What is this Post About? Handwriting...?

"Up above the blue line, down to the red line..." I notice my mother's beautiful fingers, wrapped around my chubby little hand as she chants the familiar handwriting 'mantras' that teach me the wonder of the written word. I can smell the gentle fragrance of her perfume, as she leans over me, guiding my hand and pencil over the old four-lined handwriting books that we used for learning how to write. I'm all concentration as I strive to make myself remember these heuristics, that would serve me well for the rest of my life. In the soft morning light that tumbles in through the window, I learn how to represent the world through symbols made with a pencil...

You know, its odd that I almost never actually "write" anymore... I often use the term "writing" when I refer to these posts that I create on LifeStrings, but I haven't actually written anything, have I? I usually make it a point to carry a pen with me wherever I go, but I use it only to sign on something or scrawl a few clumsy notes during a meeting or presentation. If I'm not concentrating hard, I tend to cringe at my own handwriting...for it seems dreadful compared to the beautiful script my school notes were written in.

All through school and college, I filled entire notebooks with my writing...everything from stories to mathematics... the middle finger of my right hand still has a toughened bit of skin foremost digit - the only reminder of how hard I held my pen while furiously taking notes in my Cognitive Psychology class. Looking back on those times, its strange to observe how alien it feels when I write something now.

But then... isn't life full of such examples, the more of it you live. We tend to lose touch with so many things, as other things come to take their place. The typewriter and now the keyboard replaced the pen, the compact disc brought an end to the era of audio cassettes, cable TV replaced VCRs... the list could go on an on...! We're left with little glimmers of the past, that we tuck into cartons, drawers, albums etc. to be taken out and looked at with nostalgia someday...

It's funny how soon we can give up something we clung to so strongly only a little while ago. I transitioned from writing to typing, so smoothly, that I barely even noticed the difference until I tried writing a substantial amount one day (and gave up in dismay!). People say they find it hard to let go of things and each other...without realising that they do it all the time. How many of us are in touch with the school friends we shared so much of our childhood with? When did we last look up the teachers that most inspired us in college? When did we last take a minute to call up a favourite aunt/uncle just to say hello...NOT for a birthday or anniversary?

You see...we let go of things all the time! It's just that we're used to doing it out of a subconscious tendency to seek convenience and avoid anything we perceive as burdensome (I'm not sure if that's a word...but it sounds like it should be!). We let go of people, relationships, possessions and the attachments we have for them quite automatically, as we find other things, people etc. to attach ourselves to. We hold on to just little shreds of the past, that we never want to be without... just in case there is time and space in which to enjoy them once more. So, for instance, I will NEVER give up carrying a pen around, even though I almost never use it, just in case it comes handy sometime...and because its somewhat reassuring to know I still have it...and still know how to write. It would take a definite amount of mental effort and self-reassurance to give up this near-obsolete habit... I wonder if I will be up to it someday... I wonder if I even should...

Aren't some relationships just like this pen? Almost non-existent, but we carry them around (because we know they have value for us even though we've taken them for granted), never knowing when we might need to invoke them... careful not to confront the anxiety of anticipating whether or not they will still be there when we do?

My solution to the problem of the pen is to take the time and make the effort to WRITE...even if its just a few lines a day. It makes me feel connected and refreshes my mind with so many associations I have with the concept of this skill. When it comes to relationships you value, it's pretty much the same...MAKE the time to call someone you care about but seldom meet anymore... DO something that makes them feel you're still a part of their lives...that you WANT to be a part of their... don't make someone you care about as obsolete an an old pen...and don't become that pen for someone either!

God bless!

Like A Child Again

It isn't everyday that a man can beam happily even as someone pulls his ear and administers a fairly audible smack to his cheek. Nevertheless, I have a witness to state that this is how I responded to the above mentioned pull and smack, a few days ago...

To be honest, neither of the actions was painful because they weren't really intended to hurt me... I saved this little detail for now, just to make the first paragraph a little more interesting! :D My apologies for the sauciness... and don't get me wrong...I'm hardly the type to remain passive if intentional violence is directed at my person!

The incident I'm referring to occurred in a music class that I attend. My teacher, whom I call "Didi" (Hindi for older sister) inspired this post. I don't think I will never forget the look on her face as she leaned forward to pull my ear... it is a very happy and meaningful memory for me.

Didi took me under her wing a few months ago, to teach me the nuances of semi-classical music. Not only are her classes teaching me various types of such music, they are also helping me discover my voice in its entirety. She's helping me learn how to sing without being self-conscious (which I have a tendency to be) and with complete confidence in myself. Her lessons are sprinkled liberally with trademark metaphors and admonishments, all tailored to drive home some vital points. She once told me that there was no point in trying to hide my mistakes by singing softly because she would catch them anyway and then get annoyed because she'd think I was trying to conceal them. She added quite pointedly that the reason I was in her class was for her to find my errors so she could help me correct them...so where was the sense in being 'discreet'? The lesson hit me like a flat stone in the centre of my forehead! Good heavens! There I was trying so hard to avoid making errors, while someone was willing to let me make them, sans judgement and in fact, waiting to help me overcome them!

We seldom have the luxury of returning to a situation where our environment is tolerant of the mistakes we make...when someone is waiting patiently, to pick us up each time we fall and show us where we went wrong the last time. I use the term 'returning' because to be in a situation like this, is akin to being a child again, when a caregiver is there to help a toddler learn to walk, read, write, discover the world...

Didi is helping me discover my voice in baby steps that mean the world to me. I'm hearing myself clearly for the first time, experiencing what my voice can do and understanding what I can do to improve it. In her presence, I feel like a little boy, eager to show his teacher what he has learnt to do, and to learn as much as he can from her. I remember the delight with which I learnt things from my kindergarten teachers, because I feel the same connection with her... both when she praises my efforts and when she corrects me.

It is only when we grow older that we begin to cherish how wonderful it is to be taken care of...to be called lovingly by a nickname...to be told it's alright if we don't get it right the first time... When Didi pulled my ear and smacked my cheek, she did it affectionately, playfully because I had delayed in relaying some good news to her. It felt wonderful to me, because I felt that she had asserted her right to partake of my happiness... because she thinks of herself as my caregiver.

I hope you have loads of people in you life, who make you feel this way... parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, teachers etc. The next time you give them a hug, put in a extra squeeze... :)

God Bless!

A Potter's Wheel

A few days ago, I saw the face of a senior executive beam with child-like delight as he told me about his early experiences in a weekend pottery that he joined recently. There was an earnest quality to his expression that charmed me at once. I listened to him describe how pressure has to be applied in a particular way so that the shape of the pot remains symmetrical, how one must keep one's hands steady for about ten minutes to make sure that a shapeless lump of clay spins into something beautiful. Each word was uttered with an intensity that reminded me of how my little cousins tell me about something exciting they did, their faces aglow with a heart-warming earnestness...

When we grow older, start working and shouldering what seems to be an ever-increasing number of responsibilities, it becomes very difficult for us to hold on to some simple pleasures that make life wonderfully meaningful. Some of us completely lose track of the last time that we stopped to admire a sunrise, enjoy the evening breeze, feel the world disappear in some wonderful music, spend time with a good friend...

The action of making something beautiful on the potter's wheel reminds me of life... I think of life as the clay that the potter is trying to fashion into something shapely, elegant. The potter has two hands to accomplish this. One hand symbolises the 'big' things - a job, a steady income etc. and the other symbolises the 'little' things - the sort of stuff that makes you smile when you think about it, something that you never have to worry about. If the potter doesn't make sure that both the hands are steady, chances are that the pot will be bent out of shape. The potter's mind represents consciousness. Just as the potter has to be equally aware of both his hands and their placement on the spinning clay, our minds must also be equally focussed on the 'big' and little 'things' to make sure that we mould our lives in a balanced way.

We must never forget the little things that make big differences to us...the moments and occurrences that don't cost us a penny, but make us smile freely. Our smiles are worth more than we might imagine...our happiness is beyond value...YOUR happiness is priceless. Today, I wish you all the happiness you could ever imagine.

