Oh! Calcutta
Kolkata can't be described or written about, it has to be experienced first hand. I guess this holds good for most cities that have a character or personality of their own like Bombay and New York. But what sets Kolkata apart from these other cities, I think, is that it has multiple personalities, each oblivious of the existence of the other. Kolkata is different to different people, and I feel she assumes a different guise for all who approach her. So find out for yourself, you haven't lived unless you have been to Calcutta...
This was my first Puja at West Bengal ever and my first visit back home after about four years. The place is certainly on its way back to its feet, where there used to be a pall of inactivity and decay a few years back, there is the hum of vibrant activity that gladdens the heart. Round the clock work on over-bridges and highways point to the fact that the Bengali Babu has finally woken up from a time warp.
It was a good experience going around in to the various Puja Pandals in Dankuni with my brother, mom and aunt. Did this after a long time and still love it..
If you go to Kolkata try out the Oh! Calcutta restaurant in Forum, Minto Park, if you are a fish enthusiast the food is good :)
My Best Friends Wedding
No, it is not just the name of a movie starring Julia Roberts. A close friend and colleague got married on the 16th of this month. I returned back from Kolkata to be in time for that. Best wishes to newly weds.
Winds of Change..
And finally the winds of change have appeared again in the horizon and with baited breath we wait to see what unfolds in the coming days and weeks...
Kanai Kanai
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Friday, September 30, 2005
Justifying Existence
Religion, it has been argued, has been a result of the perennial question that have assaulted thinkers at all times in human history - Who am I? What am I here for? Where do I go from here?
It is not as if Religion has been the only answer to these questions, man and woman have over ages sought to find the answers in Philosophy, Art, Conquests and Love. All modes of self expression, modes of justifying existence, modes of attaching some meaning to life.
This Wikipedia link provides some very interesting perspectives on the Meaning of Life.
However beyond all such matter of the brain that befuddle us lesser beings, there are those that live the meaning of life, personify the essence of Karma Yoga and appear as beacons of inspiration. Recently I came across such a story that played out right in front of me. I just wanted share this story today:
For years people at my workplace have known Mr G, a big security guard with a wide smile, who made it a point to wish everyone who walked passed his security post with a wave. On his retirement he and his wife started serving lunch boxes to work-weary engineers at our office who didn't have time to go out for food. He never seemed the ambitious type and looked satisfied with the hundred odd customers that he had here. For the past few years, the sight of people lining up to buy his lunch boxes, that he would lug himself, was a constant fixture outside the office. All this while his cheery smile remained, though you could sometimes sense some fatigue in his eyes.
Three months ago his son joined our organization as an engineer.
There is no pride in Mr G's demeanor and his still turns up at 12.45 religiously with his lunch boxes for his loyal clientele.
Mr G is an fantastic example of what Karma Yoga stands for. Maybe he never philosophizes about meaning of life but he sure has been living it. I spoke to him yesterday while going for lunch, he is still the same cheery person I have always known him to be.
I guess some truths in life can never be taught, they are meant to be lived.
Religion, it has been argued, has been a result of the perennial question that have assaulted thinkers at all times in human history - Who am I? What am I here for? Where do I go from here?
It is not as if Religion has been the only answer to these questions, man and woman have over ages sought to find the answers in Philosophy, Art, Conquests and Love. All modes of self expression, modes of justifying existence, modes of attaching some meaning to life.
This Wikipedia link provides some very interesting perspectives on the Meaning of Life.
However beyond all such matter of the brain that befuddle us lesser beings, there are those that live the meaning of life, personify the essence of Karma Yoga and appear as beacons of inspiration. Recently I came across such a story that played out right in front of me. I just wanted share this story today:
For years people at my workplace have known Mr G, a big security guard with a wide smile, who made it a point to wish everyone who walked passed his security post with a wave. On his retirement he and his wife started serving lunch boxes to work-weary engineers at our office who didn't have time to go out for food. He never seemed the ambitious type and looked satisfied with the hundred odd customers that he had here. For the past few years, the sight of people lining up to buy his lunch boxes, that he would lug himself, was a constant fixture outside the office. All this while his cheery smile remained, though you could sometimes sense some fatigue in his eyes.
Three months ago his son joined our organization as an engineer.
There is no pride in Mr G's demeanor and his still turns up at 12.45 religiously with his lunch boxes for his loyal clientele.
Mr G is an fantastic example of what Karma Yoga stands for. Maybe he never philosophizes about meaning of life but he sure has been living it. I spoke to him yesterday while going for lunch, he is still the same cheery person I have always known him to be.
I guess some truths in life can never be taught, they are meant to be lived.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Waiting to see you...
In God's universe, souls or entities that are meant to be together ALWAYS seek each other out. Call it destiny, karma or a bond that's formed in previous births, it really happens. "The universe conspires to make it so". Wonderful isn't it...
I have seen signs of this conspiracy so often in my life. Each soul that I have been drawn to have led me to believe that such attachments could have come only through love that transcends lifetimes.
Much of my grown up life has been a search for some meaning for life..but in your presence I feel calmed and rested..I feel justified. There's so much to discover together, so much to talk about, so much to learn and so much fun to be had...
Yes, I am really waiting to see you..
In God's universe, souls or entities that are meant to be together ALWAYS seek each other out. Call it destiny, karma or a bond that's formed in previous births, it really happens. "The universe conspires to make it so". Wonderful isn't it...
I have seen signs of this conspiracy so often in my life. Each soul that I have been drawn to have led me to believe that such attachments could have come only through love that transcends lifetimes.
Much of my grown up life has been a search for some meaning for life..but in your presence I feel calmed and rested..I feel justified. There's so much to discover together, so much to talk about, so much to learn and so much fun to be had...
Yes, I am really waiting to see you..
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Sri Krishna
Shokhi Go, Prano Shokhi Aamar-
Aami, ki rupo harinu,
Madhuro-murathi
Piriti-raashero Shyam
O dear friend of mine,
What wonderous beauty it is that I have beheld,
The icon of delight,
Shyam, the the personification of love
I have grown up seeing crowds of people moved into tears by my father's renderings of Kirtans such as these. An article in The Week magazine had stated that "No one has so influenced the course of India's religion, philosophy, art and literature as Krishna". Truely, his attraction, charisma and philosophy are unparallelled, starting from the Emotional exuberance of the Bhakta's adoration of Krishna as exemplified in Radha's love for Him to the sublime philosophy of the Bhagvad Gita.
Today is Janmastami, the day of birth of Lord Krishna, who historically is said to have lived 5000 years ago. The following two article provide interesting historical perspectives of Sri Krishna:
Search for the Historical Krishna
The Legend of Dwaraka
Sri Krishna, or as we call him at home, Kanai (from Kanhaiah perhaps) as always been a constant and unquestioned presence in our daily lives. When we were young father told me and my brother that Kanai is our eldest brother who is always with us in our hearts and would never ever fail us. I believed him then and now, more than ever, I still do.
Sri Krishna Saranam Mahah.
Shokhi Go, Prano Shokhi Aamar-
Aami, ki rupo harinu,
Madhuro-murathi
Piriti-raashero Shyam
O dear friend of mine,
What wonderous beauty it is that I have beheld,
The icon of delight,
Shyam, the the personification of love
I have grown up seeing crowds of people moved into tears by my father's renderings of Kirtans such as these. An article in The Week magazine had stated that "No one has so influenced the course of India's religion, philosophy, art and literature as Krishna". Truely, his attraction, charisma and philosophy are unparallelled, starting from the Emotional exuberance of the Bhakta's adoration of Krishna as exemplified in Radha's love for Him to the sublime philosophy of the Bhagvad Gita.
Today is Janmastami, the day of birth of Lord Krishna, who historically is said to have lived 5000 years ago. The following two article provide interesting historical perspectives of Sri Krishna:
Search for the Historical Krishna
The Legend of Dwaraka
Sri Krishna, or as we call him at home, Kanai (from Kanhaiah perhaps) as always been a constant and unquestioned presence in our daily lives. When we were young father told me and my brother that Kanai is our eldest brother who is always with us in our hearts and would never ever fail us. I believed him then and now, more than ever, I still do.
