Sitting on the bench under the tree, Bob was simply gazing. It wasn’t a garden so to say, just a bit of shade and a place to rest; though quite attractive for some, like it was for Bob.
He had kept his packet next to him and was looking very comfortable on that bench. His eyes were staring in one direction but his ears were catching all the noise he was surrounded by.
In such a place where one could not think about concentrating on one element, Bob was surprised by his focused mind.
He felt like a spectator who was looking at a live performance, not involved himself rather just witnessing it.
Even if he wanted he didn’t see individual actions. What he saw was a mass flow. Everyone was dashing in one or the other direction; by foot or by a vehicle; some looking happy but mostly stressed.
Strangely Bob questioned himself, ‘Where are they going?’ He was dumbstruck. He couldn’t assess the reason for such a rush.
Bob had a feeling that they all should stop and look upwards. It was getting dark but the sky was still reddish-orange. Indeed, it was a pleasant sight.
He had a strong urge to ask everyone to enjoy the rich colours, to capture the sky’s vastness and to wait for the first visible star; only to then relish the starry night.
Bob got up. He tried to shout at everyone present in the scene but his voice failed. After a few seconds, he finally said, ‘everyone, look up at the sky.’ But it wasn’t a shout, in fact, his message was pitched below his normal level.
A person, who was just passing him, stopped and started looking upwards. He asked Bob, ‘What is it?’ Bob was alarmed, he didn’t expect any questions. Bob replied in a confused tone, ‘Just…just…have a look.’
Looking hard at the sky that person again inquired Bob, ‘But what is it?’ Bob was speechless. His mind was scattered once again.
A lot of thoughts entered him and knocked his focus down. Bob managed to say, ‘It is beautiful…the sky…?’ That person left Bob with a cold look, munching some harsh words on his way.
Rubbing his face Bob asked himself, ‘What was I trying to do?’ He had no clue. He checked his watch, almost twenty minutes had passed. He took a deep sigh.
A couple crossed him, they had the same bag as he had. Suddenly he looked at his bag, then his watch and took to feet immediately.
Bob’s mind was shouting in bold letters, he could see it through his inner eye. It was repeating some words continuously- ‘THE BAG…YOU ARE LATE…BAG…LATE…BAG…SO DEAD.’
Bob walked so quickly that soon he merged with the crowd. With all those who didn’t hear his message.
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The blogger wrote this post long, long, long back, and probably when she was feeling utterly hopeless.
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Dear reader, check out the following posts to rekindle hope and joy within (you too may read it, o-me-from-the-past):-
Spirited Away and the Art of Forgetfulness
Paper-Light-Lemon-Fresh-Stories
The Old Fortune-Teller’s Special Offer
Ninety-Nine Times out of a Hundred
Life-Affirming Pair of Socks with Three Holes in It
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La la la
I am dancing
La la la
I am laughing
La la la
Sky is clear
La la la
Life is near
La la la
Brightness in me
La la la
Lightness in me
La la la
All I see
La la la
Is the glee
La la la
I am Miss
La la la
I know bliss
La la la
Tiara was singing this weird song. She was hopping in the garden. The flowers were looking at her and so were a white rabbit and a caterpillar.
Lost in the present, Tiara was happy. There was no particular reason behind it. Everything looked beautiful, pure.
A blue bird was sitting on a tree near the garden. She had a message for Tiara. It was full of lustre. The blue bird thought it was time to deliver the message.
Tiara, who was without a clue about it, was blushing with joy.
Joy that brings a big smile on your face, that makes you peaceful, that stops your mind from thinking and time from running.
The blue bird landed on the lawn and Tiara took notice of her. Their eyes met. Tiara immediately knew what she was meant to know.
The lustre will stay with her like a fragrance; all she needs is to remember.
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The glowing dust took me away
Bluish green and reddish grey
Nearby star: a dot of light
Peeking through the dusty night
Where am I? Earth or sky?
Dancing with gravity, can’t fly!