God Bless! :)

Heroes

Most of us who have been blessed with a good childhood - nourishing, playful, innocent - have grown up with dozens of favourite stories/ legends/ myths, narrated to us by loving caregivers...shaped by our imaginations and fantasies. Many of these stories will have had a "hero". The hero has many forms, ranging from the invulnerable deity or demigod who conquers all foes, to the tragic protagonist who faces severe adversities before reaching a happy ending...and sometimes not even that.

We all grow up with our heroes. In the recesses of our mind we cling to their images and draw on them whenever we can to make comparisons between their tales and the circumstances of our own lives. Often, we try their approaches to solving problems in our lives. It's almost like we ask ourselves, "What would Superman have done?" and try to follow suit. I'm sure there are people for whom this works well and others who have yet to find the balance between myth and 'reality'.

The heroes of legend, exist largely in works of literature or in hand-me-down stories, passed along the generations by word of mouth. They exist in paintings, carvings, tapestries, sculptures etc. that people look upon with awe, as representations of the stories they play and replay in their minds. They become symbols of power, effort, and hope that people look up to, scarcely realising where the real power comes from...their own minds!

Regardless of whether or not these heroes ever walked the earth, they exist because human minds wills them into existence. Their lives persist because the human race honours them with its memory of their efforts and exploits. The human imagination gives them colour, detail, sound, meaning and much more...it is where the true power of the hero lies. Giving birth to both the demon that was slain and to the hero that destroyed it, the mind is by far more powerful that the hero it shapes. People look up to the hero and pour their faith into its symbolism. They have only to realise that they don't really depend on heroes...heroes depend on them. From Hercules to Superman, every hero that exists, exists only because there are people to validate his heroism.

There is no quality in heroes that cannot be manifested in ourselves. Heroes are but waves on the limitless ocean of human potential. Think about it...

Shrugging Off the Shackles

For some time now I've been trying, rather unsuccessfully to get a post up on this blog. I gave myself several reasons for it... no time, stifled creativity, fatigue etc. But it was only a few minutes ago that the real reason struck me, and to be honest, it quite embarrassed me, in my own eyes!

Ever since the idea grew on me, I've always maintained that it's important never to let any ideals remained unquestioned in your mind. The ones that are worth adhering to are the ones that pass the tests of your own reasoning and inspection. They are the thoughts that last you for lifetimes and mark you with a distinct individuality...

One of my ideals is to resist any sort of ideas that limit free-thinking on my part, or that stop me from progressing...and recently I allowed myself to fall unwittingly into just one such trap, which is what prevented me from posting anything on LifeStrings for such a long time!

For some reason, I convinced myself that there was a particular post that I just HAD to put up before I got down to writing anything else. I tried for weeks on end to write it, but while this post is literally spurting from my fingertips, I could not get past two paragraphs on that one... I kept telling myself that I'd get back to it sometime, that it was probably just the workload in the office or a small writer's block that was coming in my way. It was neither of the two... it was just my subconscious bonding to an idea that I never really liked in the first place! Now that I look at it, the topic that I chose for that post, was likely to merit nothing more than a mundane narrative of reality. A movement from 'then I did this', to 'then I did that'...which is so powerfully opposed to everything that LifeStrings stands for. This is a space in which I share my feelings with you...deeper thoughts, insights expressed spontaneously and almost all completed and published in the same day that I thought of them. The mundane has little scope for expression here! This is a place where I let go of all the "shoulds" that don't make me feel good about adhering to them...how ironic therefore, that a little "should" was the cause of my long hiatus from the blogosphere! lol!

I never HAD to marry myself to that regressive idea, but I did so sub-consciously, probably because I thought that I could make it fit the theme of this blog, somehow. But that's exactly where I went wrong! You see, I have never before had to "make" something fit LifeStrings...it always came naturally, quickly. It either fit or it didn't...and if it didn't, that was OK. This time, I was trying to force something to fit this blog, which is precisely what made my mind falter.

Let me take this opportunity therefore, to affirm that I never want to be in such a state again...where the movement of my mind is restricted by any kind of influence, from within or without. I never want my inner ear to be unable to hear the notes and chords in Life's music. And I want to be ever-attuned to the little things that make big differences.

I'm back and LifeStrings will soon have more on it pages! :)

God Bless!

The Facets of Change

There are times in life, when we want to take a decisive step, that means letting go of something or someone we are are very used to. At such times we struggle very much to achieve this transformation. In short, there is something in us that resists "change", which is what I want to write about today.

I cannot count the number of times I've heard something like "Change is the only constant", "Only change is permanent" etc. Yes, yes, I agree, but I think the reason behind the existence of these very highly redundant phrases should be discussed a little more!

Change is not always easy...it implies alteration, creation, destruction, adjustment...effort. Change is not always positive, change is not always painless. But it happens all the time, at micro and macro levels. There are microorganisms who are born, exist reproduce and die before we so much as finish drawing a deep breath. There are philosophers who believe that the very Universe is created, destroyed and recreated second upon second.

Yes, change is a constant, inalienable and in fact necessary for survival. Yet, it is not always easy to deal with change, especially when it means the alteration of well established thoughts, behaviours or relationships. Change of this kind is an emotional event that the individual has to process and work through, sometimes incurring considerable pain in the process. The difficulties are especially acute if one did not want the change in the first place and was forced to face it because of relatively external circumstances.

Today, I want to talk about possible ways in which we can look at the phenomenon on change in our lives and maybe leave this post with some thoughts on how we can facilitate positive change in our lives. An interesting, though cliched way of doing this, might be considering each letter in the word "Change" as representing of a facet of the whole process. Oh well...I think I'll just risk it...here goes!

C = Conviction (and Commitment)
Successful change requires conviction...the belief that we have taken the right step and that that we are going to achieve something fruitful by taking this step. It also implies the courage to stand by our decision and take responsibility for our actions. Our minds may falter several times even as we tread the path of change, but it is our conviction that keeps us steady and takes us closer to our goal.

When I write about conviction, I do not mean blind belief...I mean faith born out of experience, and thought that is both rational and intuitive. True conviction is born of mature thought, instinct and considerable exploration of one's emotions. I think emotions are by far the most important aspect of this situation...going through our emotions, letting them swirl within us, observing their movements, their causes and the thoughts that they lead to give us control over them and we are better able to make an informed choice.

Conviction is not enough unless we have commitment to support it. Belief is one thing...acting on it is another. Both must go hand in hand. We also have to prepare ourselves to be tested for both our conviction as well as commitment several times along the path to positive change.

H = Honesty
I don't think we can ever achieve successful change unless we are truly honest with ourselves and with others around us. What we will change, what the change will do for us and what we are prepared to accomplish or give up in the process are questions that we must answer for ourselves as well as for any others to whom we feel answerable...and these answers must be entirely truthful. Honesty gives us clarity...sometimes the clarity comes with painful revelations, but it is better to ride that pain and get it over with, rather than live with the dull ache of suppositions for the rest of one's life.

A = Acceptance
Change may sometimes lead to the loss of things that existed in our lives for a very long time. It may mean letting go of very old beliefs, ideas, habits...even people etc. We have to accept these conditions and consequences, if no other alternative presents itself. Acceptance is probably the most difficult facet of change because it is an internal phenomenon tested constantly by self-doubt and memories of what we gave up. Often it requires facing oneself very pointedly and noting some regrettable aspects of the past...it is quite difficult to acknowledge some of the things that happened to us, or some of the things that we did. Yet, acceptance is liberating and makes change more meaningful...it provides an unshakable platform on which we face the past, the present and the future and consolidate all three.

N = Norms
It is very important to define the 'limits' of change...while changes may be essential for some aspects of our lives, they might not be healthy if introduced in other areas. We have to be careful not to generalize change without deliberation. For instance, developing assertiveness skills might be a great idea for dealing with bullies in the workplace, but one must be careful not to let assertiveness creep into interactions with even relatively benign people. It is simply not required in some situations and using it inappropriately can ruin interpersonal relationships. Change can sometimes be a very heady feeling...so much so, that it's difficult to stop trying to implement it everywhere.