Sri Krishna Saranam Mahah.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
The Big Picture
The Nazca Lines are fascinating. I remember wintry evenings in Itanagar when I and my brother would huddle around Dad and listen about the stories of the ancient lines and Daniken's theories around them with wide-eyed amazement. Sleep in those days of my childhood were not so elusive as they have become today, but I still remember the tangling sensation that would electrify our imagination which, Dad, the master story teller that he was, could infuse into his children at such early age.
In my sleep deprived state in NYC the last few days, my mind for some reason seemed to wander back to those stories of Nazca lines and the familiar feeling of tangling re-surfaced and I found myself Googling a bit. I find it absurdly wonderful that generations of ancients were willing to labour to create these gigantic geoglyps on a stony desert that they would in all probability never see with their own eyes. Ever! Unless of-course the incredible stories that Daniken told were true, which is kind of hard to believe or alternatively the ancients could actually fly! (BTW, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy prescribes that the trick to flying is to try to fall down to the ground from an elevated place - and miss!!! Manhattan seems to be just the place to experiment this theory, and if that works I could just wing my way back home:)
As the ancients faded away into the mist of time the story of these glyphs and their symbolism was forgotten for over a thousand and five hundred years. Countless feet must have trodden over these wonders without the faintest of ideas of what lay under their own feet.
It was not until 1920s when commercial airlines began flying across the Peruvian desert that humans rediscovered the Nazca lines and wondered anew. And the rest is history. I feel that the possibilities that astound us emerge not just through the microscope or surgical scalpel, but often also through a change in the perspective we wish to view our personal reality from.
The possibilities are endless, but dare we look at them...
New York is a funny place. Last Sunday, after a hard day wrestling with the goons of UML, I decided to stroll down the Lexington Avenue looking for some place where I could get some Machh Jhol to eat. It came as such a wonderful surprise when I discovered that a few block down from where I am staying, police had cordoned off the whole area and the entire avenue had turned into an open air fair. There were eating places, cloth stores, trinkets shops all snuggly against each other right on the road. I had a delightful time just walking through the whole place. And today, when while out on lunch I found that Rockefeller Center was playing host to a outdoors farmers market so much like markets in India. Well, New York, being here has been fun, but tommorow I go back home.
I feel like shouting ... Home..E.T Home... Mañana Man!!!
The Nazca Lines are fascinating. I remember wintry evenings in Itanagar when I and my brother would huddle around Dad and listen about the stories of the ancient lines and Daniken's theories around them with wide-eyed amazement. Sleep in those days of my childhood were not so elusive as they have become today, but I still remember the tangling sensation that would electrify our imagination which, Dad, the master story teller that he was, could infuse into his children at such early age.
In my sleep deprived state in NYC the last few days, my mind for some reason seemed to wander back to those stories of Nazca lines and the familiar feeling of tangling re-surfaced and I found myself Googling a bit. I find it absurdly wonderful that generations of ancients were willing to labour to create these gigantic geoglyps on a stony desert that they would in all probability never see with their own eyes. Ever! Unless of-course the incredible stories that Daniken told were true, which is kind of hard to believe or alternatively the ancients could actually fly! (BTW, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy prescribes that the trick to flying is to try to fall down to the ground from an elevated place - and miss!!! Manhattan seems to be just the place to experiment this theory, and if that works I could just wing my way back home:)
As the ancients faded away into the mist of time the story of these glyphs and their symbolism was forgotten for over a thousand and five hundred years. Countless feet must have trodden over these wonders without the faintest of ideas of what lay under their own feet.
It was not until 1920s when commercial airlines began flying across the Peruvian desert that humans rediscovered the Nazca lines and wondered anew. And the rest is history. I feel that the possibilities that astound us emerge not just through the microscope or surgical scalpel, but often also through a change in the perspective we wish to view our personal reality from.
The possibilities are endless, but dare we look at them...
New York is a funny place. Last Sunday, after a hard day wrestling with the goons of UML, I decided to stroll down the Lexington Avenue looking for some place where I could get some Machh Jhol to eat. It came as such a wonderful surprise when I discovered that a few block down from where I am staying, police had cordoned off the whole area and the entire avenue had turned into an open air fair. There were eating places, cloth stores, trinkets shops all snuggly against each other right on the road. I had a delightful time just walking through the whole place. And today, when while out on lunch I found that Rockefeller Center was playing host to a outdoors farmers market so much like markets in India. Well, New York, being here has been fun, but tommorow I go back home.
I feel like shouting ... Home..E.T Home... Mañana Man!!!
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Optimism
"Sir, we're surrounded!"
"Excellent. We can attack in any direction!"
New York is really a fascinating place, and having landed on the 4th of July I got to see the fantastic fireworks display that they put up on the East River. Typically the other 4th July fireworks that I had seen earlier had just been crackers exploding into spheres of light, but this time the spectacle was really worth the time I spent waiting. From 9.30 in the evening till 10.30 the entire sky lit up into a riot of colours, shapes and sounds. This coupled with the excited crowd that had gather along the river bank did make this a night to remember.
Gawking at the lights in Times Square, taking ferry rides near Statue of Liberty and having food in tucked away Bangladeshi curry shops as well as upclass wall street hang-outs have been mainly what I have been doing most evenings last week. It has been really fun so far.
I don't think I shall be able to go to Maryland this time, the onset of my flu has seen to that, so I guess I shall head home this weekend as planned.
That didn't sound like my typical blog entry, did it? Well, guess what? My brain has gone on a vacation without leaving a forwarding address and my fingers just cooked up what best they could :)
"Sir, we're surrounded!"
"Excellent. We can attack in any direction!"
--An Army OfficerThis PJ which I just stole from someone else's blog pretty much sums up the optimistic frame of reference that my mind is operating at, just about now.
New York is really a fascinating place, and having landed on the 4th of July I got to see the fantastic fireworks display that they put up on the East River. Typically the other 4th July fireworks that I had seen earlier had just been crackers exploding into spheres of light, but this time the spectacle was really worth the time I spent waiting. From 9.30 in the evening till 10.30 the entire sky lit up into a riot of colours, shapes and sounds. This coupled with the excited crowd that had gather along the river bank did make this a night to remember.
Gawking at the lights in Times Square, taking ferry rides near Statue of Liberty and having food in tucked away Bangladeshi curry shops as well as upclass wall street hang-outs have been mainly what I have been doing most evenings last week. It has been really fun so far.
I don't think I shall be able to go to Maryland this time, the onset of my flu has seen to that, so I guess I shall head home this weekend as planned.
That didn't sound like my typical blog entry, did it? Well, guess what? My brain has gone on a vacation without leaving a forwarding address and my fingers just cooked up what best they could :)
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Thought Atheism
In a world blinded under the collective glitter of thought leaders, I choose for myself the humble path of Thought atheism. In my recent opus on Thought Leadership (something that funnily has become much referenced), I had identified thought leaders as being those in the select band of gifted worthies, who spend their time researching and gaining educated insight into complex equations that power matters of huge cranial significance in order to offer superior value to lesser mortals (such as yours truly) who may be optimistically entrusted to use their limited intelligence and stand to benefit from the aforementioned matters of huge intellectual solemnity and unfathomable economic promise. (Phew, that was in fact the longest sentence of pure hogwash that I have written in quite a long while :)
Contrast this with my simple philosophy thought atheism, where the psyche remains untainted by the myriad of life's sweet and bitter experiences, pristine in its ignorance and shiny like a newly minted 50 paise coin. While it may make one sound a little pompous in a comical sort of way, it does bestow upon one the gift of non-judgementalism (look ma, I just coined a new meta-word!!). A precious gift that allows you to savour the flavour of each transaction at its own atmoicity, cherish each relationship for its uniqueness and enjoy every single bite into a cheesecake as if it were your first...
