Of bhakti and prem....a bond close to my heart... (Spirituality and Love)

  Out beyond ideas of wrong and right, there is a field.

  I will meet you there.

  Rumi

My first ever engagement with Rumi, (I thought then it was Roomy) was when I was a teenager. I saw the The Rumi Darwaza,  also  known as the Turkish Gate, in Lucknow, Utta Pradesh, India. Rumi Darwaza is an imposing gateway which was built under the patronage of Nawab Asaf-Ud-dowlah in 1784. Oh! how I knew not at the time the meaning it would come to hold for me in later years of my life.

Rumi Darwaza, Lucknow: Photo Credits: Luknowcity.org

And then Rumi lay dormant somewhere in  my memory......

It is only recently that I became engaged in Rumi yet again, when I came across some verses that moved me deeply, and I realized how meaningful and powerful the verses are for the individual and the state of the world at large today.I say engaged “in” 

Rumi  and not “with” Rumi, because once you get introduced to Rumi there is no way that you stay a separate entity than his words. To become 'one' with poetry, nature, love, mysticism, music…..that is the true meaning of spirituality, of life, and one can only ever be “in” the meaning not “with” it.

Rumi was born on the Eastern shores of the Persian Empire on September 30, 1207, in the city of Balkh in what is now Afghanistan and finally settled in the town of Konya (he is buried here too)  in what is now Turkey. (Mental note: to visit soon) Today all three nations: Iran, Turkey and Afghanistan claim him as their national poet. In fact none of these countries as they are today actually existed back in the time of Rumi. Iran was the Persian Empire, a monarchy much larger than what it is today. It included all of today's Iran and Afghanistan also parts of Pakistan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Turkey and Iraq. Turkey had not yet formed then and Afghanistan was part of the Khorasan Province in the old Persian Empire.

Rumi recited poetry for about 25 years wrote ~70,000 verses in which he has covered every morsel of emotion, thought, idea and topic under the sun!

The general theme of Rumi's thought, like that of other mystic and Sufi poets of Persian literature, is essentially that of the concept of a union with his beloved (the primal root) from whom he has been cut off and become aloof — and his longing and desire to restore it.

Rumi believed passionately in the use of music, poetry and dance as a path for reaching God. For Rumi, music helped devotees to focus their whole being on the divine and to do this so intensely that the soul was both destroyed and resurrected.

In other verses Rumi describes in detail the universal message of love:

The lover’s cause is separate from all other causes
Love is the astrolabe of God's mysteries.

If we look closely we see elements of oneness with the creator and humanly love so intertwined in his works.....

One of the verses close to my heart……

I choose to love you in silence, for in silence I find no rejection.
I choose to love you in loneliness, for in loneliness no one owns you but me.
I choose to adore you from a distance, for distance will shield me from pain.
I choose to kiss you in the wind, for the wind is gentler than my lips.
I choose to hold you in my dreams, for in my dreams, you have no end.

~Rumi

Likh likh ke yaad karo: Write and write again to learn.

It's been a long time and now I'm coming back home...I've been away now, oh! how....

Happy to blog after a long break....

2014, an evening, and my 12year old is revising something. "Beta, (my dear child) I hear myself saying, do take a register (notebook) and write your answers till you know them well.This is the way to revise your lesson" 

Rewind  to 1987,  I hear his voice from somewhere "Praachi beta, likh-likh ke yaad karo": "My dear child, Praachi, write and write again till you have the lesson learnt by heart". How many long brown registers I filled up writing and rewriting my lessons. I still remember some of the answers by heart! Till date my father writes in his calligarphic handwriting...aaah how I love the small letters....a daily diary, of things he reads, of a new word he makes sure he learns each day. And I think I too do the same, well, let's be honest, in my case, on most days.

Writing in your own hand as opposed to the cut and paste culture of collecting information today....hmmmmm.

Here is a link to a good post I just read on Tumblr and it brought into perspective my above thoughts.In fact it inspired me to pen this note which was hidden somewhere in the crevices of the mind but was not finding the light of day.

http://tj-shin.tumblr.com/post/107747427246/best-way-to-improve-skill-to-visualize-information

Thank you Mr.Shin for the share :)


Well, here they are, the fabulous person who taught me to write regularly in my own hand, "Roz thoda-thoda likho": "Write a few lines each day" (the habit sticks to this day!!) and the person I insist write a little each day in her own hand :) Confusing eh? Oh! Well.

                     Happy writing folks! Till next time then!

I Have A Dream | Ilina Gandhi | Friends of Art | Contemporary Arts Week

Let's spend the night together......

When the children they are an out..... partying, mommies well, they are an up.....reading. And what better for company.... With my favourite tulsi chai and flaxseed 

Hey! It's not a fight!!

Why does every suggestion of following rules in our culture become a fight?

I wonder?