Still I am floating very high
In a hazy colourful sky
A strong fluorescent light touches me
Immersed, I try to see
Emptiness fitting all around and silence
Assuring me the Grand Presence
Sitting cross legged and eyes closed
I float with a pink rose.
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The place where the embodiment of peace, Gautama Buddha, found enlightenment was recently shaken by bomb blasts. The holy Bodh Gaya shrine became the target of those who believe in destruction. The government has started the probe and they are confident of finding the culprits. Meanwhile, the Buddhists are back to chanting and praying, back with the Lord himself.
Such blasts cannot stop what Gautama Buddha started. He commenced an inward journey; a journey to find oneself, to realise the inner self and hence attain inner peace. What the confused and angry minds cannot understand (and may never understand until they end their confusion and calm down) is that what Buddha taught and left behind is not stored in a shrine or in a scripture or in any physical form.
What he left is eternal and universal. It is in nature and it is nature. It can only be felt and realised and not be touched with bare hands. It is everywhere and in everyone waiting to get recognised.
The ones who stubbornly want to fight don’t know that Buddha is in them too. Buddha is in all of us; when we act purely, correctly and truly the Buddhahood shines in us too. How can something so powerful be destroyed? How can something so true be crossed? We mere mortals can never do so; our futile attempts will only look ridiculous.
You need not worry about any evil in this world; all you need is to reach the state of Buddhahood, to let it shine in you. Radiating light everywhere you’ll then fulfil the purpose of being you.
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We need to listen. We need to understand.
Calm yourself, close your eyes. Meditate. A vibration hits you. A circle is formed and your closed eyes can see it; luminous circle at the centre, full of life.
Don’t allow your mind to trick you and take you on a sensuous ride. Be wholly in that centre. Feel it.
Realise it and you’ll come to know the vastness of the universe, the music that the silence plays and the serenity present in every colour.
This experience will make you sublime.
You’ll then have a bit of universe, a bit of silent music and a bit of every colour in you.
At peace, you’ll make peace.
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Meditation is one of the greatest arts in life – perhaps the greatest, and one cannot possibly learn it from anybody, that is the beauty of it.
It has no technique and therefore, no authority.
Jiddu Krishnamurti
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Sujata – The Voice of the Unheard
Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam – A tale of role-reversals and downfalls
Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (That which moves is called a car)
Mrinal Sen’s Aakaler Shandhane (In Search of Famine)
La Strada And The Round-Faced Clown
Sherni – Even in the dense jungle, the tigress knows her way.
Gabbeh, the 1996 film, is a simple tale of a gipsy girl, her clan and the way their life goes on. Unfolding beautifully just like an artist painting a canvas, Gabbeh quietly touches the grand questions.
Essentially Gold, The Lavender Hill Mob
Ranked as one of the greatest British films of all time, The Lavender Hill Mob confides in the audience, letting them see, feel, laugh and think without tickling persuasively with a joke here and a punch-line there.
Regina Spektor’s Musical World – Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V
Of Monsters and Men and This Journey
The Circle Game, Joni Mitchell, You and Me
The Answer Is Blowin’ In The Wind
The Wonderful Mr. Tambourine Man Song
Weather Forecast Says Listen to George Ezra
The Choir and Their Toads Sing ‘Double Trouble’
Yes fly! For walking on the second track is dull and usual, but dreaming high, high, high requires tools. Tools like the right pair of shoes, a chirpy, gritty soul that eats butter-jam dreams, a soul that drinks milky-milky creams.
Silver cascade shimmering the night sky, music to the waves and surreal beauty to the eyes, the Moon loves the art of discipline.
It may be difficult to believe for the Moon’s splendour defies time, it stupefies the clock, it follows the path of a dreamer, but how could this be possible if the Moon knew not discipline?
In this moment, I am a little bit of this and a little bit of that, I am complete and incomplete, I am pleased and uncertain, I wish for nothing and I know I have to wait.
Because the distance covered reminds me of the hurdles I have crossed and the ones I could not, it reminds me of a throbbing past and a dreamy future and it reminds me of how much time is left.
A joy so complete without any rise or fall, so free without any time corners, so real without true being false, false being true.