Try it sometimes ... I promise it won't hurt (frankly, I wouldn't remember if it did.) :)
In a world blinded under the collective glitter of thought leaders, I choose for myself the humble path of Thought atheism. In my recent opus on Thought Leadership (something that funnily has become much referenced), I had identified thought leaders as being those in the select band of gifted worthies, who spend their time researching and gaining educated insight into complex equations that power matters of huge cranial significance in order to offer superior value to lesser mortals (such as yours truly) who may be optimistically entrusted to use their limited intelligence and stand to benefit from the aforementioned matters of huge intellectual solemnity and unfathomable economic promise. (Phew, that was in fact the longest sentence of pure hogwash that I have written in quite a long while :)
Contrast this with my simple philosophy thought atheism, where the psyche remains untainted by the myriad of life's sweet and bitter experiences, pristine in its ignorance and shiny like a newly minted 50 paise coin. While it may make one sound a little pompous in a comical sort of way, it does bestow upon one the gift of non-judgementalism (look ma, I just coined a new meta-word!!). A precious gift that allows you to savour the flavour of each transaction at its own atmoicity, cherish each relationship for its uniqueness and enjoy every single bite into a cheesecake as if it were your first...
Try it sometimes ... I promise it won't hurt (frankly, I wouldn't remember if it did.) :)
Friday, May 20, 2005
Higher Purpose! Wherefore?
I remember hearing somewhere that Life is just a random sequence of coincidences and accidents. Much of earth's history appear to stand witness to this. Just imagine, if those millions of years ago a random meteorite wouldn't have stuck earth, brought about an ice age that wiped out the mighty dinosaurs, the puny mammals wouldn't ever have had the chance to evolve into, through a series of incredibly circuitous twists and turns, into us - the humans! If it were not for that wayward piece of space debris, I wouldn't have been writing this blog and you, gentle reader, wouldn't have been reading it...eerie, isn't it?
Now get this, this fancifully titled URL that ponders on the magnitude of eternal dance of creation, is just one in thousands of such websites that are hosted by this service provider, which is just one in tens of thousands of such hosting environments that abound in this world. A world that is a kind of funky maverick planet in an otherwise lack luster solar system, that centers around a mediocre sun, at the edge of a mid sized galaxy that we call the milky way, which itself it just a spec in the continuously raging pot of noodle soup that we call the universe. Artists depiction of that universe, to me, looks curiously like an egg poach.
Makes one sit back on wonder: Is what we call our universe just a side dish that is being prepared to be served at the breakfast table of someone staggeringly big dude, who just at this moment is getting ready to get to work and do whatever it is that they do in their staggeringly big worlds. Maybe what our brilliant scientific minds call the big bang, was just the egg being broken onto the cosmic frying pan :) and maybe this dude for whom this egg poach (our universe) is being prepared, is thinking of writing a blog today on whether there is a higher purpose to creation of life as he knows it. Maybe this guy deludes himself into believing that he is an unconventional thinker and is obsessed with finding the purpose of his existence in what he believes as his concept of creation. His approach, perchance, is a half hearted escapist attitude to fuel his staggeringly inflated ego into a comforting sense of pseudo-intellectuality. But one still hope in that staggeringly big universe there might have been some equivalent of our Chaitanya and Buddhas who have discerned the truth. One feels tempted to imagine that at least those big illuminated folks are vegetarian, as was Adolf Hitler. But for all you know, our staggeringly big dude's staggeringly big universe could be someone's egg poach too ;)
And now for the extreme possibility, the egg poach that I absent-mindedly pertook this morning, nodding sagely over the political news page of the newspaper, could that have been itself a smaller version of the same universe that is inhabited by those staggeringly big dudes, one of whom is probably hovering his fork over his breakfast side dish just about now!
Mundo Notion, Huh?!!!
Now ask yourself, those life problems and deep philosophical questions that you have been so agonizing over lately, are these worth the effort at all. Wouldn't you be rather out there fishing? I know I would, and I do, well kind-of!! ;). Every Saturday I buy fish from the neighbourhood fish monger. But wait! Suddenly a deep doubt assails me with tsunamic force, are fishes universes too? ....
Nah?! Couldn't be! Fishes are just too tastefully disposed to be universes or multiverses, just make sure you use the right amount of mustard!!!
I remember hearing somewhere that Life is just a random sequence of coincidences and accidents. Much of earth's history appear to stand witness to this. Just imagine, if those millions of years ago a random meteorite wouldn't have stuck earth, brought about an ice age that wiped out the mighty dinosaurs, the puny mammals wouldn't ever have had the chance to evolve into, through a series of incredibly circuitous twists and turns, into us - the humans! If it were not for that wayward piece of space debris, I wouldn't have been writing this blog and you, gentle reader, wouldn't have been reading it...eerie, isn't it?
Now get this, this fancifully titled URL that ponders on the magnitude of eternal dance of creation, is just one in thousands of such websites that are hosted by this service provider, which is just one in tens of thousands of such hosting environments that abound in this world. A world that is a kind of funky maverick planet in an otherwise lack luster solar system, that centers around a mediocre sun, at the edge of a mid sized galaxy that we call the milky way, which itself it just a spec in the continuously raging pot of noodle soup that we call the universe. Artists depiction of that universe, to me, looks curiously like an egg poach.
Makes one sit back on wonder: Is what we call our universe just a side dish that is being prepared to be served at the breakfast table of someone staggeringly big dude, who just at this moment is getting ready to get to work and do whatever it is that they do in their staggeringly big worlds. Maybe what our brilliant scientific minds call the big bang, was just the egg being broken onto the cosmic frying pan :) and maybe this dude for whom this egg poach (our universe) is being prepared, is thinking of writing a blog today on whether there is a higher purpose to creation of life as he knows it. Maybe this guy deludes himself into believing that he is an unconventional thinker and is obsessed with finding the purpose of his existence in what he believes as his concept of creation. His approach, perchance, is a half hearted escapist attitude to fuel his staggeringly inflated ego into a comforting sense of pseudo-intellectuality. But one still hope in that staggeringly big universe there might have been some equivalent of our Chaitanya and Buddhas who have discerned the truth. One feels tempted to imagine that at least those big illuminated folks are vegetarian, as was Adolf Hitler. But for all you know, our staggeringly big dude's staggeringly big universe could be someone's egg poach too ;)
And now for the extreme possibility, the egg poach that I absent-mindedly pertook this morning, nodding sagely over the political news page of the newspaper, could that have been itself a smaller version of the same universe that is inhabited by those staggeringly big dudes, one of whom is probably hovering his fork over his breakfast side dish just about now!
Mundo Notion, Huh?!!!
Now ask yourself, those life problems and deep philosophical questions that you have been so agonizing over lately, are these worth the effort at all. Wouldn't you be rather out there fishing? I know I would, and I do, well kind-of!! ;). Every Saturday I buy fish from the neighbourhood fish monger. But wait! Suddenly a deep doubt assails me with tsunamic force, are fishes universes too? ....
Nah?! Couldn't be! Fishes are just too tastefully disposed to be universes or multiverses, just make sure you use the right amount of mustard!!!
Sunday, May 08, 2005
God smiles at me everyday
I know perfectly well what God's smile look would like for I can bet that it can be no different from the way my mother smiles.
A very old Hindi movie song goes like this:
Happy Mother's Day Mom!
I know perfectly well what God's smile look would like for I can bet that it can be no different from the way my mother smiles.
A very old Hindi movie song goes like this:
Dekha nahin humne kabhi usko, par uske zaroorat kya hogi
Ai ma, teri soorat se alag, bhagban ki soorat kya hogi --
Happy Mother's Day Mom!
Monday, April 11, 2005
Footprints In The Sand
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there was one only.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from anguish,
sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints,
so I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there has only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”
The Lord replied,
“The years when you have seen only one set of footprints,
my child, is when I carried you.”
This was related to me recently, when I really need to be reminded of the Lord's grace.
written by Mary Stevenson
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there was one only.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from anguish,
sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints,
so I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there has only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”
The Lord replied,
“The years when you have seen only one set of footprints,
my child, is when I carried you.”
This was related to me recently, when I really need to be reminded of the Lord's grace.
Friday, April 08, 2005
The Illusive Sight of Thy Shore....
(Reflections a few much listened Bhajans)
Like a dragging anchor trailing a ship, adrift mid-sea, trying to desperately reach-out to any rock outcrop to wedge itself to, I increasingly find the mind wandering mindlessly from ideas to ideas, aimlessly, restlessly and perchance hopelessly.. In such trying times my Hari, why do you still insist on your elaborate game of hide-n-seek. Why do you hide from me and where do I look for you?