G = Gravity
We have to take change seriously, especially when it's impact is likely to be wide-ranging. It might be alright to make light of it once in a while, just to ease the mental burden of implementing it. However, in the long run, we have to respect ourselves for shouldering the responsibility of transforming our lives and we have to ensure that our conduct reflects the same. There may be others who fail to understand the courage required to alter one's life, no matter how small the alteration. To such people, our efforts lack meaning and it is difficult to persuade them otherwise. It is also difficult not to question one's actions when such people fail to appreciate one's efforts. The strength to counter the questions and flippant remarks of external entities, comes from regarding change as a powerful event in our lives and giving ourselves due respect for conducting it.

E = Enthusiasm
Zest is a crucial ingredient in facilitating positive change. Transformation requires great energy and and willingness. Physical, emotional, mental and spiritual resources are all required for it. The willingness to utilize these resources comes from being aware of how we are going to benefit from the change. Looking forward to the results with positive expectations and having the confidence to realise those expectations leads to enthusiasm.

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So those were my humble thoughts on what it takes to truly affect change in our lives...do let me know if ever they remind you of something you changed, or help you step a little closer to transforming something in your life.

God Bless! :)

A Fork in the Road

Sometimes, no matter how much we would wish it to be otherwise, we find ourselves moving along paths that are different from those of the ones we love. The divergence could take any form; physical, emotional, intellectual, spiritual even geographical. There are moments when we strain against ourselves and everything else we blame for this change, just so that we remain attached to our loved ones. Conflict occurs, pain well up from deep within...anxiety, fear, anger, resentment, despair, desperation...

Over the several years that I've spent in this life, I've experienced a few situations of this kind. Some of my dearest friends and relatives grew apart from me, our values and expectations becoming dramatically different. We made attempts to change this, trying to restore things to the way they used to be, but throughout those attempts we felt a curious sense of hollowness and self-deception. Sooner or later, we had to accept that things were different and we had no choice but to move on with our lives and on our different paths.

Today, I've come to realise that this was not a bad thing...I still care very much even for the ones that I moved away from and I'm quite certain that they requite my feelings as well. However, we are no longer "attached" to one another. The attachment was the cause of the pain we experienced when we found ourselves changing, because we had grown used to the energy of our interactions. We drew on each other for strength and positive feelings and when the time came to part ways, we felt afraid about whether we were anything substantial without one-another. Well, yes, we most certainly ARE beings of substance, worth and value, even by ourselves and even if there is not a soul in the world that would endorse this opinion!

The tricky thing about relationships is that we don't know when we get lost in them. It becomes increasingly difficult to tell where the individual is separate from the collective entity of the relationship...and that is where the trouble starts! You see, we change, evolve, transform, constantly over the span of our lives and so do the people we love. Experiences, insights, memories, come together to effect alterations in our perspectives...we just forget to consider that the way our perspectives change may not match the changes in our loved ones.

So, there came a time when I found myself brooding about the people that I had grown away from, feeling a little sorry for myself etc. when suddenly it struck me that I had NOTHING to really brood about! I saw life in a new light...one in which the confluence and divergence of paths is not an unfortunate but a marvellous phenomenon. I cherished each and every moment I had spent with the people who were now far from me and I appreciated the time I was spending (and continue to spend) with people who had come into my life, however recently...and it felt wonderful!

Each person who touches your life, gives you something...a part of himself or herself that you take and add to the fabric of your being. Even when they are no longer there with you, that part of them remains, and you remain a more wholesome person as a result. When one person moves away from you, it is certain that another person comes closer...it's just that you tend to be so caught up in clinging to the former that you take much longer to receive the latter. When you do open your mind and life to other people, however, the amount of love and positivity you receive is just overwhelming. You keep the happiness given to you by those who moved away and to it you add the happiness that you get from the scores of people to whom you open your heart. It's a win-win situation really! (Just for the record, I'd like to make it clear that I'm not suggesting a chain of emotionally dependent relationships here! What I'm saying is that even as we allow the flow of people in and out of our lives, we are the ones responsible for moderating the happiness we derive from them...and the best moderators are those who are happy in themselves. We are more than a fraction of our relationships...we are whole and we are full of potential. We have lived, loved and learnt from life and that in itself is something to be happy about. It is this core happiness that allows us to remain stable while we experience the ebb and flow of interpersonal relationships).

Letting go of someone you care about is easier said than done. It requires courage and the ability to care for that person unconditionally. More than anything, it requires the willingness to let go of one's resentment and other ill-feelings about the separation. But it CAN be done and above, I've outlined the way it works best for me. Maybe it'll work for you too!

God bless!

Homage to the Hand that Rocks the Cradle

A few days ago, I saw one of the simplest, yet most charming sights that I have ever seen till date. I was enjoying a brisk evening walk, in the beautiful garden that adjoins my apartment block, breathing in a delightful breeze that had the barest hint of a nip in it (just the way I like it!). I'd taken several rounds, quite oblivious of my surroundings on account of some particularly good music that I was listening to, when I saw this spectacle that just stayed with me.

Seated on one of the park's wooden benches was a lady, holding a cherubic baby girl on her lap. She was probably in her thirties and wore a loose-fitting outfit. A simple hairband kept her glossy hair from falling on her face. It was the face that caught my attention...a face that wore an expression of the most perfect contentment and happiness. More than her fair skin and radiant complexion, it was her smile that made my slow my pace, just so I could observe her and her infant for a while longer.

Her smile was the kind that lights up your soul, regardless of whether or not it is meant for you. A pure, unaffected expression that shone through her entire face, beaming down at the baby who reciprocated in kind. She was singing a little song that would sound perfectly nonsensical to "mature" ears, but in that moment, there was nothing that made more sense. Gently, she bounced her daughter on her knee, singing her funny little song, the two of them completely lost to the world. In perfect tandem, the baby's delighted gurgles rippled between the lyrics, especially when her mother gave her the gentlest of tickles.

In those few moments, there was nothing that had more meaning for me, than the sight of this little interaction that I witnessed. It sent my mind racing into the past, awakening some of my oldest memories, in which I shared similar moments with my mother. I saw myself in a bright room (in my old home in Calcutta), making my first attempts at writing. My mother stood behind me, leaning over my chair, her gentle fingers closing over my hand, showing my how to hold the pencil steady. I remember the sweet smell of her perfume and the feel of her soft curly hair against my cheek. Together, we wrote my first letters as she sang a little song that she made up to guide my learning: "Up above the red line, down to the blue line..." In this way we formed each and every member of the alphabet on those old four-lined exercise books in which children learn to write.

Today, I type more than I write, but had it not been for those moments spent with her, the alphabet would have been no more than a bunch of odd shapes and most of the world would not have made any sense!

A mother's hand is one of the first things that the infant feels and it's touch becomes an unmistakable sensation. Powerful, gentle, protective, steadying and more...she communicates all these qualities with no more than her touch. It is this touch that guides us throughout our time together, an unshakable reassurance of unconditional love that comforts us even when it is a memory.

Over the span of all the years I have spent in this life, I've observed an evolution in the relationship that I share with my mother. I began life as her eager student, soaking in all she had to teach like a dry sponge that has just been shown under a gushing tap! As the years progressed and I acknowledged the presence of different people in my life, I learnt new things, expanded my horizons in even more directions. This does not mean I abandoned my mother's paths (till today she remains my expert-of-choice on a vast range of topics)...what I'm saying is that I realised that there were many things that I could learn and share with her...things that even she did not know. I realised that we are both students in this enormous school called Life...that we are both looking for something...and that she is my senior, but she is willing to learn each time I find something that she is unaware of (and vice-versa).

We are now partners in the journey of our existence...Children of the same Universe...rivers meandering towards the same ocean. Sometimes we are hand-in-hand and at sometimes we do things a little differently, but an undying love binds as at all times. It began even before I came into existence in her womb and will remain even when we are no longer there in this world...for that is the glory of a mother and her child.

