their own purposes, both kept it away from public view and under a veil of intellect.

Digging deeper into the friendliness and compassion, we find each one's ability to synthesise and harmonise contradictory thoughts and belief systems and function from common denominators.  Both, Swami Vivekananda and Gandhiji could bring together people with extreme viewpoints and beliefs to work together based on common ideals.   

This synthesis of ideas and a deeper insight into the nature of things that they shared, also extended to their ideas on the East and West, their respective values, strengths and weaknesses.  They differed on the point of expression in that, one was a political leader and saw in the West a system of force and civilisation, a tangible enemy to the well-being of his countrymen, and the other, a monk who deliberately kept away from politics and began at the points of strengths of every entity, be it individual or nation.  Brilliant is how each could relate profound philosophical concepts to everyday routine activity and bring them closer to practical life, and their very same idea of the Means and Ends of action - wherein both maintain that one is the same as the other, there is no separation. 

In the sphere of ideas, a very significant relevant meeting of these two great men is their vision of India and her work in the world.  Both saw India as the harmonising force of the world, as the teacher of religion (a godward movement) and Ahimsa (love) to the world.  Not a theoretical or bookish religion that would dry up social life and activity, but a strong, vibrant, active religion, or spirituality, the essence of which would reverberate in every sphere and activity of this land.  Herein, lies our lesson and how well we are able to stand on the towering strength of our own legacy, be prepared to take it on, learn from it, strengthen it, add to it and act on it.    


[1] In the words of Mahatma Gandhi

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Meeting Bombay Jayashree and Nataraja on Thiruvathirai Morning

Romance and motherliness. Do they seem irreconcilable concepts? Not to the author of this piece.

Romance is that space and journey in a nuanced dimension, where each moment is a koan, and every action is a search for truth. Motherliness is that state of being where every koan is realised and there is only truth, nothing else. There is no 'I' in either.

She is Music's consort as well as it's mother. Listening to Bombay Jayashree is an experience of devotion and divinity. Especially in a "Prabhata Sangeetam" environment (similar to chamber music, but particularly in the morning - dawn). A Shringeri Mutt devotee-family organises Prabhata Sangeetam in their house every December season, and BJ transported her listeners to a realm of Bhakthi and I-lessness, this morning. All the musicians (BJ, the violinist and percussionist/mridangam) as well as the accompanying girls on the tamburas performed in muted tones, perfectly resonating with the time and ambience. We were about 40 - 50 people sitting in the hall (drawing room) of the house, lighted only by about 60 - 65 குத்து விளக்குs (oil lamps - oil fired floor lamps) made of brass, in the presence of Venkateswara, Shiva, Sharada and Krishna.. The unwavering flames found an answering stillness from within. Her voice and singing has that unnameable quality that turns the attention inward - the yoga sutra prescribes the path in painstaking stages to reach 'pratyahara' - a withdrawal of the senses from the external world to move on to dhyana and samadhi thereon. Here, we were all immersed in one sense (of hearing), but even that was only an instrument for something deeper. It was only when the electric light was switched on that I felt my painful knee and that the mosquitoes were making a meal out of me!

She sang songs on Sharada and Shiva (today is Thiruvathirai, a day special to Lord Nataraja - Rudra). Her planned last rendering was Sarvam Brahmamayam ('everything is Brahmam'), but on a request followed it with a தாலாட்டு (lullaby) for the Bala Tripurasundari invoked in her image there ('bala' in sanskrit means child, 9-year old child goddess). If ever surrender to the lord (wherein there are two) and the sense of oneness of creation (where there is only One) felt but one and the same, it was during those moments.

The blessing of those moments continued into the morning. Lord Shiva, whose special day it is today (one of the legends has it that Sage Patanjali and Vyagrapada prayed to Lord Nataraja and he danced the Tandava-cosmic dance for them on this day) decided that I should visit him. I met my mother while returning from the concert, and since she was going to the Appar Swamy Koil (temple), suggested that I accompany her. Though not much of a temple-goer, I went along with her. In the temple, she jogged my memory about today's speciality and told me a couple of stories including the one above - my satsanga for the day! (As children we have listened to several stories from Hindu mythology and culture including those of every festival in the year). She also got me mouth watering prasad from the temple, then gave me களி that she'd made and sent me on my way.

A morning of worship, food for the stomach and food for the soul. I am complete.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

A poem. "Stray Moment"


Of what worth is my life? 
If I have not felt you.
You, who are ever with me - 
Thinking of the moutains by the sea;
Wanting to to feel the hot beach sands,
While shivering in a farm on the hills. 

You are then with me, my best friend,

Begging for attention - 
As I ignore the faint plea for solitude
In pursuit of gaiety and fun. 

You are puffing and panting,

As I gasp for breath,
Chasing after my dreams. 

You are plucking at me - 

As I do, the strings of my half hearted violin,
to pull me out of the hazy corridors
of days gone by,
A lazy sunday afternoon. 

You take a deep breath,

Hoping I will follow suit 
While I rush to finish a million tasks;
In vain, your breath? 

Leaving you orphaned,

I stray as well.

I find you now and then - 

In my niece's laughter
And the scent of my mother's pallu.
In the satisfaction of my best effort at work
And in the fulfillment of committed practice.

I find you,

When a thunderstorm makes the world howl
On a cheery Wordsworth day - walking, walking, walking...
Appear in an exciting idea;
celebrated in the unconditional love of my companion. 

I wonder at the contradiction to normal pinings - 

As a great soul explains:
"All remember in sorrow, none in joy,
If we remember in joy, where is the sorrow?"

Here I am all upside down,

I feel you with me,
In all apparent joyousness,
complete in just being. 

But forget you,

drowned in sorrow or ire.
You sigh, and I agree,
Remembering you I am complete in joy and sorrow alike. 

As I am now - 

In you - this moment! 
Stray you are no longer,
nor am I, in this conversation. 
for you are this moment, my whole life. 
-----------------------------------