I gladly leave all the Gyan and Yoga to the Great Ones, these talks never do me any good and confuse me to no end. No longer have I use of any discussions on name-form, nor any debates on your duality or non-duality and I care no more to understand the intricacies of the insrutable Maya. But tell me this why do you deny me even the refuge of your bhakti? Why can't I just lose myself nectar of your name?
The shores of your grace, (where I thought I was headed at the start of my voyage) why are they so covered in mist? I dread to imagine thus, but could this mist be the makings of my own ignorant ego? And in this blinding mist I steer my ship knowing not wherefore. Often a times a dark shape looms ahead and I heart skips a beat and I tell myself - "Quiet down, my heart, maybe we are there, maybe we are home..", but every time on a closer look, the port looks alien and I turn my battered ship around disheartened...For in this ocean of ever swelling waves, I still have not found those shores that I yearn for...and in case you haven't noticed, O dark one, the sky looks rather threatening.
I grandiosely call my voyage, The Hunt for Paradise, then so often why does my resolve waver and why does my radar deceive my so?
The armies of Tamas plague me on all sides, even as the Kaurav had surrounded Abhimnayu, and much as I struggle I feel the fight leaving me. Show me a way out mother, for my ship flounders.. I can't battle these giant wave alone any more. I need you by my side now, more than ever..
Sri Krishna Saranam Mamah!
(Reflections a few much listened Bhajans)
Tomar Do-paad podde, Mojiye Thaki
Hari-he aamar aai basona....
My only wish, Hari, is to have my mind to be immerged
Evermore in meditation of your two feet...
Like a dragging anchor trailing a ship, adrift mid-sea, trying to desperately reach-out to any rock outcrop to wedge itself to, I increasingly find the mind wandering mindlessly from ideas to ideas, aimlessly, restlessly and perchance hopelessly.. In such trying times my Hari, why do you still insist on your elaborate game of hide-n-seek. Why do you hide from me and where do I look for you?
Aankh Micholi Hume na bhaye...
Jag Maya ke Jaal bichaye..
I gladly leave all the Gyan and Yoga to the Great Ones, these talks never do me any good and confuse me to no end. No longer have I use of any discussions on name-form, nor any debates on your duality or non-duality and I care no more to understand the intricacies of the insrutable Maya. But tell me this why do you deny me even the refuge of your bhakti? Why can't I just lose myself nectar of your name?
The shores of your grace, (where I thought I was headed at the start of my voyage) why are they so covered in mist? I dread to imagine thus, but could this mist be the makings of my own ignorant ego? And in this blinding mist I steer my ship knowing not wherefore. Often a times a dark shape looms ahead and I heart skips a beat and I tell myself - "Quiet down, my heart, maybe we are there, maybe we are home..", but every time on a closer look, the port looks alien and I turn my battered ship around disheartened...For in this ocean of ever swelling waves, I still have not found those shores that I yearn for...and in case you haven't noticed, O dark one, the sky looks rather threatening.
I grandiosely call my voyage, The Hunt for Paradise, then so often why does my resolve waver and why does my radar deceive my so?
Ghurie De Ma, Moner goti
Jiboner Aai O belai
Chokrakar-e Morchi Ghure
Anitya Shukeri Aashay...
O Mother, render back unto me,
The Lost rhythm of my mind...,
I wander about still looking for Transient Pleasures,
So shamefully unbecoming in my age...
The armies of Tamas plague me on all sides, even as the Kaurav had surrounded Abhimnayu, and much as I struggle I feel the fight leaving me. Show me a way out mother, for my ship flounders.. I can't battle these giant wave alone any more. I need you by my side now, more than ever..
Chaler Bholo Chaitis Jodi
Hoto Temon Moti-Gati
Hath Dhore Thik Niye Jati
Charia Dia Sokol Bhada
If You really cared for Your son
You actions would have reflected your intentions
I know You would have held me by hand
You would have extricated me from all these bindings..
Ek bar boithe ne go Tri-noyani
Ami aar baite pari-ne
My Mother, My Hari, My Shankar my struggles have left me fatigued and tired and I can no longer navigate...
Come now. Take me home. Please.....
Sri Krishna Saranam Mamah!
Saturday, January 01, 2005
The Immortal Soul
In times of trials there is no greater support that is afforded to us then prayer. It is only in the Lord's word that we can find solace and the will to live on. Those that were taken away by the Tsunami didn't perish, their immortal Atman lives on....
He Krishna
Karuna Sindhu
Dina Bandhu
Jagat Pate
Gopesha Gopikakanta
Radhakanta
Namastute
In times of trials there is no greater support that is afforded to us then prayer. It is only in the Lord's word that we can find solace and the will to live on. Those that were taken away by the Tsunami didn't perish, their immortal Atman lives on....
Wake up from the slumber of ignorance. This body and the world are indwelt by the Imperishable Atman, Brahman or the Soul. None can cause the destruction of That—the Imperishable. This Atman is not born nor does It ever die. It is unborn, eternal, changeless, ancient and inexhaustible. It is not killed when the body is killed. It slays not, nor is It slain. Just as a man casts off worn out clothes and puts on new ones, so also the embodied Self casts off worn out bodies and enters others which are new. Weapons cut It not, fire burns It not, water wets It not, wind dries It not. This Self is unmanifested, unthinkable and unchangeable.- Sri Krishna in Bhagavad Gita
He Krishna
Karuna Sindhu
Dina Bandhu
Jagat Pate
Gopesha Gopikakanta
Radhakanta
Namastute
Monday, December 20, 2004
Supersizing Justice...
You see? You See? The long and powerful hand of our great Indian Justice system! Well, we sure showed 'em kids. What were they thinking ?! MMeSsing with the law of the land. We can't have any of it, can we? We saw how quickly our justice system swung into action, be it IIT or DPS, the kids were netted like flies and deposited where they belong, with other hardcore criminals. A flawless execution as any and as a bonus to the Taxpayers our brave and fearless Police Force supersized our quota of Justice by getting the CEO of the auction site as well. That's showing 'em.
The beauty of our justice system is its superb sense of priority, its amazing sense of applying discretion. We know what to let go with an indulgent smile of a loving grandfather and what to hold on to like a vice like grip.
For instance, we are not silly to loose sleep over the fact that in places like Murishidabad and Cachar, it is the illegal immigrants that have been "legalized" by our wise political masters who decide who gets elected to the Assembly or Parliament. Nor do we bet an eyelid at the fact that erstwhile criminals have changed spots and doned white caps of purity. No! We believe that Justice System is all about giving people such as these the voice they need. We make them our Leaders and our Ministers, because that is sure to cure them of whatever small flaws they may have had and one is sure their errors were committed unknowingly. With tear laden eyes, we hug them as our own..we set them on a padestral..and we set them up to rule us.
But it is those virulently criminal minds, beyond redemption, like those darn kids, for whom we have no mercy. The media, the police and the overwheming public opinion shall see to it that they pay. Pay Bigtime.
Afterall this is the land that Rabindranath Tagore (whose Nobel prize is still missing, but that's too trifling a matter) dreamt of when he wrote..
You see? You See? The long and powerful hand of our great Indian Justice system! Well, we sure showed 'em kids. What were they thinking ?! MMeSsing with the law of the land. We can't have any of it, can we? We saw how quickly our justice system swung into action, be it IIT or DPS, the kids were netted like flies and deposited where they belong, with other hardcore criminals. A flawless execution as any and as a bonus to the Taxpayers our brave and fearless Police Force supersized our quota of Justice by getting the CEO of the auction site as well. That's showing 'em.
The beauty of our justice system is its superb sense of priority, its amazing sense of applying discretion. We know what to let go with an indulgent smile of a loving grandfather and what to hold on to like a vice like grip.
For instance, we are not silly to loose sleep over the fact that in places like Murishidabad and Cachar, it is the illegal immigrants that have been "legalized" by our wise political masters who decide who gets elected to the Assembly or Parliament. Nor do we bet an eyelid at the fact that erstwhile criminals have changed spots and doned white caps of purity. No! We believe that Justice System is all about giving people such as these the voice they need. We make them our Leaders and our Ministers, because that is sure to cure them of whatever small flaws they may have had and one is sure their errors were committed unknowingly. With tear laden eyes, we hug them as our own..we set them on a padestral..and we set them up to rule us.