Here's to all our mothers! :)

God bless!

Hello 2007!

There are just about 15 minutes to before the date changes to 2nd January 2007...so let me finish this fast!

This is the first of many posts that will find themselves on LifeStrings in the year 2007. I don't have a specific topic in mind, yet...at present I'm still revelling in the odd excitement of having entered the new year. I don't know what it is that always gets me so excited about the first of January (it's something like the thrill I used to feel on my birthdays, when I was much younger and believed that we only grow taller on our birthdays!).

This year has opened itself with an inspiration for hope, prayers and conviction. Hope for the joy, love and compassion that I will find in the days to come, prayers to spread such thoughts and actions in all areas of my life and the conviction that I will indeed do so, no matter what!

This evening, as I took a walk in the deliciously cool breeze, I suddenly found myself thinking along such lines...and almost on cue, a dozen sparklers flew into the dark sky, exploding with their jubilant hues (apparently there was a celebration of some kind in a nearby building, where the residents were lighting these firecrackers). On and on they went, streaking up in golden trails and filling the night with their colours...and somehow I knew at once that the Universe had conspired once again...giving me an indication of the happiness that is to come.

I welcome you to the new year of posts on LifeStrings...more shared experiences, thoughts, insights and love. :)

God Bless!

Farewell, 2006!

If you're reading this, thank you, yet again, for sharing my life, even if it's only by means of reading LifeStrings. It means a lot to me.

This is my last post for 2006, which has been a most remarkable year, as far as I'm concerned. It was a period in which I found knowledge, overcame barriers from within, got my first job, forged new friendships and above all, experienced love and compassion in a hundred different ways.

So, to mark the end of this year, I decided to write a post that would create a sense of closure (mostly for myself!) and appreciation for all that has happened over the last 365 days. My post takes the form of a list of lessons that I've learnt over this year. Many of you will have been directly involved in the experiences that have led to the thoughts I now express. Perhaps you will even be able to sense where you contributed to my learning :)

• The greatest strength we can find is within ourselves
  Nothing can surpass the potency of the human spirit, once it has committed itself to a positive pursuit. This year, I found strength and determination when I needed it the most, in order to overcome indecision, apprehension and certain anxieties. I don't think these three obstacles were very different from what we all routinely experience in the course of life, but I tend to observe that we prolong their duration in our consciousness by waiting for their dismissal to come from something external.
  
  What I found, over the last several months, was that the greatest light and energy source that we can hope to harness come from nothing other than our own souls. It manifests itself in our prayers, in our thoughts and in our actions, when we decide that we will mobilize all our resources for the good of ourselves as well as others. There is nothing that this power cannot accomplish. Hope unlooked for, comes into the lives of the hapless, small miracles happen to adjust the larger scheme of things most pleasantly and the Universe starts making sense.
  
  So, we need to believe that we are worthy of positive change, believe that we deserve good things to happen to us and we must love ourselves. Three little fragments of a sentence, but each carrying the weight of an unshakable mountain once established within the human heart. Do you think you can do it? I know you can...
  
• There is a Big Picture and we're all a part of it
  The Universe has a plan, it unfurls as we speak, and we all belong to it. Our lives have a meaning and purpose, each contributing to the way in which the we and our worlds shape themselves. Our thoughts and affirmations have power...they make things happen. They don't say "faith moves mountains" for nothing, you know!
  
  More than once this year, I've seen how the thoughts I've sent out have shaped my present and future (apart from helping me resolve issues of the past). The Universe responds to our thoughts with similar energies and experiences. So the little secret is to think about and visualise what you want from life, as clearly as you possibly can. Think it, see it, feel it and let it fill your being. It doesn't matter if it's something material or something abstract. It will come to you once you need it and believe that you will get it.
  [A small tip: It's usually a good idea to ensure that your thoughts for self-development are flavoured with some thoughts for the enhancement of others. Ask for anything you want but make sure that you affirm that it happens in the best interests of all concerned beings. Basically this means specifying the end and not the means (leave those to the Universe!). You see, there are many occasions in life when we want something and think about how we can get it, regardless of who or what that process might damage. So effectively, we're asking for something that goes against the interests of others...and in the process our thoughts and prayers conflict with those of other people. Ultimately it means delayed responses for everyone, and where's the good in that?
  
  Include the best interests of all others in your thoughts and the Universe acts so fast its unbelievable! Just try it sincerely a few times (even if it's just to humour me!)].
  
• Something good can be churned out of any situation
  Recently, a colleague left me speechless with appreciation when he spoke about Swami Vivekananda saying that no misery is undeserved. It suddenly struck me most poignantly that everything happens for a reason (I tend to attribute all those reasons to the Cycle of Karma, which I believe in very strongly)...the best and the worst. We have to be able to rejoice in the former and accept the lessons that are embedded in the latter.
  
  There are lessons to be learnt from even the worst experiences of life...even those which we think we have done nothing to deserve. There are two ways of looking at such situations: The first is the maladaptive way of thinking that we have been wronged and must now make all efforts to escape. The second is the path of conviction in which we believe that misfortune may have befallen us, but we still have the chance to stand our ground and we have the power to eliminate all the effects of that misfortune. It may take months and years, but we can and will do it.
  
  Writing this down is a lot simpler than putting it into practice, but I speak from experience...
  
• Sharing one's heart is never in vain
  There are few things comparable to the joy that comes from finding that you have what it takes to reach out emotionally to another person. There is so much suffering out there, in the lives of people we care about and also in the lives of those we may never meet. We might not be able to reach everyone, but we can make a huge difference in the lives of those we can reach.
  
  I'm not talking about material support here...I'm talking about emotional and compassionate help. To be able to help another person give release to their fears, apprehensions, distress and sorrows is a great gift. It is an ability that has to be nurtured with one's own evolution as a being. It comes from being able to make another sense that you care and that you will never use the knowledge that they give you for your own interests. Most importantly, it is an act of unconditional love that goes a long way in forging the most meaningful and affectionate relationships that one can imagine.
  
  Elizabeth Kubler Ross says it best: "I have never met a person whose greatest need was anything other than real, unconditional love. You can find it in a simple act of kindness toward someone who needs help. There is no mistaking love. You feel it in your heart. It is the common fiber of life, the flame that heals our soul, energizes our spirit and supplies passion to our lives. It is our connection to God and to each other."

So, with these little offerings, I share with you some elements of what my mind and heart have learnt over the last year and hope that you find something sustaining in them.

Happy New Year to you all!

God Bless!

Yaman

Twilight stretches its arms across the sky,
Kalindi robes herself in swirling shadows,
A gentle breeze whispers sweet nothings to all ears that listen...

On the riverbank sits the moon-skinned Radha,
Brighter than pearls, a tear gleams on her fair cheek,
Kanha fills her thoughts and she aches for his touch...

But He is a trickster, wily and unrelenting,
In hiding, he watches his beloved with mirth in his eyes,
And listens with amusement to the longing in her sighs...

Soon, he will cast aside his concealment,
And gleefully approach her on soundless feet,
His sudden embrace will startle her and his laughter will ease her cares...

Then tears shall be wiped, sighs shall become loving murmurs,
And songs of love will be whispered into the playful breeze...
_____________________________________________

The above poem came to me a few nights ago, when I was listening enraptured to Ustad Usman Khan's sitar recital. The aged maestro played Raag Yaman, which is particularly close to my heart because it is the first Raag I learnt from my Guru. Over the hour-long recital, the images associated with this poem flowed freely in my mind...writing them later took almost no effort...

Yaman is the quintessential twilight melody...the music of a silent yearning that morphs into devotion and hope. It reminds the performer and listener alike, of the elusive completion that all beings are searching for. The true beauty of the bandishes (lyrical compositions) of Hindustani music, lies in the hidden meanings of their words. To an unseeing mind, many of them will give voice to the passion and games of two lovers, describing their affection for each other. However, at a deeper and more abstract level, one can find the profound spiritual flavour that permeates all Hindustani music.

