Time

Walking A Gatha

Flash Fiction

**Dancing shadows and light…**
[Image by Kanenori from Pixabay]

Walking straight, walking on the mountain listening to ‘The Times They Are A Changin‘ I saw nothing, neither the trees nor the rocks, neither the shadow nor the light, and just kept walking ahead. Mountain spoke, I didn’t hear, until I bent a little.

It said, ‘You will reach your destination, you will, for sure’, and happily I smiled, crossed my hands behind my back and continued walking.

Swiftly I moved forward, there was no stopping me. Dashing ahead I crossed jungles after jungles, I played with the shadows and the light, I didn’t even wait for the wind.

Like a curse, definitely a curse, a disaster hit me – I started panting. It had never happened all this while, why now?

Then I remembered faintly of what the mountain told me… I pleaded it to guide me again, the mountain listened. It said, ‘Know patience and its power’, I bowed down and stopped walking. I stopped for the first time in my journey; I learned the art of deep breathing. Ages passed there; then I left in search.

In search of what I was looking for. I was looking for what I was in search of.

**Sing and walk along the river.**
[Image by Sergio Cerrato – Italia from Pixabay]

Familiar with the pace of the trees canopying me, stopping and listening to the rocks and their untold gathas, attuned with the shadow and the light, I kept walking when I reached near a ferociously musical river. It carried along the ocean’s depth and waves’ nimble notes… ‘Will merge with the ocean, I do not wait for anyone’, replied the river to my question – ‘can you please let me pass?’

So I changed my path and followed the river. Who said you can’t? Change… change and move ahead.

Right where the river met the ocean, where it all seemed to end, where the trees, rocks, shadow and light all disappeared, music stayed by my side and showed me a narrow, slippery way to cross the river. I stepped in, the water was cold, but shallow and so I could cross easily.

With joy and cheer I continued along, I danced on the way, I slept peacefully and then walked leisurely. I sang, the tune echoed. My mind envisioned a valley of flowers and pink clouds when suddenly I tumbled down.

I was hurt. My dream shattered and cold winds bruised me badly. It started hailing. Troubled, I shouted angrily… who knows at whom?

The weather opposed me and pinned me down, I accepted defeat.

Lying half dead, I waited for the weather to change…

When it did, I woke up and saw as the fog disappeared that there was a huge mountain standing in front of me. I couldn’t stop smiling, a new journey was going to begin.

**Majestic, towering and free!**
[Image by Joe from Pixabay]

Climbing the mountain I listened again to Dylan’s ‘The Times They Are A Changin‘. I didn’t know it, but I was free.

I have always been free.

Listen to ‘The Times They Are A Changin’ by Bob Dylan now –

And read the lyrics here.

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Unforgettably Yours

Posted on May 19, 2017 by Jagriti Rumi Everything Flash Fiction Forget Not Happily Journey Life Mistake Nothing Remember Smile Stories Unforgettably Yours Worshipped Time

Flash Fiction

I dare you to forget not. Forget what not? Try to remember… remember that day when…

… for the first time you crawled… you struggled to walk… you hopped all along… you won a race… you tap danced with grace… you came in style… you left wearing a smile… you befriended the walking stick… you crawled for the second time…

… for the first time you were loved… you were pampered… you were jealous… you were told to share… you were lonely… you made a friend… you believed in dreams… you knew true joy… you hurt yourself… you stood up… you worshipped time… you quietly realised… you happily understood… you loved them back…

… for the first time you felt you knew absolutely nothing… you followed their path… you managed to survive… you built a new track… you knew right is right and wrong, wrong… you travelled in time… you accepted the change… you thoroughly read writings in brief… you said of course… you said not at all… you repented and laughed at the mistake… you cheered your take… you declared that you still knew absolutely nothing…

Everything is forgotten on the way, but the journey goes on… the journey that is unforgettably yours.

**“Don’t forget now, alright? Go, leave, carry on!”**
**[Image by Lin Tong from Pixabay]**

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Nataraja

Posted on July 20, 2016 by Jagriti Rumi All Bliss Cosmos Journey Life Maya Perfection Shiva Nataraja the Lord of Dance The Cosmic Power Time Universe

Coverage

**The Nataraja!**
**[Image from Pixabay]**

A static symbol of the dynamic universe, an illusion, Maya, moving rhythmically, revealing in an instant the unfathomable divine, the perfect balance that creates, preserves, destroys, incarnates and liberates, the Nataraja, performing the ultimate dance, is a magnificent work of art that reflects the cosmos – the beginning and the end of the cosmos, the music of the cosmos and the soul of the cosmos.