But it is those virulently criminal minds, beyond redemption, like those darn kids, for whom we have no mercy. The media, the police and the overwheming public opinion shall see to it that they pay. Pay Bigtime.
Afterall this is the land that Rabindranath Tagore (whose Nobel prize is still missing, but that's too trifling a matter) dreamt of when he wrote..
Where the mind is without fear
And the head is held high...
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake
Friday, November 05, 2004
Yasser Lives
My earliest recollection of Yasser Arafat is from a live telecast on Doordarsan, decades ago. In response to Indira Gandhi's extended hand for a shake, he gave her a big bear hug on the podium during a NAM summit. That somehow touched me and lakhs of other Indians, for whom Yasser became the face of the Palestinian struggle.
Over the years, inspite of all his miscalculations and errorenous decision, the one thing that no one can fault him on - His commitment to his cause. He biggest contribution for that cause, in my opinion is not what he strategized; it is his success in not letting the story of Palestine blot from the collective psyche of the world. If Palestine has not been relegated to some hidden compartment at the back of our brains, like Rawanda, Fiji, Checnya and scores of such other places of human tragedy, it is because Arafat strove and succeeded in keeping it in the forefront.
I don't understand his politics, never did. One thing I know is that terrorism that targets common people, what ever be the cause and whoever be the perpetrator can never be condoned. I also know, that behind that benign Grandfather-like smile, lurks a soul hardened by violence and struggle.
But in a world of plagued by mindless terrorists, Yasser Arafat towers as a real Freedom Fighter, a tag no Indian can take lightly. He may not have been put on a pedastral like Gandhi or Mendela, but he has certainly made the world sit up and take notice.
Arafat has played out his part in the world stage, but his quest for freedom lives on. And with it lives on Yasser Arafat.
My earliest recollection of Yasser Arafat is from a live telecast on Doordarsan, decades ago. In response to Indira Gandhi's extended hand for a shake, he gave her a big bear hug on the podium during a NAM summit. That somehow touched me and lakhs of other Indians, for whom Yasser became the face of the Palestinian struggle.
Over the years, inspite of all his miscalculations and errorenous decision, the one thing that no one can fault him on - His commitment to his cause. He biggest contribution for that cause, in my opinion is not what he strategized; it is his success in not letting the story of Palestine blot from the collective psyche of the world. If Palestine has not been relegated to some hidden compartment at the back of our brains, like Rawanda, Fiji, Checnya and scores of such other places of human tragedy, it is because Arafat strove and succeeded in keeping it in the forefront.
I don't understand his politics, never did. One thing I know is that terrorism that targets common people, what ever be the cause and whoever be the perpetrator can never be condoned. I also know, that behind that benign Grandfather-like smile, lurks a soul hardened by violence and struggle.
But in a world of plagued by mindless terrorists, Yasser Arafat towers as a real Freedom Fighter, a tag no Indian can take lightly. He may not have been put on a pedastral like Gandhi or Mendela, but he has certainly made the world sit up and take notice.
Arafat has played out his part in the world stage, but his quest for freedom lives on. And with it lives on Yasser Arafat.
Monday, October 04, 2004
A walk in the clouds..
The winding road that leads you from Siliguri to Gangtok is the most picturesque one that I have ever come across. Grooves of tall eucalyptus greet you as soon as you leave the dusty plains of Bengal. A little further up the hills the ever beautiful Theesta river gurgles her exuberant welcome. She links her silken arm to yours promising to walk by your side as the you make your way up. All along the way she whispers playfully into your ears inviting you to stop a while and look into her emerald green eyes, or gaze at the majestic Himalayas that stand guard all around. Interesting nooks abound by the roadside, standing from where you can witness the mesmeric rhythm of undulating hills, each crest with its own shade of green, silently beckoning you to get off the beaten path and explore. At the Tibetan style gate to the state of Sikkim, Theesta bids you goodbye and rushes back down to guide other wayfarers like you. The majestic mountains now take over your charge and lead you through the pristine green forests and stay with with you until you enter the quaint Gangtok town, perched on the top of a mountain 6000 Ft over the sea level.
Gangtok is a fascinating place, a Sanghri-La where time itself stopped to take a breather. It is an interesting mix of classical Tibetan culture juxtaposed with modern Indian lifestyle. The scenery all around, from any point in the town that you might be, is truly breath-taking. The majestic Kanchanjunga looms over, as you slowly take a stroll through the main shopping district and gaggles of cute children can be seen running around most of the time. Small Momo shops dish out tasty Tibetan fare in street corners even as shops next to them sell everything from Sikkimese handicraft to the latest electronics and fashions merchandise.
The view from the terrace of Mona's house is really wonderful. Green mountains, almost untouched by human habitation slowly unveil themselves through the mist every morning. Throughout the day colourful Buddhist flags flutter in the mountain winds, spreading afar the tidings of peace and the blessings of the Enlightened One. As the evening wafts in, amidst the chants of mantras, Buddhist hymns and the ubiquitous whine of televisions, the whole of Burtuk Busti clothes itself again in a blanket of mist, as if getting ready for facing the cold night ahead.
I have been to Gangtok thrice already and each of these times I have found new places to explore and new things to learn. Rumtek Monastary, Changu Lake (Tsamgo in Tibetan), the Orchid Gardens, the institute of Tibetology, View Point, Ganesh-Tok are some of the must-see and must-do things there. There are a number of places in and around Gangtok, from where you can actually see clouds floating much below where you stand. One of my recurrent dreams is that of flying, being in Gangtok is the closest that I have gotten to that.
However, what enchants to me the most, each and everytime, is the way of life in Gangtok. Make no mistake, Gangtok is a modern Indian capital town, with its own share of typical urban problems that assails the rest of the country. Still, in the face of all that life moves along a trifle unhurriedly and with a little more grace in Gangtok. Neighbours here really are neighbours and not faceless people with whom you share walls and the warmth in the morning greetings can still be discerned.
I feel the appeal of Gangtok, for me, is in its people who have refused to become automatons in face of the pressures of modern day living. And in summary that's the message that I bring back for myself every time I visit there: Stay Human.
The winding road that leads you from Siliguri to Gangtok is the most picturesque one that I have ever come across. Grooves of tall eucalyptus greet you as soon as you leave the dusty plains of Bengal. A little further up the hills the ever beautiful Theesta river gurgles her exuberant welcome. She links her silken arm to yours promising to walk by your side as the you make your way up. All along the way she whispers playfully into your ears inviting you to stop a while and look into her emerald green eyes, or gaze at the majestic Himalayas that stand guard all around. Interesting nooks abound by the roadside, standing from where you can witness the mesmeric rhythm of undulating hills, each crest with its own shade of green, silently beckoning you to get off the beaten path and explore. At the Tibetan style gate to the state of Sikkim, Theesta bids you goodbye and rushes back down to guide other wayfarers like you. The majestic mountains now take over your charge and lead you through the pristine green forests and stay with with you until you enter the quaint Gangtok town, perched on the top of a mountain 6000 Ft over the sea level.
Gangtok is a fascinating place, a Sanghri-La where time itself stopped to take a breather. It is an interesting mix of classical Tibetan culture juxtaposed with modern Indian lifestyle. The scenery all around, from any point in the town that you might be, is truly breath-taking. The majestic Kanchanjunga looms over, as you slowly take a stroll through the main shopping district and gaggles of cute children can be seen running around most of the time. Small Momo shops dish out tasty Tibetan fare in street corners even as shops next to them sell everything from Sikkimese handicraft to the latest electronics and fashions merchandise.
The view from the terrace of Mona's house is really wonderful. Green mountains, almost untouched by human habitation slowly unveil themselves through the mist every morning. Throughout the day colourful Buddhist flags flutter in the mountain winds, spreading afar the tidings of peace and the blessings of the Enlightened One. As the evening wafts in, amidst the chants of mantras, Buddhist hymns and the ubiquitous whine of televisions, the whole of Burtuk Busti clothes itself again in a blanket of mist, as if getting ready for facing the cold night ahead.