Radha and Krishna symbolise pure, unfettered love. With beauty that dwarfs anything else, Radha is the devotee who has submitted entirely to the divinity in Krishna. And despite his overt mischievousness and tendency to vex his beloved, Krishna is completely dedicated to her. Radha symbolises the human who yearns for spiritual awakening/realization and strives for this insight through devotion to a spiritual path. Krishna symbolises the awakening that lies at the end of that path, i.e. God. Krishna's little games and wiles mirror the way in which divinity permeates our lives with a hundred little coincidences that have no logical roots, but somehow make our lives brighter and more meaningful. The Universe tests us in myriad ways, but for those of us who have faith in the scheme of things, such tests always yield pleasant results.

Krishna tests Radha by delaying the moment of their union, but Radha, despite her sadness, never fails in keeping her mind fixed on him. In response to her devotion, he has no choice but to reveal himself to her. Similarly, Yaman tells the listener to maintain a focus on the supreme, despite the distress that comes from not achieving a speedy realisation of it...for once the mind is focused, there is no way that the divine will be able to ignore it.

God Bless!

PS. If you are interested in listening to something in Raag Yaman, the best thing to do would be to purchase its rendition by an acclaimed artiste. My favourite Yaman recitals have been by Smt. Kishori Amonkar (vocals), Pt. Bhimsen Joshi (Vocals), Gundecha Bandhu (vocals) , Ustad Vilayat Khan (Sitar) and Ustad. Amjad Ali Khan (Sarod).

You can also listen to some clips of Yaman on the following websites:

• www.itcsra.org (click on "Samay Raga" on the right side of the landing page and then select Yaman from the rotating display that appears).
  
• www.swarganga.org (click on the Raagabase link in the left navigation and locate Yaman in the database that appears)
  
• http://www.sawf.org/music/articles.asp?pn=Music this is the music section of www.sawf.org, which consists of brilliant articles on Indian Classical Music, written by Rajan Parrikar. Select the item called Kalyan, from the table of contents that appears.)

And remember...(especially if you are the sort of person who grumbles about not being able to 'understand' the words in a song)...in the words of Ustad Usman Khan...there is nothing to understand in this music, but there is a lot to feel! :)

Xavier's

Today, after what seemed like an eternity, I found myself driving through the roads of South Mumbai and suddenly, my spirits rose as I realised that I was very close to my alma mater.

Have I told you about Xavier's? I think not...and even if I have, I still want to write about it because today my heart sings with those memories and I can't resist the desire to express them. :)

It was probably one of the most blessed occsasions in my life when I walked through the main entrance of St. Xavier's College, Mumbai, knowing that I would be completing my undergraduate studies there. Life was to change forever once I set foot in those premises...

I had never been to Mumbai before. My life until then, had been spent in Calcutta and Delhi. When I shifted to Mumbai, it wasn't for a vacation, but for keeps...luckily, before I joined college, I had a couple of months to orient myself with the city, getting familiar with its people and its indomitable pulse.

Mumbai rapidly became my idea of home. I was comfortable with the people, quickly learnt the public transport system, savoured the seafood and took long walks on the beach. I found the weather agreeable and soon learnt to accept the overpopulation and fearsome traffic snarls with the singlemindedness of the regular Mumbaikar. Delhi, by comparison was cleaner, more spacious and had a lovely winter, but had never really made me happy. With the exception of a few wonderful friends I had there, there weren't many people in school that I could relate to. I spent over two years feeling like a misfit and doing much to avoid the attentions of the school bullies. When it was time to leave school, therefore, I did not feel any measure of sadness, but rather looked forward most expectantly to starting a life in Mumbai, where my folks were relocating.

Expectations can be tricky things...they often turn up at the root of most forms of unhappiness. I knew this but still preferred to think of Mumbai as an exciting new chapter in my life. I trusted in the Universe and believed that there was something magical waiting for me on the west-coast of India, where I had never walked before. The day I walked into my College, I realised that it was the magical gift that had been prepared for me.

How should I describe Xavier's to you? It was a feeling of oneness that I had missed for so long in Delhi. I did not know anyone in that college and was completely unfamilar with its classrooms and corridors, but something in the air whispered a welcome. Somehow, I felt very safe in that building...and I knew that the whole place wanted me to be there.

One of the first thoughts that spun through my mind as I walked through the ancient building was, "I'm in Hogwarts!" :) You see, I had just begun a studious devouring of JK Rowlings books and my imagination was brimming with their contents. So, when I walked through a myriad different passages and stairways, looked at strange gothic architecture, dozens of stone gargoyles and a generous sprinkling of faculty members (who had obviously been around for ages), there was a little part of me that was staring at the place with the wonder of a student entering Hogwarts for the first time!

Over the three years that passed, Xavier's steadily gave me some of the greatest gifts that life sent my way. A superb group of friends with whom I have enduring ties (even though they are now literally scattered across the globe!), an education that changed forever my view of things - broadening my perspectives, taking me within as well as without - and a desire to transcend intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. I found myself engaged in discussions with some of the finest minds that it has been my privelege to meet and in their presence I learnt to examine my own thoughts with fresh perspectives. We grew together as we touched each other's lives.
There's something about Xavier's that makes you want to make a persistent impression on the canvas of existence. It's not necessarily about achieving world renown (although there is no dearth of Xavierites who have achieved that)... it's more about touching the lives of people you come in contact with and somehow leaving them with something positive, no matter how small.

"Provocans ad volandum" - provoke to fly - is the college motto. As eaglets leave their eyeries and leap into the air - the wind beneath their wings and their eyes fixed on the gleaming sun - Xavierites leave their College at the end of their education, secure in the knowledge that no matter where life takes them, they have what it takes to ascend, to rise above the milling throngs of humanity and help others reach the same place...

Blessed

I'm incredibly pleased to say that LifeStrings is one year old today! :)

Last year, on this very day, I discovered the Way of the Blog and signed on as an ardent follower. There's been no looking back since. LifeStrings is here to stay (unless the Internet or blogger.com cease to exist...in which case I have a back-up of all my posts anyway!). Incidentally, I also turned twenty-four a few days back, so there are two birthdays that I'm celebrating through this post.

Birthdays always excite me. The parties and the good food are definitely big attractions, but more than that it's the fact that we celebrate the life of someone we care about, and we thank the Universe for the day in which this person came out into the world and our lives. When I celebrate my birthday, what I'm happiest about is that I've completed another year in the company of the most amazing people, learnt several more of life's innumerable lessons and moved a little further along the path of completion. I'm just so thankful for the fact that there are so many people for me to share love with and there are countless reasons for me to smile... :) I'm blessed and I would shout it from the rooftops if I could...who knows, perhaps I will someday!

When I started with LifeStrings, I was not very certain about how long it would last. I took it as an exercise in creative writing which I would terminate whenever I got bored of it. Little did I know what I was getting into! Before I knew it, LifeStrings had becomes and entity by itself. It became the physical manifestation of a part of me that I didn't voice as much as I would have liked...and in the process it taught me how to voice this even in the "real world"! I cannot tell you how many times I've gained wonderful insights on my existence while listening to the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard. Similarly, so many people have enriched my sense of self with the comments that they left on my posts...they encouraged me to write more because they felt a connection with my ideas. What I felt in turn, is that a deep-seated part of my being was now connected to so many like-minded souls. The world shrank most remarkably and my life grew still brighter!

So, if you're reading this, thank you for being a part of my life...even if we've never met, LifeStrings connects us and you get a glimpse of my inner world in this way. It doesn't matter if you leave a comment or not (although I would be glad to read your thoughts!)...I want to thank you for just being there.

God Bless!

Light and Dark

I write my sixtieth post to mark Deepawali, the Hindu festival of lights. This year, while watching the preparations for this event, I started thinking about Light and what it means for us. In the process, my over-prosaic mind churned out a bundle of thoughts, which are offered below:

Deepawali is celebrated to mark the homecoming of Ram, the crown prince of ancient Ayodhya, who was exiled for fourteen years. On that evening, which also happened to be amaavasyaa (a moonless night), the people of Ayodhya lit row upon row of deeps (oil lamps) to light his path. Their attempt was to mark their joy by turning night into day. It is on this effort, that the little grey cells are currently focused.