The Nataraja sculpture represents all – the destined journey, the tragic fall, the glorious victory, the dance in time and timelessness, the poise and elegance, overwhelming stillness, reverberating brightness, brilliance, power and enlightenment. In a single spectacle, it shows what was, what is and what will be.

**Blissful perfection.**
**[Image from Pixabay]**

Shiva Nataraja, the King of Dance, dances on Apasmara, a dwarf, crushing not him, but his ignorance, forgetfulness and limited vision of self, hence freeing his soul from bondage. Four armed – with Agni (flame) to demolish in one, with Damru (drum) playing the tune of time in second, making the Abhaya Mudra (the sign of fearlessness) in the third, thus bestowing power to be without fear, and the fourth in the Gahahasta (elephant trunk) Mudra signifying supremacy over ignorance – Nataraja is the embodiment of all the vigorous flux in the outer world and the serenity in the inner world as he dances the dance of bliss, Ananda Tandava, continuing the harmony of life and death in the cosmos.

Prahabhamandala, the arch of flames within which Nataraja dances, is the manifest universe, making the cycle of birth and death, burning with sufferings and illusions, apparent.

Also, a ring of consciousness that is in agony as it’s blinded by temporary ideas, unaware about the permanent dance of bliss. Oblivious of the Kundalini Shakti (the cosmic power) – that the cobra around Nataraja’s waist represents and is believed to reside in all – the unconscious mind walks cyclically.

Lotus flower, representing the creative power of the universe, forms the pedestal on which the Nataraja dances, celebrating in full zest the dance of true freedom.

Omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, the Nataraja does a dance that occurs ceaselessly in every atom, sending waves in the cosmos, waking everyone from the dream world to witness reality and truth, destroying the phantom world full of phantom pains.

Neutrality and peace on Nataraja’s face – the One dancing in frenzy – mirrors the magic of the master who dances within the universe of illusion, but stays beyond that universe. In a palpable language, the Nataraja declares the way the soul can rise from its bonded life and with equality seeping within, can see and participate in the cosmic dance.

**Wall relief of dancing Shiva at cave temple no.1 in Badami, Karnataka, India.**
**[Source – Wikimedia Commons]**

This marvellous sculpture amalgamates supreme power and action with absolute bliss and beauty, radiates the delicate balance of the cosmos and magnifies the close connection between the One and the many. Nataraja, Mahakala (the Lord of Time), with continuity and change flowing throughout becomes an opportunity to understand the sublimity of Maya and work a way out to reach the immutable Presence.

The Nataraja is excellence. Meditating on it is achieving its essence. Its essence is pure excellence.

**Shiva Nataraja, the Lord of Dance at CERN, the European Center for Research in Particle Physics in Geneva.**
**[Source – Wikimedia Commons]**

Hundreds of years ago, Indian artists created visual images of dancing Shivas in a beautiful series of bronzes. In our time, physicists have used the most advanced technology to portray the patterns of the cosmic dance. The metaphor of the cosmic dance thus unifies ancient mythology, religious art and modern physics.

Fritjof Capra

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Some-Lovely-Funny-Times

Posted on December 12, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi Diya Eyes Far Forever and one second is just the same Lives Some-lovely-funny-times Sometimes Stone Cut Stairs Stories Temple

Observation

**Come along…**
[Image by James Smith from Pixabay]

Alice: How long is forever?

White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.

-Lewis Carrol

I closed my eyes and saw the stone cut stairs, broad and homely, stretching from the bottom of the hill to the top, where the age old, beautifully carved and gloriously coloured temple lives. Yes, the temple lives, breathing in prayers and breathing out peace. A magical quietness stops the spinning mind and grants the warmth of love.

Little feet try to reach the bell, failing, but trying, finally adding to the music flowing in the air a happy ‘tan-tan-tan’. Not understanding the images, the big bold eyes, the lion’s roar, its the splash of colours –golden, red, yellow, green- all sparkling gallantly, that enters within to stay. Round and round the temple, the giant smiling peepal tree, flowers in the wind, red threads tied in every direction, the burnt silenced diya, the rich kohl, and faith in miracles, all together makes the earth reverberate.

I am walking in the temple, eating the prasad and savouring the air, the green leaves and the time. Yes, the time, unknowingly I am moving ahead. What seemed eternal has now elapsed in what I thought were years, were just a few funny seconds. Funny because when I opened my eyes, I didn’t see the stone cut stairs or the old temple…

Following the melodies, the colours, the laughs, baffled at every point, blessed now and then, a bit complacent and a bit more naive, I have reached so far. I cannot foresee, but I know now that sometimes, forever and one second is just the same.