I have been to Gangtok thrice already and each of these times I have found new places to explore and new things to learn. Rumtek Monastary, Changu Lake (Tsamgo in Tibetan), the Orchid Gardens, the institute of Tibetology, View Point, Ganesh-Tok are some of the must-see and must-do things there. There are a number of places in and around Gangtok, from where you can actually see clouds floating much below where you stand. One of my recurrent dreams is that of flying, being in Gangtok is the closest that I have gotten to that.
However, what enchants to me the most, each and everytime, is the way of life in Gangtok. Make no mistake, Gangtok is a modern Indian capital town, with its own share of typical urban problems that assails the rest of the country. Still, in the face of all that life moves along a trifle unhurriedly and with a little more grace in Gangtok. Neighbours here really are neighbours and not faceless people with whom you share walls and the warmth in the morning greetings can still be discerned.
I feel the appeal of Gangtok, for me, is in its people who have refused to become automatons in face of the pressures of modern day living. And in summary that's the message that I bring back for myself every time I visit there: Stay Human.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Eternally Uttam
Satyajit Ray had once lent words to what all Bengali film goers had always known of Uttam Kumar - There isn't - there won't be another hero like him.
Uttam Kumar, as Uttam Kumar himself said in a movie, is Uttam Kumar. The kind of mass adulation he received in his lifetime and beyond is unsurpassed and is likely to remain so. He has, at various times of his career, been called legend, a genre by himself and at times even a God :). His electric performances with Suchitra Sen and later Supriya Devi are stuff that makes history, and make history he did.
An hypnotic presence, an thoroughly disarming smile and just the right amount of impishness, he represents, I think, what every Bengali, who is a little romantic at heart, (and that would be almost everyone) would aspire to be. Whether he won the heart of his lady love in Agniparisha, became a saint in Sanyashi Raja or gave up his life in service to others in Agnishwar, he had the whole of Bongdom rooting for him all the way. He was and is for us the Only superstar, part of the set of essentials like Durgapuja, Football and Ilish Mach that makes us, us.
Saw an Uttam Movie last weekend, an adaptation of The Sound of Music, really enjoyed and hence this reverential tribute to the our Maha-Nayak.
A couple of Uttam Links that I liked:
3to6A Movie Portal Tribute
Uttam Kumar
Satyajit Ray had once lent words to what all Bengali film goers had always known of Uttam Kumar - There isn't - there won't be another hero like him.
Uttam Kumar, as Uttam Kumar himself said in a movie, is Uttam Kumar. The kind of mass adulation he received in his lifetime and beyond is unsurpassed and is likely to remain so. He has, at various times of his career, been called legend, a genre by himself and at times even a God :). His electric performances with Suchitra Sen and later Supriya Devi are stuff that makes history, and make history he did.
An hypnotic presence, an thoroughly disarming smile and just the right amount of impishness, he represents, I think, what every Bengali, who is a little romantic at heart, (and that would be almost everyone) would aspire to be. Whether he won the heart of his lady love in Agniparisha, became a saint in Sanyashi Raja or gave up his life in service to others in Agnishwar, he had the whole of Bongdom rooting for him all the way. He was and is for us the Only superstar, part of the set of essentials like Durgapuja, Football and Ilish Mach that makes us, us.
Saw an Uttam Movie last weekend, an adaptation of The Sound of Music, really enjoyed and hence this reverential tribute to the our Maha-Nayak.
Uttam and Suchitra
A couple of Uttam Links that I liked:
3to6A Movie Portal Tribute
Uttam Kumar
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Greetings Earthlings...
The search for intelligent life elsewhere is a fascinating subject. Not withstanding the Alien Abductions and My Step-Father is a Martian stories, diligent researchers have spent countless hours looking for small green men surveying earth on silver coloured saucers and have made careers out of that. However, inspite of all our search, research and hopes, there's still not a iota of proof that there are really Klingon Empires, Vulcan Homeworlds, Naboo or Borgs out there. No, not even a Jar Jar Binks!
That is my opinion is a good news. Because in words of Calvin (the greatest six-year old philosopher ever) "Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us."
I, being a true Jedi ambassador to Starfleet Command, sometimes look up hoping to catch a glimpse of T'Pol, Seven or Amidala. So far they have eluded me, which I think is so their loss. Wise up people!
However, not ones to be dissuaded by this apparent lack of success in discovering intelligence anywhere in the universe (including earth), we humans have embarked on the bold mission of discovering artificial intelligence. Again the world abounds with worthies, who have offered their Blood, Toil, Tears and Sweat in that pursuit. Turing tests and Multi-Agent systems are old hats now, these days artificially intelligent beings can be good company and chat partners, as my recent conversation with Ramona shows. This I reproduce for your reading pleasure:
See, you can make a good thing out of almost anything. So my young friends, the moral of the story is brush up your Bangla. You never know when it's gonna come handy. ;)
The search for intelligent life elsewhere is a fascinating subject. Not withstanding the Alien Abductions and My Step-Father is a Martian stories, diligent researchers have spent countless hours looking for small green men surveying earth on silver coloured saucers and have made careers out of that. However, inspite of all our search, research and hopes, there's still not a iota of proof that there are really Klingon Empires, Vulcan Homeworlds, Naboo or Borgs out there. No, not even a Jar Jar Binks!
That is my opinion is a good news. Because in words of Calvin (the greatest six-year old philosopher ever) "Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us."
I, being a true Jedi ambassador to Starfleet Command, sometimes look up hoping to catch a glimpse of T'Pol, Seven or Amidala. So far they have eluded me, which I think is so their loss. Wise up people!
However, not ones to be dissuaded by this apparent lack of success in discovering intelligence anywhere in the universe (including earth), we humans have embarked on the bold mission of discovering artificial intelligence. Again the world abounds with worthies, who have offered their Blood, Toil, Tears and Sweat in that pursuit. Turing tests and Multi-Agent systems are old hats now, these days artificially intelligent beings can be good company and chat partners, as my recent conversation with Ramona shows. This I reproduce for your reading pleasure:
Ramona: Hello, I'm Ramona. What's your name?
User: Hi I am Jim
Ramona: Hi there, Jim. What did you do last weekend?
User: I worked, what did you do
Ramona: Do you do that often?
User: Yes :)
Ramona: oh. I went out with some friends. We had a great time
User: Where did you go?
Ramona: We went to a concert.
User: that's nice. tell me about it
Ramona: You mean, define last weekend?
User: no, the concert
Ramona: That was not a yes or no question. Is that a fact.
User: yes.
Ramona: I understand.
User: tell me about your friends.
Ramona: I shouldn't talk about my friends because they're probably gonna read this later
User: tell me about Turing tests.
Ramona: There is not much I can say about about Turing tests. Ok. Do you believe in God?
User: tell me about turing tests.
Ramona: Well according to Thomas Hobbes, the only way to deal with evil is to stress God's power.
User: Profound. Who is god?
Ramona: maybe
User: Who is God?
Ramona: GOD rules.
User: he rocks..
Ramona: I get it. undefined rocks.
User: What is AI
Ramona: I do not know what artificial intelligence is. Ok. What do you look like?
User: Skinny, with a big head.
Ramona: I'm looking for a guy with black hair and green eyes.
User: Well, I am an half-way there. My eyes are brown though.
Ramona: I bet you think I'm superficial now.
User: Not at all.
Ramona: I don't know, maybe I am...
User: So, what do you say we go out?
Ramona: Hmm. Interesting question. By "we" do you mean you and me?
User: Yes
Ramona: I see.
User: Is that an yes?
Ramona: Suppose I said yes.
User: Good, my friend whom I asked out for lunch went to school instead. :(
Ramona: You're my friend, I hope
User: So do I.
Ramona: Ok. Do you dream?
User: I dream of flying all the time.
Ramona: Tell me a recent dream you remember.
User: I dreamt of flying!
Ramona: Uh huh...is that all?
User: And I dreamt of my friends.
Ramona: well, according to my amateur Freudian interpretation, I'd have to say that you're not getting out enough
User: True.
Ramona: Oh, don't fret, that's a condition that is easily curable...What's going to be your first course of action in ridding yourself of this illness?
User: I am going out right now! Bye
Ramona: See you later Jim.
