Eternally Rumi

You and I

A moment of happiness,
you and I sitting on the verandah,
apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.
We feel the flowing water of life here,
you and I, with the garden's beauty
and the birds singing.
The stars will be watching us,
and we will show them
what it is to be a thin crescent moon.
You and I unselfed, will be together,
indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.
The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar
as we laugh together, you and I.
In one form upon this earth,
and in another form in a timeless sweet land. 

- Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

Sincerely yours...

A bustling city like Bengaluru is perhaps the place you look at high rise malls, endless traffic, and people scurrying to work or home like ants and presume that here people have time for not even themselves. In any case, you do not expect anyone to have time for any lesser creature than humans. At least that is what I thought till the time I came out of an ATM on the perennially busy MG road. There was a stair case leading down from the metro station above right in front. An adult rhesus monkey was coming down the flight of stairs, oblivious to the thick traffic blaring away their horns and hooters. It appeared as though he owned that place and it is at his will that maddening world went around him. Curious to see what he is going to do next, I stood there watching. He reached the last but one step and squatted himself comfortably, neither looking at the traffic nor at people hurrying around. His gaze was fixed at something ahead. I followed his gaze and found one elderly women on the footpath selling variety of things, including nick-knacks. Then I saw this man approaching her wearing a well-worn working dress with grime and grease all over. He gave some coins to the women in exchange of what looked like a small packet of biscuits. He patients opened the packet, pulled out one and patiently walked over to where the monkey was seated. He stretched the biscuit towards the monkey, who in turn stretched out one hand and took it from him. Then the monkey went about munching the biscuit as though he had all the time in the world. The man waited attentively and proceeded to feed that fellow with two more. The final stock of two biscuits were then handed over to the monkey in one go. Clutching both in its lips, the monkey turned around, climbed the flight of stairs and perched himself comfortably on the railing of the landing. There he went about finishing those two biscuits with same unhurried indulgence. By now the monkey curiosity in me was at its peak and I slowly walked upto where the man was standing next to the women seller. In colloquial Tamil, the woman said to him, “Poor thing. We can only give him some biscuits. Don’t know what he will do for water?” The man nodded sadly, tut-tutting her as though he regretted not having arranged for a bowl of water to go with biscuits.

In the din of my thoughts that followed, I didn’t register the maddening honks of traffic. Here I was thinking of the grand mansion that I will make for my family to live forever, of the great properties and monies that I will bequeath to my progeny and the grand pomp and grandeur with which I will glorify myself as I walk towards my sunset years…and, this man who perhaps is not earning enough to eat three square meals a day tut-tutting his regret for not having brought a bowl of water for a stray monkey. There is a lot of commotion inside me right now. When it settles down, perhaps I shall share some more thoughts. Till then….        

Being Quiet

Is being quiet a sign of self-control? Does it signify that we are the masters of our environment and that we are unfazed in adversity for we know what to do?

These are interesting questions, but not certainly the first time someone has asked them. Psychologists would give voluminous explanations and psychiatrists perhaps would schedule sessions to help us discover the answer. I think even religionists would like to be in the pantheon of experts. They may tell us that a mind that dwells in God fears nothing, for it is His will that guides us and destiny therefore is not to be scared of, but prayed for. I am neither a psyche nor a shrink or for that matter consider myself religious enough. Though being neither does not seem to inhibit me from having an opinion.

Life is a lesson that we continue to learn, whether we are conscious about doing so or pretty well unconscious. From childhood we gather impressions, by impulses and by indoctrination. Five physical senses give the impulse and we act or react; environment comprising of parents, neighborhood, school, friends and the society at large indoctrinates us with a sense of right-wrong, do-don’t, and know-ignores. Some people learn about most of everything. Some master some, and average at others. Some ignore most and best at few. Some others die without making much effort at anything. That is the permutations and combinations, but the opportunities to learn neither multiply nor diminish. They remain constant, while we individually make it in some combination. Depending on which strata we achieve we manage to handle things well pertaining to the strata that we have made it to. When we faced with a situation that we have managed not yet to deal with, we have a choice: we can set about learning to handle or we can be ‘quiet’. Quiet in this sense does not mean being comfortable with the situation. It simply means that we do not see the opportunity to unravel something more about life and therefore choose to remain quiet.

People who manage to learn about most are also quiet sometimes. They are quiet not out of the inability to sense an opportunity. But the ability to sense that something they not yet know is in front and they need to collect the wisdom of their cumulative learning and energies to go about discovering their new lessons. They are about to become Columbus of the unknown – the dimensions in their own self that they have not as yet discovered.