I stand many an evening in the back porch of my home facing a large lawn requesting different groups of children and many parents too, to please heed the rules and play badminton, frisbee, soft ball etc. discussing with them how it is dangerous to the young babies out with their grandparents or ayahs if a big ball were to come flying and hit them.

Most of the days there is argument "Aunty it will not happen we will be careful etc" Äunty why should we stop playing, we have no park here".  I Agree. But, it doesn't change the fact that a ball is a ball and a strong kick many a times hits the lamps in the lawn shattering it's connecting wires.

Many a time the balls have come flying into my balcony.Good no one got hit.....so far.

My husband warns me at times..."Let it be, let them play, some one might get nasty and bitter with you.Why do you have to guard all the lamps in the lawn and all the bachhas in the prams or the elderly aunty taking a walk, no one else complains, why do you?" So, some days I let it be and try to enjoy the weather.

This evening too I stood in my porch (pic above) watching some sweet children playing in the park with a football (It had rained there are wires around that lamp I thought) in my usual way called out to the kids and said " beta, this is not the right place to play with a football, do you have badminton rackets,I too want to play with you?' It was a pleasant evening just after the much awaited showers.

Three maids, who were with this group of 7-12year olds sat chatting amongst themselves on the bench. I told them, help the children understand : aap samjhao bacchon ko lamps ke paas ball na kheilein, aaj barsaat hui hai, current bhi lag sakta hai" (it has rained heavily today, they are playing right next to the lamp, can even get electrocuted' ...maids responses: total ignore, looked away into horizon...I loudly said " if you will not explain to the kids I will have to call a guard and tell the kids the rules". 

Suddenly a mother appears with her son whose football it was (I am guessing) and stomps towards where the kids had been playing telling her son...you play.Her entire body language suggested animosity...."how dare you tell my son not to play.She flayed her hands at me in a "bahut ho gaya chup raho" silence...I am in charge here!" when I had not even said anything to her..she was acting on behest of her 7/8/9 year old kid "aunty ne khelne ke liye manaa liya hai" aunty has forbidden me to play. I spoke up "It is not a fight, I am not fighting with you..I just want that the children should play a safer game and not a ball game" 

The lady's husband suddenly appears in his first floor balcony and says loudly across the lawn to me "This is my property" he hollered at me across the lawn. "Yes, and the lamp is also your lamp,can break... the kid is your kid....can get.... He replied magnanimously " I don't know if you are on rent or owner here, but this property is mine and if the lamp breaks I will (thumping chest) pay for it" this was on repeat so I quickly gave in, what does one say or do? " You go right ahead sir and get your kids to play football here, do join for a cup of tea sometime" I said. Maybe over a friendly cup of tea he will not feel that I am his enemy and that we have to fight and make a huge issue about teaching our young ones some basics also keeping them safe in the process.I was contemplating going over and amicably discussing but better sense prevailed.

It does not matter who they are, who yelled at me,spoiling a perfectly blessed cool evening.I feel sad that as humans we are not trusting of each other at all.Why would the parents feel I was trying to be bigger then them.They knew they were teaching their kids to break rules and disobey. The is the reason for their anger.The ego.Why would they not feel the need to be friends with me, after all all these children play in front of my eyes every day.If ever anything were to happen to any of them while playing I will be the nearest and the first one to run and protect and take care of any of them if anyone were to get hurt or well....... in my mind the open wires in the lawns are a big electricity hazard especially for kids lost in their games to know where they are stepping.......but that is another story.

These are a few of my favourite reads......

There is a song by Cliff Richard called "Wired for Sound"....This is post like that song. I like different books for different reasons. How does one choose ones favourite books? And my liking for a book at a particular time depends entirely on my mood and my need at that given moment.

I like “Little women by Mary Alcot” because I learn to be ‘content’, just reading it, simple lives, simple joys…I love the way the mother of the girls goes from neighbor to neighbor helping everyone and being “like” a working mother and yet doing so much good to society and for that how the girls love and respect her.Yes, it forms a part of my favorites list. 

But, on other days a favourite would be a ‘Rats, sorry King Rat by James Clavell’ when my mood and need would be to feel one with the strife of war and to be grateful for my own secure cocoon.

 Another state of mind necessitates historical, period books such as ‘The Pillars of the Earth’ by Ken Follett wherein the slow shift from religion to science and from orthodox thinking to modern thought is brilliantly captured by Follett in the medical and (technological) architectural processes that shaped post medieval Europe and as a Sociologist I much enjoy this kind of reading of society. 

Another favourite and a book I saw being read and reread by my father when I was a little girl (and even today, I do hope to inherit his writing skills, he maintais a diary of notes of and from his favourite reads!!, what a man!!) is ‘The Passions of the Mind” by Irving Stone and also “The Agony and the Ecstacy” and “Lust for Life” by the same author.These are my favourites even though I can recall only some portions of them and I can safely admit that they have not been read by me ‘cover to cover’ but yes, they are part of my favorite list.That makes six.