See, you can make a good thing out of almost anything. So my young friends, the moral of the story is brush up your Bangla. You never know when it's gonna come handy. ;)
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Friday, August 13, 2004
Meditations on Maha Mrityunjaya Mantra (The Chant of Immortality)
India is truly a magical land. As an Indian the aspect that strikes me the most is the matchless Indian Philosophy that sees Divinity in the mundane and Pure Truth in every facet of existence.
An unique aspect of Indian Philosophy that I have noticed in almost every school of thought (with possible exception of purely materialistic thought processes such as those of Charvaka) is visualization of the Divine as the One who has both creative and destructive attributes. The eventual destruction of everything that exists is neither considered in a negative light nor is considered final. For with destruction the universe (or as I always like to point out,- multiverse) collapses into a state of suspension from whither the cycle of creation starts anew. Thus the One becomes the single Constant or Nitya of existence, the bedrock which holds up the eternal cycles of creation and dissolution.
Lord Shiva, regarded often as destructive aspect of the divine trinity, is therefore seen also as the protector and giver of boons. This apparent contradiction doesn't result in the Philosophy breaking down, for Shiva is existence itself and encompasses all its forms and aspects.
Maha Mrityunjaya Mantra is an example of such a prayer wherein Lord Shiva's healing and protection potentials are meditated upon. It goes thus:
OM! Tryambakam yajamahe Sugandhim pushtivardhanam; Urvaarukamiva bandhanaan- Mrityormuksheeya maamritaat.
Roughly it translates to:
Om. We worship the Three-Eyed One (Lord Shiva), who is naturally fragrant, immensely merciful and who is the Protector of the devotees. Worshipping Him, may we be liberated from death for the sake of immortality just as the ripe cucumber easily separates itself from the binding stalk. By your Grace, Let me be in the state of salvation (Moksha) and be saved from the clutches of fearful death
This childlike plea for protection from death from a powerful deity, however has a much deeper meaning than is immediately apperant. In Indian Philosophy the third eye is associated with pure consciousness even as ignorance and bindings are regarded to be synonymous to death. Immortality is achieved through awakened consciousness. With this back ground, the mantra takes a entirely different meaning (even to someone as ignorant as me). Can it not mean something as follows:
O personification of pure consciousness, who pervades the entire creation as a sweet fragrance of truth, bestow the Amrit (nectar, elixer of life) of Knowledge unto me that I be delivered from the death-like bondage of ignorance.
It is wonderful how the hue changes altogether as soon as the frame of reference is altered slightly.
As I sat listening and chanting this mantra last night with my mother, another thought stuck me, does this mantra mean something even deeper and closer. It is the word Sugandhim (fragrant) that fired my limited imagination.
The musk deer, found in Northern India, is particularly prized for the fragrance it gives out from its body at maturity. The folklore goes that once it starts giving out its fragrance, the deer itself being unaware where the scent comes from, runs around seeking the source. (There's a Bangla song also on this). While I am not really sure of the authenticity of this behaviour (I mean, c'mon), it makes for a very poignant metaphor for someone who doesn't know his own potential. Adviata claims our union with the one is separated only by our degrees of ignorance. So can this mantra be directed to the One who is within, whose power is evident all around us (First principle) but who we due to our ignorance fail to perceive as the in-dweller in us and everything else. So maybe the mantra means:
O divine one, whose majesty I perceive as the fragrant creation all around me, not realizing that you dwell within me, open thee, my third eye of unalloyed consciousness, so that I realize my own nature as the nectar of immortality and thus gain deliverence from my bondage
Philosophy or rantings? You decide. :)
Truth be told, it is in times of challenge that one often remembers the divine and last evening I was quite bothered. In such times I find that meditations are of tremendous help.
My father had written a song many years back, which possibly holds true for me.
"Aadhare tor rup bujhi Ma, Aaloy tore bhule jai",
"O mother I remember you only when it is dark, and forget you in the light of day."
Maybe my hunt shall lead me to that paradise where pure consciousness becomes my constant companion. With that shall come deliverence.
Om Namah Shivaya
Om Namah Shivaya
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
Fried Chicken, Rain-drenched Bombay
Bombay welcomed me back with a drizzle and a message from Airtel Mumbai as Rajesh and I stepped out onto the tarmac at 10.30 pm on a friday evening.
It had been a long time since I had been here. Years. But the sights, sounds and smells that engulfed me, as we clambered into an auto outside the airport, were all too familiar. It was as if I had never been away and the intervening years dissolved into some memory at the back of my mind. The auto did make a couple of wrong turns but finally deposited us outside the hotel. Having secured a room, we headed downstairs to provide fortifications to the sundowners that we had met at Bangalore airport with a generous helping of nightcap. And we philosophized. A lot. Philosophy, I always maintain, blossoms when spirits are rekindled and the mind wanders free.
Bombay never sleeps. When we went out for a walk at 1.00 am at night, the streets were alive and vibrant though it was still drizzling a bit. The traffic was thin, but there were people everywhere, drinking tea, having chats at trolley-shops, and just hanging out and chatting. Common people like us, people determined to prevail in the face of the daily pressures, resolutely seeking out their own special time, demanding happiness at their own terms. This is the magic of Bombai Nagri, it shows you life for what it is and strengthens you with its own vibrancy to face life every day. You have to stay in Bombay as a resident to know what I mean. When I lived in Bombay ten years back, I had tuned in to that vibrancy and that evening I tuned myself back. And after a long time I took a good look myself and took stock. The rain had drenched me and water had gotten into my shoes, each step making a squishy-squashy sound, but I felt good. It is not everyday find yourself equal to challenging your own convictions.
Evening, the next day. It was still raining persistently. The day had been a tiring one, but I just had to see the Gateway one more time. It was just after seven that we got into the taxi, which transported me instantly to nostalgia-ville. So many memories were tied to the Gateway and Fort. Among the most precious was the time that I was there with my Dad, Mom and Tutun. One of our last outings with Dad. There were memories also of hanging out there with friends in Bombay and of that one new years eve spent in the shadows of the Gateway, shouting in the new year alongside thousands upon thousands of people. Rajesh and Srinivas Aravili, joined me on this pilgrimage. The taxi winded its way through Mahim, Worli, Siddhi Vinayak, Haji Ali, Peddar Road, Marine Drive (now called Netaji Subhas Bose Road) and finally stopped in front of the gateway. The ride lasted for about two bone rattling hours.
The Gateway was, as ever, a hub of activity. Unmindful of the drizzle, people were generally milling about taking leisurely walks. Some were sitting on the parapet munching on corn or peanuts, which people here call time pass. A group of kids were getting their picture taken and a dogged street vendor was chasing a group of white tourists, who were stoically ignoring his sales pitch. There were a few horse drawn carriages hanging about the place, waiting patiently for their fare. The horses shook their heads once in a while to get the water out and created mini-showers of their own. In the background, fashionable people in expensive cars made it in and out of the Taj with a unceasing regularity. I wondered how many of them were even aware of the dreamlike magic that was unfolding just outside.
The Gateway of India, which was erected to welcome the British royalty, in a wondrous twist of fate, had also served as an exit route for the British Military as they finally left Independent India. We circumnavigated to the front of the gate facing the wind swept sea front and stood awhile in silence watching the dark sea. Talk was irrelevant, as we all soaked in the Gateway experience. I relived old memories and formed new ones. After a while a growling stomach reminded me of my promise to take my friends to my old haunt - Bagdadi. Tucked away in a nondescript street right behind Taj, this is a place, which for generations have been the veritable heaven of chicken delicacies. The place looks rather ramshackle, but the cooks there are real magicians.
What can I say about the food, it was transcendental. The fried chicken is a must there, which they serve with fried potato and so is Chicken Masala. Therefore I had both. Rajesh had a Kashmiri Chicken and Srini, the ever staunch vegetarian, a potato preparation. I overate. Actually if there was any space left I would have eaten more, but as it was, my stomach was looking dangerously bloated. My eyes, however were half closed and I was smiling a blissful smile of a Yogi.