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She

Posted on October 18, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi Border Burned Guitar Doubtful Star Dreamlike Extraordinary Journey Joy Magical Milky Way Mirror Pride Puzzle She Spirituality Time

Flash Fiction

She is just ten years old. Talkative and curious by nature, she wishes to know, but only about the magical, the dreamlike and the pleasing.

Her world is of all the shades of pink. With the warmth of an honest, caring canopy overhead, she looks at the stars and floats in the Milky Way.

There is ample clarity in everything she sees and time’s her friend – blistering fast or dragging slow. There is only one melody she is tuned to and it is called life.

**She is living in her own world, within and without.**
**Image from Pixabay.**

She is young and brave. Quietly, she observes the world and the world within her, laughs at her.

Battling the questions and transforming the answers, she moves ahead with every failure and tries to fathom the success.

A mirror walks with her; she has broken it umpteen times but they are still in a relationship. Her cries, her sighs, her laughs, her smiles, her ways and one life… all packed in a rucksack is her pride and joy.

The doubtful star burns with her glare and the rhythm of change trespasses the old.

She is living for others now and has placed herself on the top shelf, in a green trunk, under an old book. Close to many and far from herself, she is standing on the border – this way or that way… her life is slipping away…

She just woke up and whatever was under the old book, in a green trunk, on the top shelf she burned that rusted world to dust.

Walking on ashes, she turns black and grey until the mirror returns. It is not going to be joyous all through, but she doesn’t mind the sound of a burned guitar.

They say she is weak and crouched, that she hears less and that her wrinkles make her a puzzle. A puzzle indeed and a child from within, no one knows what a good time she is having.

Her old eyes shine like a starry night and things magically appear and disappear with her touch. The words cannot express bliss; she is singing, hear this – ‘La-la, li-li, o, la-la, li-li’.

She is extraordinary. She is over there, can you see her? I know you can.

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A Stream

Posted on August 29, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi A Green Leaf A Paper Boat A Stream A Yellow Flower Time

Flash Fiction

First there came a yellow flower, flowing like silk on a surface. The stream turned into silk. It told me a short story about the silk thread that draped the yellow flower. They swayed together with the wind. Then someone came and took the silk thread and threw the yellow flower in the stream. ‘A happy ending’, were the last words of the yellow flower.

Then a green leaf floated by and said, ‘I always thought where the stream goes… I’ll get to know it now.’ It danced away with the flowing water.

The stones quietly listened to the stream and stayed there for a long time. Now each stone, of every shape and size, carries a story with it. If heard sincerely, the stones narrate the stories beautifully.

A paper boat rushed quickly and embraced the whirlpool. It then lowered the anchor forever.

The stream is musical; I have been sitting here for a long time now and enjoying the melodies. I dipped my feet in the cool, clear water. Then, suddenly, the stream started talking about the flow of time. I got up immediately.

I am walking along the stream. Twists and turns welcome me here and there, but we are walking.

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The Mystical Mountains

Posted on March 18, 2015 by Jagriti Rumi Look Within Meditate The Mystical Mountains Time Traveller Vanishing Flowers

Flash Fiction

Beyond the valley of the vanishing flowers and the green lake where nymphs are still said to be seen, lies the grand mountain range known everywhere as the Mystical Mountains. The journey for anyone to reach these mountains starts from within.

The traveller has to meditate for a long period of time, centering his attention on the Mystical Mountains. Then when it is destined, the traveller has a vision and what one sees becomes the first clue. Usually it is an animal that one sees; a dragon, a wolf, a snake or an eagle, it can be anything. The traveller then has to face the animal; if victorious, the animal becomes the traveller’s ally and shows the path ahead. Sometimes it takes a few days, a few months, a few years to cross the valley of the vanishing flowers and the green lake and sometimes one isn’t able to cross it at all. But the one who does reach the Mystical Mountains meets ecstasy.

Every individual is meant to be there and for each one the mountains hold a miracle, a mystery to be solved and a reward worth spending a lifetime for. Those who return from the Mystical Mountains come back with a task in hand to finish it in a definite period of time. Such a person is like a Samurai, a Monk, a Yodha, untroubled by the material bonding and full of the life force. The magnanimity of such a few selected ones attracts the like-minded and gives them the idea about the spectacles that awaits them in the Mystical Mountains. Thus, a new mind, a new traveller set for a new journey to reach the Mystical Mountains, taking the first step to look within.