Life in nano-distances

I think of the time you are not here beside me. That's the time i am thinking of you all the time but i don't miss you at all. For that to happen you have to be away from me and that you never are. When i think of you, i just close my eyes and in my mind i can see clearly what you are doing every moment of your life. Its almost as if i am right beside you as you spend your day.

Therefore, its really does not matter where you really are or how far, for once i give my thoughts wings, there is no place such as far away.

Dreamchasing

The good thing about dreamchasing is that one needs no further motivation. The dream does it all by itself. It beckons, it goads, it inspires and even disciplines. It is said that if you dream long enough then you will get there. The trick is to dream long enough. But how long is long enough? This question reminds me of Archimedes when he spoke of the power of cantilever and said something like 'give me a pole long enough and i will lift the earth with just my bare hands'. Yeah sure... but i bet it will have to be a very long pole..... very very long.

But then there are people out there who keep looking for this long pole, some even find it and in their own way end up lifting the earth with just their bare hands.

Manhji, a small time farmer in a remote village somewhere out there, is one such man. It seems that his little village is separated from the cultivable lands by a rugged hill and that all the farmers have to cross this hill to get to their fields. The trek is long, tough and dangerous and many a villager slipped on the slippery slope and was hurt trying to get to or from his fields.

One such villager was a petite women who slipped and broke her ankle while trying to fetch her husband's lunch as he toiled across in the fields. The very next day, Manhji, the husband, sold all the goats he had and traded them in for a chisel, a hammer and some rope. He then set about chiseling the sheer rock face intending to cut a safe and direct path through to the fields. It looked a funny sight, a man dwarfed by the 300 ft rock wall, hammering away at the formidable rockface with little more than a small chisel and a puny little hammer. He worked day and night, long hours, caring for nothing else, many a times even forgetting to eat. Villagers jeered at him, called him names but he just kept at it. Day after day, month after month, year after year. It took him 22 years to do it but one day he stood on the other side looking at all the fields. Behind him was a path he tore through the rockface straight to his village.

22 years is a long time to chase a dream. But ask Manhji and he will tell you how it was longer than what meets the eye.

When love and hate collide

One meets friends all the time, but one will rarely meet an enemy. One has to make a enemy. Its a deliberate act. One can make a friend without trying but never an enemy.

Read on...

There is this interesting story I once heard. Its a story about two clans, bitterly opposed to each other for as long as one could remember. The animosity was so old that no one really knew why and where all the bad blood began. Generations upon generations the animosity carried on, flamed every once in a while by some act of atrocity and carnage. The children born to these clans inherited hate... their enemies were made for them, sort of hard coded into their brains.

In this world of mutual hatred came of age a boy and a girl and fell in love with each other. Unfortunately they belonged to opposing sides so their love was doomed. They chose to die rather than let their love be sacrificed. When the final moment came they made one last desperate plea for peace but it was lost in a macabre swishing of swords... blood flowed...

Its a very old story but people still point out the spot where the two lovers were slain. Every year many gather there to celebrate the unrequited love. Nobody now remembers what eventually happened to the two clans.

I think i can guess... it must have taken a long long time but eventually the plea of the two young lovers was heard.

Speaking with Silence

Ever wondered how uneasy most of us are when conversations lulls into silence. How we fidget, hem and haw, often saying whatever comes to mind so long as the silence is kept at bay.

I often wonder why? Is it because we live in constant fear of being judged and we think that if the other person is silent that's because he or she is thinking and thereby forming an opinion about you? Is that why we leap to break the silence so that we can, by our words and thoughts, influence his or her thought process? I think that is what it is.

When we overcome this fear of being judged, we overcome the need to talk. We then are comfortable with silence. Comfortable with not knowing what the other person is thinking about you. Unlike the silence between strangers, which is uncomfortable and begging to be broken, this silence is enduring and likes to go on and on...

Someday you and I will sit all day and not say a thing. Wont that be a day to remember? I bet it will be.

Sunset Musings

The sun has set on 2006 and my thoughts wander and wonder. Where will I be in 2007 ? What will i be doing?