Can any amount of oil lamps generate enough light to make the night seem like day? Even in the present day and age, do electric lights actually generate enough energy to make such an illusion possible? To the best of my knowledge, the answer is in the negative... What this means, therefore, is that the attempt to dispel the darkness is symbolic. It with this symbolism, that I am most impressed as well as inspired.

To my mind, the visual phenomenon of darkness is not of much consequence here. Darkness is the absence of light, nothing more. Without light, the rods and cones of our eyes are unstimulated and the phenomenon of vision does not occur. From a physiological perspective this is obviously very important, but this discussion will not concern itself with the physiological world. Instead, it is the spiritual significance of Deepawali, that presents itself as a particularly delectable morsel for the mind! :)

Darkness, to me, is much more than the troublesome impediment that makes it difficult to find the bathroom door in the middle of the night. It is transitory at best and easily dealt with by turning on a bedside lamp. Real darkness exists not in the external world, but in the human mind. It consists of ignorance, hatred, fear, anger and unhappiness (to name but a few). It is far more persistent and (oddly) unpredictable in its assaults on our sensibilities that its physically manifest cousin. Deepawali, for me, is a symbol of the human pledge to fight and banish this darkness, that lurks in the consciousness of almost every person.

"Tamasoma jyotirgamayah" - "From darkness, take me to light" - is the second part of the ancient Sanskrit prayer to the divine, that asks for human consciousness to be guided towards truth, light and immortality. The light that it asks for is the radiance of knowledge, peace, joy and hope. These are the only weapons that banish darkness from our minds...they are the tools that can permanently achieve the phenomenon of turning night into day.

The way I see it, when Ram returned to his kingdom, his coming was the answer to the prayers of his people, who spent fourteen long years hoping for his return. They lit their lamps to mark the way in which his advent dispelled their sorrow and kindled in its place, the expectation of joyous days ahead. Ram took samadhi in the Sarayu river, thousands of years ago, but the tradition that his homecoming started, remains till today. When we light our lamps, turn on the endless chains of twinkling electric lights and burst lakhs of rupees worth of crackers (which I still think is a senseless waste), we symbolically use light and sound to dispel darkness. The real magic happens within our minds, when we pray for the new year, asking for knowledge abundance, prosperity and joy. We envision ourselves and our loved ones as revelling in these gifts. Our happiness and laughter is powered by these dreams, which is why it effectively pierces the night and spreads the message of Deepawali. On this day, when we are surrounded be people whom we care about...when we give and receive tokens of affection from our friends and relatives, we suddenly become aware of how much happiness we get from the company of these people. Their smiles ease our cares, when necessary their shoulders bear the burden of our tears, and every moment spent with them is a blessing in itself. Which oil lamp can ever match the brightness that they bring to our lives? :)

Yes, darkness is indeed the absence of light. On Deepawali we make a commitment to fight against darkness both within and without. Whilst movements of the sun and the earth make the latter an inescapable phenomenon, we vow to never stray from the path that banishes the darkness of the human mind. In gaining knowledge and spreading knowledge, cherishing our families and friends and doing those little things that speak volumes lies the key to our ultimate enlightenment.

Happy Deepawali to us all! God Bless :)

Forgiveness

I just watched a wonderful film that made me think about a whole range of topics. I won't give you details about the film (in case you're one of those people for whom even the tiniest hint about an unwatched film just ruins the story for them) but I will share with you some of my musings on an issue that the film brought up...forgiveness and the trial of asking for it.

Why are some of us so hesitant to admit that we made a mistake? Why are we still more hesitant to ask someone else to forgive our errors? These are the two main questions that the little grey cells are buzzing with at present...

"Pride" seems to be the answer that comes most readily to mind. Somehow, over the course of life, many of us have come to believe that admitting that we erred, is akin to "losing face" before others, being depleted of personal power and the losing the sense of being effective. The sense of self is threatened when one comes to realise that he/she was wrong and that someone else had it right all along, or at least did not make the mistake that one silently regrets (now)! When it actually comes to apologising, the sense of threat from within is even stronger...it's supremely difficult to summon the courage to apologise to someone because one is unsure of whether or not the apology will be accepted. Even worse, there is always the question of whether or not the other(s) will perceive one as being weak for having said ¨sorry¨ or having asked for forgiveness. All of the above comes under the function of the ¨ego¨, as we know it in lay terms.

The way I see it, most of the above are assumptions, made on the basis of things we experienced in life...past incidents where we either went through or observed the dynamics of the complex phenomenon that is admitting a mistake, apologising for it and asking forgiveness. We add to our world-view a general ´format´ (if you will) of how a typical incident of this kinds works out and we expect it to endure across situations and people. Most often, we don´t even bother to test this hypothesis and just behave in a way that is consistent with this view.

The result is often quite unfortunate...at the extremes of this dimension of our existence are the tendency to beg forgiveness for just about everything (regardless of whether one is responsible or not) and the opposite tendency to mulishly deny any chance of being in the wrong. Both these ends are maladaptive and need to be addressed...but Iĺl save that for another time!

What I´m mainly concerned with here, is what makes the act of act of genuine apology and the consequence of true forgiveness so valuable for us humans...

Several years ago, I did something that really hurt some people I care about very much. I had acted acted in secret to hide something from them, but my deception had been unearthed quite by chance. I was quite young at the time and in my child's perception, the action had not been so grave. For the older people it affected, however, it was quite unnerving...Even for a child, there are few things worse than seeing tears in the eyes of someone they love and to be aware of the fact that they put them there...remorse grips one's heart in a clutch of steel and there is nothing one can do to get away from that pain. Pride, fear and a boat-load of other inhibitions have to be overcome before a one can admit one's folly and request forgiveness.

What is equally incomparable is the experience of having the one you hurt (however inadvertently), put an arm around you, look you in the eye and tell you that they don't hold your actions against you...

Forgiveness is the vessel that takes a penitent mind to a new level of advancement. It liberates one from the harassment of one's own self-deprecation and substitutes it with the hope and motivation to make amends. We've all done some things that we cannot ever make ourselves believe were right...but not all of us have been able to make a heartfelt apology or receive genuine forgiveness. For all such people, I pray that they receive this precious blessing as soon as possible...and I trust that sooner than later, they will! :)

God Bless

The Best Kind of "High"

I often tend to get into brief (but somehow quite stimulating) arguments with people on the topic of alcohol consumption. The arguments are not very intense, and usually involve me explaining to people why I don't indulge in "drinking"... I decided to share this with you as well...feel free to let me know what you think!

I am not against drinking (although I take a strong objection to alcoholism and its related horrors) and I don't believe that the (so called) social-drinker is a bad person. What I most frequently have to talk about is why I personally avoid alcoholic beverages and refuse to accompany even good friends while they enjoy a peg or two.

My basic rationale is this... the various types alcohol (also nicotine and drugs) are substances that are ingested to alter one's consciousness. When consumed they make one feel lighter, more relaxed, altogether merrier (apparently there are other less mentionable effects as well, but nevermind those for now!) etc. So, they're usually the beverage of choice when people want to unwind and get rid of the stress and strain of work and a hundred other little things. Many people I know like to share a few drinks with some friends and spend some time enjoying the "high" that they get as a result. The "high" is the altered state of consciousness, reportedly very pleasant at the time but also the predecessor of a subsequent 'hangover' in most cases! :) While it lasts, people feel great...they can converse and share their thoughts easily, feel more comfortable letting their hair down etc. The reasons for which the prospect of this 'high' don't appeal to me are (a) I have to drink something that tastes ridiculously vile in order to achieve it (b) it's not something that I can't obtain through other 'no-need-to-swallow' means (c) I don't want any substance altering my consciousness, for better or for worse and (d) whatever "high" the drink is supposed to provide for me, I already possess in a more sophisticated, long-lasting and 'side-effect-free' form, as I will just explain!