Lightheaded from a heavy dinner, we walked lazily through the rain drenched and dimly lit Fort Bombay streets, once in a while making a comment when something caught our notice. We walked past Regal theater upto the Police Headquarters, when suddenly the rain intensified a bit and we took shelter inside Cafe Royal, a rather up market watering hole. It wasn't there when I lived in Bombay or maybe I hadn't noticed. Time flew nicely along once we settled inside in a cosy corner and we conveniently lost track of its flight path. The cafe appeared to be the hang out of the hep crowd of Bombay and hummed with the typical Bombaia high class talk. We, being true Bangaloreans, discussed the finer points of J2EE clustering rather loudly. We left quite late and noticed that even then there were people who were just coming in. Any plans of resuming our walk that we may have had were scuttled by the continuing downpour and we hastily made our way to a Taxi.
On our journey back, we saw the waves on Marine drive were lashing up onto the road and predictably people were still there, enjoying it all in the true Bombay e-style. I sang the whole way back. It was a cruel thing to do - for Srini was looking rather faint, Rajesh stopped the taxi to procure some serious fortification and the driver took us back through a short-cut. Once back Srini went away to sleep. Rajesh and I sat down to re-philosophize. Rajesh asked me some deep questions that I have been afraid to ask myself and for which I had no ready answers. But I was grateful that he had asked. He also made a number of sage pronouncements, such as - Pee Pee Jab Tak Hai Gee, Jab Nahin rahega Gee, Tab Kaun Kahega Pee and many such like others. I am sure it was the effect of my singing in the Taxi that had shocked out the hidden sage in him. We laughed a lot. Not wanting to end the day we talked deep into the night.
Next day evening, it was already time to head back. As the plane took flight I summarized in my mind what this trip had done for me. Besides being a long overdue change of scenery, Bombay had prompted me to look at myself with objectivity and ask some rather unsettling questions. I don't have the answers yet, but if I didn't ask these I would have never had any. Now, I would like to believe that I have a chance at finding at least some answers and effecting some course corrections. And after a long time I felt light hearted. In hind sight I suppose these were the best gift Bombay could have given me. Salaam Bombay.
The plane made it to Bangalore in time. Armed with a rose and the promise of a surprise gift if I made a purchase at a big store, I stepped out into the cool night of the place that in my heart I call home.
Bombay welcomed me back with a drizzle and a message from Airtel Mumbai as Rajesh and I stepped out onto the tarmac at 10.30 pm on a friday evening.
It had been a long time since I had been here. Years. But the sights, sounds and smells that engulfed me, as we clambered into an auto outside the airport, were all too familiar. It was as if I had never been away and the intervening years dissolved into some memory at the back of my mind. The auto did make a couple of wrong turns but finally deposited us outside the hotel. Having secured a room, we headed downstairs to provide fortifications to the sundowners that we had met at Bangalore airport with a generous helping of nightcap. And we philosophized. A lot. Philosophy, I always maintain, blossoms when spirits are rekindled and the mind wanders free.
Bombay never sleeps. When we went out for a walk at 1.00 am at night, the streets were alive and vibrant though it was still drizzling a bit. The traffic was thin, but there were people everywhere, drinking tea, having chats at trolley-shops, and just hanging out and chatting. Common people like us, people determined to prevail in the face of the daily pressures, resolutely seeking out their own special time, demanding happiness at their own terms. This is the magic of Bombai Nagri, it shows you life for what it is and strengthens you with its own vibrancy to face life every day. You have to stay in Bombay as a resident to know what I mean. When I lived in Bombay ten years back, I had tuned in to that vibrancy and that evening I tuned myself back. And after a long time I took a good look myself and took stock. The rain had drenched me and water had gotten into my shoes, each step making a squishy-squashy sound, but I felt good. It is not everyday find yourself equal to challenging your own convictions.
Evening, the next day. It was still raining persistently. The day had been a tiring one, but I just had to see the Gateway one more time. It was just after seven that we got into the taxi, which transported me instantly to nostalgia-ville. So many memories were tied to the Gateway and Fort. Among the most precious was the time that I was there with my Dad, Mom and Tutun. One of our last outings with Dad. There were memories also of hanging out there with friends in Bombay and of that one new years eve spent in the shadows of the Gateway, shouting in the new year alongside thousands upon thousands of people. Rajesh and Srinivas Aravili, joined me on this pilgrimage. The taxi winded its way through Mahim, Worli, Siddhi Vinayak, Haji Ali, Peddar Road, Marine Drive (now called Netaji Subhas Bose Road) and finally stopped in front of the gateway. The ride lasted for about two bone rattling hours.
The Gateway was, as ever, a hub of activity. Unmindful of the drizzle, people were generally milling about taking leisurely walks. Some were sitting on the parapet munching on corn or peanuts, which people here call time pass. A group of kids were getting their picture taken and a dogged street vendor was chasing a group of white tourists, who were stoically ignoring his sales pitch. There were a few horse drawn carriages hanging about the place, waiting patiently for their fare. The horses shook their heads once in a while to get the water out and created mini-showers of their own. In the background, fashionable people in expensive cars made it in and out of the Taj with a unceasing regularity. I wondered how many of them were even aware of the dreamlike magic that was unfolding just outside.
The Gateway of India, which was erected to welcome the British royalty, in a wondrous twist of fate, had also served as an exit route for the British Military as they finally left Independent India. We circumnavigated to the front of the gate facing the wind swept sea front and stood awhile in silence watching the dark sea. Talk was irrelevant, as we all soaked in the Gateway experience. I relived old memories and formed new ones. After a while a growling stomach reminded me of my promise to take my friends to my old haunt - Bagdadi. Tucked away in a nondescript street right behind Taj, this is a place, which for generations have been the veritable heaven of chicken delicacies. The place looks rather ramshackle, but the cooks there are real magicians.
What can I say about the food, it was transcendental. The fried chicken is a must there, which they serve with fried potato and so is Chicken Masala. Therefore I had both. Rajesh had a Kashmiri Chicken and Srini, the ever staunch vegetarian, a potato preparation. I overate. Actually if there was any space left I would have eaten more, but as it was, my stomach was looking dangerously bloated. My eyes, however were half closed and I was smiling a blissful smile of a Yogi.
Lightheaded from a heavy dinner, we walked lazily through the rain drenched and dimly lit Fort Bombay streets, once in a while making a comment when something caught our notice. We walked past Regal theater upto the Police Headquarters, when suddenly the rain intensified a bit and we took shelter inside Cafe Royal, a rather up market watering hole. It wasn't there when I lived in Bombay or maybe I hadn't noticed. Time flew nicely along once we settled inside in a cosy corner and we conveniently lost track of its flight path. The cafe appeared to be the hang out of the hep crowd of Bombay and hummed with the typical Bombaia high class talk. We, being true Bangaloreans, discussed the finer points of J2EE clustering rather loudly. We left quite late and noticed that even then there were people who were just coming in. Any plans of resuming our walk that we may have had were scuttled by the continuing downpour and we hastily made our way to a Taxi.
On our journey back, we saw the waves on Marine drive were lashing up onto the road and predictably people were still there, enjoying it all in the true Bombay e-style. I sang the whole way back. It was a cruel thing to do - for Srini was looking rather faint, Rajesh stopped the taxi to procure some serious fortification and the driver took us back through a short-cut. Once back Srini went away to sleep. Rajesh and I sat down to re-philosophize. Rajesh asked me some deep questions that I have been afraid to ask myself and for which I had no ready answers. But I was grateful that he had asked. He also made a number of sage pronouncements, such as - Pee Pee Jab Tak Hai Gee, Jab Nahin rahega Gee, Tab Kaun Kahega Pee and many such like others. I am sure it was the effect of my singing in the Taxi that had shocked out the hidden sage in him. We laughed a lot. Not wanting to end the day we talked deep into the night.
Next day evening, it was already time to head back. As the plane took flight I summarized in my mind what this trip had done for me. Besides being a long overdue change of scenery, Bombay had prompted me to look at myself with objectivity and ask some rather unsettling questions. I don't have the answers yet, but if I didn't ask these I would have never had any. Now, I would like to believe that I have a chance at finding at least some answers and effecting some course corrections. And after a long time I felt light hearted. In hind sight I suppose these were the best gift Bombay could have given me. Salaam Bombay.
The plane made it to Bangalore in time. Armed with a rose and the promise of a surprise gift if I made a purchase at a big store, I stepped out into the cool night of the place that in my heart I call home.
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