"Giving Back"

Giving back to my family... my wife, my daughter, my sisters, my parents. Giving back the love and care, the sense that i am always there.

Giving back to my community... my friends, my neighbours, my acquaintances. Giving back the shared joys and accommodations, the helping hand, the sense of responsibility and accountability.

Giving back to my country... my fellow citizens, especially the one's whom opportunity has not favoured as much. The women, the children, the old and the unemployed. Give back my time, my experiences, my learnings and a bit of my fortune. Empower, educate, reassure and re-employ.

Giving back to my mother earth.... my environment, my lands, my nature. Giving back the old way, less abuse, less plunder, less greed. Giving back the respect for the natural order, the belief that co-existence is not just about us humans living in harmony but about letting go of the sense that we, as humans, have the right to do what we feel with all that surrounds us.

Om.

Fishing for opportunities

There was an old fisherman who used to say that life is full of opportunities but that not all opportunities were meant for you. He said that think of life like a lake full of fish. All the fishes are there to be taken but not all will be caught. A fisherman can only look for a good spot and then cast his net. Most fishes will get away, maybe all. Maybe a few will be caught. The one's that are caught are the fishes for you. A good fisherman never rues the one's that got away but takes what he has caught. These he carefully and meticulously weighs, scales, guts, cleans, slices, and then stores them. Having done all that he then hopes that someone will buy his fish. If that happens then he knows he has taken full advantage of the 'fish' that he happened to catch.

So it is with life. We have opportunities swirling around us all the time and its natural to want to reach out and grab each of them. But no matter how hard you try, most of them will pass you by. When that happens, there is no point is ruing the missed opportunities, that way more of them will pass you by. After all, life is not about the one that got away but about what you did with the one that you caught.

Lost Paradise

In the beginning divinity was part of our nature but as time went by we humans abused our divinity more and more till eventually the gods decided to take the divinity away from us. It fell upon Bhrahma to invoke his powers and take away our divine aspects. He did it reluctantly but once he did it he had a problem. Where is he supposed to hide this divinity so that we humans wouldn't find it again.

Vishnu said that there was no point burying it deep within Mother Earth as he was sure that no matter how deep they buried it we humans would eventually dig it out. He also said that there was no point in throwing it far into the sea as we would eventually find a way to swim out and get it. Mahesh looked at Bhrahma and Vishnu and added that there was also no point in hiding it on top of the tallest mountain as we would eventually get there too.

So all three pondered long and hard. There seemed to be no place deep enough, far enough or high enough for this divinity to be hidden safely. Suddenly Bhrahma's eyes lit up and he exclaimed, "I know just the place where we can hide divinity and it will be safe there. Its safe there not because man cannot find it, its safe because he wont look for it there."

So saying, Bhrahma took the divinity and placed it deep within each man's soul.

Since that day each of us has that divinity within us that we keep looking for everywhere.

Finding heroes

Finding heroes is not really difficult, the tough part is beginning to look for them. Its an ego thing, you have to overcome this ego by acknowledging the fact that there are people out there who did things better than you ever could. Once that is done then you will find heroes all around you....

There is this vagabond who spends his time riding trains. He once noticed that quite a few children made a living selling bits and things on the train. It was obvious to him that these kids had no future, that by and by these kids would get sucked deeper and deeper into the vortex of circumstances, eventually ending up just like him. So he began teaching these kids in between stations once they had done their selling. Basic stuff. He has been doing this now for several years and a few of his 'students' have since gone on to take up formal education and make something of their lives...

There is a village, back of beyond. Suffering from years of drought, the village and the villagers crumbled. The men took to drinking and made matters worse for all, especially the womenfolk. Then one night one of the women refused to let her drunk husband in. She got bashed up big time. Next night she locked herself in and refused to open. He spent the night in the open. She got bashed up again in the morning but this time some other women intervened. That night more women refused to let their drunk husbands in and it was the beginning of something good. Today, i am told, nobody touches a drop of liquor in this village.....