To be conscious is a gift that must be nurtured from within. Happiness can only last if it's source is inside a person...anything joy that is rooted in externalities is bound to end, no matter how intense it is. How flippant and flitting is the happiness or the feeling of lightness that can come from just a glass-full of drink or a few puffs of smoke! It is a pallid and watery substitute for magnitude of the same feelings when they are generated from the divinity that is in us all. I have a friend who puts it very well, when she exclaims "I'm high on life!!!" I just love that line, because it sums up in four little words, an entire philosophy that she exemplifies. This friend of mine is the very picture of happiness and contentment. She can spread good cheer wherever she goes...fifteen minutes in her presence and people start feeling more at ease, communicate with steadily diminishing restraint and enjoy themselves thoroughly, regardless of whether or not there are drinks to be had. While she is special to me, I am certain that she is not the only person with this ability. She is just someone who has come to understand that nothing from the outside world can make her happy if she cannot draw happiness out of her own personal/internal world.

When I'm with a good friend, I'm entirely engrossed in how happy it makes me feel just to be with him or her. His/her presence and company is all that I'm interested in...his/her affection and involvement in my life is what I cherish. Each second of happiness that comes from our interaction feels more real and last infinitely longer (even when it is a memory to be retrieved later) that any drink possibly could. So, I absolutely refuse to let anything as meagre as a drink come in the way of that feeling...I mean, what on earth do I need that for? I can be high on friendship! :)

Besides my family and friends, I think that life is full of things that make you feel better than the most sophisticated alcohol ever could...music is one of them. My heart goes out to the musician who needs to down a few pegs or smoke-up before a performance. He/she has simply not been able to gain a true picture of what music is all about. Good music is the ultimate high...if you understand it well and can immerse yourself in it, music elevates your consciousness more than the finest of drinks ever could.

So, to sum it up, good friends, good music, good food, good conversation...these are the things I need to get "high", no intoxicant is ever going to come even near the sheer delight that I get from these things, which, with God's grace, are abundantly available in my life (my mother will be quick to point out at this point that I tend to overdo my 'high' when it comes to the food part! lol). :)

"Cheers!"

A Very Special Birthday

Tomorrow, at the stroke of midnight, millions of people will raise their voices in a joyful uproar. Conches will be sounded, bells will ring ceaselessly, all kinds of drums will be beaten and the reverberations of countless dancing feet will be felt by the earth. A strange wave of enchantment will spread over India in that moment, when devotees celebrate the birth of Krishna, the eighth incarnation of Vishnu. I will be one amongst those people...

I've grown up on a literary diet of various accounts of Hindu mythology, a topic that I devour most voraciously even today, if given half a chance. From the common Amar Chitra Katha series to encyclopedias of myths and legends (and, of course, the eternal Ramayan and Mahabharath series that used to appear on Doordarshan), I sampled everything, leaping from the ocean of one imaginal world to the thrilling heights of another, in a tireless sequence.

Needless to say, the stories of Krishna were some of the most gripping and colourful narratives that a child could be entertained with. It didn't matter whether my grandmother recited them from memory or my father read them aloud to me from a brightly illustrated storybook, their effect on me was enduring. Each tale coloured my mind with fresh hues...fired my imagination with new ideas. Till date, they constitute some of the best memories that are associated with my childhood.

As a child, the aspect of these stories that captivated me, was their supernatural nature...the promise of magic and of the protagonist being able to do the unthinkable and thereby achieve a deified state. Today, these stories still hold me in their sway, but instead of their magical flavour, what binds me to them is the infinite learning that is woven into their symbolism. From the accounts of Krishna's life, for instance, I learn about leadership, self-awareness, statecraft, devotion and the value of unconditional love (amongst several other things). Be it in the legends of the feats he accomplished as a child those associated with his epic role in the Mahabharata, Krishna's life is brimming with lessons for any who would learn of it.

Krishna is one of the few deities whose life is described (in devoted details) right from birth to demise. It is perhaps because of this 'documentation' in prose, poetry, music, art, dance etc. that the cowherd of yore still maintains his hold over the hearts of millions, centuries after he shed his corporeal form. When you learn about his life, you can chase the vibrant toddler who made the courtyards of his home resound with the little bells he wore on his feet and waist, listen to the young cowherd play the flute in order to mesmerise all living things, travel with him on his demon-slaying excursions, listen to him enlighten Arjun on Kurukshetra and follow him as he balances the forces of good and evil on earth... There is something just about anyone can identify with, regardless of age, gender or any other tiresome demographics!

Some critics question the deified status of Krishna, preferring to believe instead that he was a charismatic politician and strategist. While I don't criticise their notions, I do believe that if any mortal can command the attraction and following that Krishna commands till this day, then that individual deserves to be deified. No politician, military general or religious leader has held the hearts of people for generation upon generation following his/her demise, in the way that Krishna has...this feat in itself is supernatural and admirable.

Just before I end this stream of thought, I would like to share (and translate) my Guru, Pt. Ashok Kumar's wonderful composition in Raag Malkauns which says:

Gaavo hari naam,

Sundara Shyaam bhajata sakala,

Sura, nara, muni jana

Kamala nayana, Shesha shayana

Nita pujata jogi jana

Prema Rasiyaa ko prema dhaam.

(Meaning: The name of Hari (Krishna), the beautiful one, who is dark of skin, is sung by the devas, men and sages.
He, who is an incarnation of Vishnu -the one who reclines on the cosmic serpent, Sheshnaag- is worshipped by the yogis. He is the epitome of pure, unconditional love, that the poet aspires to attain.)

God Bless!

Tears

The same friend I mentioned in the previous post, recently asked me a question that fired another chain of thought. This time, the words were spoken during a prolonged and relaxed conversation that housed many interesting topics. He asked me, "...why don't men cry?"

"Hah!" exclaimed the psychologist within me, as he drew upon psychoanalysis, social learning theory, reinforcement theory and a fair amount of self-wrought notions, to gush out some reply, which hopefully answered the above question. The dreamy thinker in me, however, was already thinking about the contents of this post! This is what he had to say...

I've always struggled to discover why we deny a man his tears...it is, in my opinion, one of the most irresponsible and unfair lessons that a boy is taught by just about every agent that contributes to his development (family, friends, 'education'...the works!). Today, if a male celebrity admits that he is emotional, it is enough to make some desperate reporter a quick buck, once he or she has written a poorly exaggerated account of it. The issue is considered interesting enough for less-than-competent tabloids and magazines to actually ask them to recount the last time they cried! In short, tears in a man's eyes, unless provoked by natural or unnatural calamities (and mind, some don't even consider these as sufficient criteria), are unusual and must not go unnoticed...

Why is this so? Why should a man's tears be regarded as so uncharacteristic? Why does something catastrophic need to occur before a man cries? What about tears of happiness...don't men deserve them? For heaven's sake, I've actually known men who can count the number of times they've shed a tear or two in the last decade(s)!

"Boys don't cry!", "Stop crying like a little girl", "Crybaby!" ,"Sissy!"...the list just goes on an on and you can take your pick from the collection of jibes used to teach a little boy that he does not have a right to express his sadness through tears. So, he learns instead, to bottle-up his pain, hiding most of his experiences of unhappiness in the secret confines of his being...a lonely place where the tears may be shed, but there is nobody to comfort the one who sheds them. Soon, the aspect of bottling up negative emotions transfers to the expression of emotion in general (regardless of valence). Now, you get the typical man who, at a social gathering, cannot speak on anything beyond work, politics, the stock market and other dry topics. He is the person who cannot understand why his wife wants them to communicate some more...having never realised that communication happens at more than one level...and that tension release cannot be achieved permanently if the golf-course or a punching bag is the only listener you have!