I often find myself telling anecdotes from another favourite “Maus” which is an interesting graphic novel by Art Spiegelman, this is usually when I am in a ‘teach my kids the value of stuff and the necessity to believe in the worthiness of frugality’ mood.I appreciate how the father of the protagonist uses his teabags more than ten times during the course of the day as this was what they would do during his time at Auschwitz. He would sometimes even use the same teabag the whole month (all from memory so might be wrong about exact anecdote).I now use my tea bags at least four times a day (much to some of my friends chagrin)

 So, you see there are different things one takes back from books that come to make it ones favourite. I like "Nirmala" by Premchand for it laid the foundation for my interest in Sociology and social commentary when I was very very young....and many many many more ……..maybe I should stop

Rolling, rolling, rolling on the river.......

In "The Empire and Expeditions of Alexander the Great" (1833. Retrieved 2013) there is a discussion of the The Beas River (in north India) which marks the eastern-most border of Alexander the Great's conquests in 326 BC. 

The Beas River is a powerful river, a river to behold!! Said  I when I felt it gushing past me and all around me: "such an angry river this is" and angry it was!! 

The Beas rises in the Himalayas in central Himachal Pradesh, India, and flows for some 470 kilometres!!! Just imagine!! (290 mi) to the Sutlej River in the Indian state of Punjab.

 Interestingly the Beas was the river which created problems in Alexander's invasion of India. His troops mutinied here in 326 BCE, refusing to go any further; they had been away from home for eight years. Alexander shut himself in his tent for three days, but when his men did not change their desires he gave in.

In the 20th Century, it is this same Beas river which was developed under the Beas Project for irrigation and hydroelectric power generation purposes.The second-phase Pong Dam was completed in 1974 followed by the first-phase 140 km (87 mi) upstream,Pandoh Dam in 1977. I got a chance to see this dam just recently. And here it is, the absolutely fantastic Pandoh Dam in all it's glory:

How minuscule one feels in the splendor of nature.......More soon, from the glorious land of the glorious River Beas....the capital in the river as it is not just a river it is a River and the emphasis it deserve like no other!!

Unaa Paloma Blancaaa......

I'm just a bird in the sky...
Unaa paloma blancaaa...over the mountains I fly....
when the sun shines on the mountains
and the night is on the run...
it's a new day it's a new way...
and I fly up to the sun.....

 A picnic is a state of mind.....
Someone asked me where are you headed? Where is this picnic you are planning to go to over the weekend...
Well, I thought and guess this is what I found....

It's a picnic to have the kids around the entire day, their friends....running around, going up and down each other's homes, collecting flowers....giving the dog a bath and him sitting in the sun with his friend, the lion!!...children having a free hand in making junk food for themselves (read maggi) baking cake, mucking up the bedspreads in the rooms, leaving the tv running all day with noone really watching..... books, chalks, stuff  strewn on the table, the sofa, leaving the rocking chair crooked..cushions not in place...shoe marks all over the floor...someone or other yelling to shut the doors, reduce the music volume...............yes, picnic is indeed a state of mind.

Some kinda druid dudes lifting the veil....

To heal the body, first heal the mind....

Today is the day for observation.
Today I have to observe my mind. Be conscious of my thoughts.
Where does my mind wander naturally?
Into fear or fantasy?
Humor or stress? 
Irritability or contentment?
Anger or acceptance?
Jealousy or satisfaction?
Today I will follow my mind, and observe where it goes to feed itself.
Do I like what I see?
Do I like what I think?
Must reflect today on the wanderings of my mind.

Heal the mind to heal the body.

....playing those mind games together....
pushing the barriers planting the seeds...
                                                                                   Just playing those mind games...

Strange days indeed.....

Happiness has been present yes, but there has been a constant, dull, slow sadness...
but then how long can one endure sadness?
one has to move on...
there is too much else in life than what makes one sad...
we may not understand the ways of the world or the ways in which the almighty operates...
the questions always remain...to come back and haunt us...
 just when we think the answers don't matter...

'Acceptance brings relief'

 Is not all of the above a part of everyone's lives at some point or the other? And do we all not learn in our own ways to accept? Acceptance of one's past, of the current situation one is in, of the things we cannot answer or can not change, brings in it's wake relief. A certain unburdening, a peacefulness we all want but many a times do not consciously know, we seek.

The past is gone
It went by like dusk to dawn
Isn't that the way
Everybody's got their dues in life to pay...

Conscious awareness of today, of the present, of the moment reiterates that each day is a new beginning. Each day of abstaining from the past offers us a chance to look ahead with hope. Conscious awareness of the power that is within us to move on strengthens us moment by moment, slowly but surely.