At a lounge bar a rather drunk person wanted another drink. The bargirl refused him his drink. He pulled out his gun and shot her. Then he ran. Everybody in the bar froze but for one woman who chased him as far as she could. The shooter was a very influential person and bore upon everybody in the bar that night to hush up his act. Many couldnt stand the pressure and gave in to his cover-up, but that woman did not, no matter how intimidatiing things got. The shooter was eventually convicted, and the judges acknowledged the part played by that woman's testimony in getting his conviction....

Three random stories, two of them unheard of events, but three tales of heroism... how many more such heroes are still out there..... many.... many.

A quiet moment

Yesterday I was in a cafe mulling over my mocha. I looked around and the cafe was the usual noisy place it always is. The couple next to me seemed very keen on making everybody hear their 'private' conversation, the TV in the corner was spewing the same inane nonsense, the coffee grinder groaned as it grinded and the busboys flitted about balancing several orders at the same time. But in all this noise and confusion I was having a quite moment. It began just like any other moment, moments that are beset with thoughts of the past or hopes for the future, but somehow this moment was different. It was as if my ears had suspended work and refused to respond to the sonic bombardment at its doors. Bereft of sound my mind was forced to think rather than react and that's when I really began to feel good. That's when I seemed to sprout wings and began to hover. A strange weightlessness gave me a new sense of freedom and I began to look at everything like I had never seen it before.

Suspended animation, a state of bliss, finally I was learning to fly. Was this what all my efforts were all about? Was this the goal that one reached when all was said and done?

Alas, lovely as this was, it was but a moment and a moment always passes you by. So did this one. But as it passed me by it turned and with a sly smile whispered "the journey between what you once were and who you are now is where the dance of life really takes place...."

Fire and Ice

The other day I attended a breathtaking performance by a group of Manipuri dancers. The theme was 'Agni' so the performers made liberal use of fire both in their performance as well as in the decor. There was live music including a pandit reciting sutras and vedic hymns. The night was clear and a soft wind was blowing across the open-air stage. As the performance progressed we all were pulled into a vortex of feelings, sometimes burning, sometimes smouldering....

At one point the performers attempted to light a fire on the stage. They were vigorously rubbing together what looked like twigs and as their efforts got faster, the chanting kept pace till suddenly a fire was actually lit and the chanting came to a thunderous climax.

There was no doubt that the performers were highly talented. They danced, played the dholak, did some very complex movements with mashals, swords, spears and fire balls. As they weaved and swerved, they created swirling arcs of fire and when they fought with their swords, they did so with so much enthusiasm and speed that when their swords clashed sparks actually flew. I clapped and yelled so much that my hands ached and my throat was hoarse.

Thats when I noticed that the audience in general was rather frugal in its appreciation and I couldnt understand why. Appreciations is not just about acknowledging the performance, its about recognising and appreciating all the years of effort that goes into reaching the level of finesse that these performers had reached. Each of them would have made several sacrifices, taken tough decisions, opted out, several times, from all those little fun things we do, instead they would have chosen to practice their art. It is our obligation to tell them that all their sacrifice was well worth it. That they were right in choosing what they did and that we are indeed grateful that all their sacrifices gave us a moment to cherish.

I wish I had a hundred pair of hands and my voice a hundred times louder so that I could have clapped and shouted for each of those 'high society' ice statues that sat all around me in their pretty silk sarees and three piece suits.

First Steps

Things are on a roll. The mountains are beckoning and the weather is supportive too. In any case this is just the right time that one can hope to step out without the feeling that this indulgence can wait. The year is about gone and all that was to be done in it should be about done too. Right?

... but what about this little whisper, this feeling, that somewhere somehow it is all going to change. That like a tiger, fate waits patiently behind that rock, to make a killing of the good times.

I wonder what makes us so, why do we keep looking over our backs, forever worried that a tiger lurks. So much fun in life, so many wonderful opportunities, is lost if one is forever looking over one's back. Fun lies ahead, not behind. And that tiger.... well maybe he's just had his lunch...

I think I will take that walk in the woods after all... i got nothing to lose.