While I was in college, one of my favourite teachers read out a passage from a book which contained a therapist's accounts of sessions with his clients. I will never forget the eye-opening account of how a suave, controlled and intellectual male client beat a pillow to shreds with a baseball bat when the therapist asked him to think that the pillow represented a person who had hurt him very much (and asked him to express how he felt about her). The narrative was just about one person, but the scary thing is that there are millions more like him...people in whom a mistrust of their own feelings has been indoctrinated from their earliest days. It is part of a constellation of injustices and wrongdoings that leads to the development of both, the repressed (and inexpressive) man as well as the pathological and criminal one.

Have you ever paid attention to the feeling of lightness that remains after you've cried? You don't feel like a million dollars, that's certain, but at least you don't feel like a tonne of bricks is parked on your chest! They don't say "get it off your chest" for nothing, you know!

The way I see it, crying helps you get over a significant part of the pain after which you can process things a little more rationally...it's normal, it's adaptive and it's essential. I'm not suggesting that we cry for each and everything that goes wrong in our lives...things don't happen that way. What I'm suggesting is that men give themselves the space to cry when they feel wounded emotionally, without having to feel guilty or emasculated as a result! As a man, I should be able to bawl my lungs out, if it'll help me process my unhappiness...and not feel judged for it. Our tears have meaning. They deserve to be released, even if there is nobody else to witness or value them.

Think about it...

It's All Good!

A couple of days ago, I was travelling in a public bus along with a friend, when something unpleasant happened. I won't go into the details of that, but I will share with you the fact that my friend was disapproving with my reactions to the events, which mainly centred around trusting the intentions of a complete stranger. According to him, I was being quite childish because I preferred to believe that an unknown person could be trusted so easily. I respect my friend a lot and I do know that he had my best interests at heart when he candidly expressed his disgruntlement with my belief in the basic goodness of all people. In fact, it was his remark - "there is very little good left in the world" - which got me thinking and started me off on this post!

Call me an optimistic fool if you will, but I believe that Carl Rogers got it right when he spoke about the inherent good that lies in all men and women. I know the world is full of dangers for the unwary and the gullible (and I would like to think that I am neither) but nevertheless, I see too many instances of positivity around me to cast aside my belief completely. Yes, I've been cheated before, even robbed, back-stabbed etc. but I've also found affection in the unlikeliest places, been helped by complete strangers, bonded with people radically unlike myself...I take all that and more as enough evidence to believe that the world isn't as formidable a place as we make it seem.

Today is the first anniversary of "Terrible Tuesday" (26th July 2005). Last year on this very day, the city of Mumbai was hit by the most torrential rains it has ever witnessed. Drains overflowed, roads got flooded, landslides happened, double-decker buses gradually vanished from sight as water inexorably choked the city. Many lives were lost, children were orphaned and entire livelihoods destroyed in the brief span of a day. I was there in the thick of that chaos, stranded in a public bus and watching in utter confusion as the water level crept up into my bus so that I couldn't see my feet anymore. Those who know me well, would probably smile (however briefly) when they read this because they know how much I detest getting my feet dirty; it would be quite easy for them to imagine my profound agitation at getting my feet dirtied by the muckiest water imaginable and that too in a public bus, where that water should never have been able to reach in the first place!

The three and a half hour walk home was a nightmare, to say the least. The rain pelted one in the face incessantly, filthy water swirled about at chest high or knee high levels (dead rats, garbage and goodness knows what else bobbed about in it, so believe me... it was FILTHY!), umbrellas broke and were torn out of their owners' hands by a merciless wind...and that's not even half of the trauma...Women and children were crying and the heftiest man's teeth chattered as he waded through the water...

It was at this time, with dismay and agony screaming madly in my ears, that I witnessed the true power of the human spirit. Yes, there were those that despaired of their condition and all but gave up their efforts to reach safety...but for each one like that, there were two others who rallied around and supported him. The people of the localities through which I passed, were all out on the streets, wading through the water and helping the hapless pedestrians to steer clear of the potholes and manholes. They cordoned off safer paths with rope and guided us into them; owners of small restaurants emptied their stocks of food without a thought, just to feed the miserable folk who stumbled past their establishments; families fortunate enough to have their property spared were out in small rescue teams, dispensing medicines, food etc.

When I think of all this, I simply cannot cast aside my faith in people. Each one of us has a spark of the divine within...it's just there! Sometimes horrible things happen to people (we'll keep that for another discussion!), which can mask the inherent divinity that they have...so much so that they themselves become entirely ignorant of it. However, shutting your eyes doesn't end the sunshine and ignoring your basic goodness doesn't mean it's not there! Sometimes we need to be shaken up a little to realise what we're capable of...at other times just a small nudge is enough. Moreover, the smallest things are always there to remind you of how much goodness there is in the world...take for example my friend, mentioned in the first paragraph; although I was in no mood to contest his stance on the issue, from the corner of my eye I saw him making funny faces at the baby a lady was holding in the seat in front of our own. This apparently gruff fellow was making the baby smile effortlessly, much to the delight of her parents...and it looked wonderful. Which reminds me...have you ever noticed that nobody inspires trust more than a baby? If you ever take an infant into your arms, it places itself in your care so completely, that you just cannot help want to look after it...there is nothing that you wouldn't do in order to maintain the unconditional faith that the precious little being vests in you! :)

The good in man is everywhere, one has just got to be slightly observant. I see it everyday in some form or the other. What about you?

A Handshake Between Souls

I love smiling...so much so, that there are some people who think I take it to extremes! Not that I let their remarks bother me...as long as I'm reasonably certain that I don't have the remnants of my last meal on my teeth, there is precious little that can stop me from grinning.

I discovered the magic of the human smile in a fantastic story by Antoine de Saint Exupery in the first volume of "Chicken Soup for the Soul". If you haven't read it, I recommend that you do so at the soonest possible; it is truly a life-changing narrative, despite the brevity of its content. Ever since I read it, it became a lot easier to smile...and to mean it. The smile that I'm talking about is not the sarcastic curl of the lip, the self-important smirk or the forced grimaces that we have to put on when forced to attend social gatherings that we had to be dragged to, kicking and screaming. What I'm talking about is the genuine phenomenon, seen most profusely in babies' faces, typically when a loved caregiver comes into contact with them. That, without question, is the truest form of a smile...the instantaneous point of contact between two spirits and there is nothing else quite like it. Have you ever paid attention to the wave of affection that flows into you when a child's face lights up at the sight of your face? If you have, you will know when I say that it is simply overwhelming! When was the last time you experienced that with another person, regardless of his/her age?

To put it simply...I smile a LOT! At friends, at family, at parents pushing their toddlers around the supermarket in the shopping carts, at the elderly people I encounter in a park...u name the person and I've flashed my (reasonably white) teeth at them!

Which reminds me, one of the things I've come to cherish is a quaint relationship that revolves only around a smile...

There is an apartment block not too far from mine, in the residential complex in which I live. One of the short-cuts I take to reach the main road, takes me to the gate of this apartment block, where I must pass the security post. It is at this point, which I cross in about 5 seconds, that I meet the old watchman of who mans the post. I've passed by him countless times over the last few years and I still don't know his name (if he knows mine you could knock me over with a feather!). I've never spoken a single word to him and he has never uttered a sound in my presence either. Yet, somehow, if I don't see him when I pass through those gates, I get the feeling that something is missing...an odd sense of incompleteness...

I don't remember when it first started, but each time we see each other, we just smile...and he's got one of the most peaceful and affectionate smiles you could imagine. It stretches from ear to ear and reaches his eyes instantly... and I cannot help but reciprocate it, in kind! This grey-haired fellow in his black watchman's uniform, trimmed with red, has the uncanny ability to add a touch of magic to my life in the brief span of time in which I walk past him. It just makes me feel special, somehow and instantly takes away the feeling of existential isolation that occurs when one is away from the company of kith and kin or not-so-far-away from the 'madding crowd'.

So, the next time you smile, try smiling at someone you don't know at all (if nothing else, do it humour me!)... and do it like it's going out of fashion in the next minute...believe me, you'll be pleasantly surprised when a complete stranger returns it so fully that you wonder if you've met before!