Being quiet of the second kind is the choice of those who seek life. For in the words of Khalil Gibran:

Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.

But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.

You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.

You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

And it is well you should.

The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;

And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.

But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;

And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.

For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."

Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."

For the soul walks upon all paths.

The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.

The soul unfolds itself like a lotus of countless petals.

Where do they lie the ruling heart...

This poem comes from my son, Deepak:

Wer do thy lie the ruling heart!
To the wanted love it must see,
Or to the wanted dreams it longs to be
Courage it has shown in the darkest of life,
Fighting and swaying yet marching to thy end of land,
Touching those who havnt been touched,
Taking those who have been along,

Wer do thy lie the ruling heart!
To see the unseen yet unsee the seen ,
Taking roads which havnt been
Making trails for the ones behind,
For it is them who can stay wen the sun is gone

Wer do thy lie the ruling heart!
Loving those who havnt been loved,
Yet caring for those who havnt been cared,
With a dream it marches on
Only for those who dream so long.

When the rose is gone...

When The Rose Is Gone

When the rose is gone and the garden faded
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil. 
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.
If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.
How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth

- Rumi

When I Die - Poem by Rumi

When I Die

When I die
when my coffin
is being taken out
you must never think
i am missing this world

don't shed any tears
don't lament or
feel sorry
i'm not falling
into a monster's abyss

when you see
my corpse is being carried
don't cry for my leaving
i'm not leaving
i'm arriving at eternal love

when you leave me
in the grave
don't say goodbye
remember a grave is
only a curtain
for the paradise behind

you'll only see me
descending into a grave
now watch me rise
how can there be an end
when the sun sets or
the moon goes down

it looks like the end
it seems like a sunset
but in reality it is a dawn
when the grave locks you up
that is when your soul is freed

have you ever seen
a seed fallen to earth
not rise with a new life
why should you doubt the rise
of a seed named human

have you ever seen
a bucket lowered into a well
coming back empty
why lament for a soul
when it can come back
like Joseph from the well

when for the last time
you close your mouth
your words and soul
will belong to the world of
no place no time

Life gives a chance

It happened in a flash of a moment - literally. Barely five feet to go to the exit, the fireball enveloped me. The heat seared through my skin and thick black smoke made it impossible to breath. Five or ten seconds more, I would have become tandoor...roasted alive. Then it occurred to one of my companions to tear open the door and I tumbled out, followed by a huge fireball, movie style, close on my heels.

Rest of the events are pretty imaginable. whisked away to first aid post and transported 200 km to the nearest hospital, twenty agonizing days to substantial recovery, the support and goodwill of my staff, friends and colleagues to my wife and the tender care by hospital staff.... I suppose a mere thank you to all of them would be never enough. I presume Santosh Gupta, Choudhary, Satya, Banu Pratap, Chandrasekhar Y Pawar, Durgaprasad, Brijesh Kumar, Devika, Brinda, Anju Kumari, VK Sharma, SV Syed, Surya Bhattacharya, Ambika, Farah Patil, and my dear Mona have become now part of my living memory. May God bless them all and grant them His liberal grace in all their life's undertakings.

Throughout those twenty days, somethings else kept playing out in my mind like a gramophone record - those few moments when I stood inside the envelope of fire. Strangely, I did not feel an iota of fear. Fully aware that the fireball has me in its grip, I was conscious of just three things: one, I may last a few more moments; two, I should not change the direction in which I was going (towards the exit) for I would get disoriented soon; three, not to look around since my eyes will burn out. Keeping both my fore arms to cover my face, I just proceeded ahead, in time to tumble out of the entrance. In fact my hands got burnt in the process of opening the cover on the entrance when one of assistants also helped to pull me out.

I kept asking myself as to how come I did not panic; how the mind remained absolutely clear and unfazed. While a score of explanations like upbringing, training, attitude, physical stamina, etc, kept popping up, the simplest of the explanations holds the fort - life gives a chance. It always and in every absurdly hopeless situation too, it gives a chance. Like Paulo Coelho says, the symbols are ever present. It is upto us to take it and move forward or ignore and be done with.

Osho in every breath says that it is being aware which is essential. Be aware. Awareness is life and not being aware is death. Life calls for an awareness of our being that is beyond mere physical senses. It is transcendental in nature. Every time there is a close call, believe that life is actually giving us a chance. Take it.