Writer

Buddhahood

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.

Dhauli Shanti Stupa, Bhubaneswar, Odisha [Photo by Jagriti Rumi]
Dhauli Shanti Stupa, Bhubaneswar, Odisha [Photo by Jagriti Rumi]
Dhauli Shanti Stupa, Bhubaneswar, Odisha [Photo by Jagriti Rumi]
Dhauli Shanti Stupa, Bhubaneswar, Odisha [Photo by Jagriti Rumi]
Dhauli Shanti Stupa, Bhubaneswar, Odisha [Photo by Jagriti Rumi]

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.

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

The Better Way

Posted on July 2, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Balcony Better Way Calmness Change Complete Folded Piece Of Paper Grandma Life Memories Message Old Book Photographs Smile Stories Thought

Flash Fiction

**Neatly folded and settled.**
**[Source – Pixabay]**

Kavya was searching for a book to read, only to pass that foggy evening. She was in her grandma’s house for vacation. Nothing but memories was left of her grandparents. A faint image entered her mind every time she thought of them- she is sitting beside them and her grandma is reading a book, they are on the balcony, soon she falls asleep, nevertheless feels the warmth because of their presence.

She was young now and restless. An idea came to her, she imagined herself sitting the way her grandma was sitting and reading, she felt that if she copied it she would get some of the serenity that her grandma had on her face. Strangely, Kavya could now see wholeness and contentment in her grandma’s eyes; calmness on her face; as if she is telling everyone to have faith…to believe; even the old monotone photographs of her grandma spoke the same whenever Kavya looked at them.

Finally, she picked a book and went outside on the balcony. Pulling a chair towards her she sat on it. She sighed…what for…she had no clue herself. Was it something in her life or was she simply missing her grandma? Maybe she sighed because we sometimes do, without knowing that we did.

There were two more pages to finish the first chapter, checked Kavya. She always did so. Kavya didn’t count herself in the category of the fervent readers, but among those who read because others read, because books are there to read and because they know reading is a good habit. There is nothing wrong with being in this category; it is just that you lag in one or the other way.

Trying to sit in a comfortable position Kavya got up and dragged the chair but while doing so she dropped the book. The book was old and some pages peeped out as soon as it hit the floor. ‘Oh!’ said Kavya. They say what happens, happens for the good. While placing the pages properly she found a folded piece of paper. Curiosity made her eyes big. She opened it; her grandma’s handwriting spoke to her. The words were few. It said ‘Just smile…it is the better way’ and under it were her grandma’s initials.

How quickly can things change, how strangely can people change, how fast the light passes in the darkness, right? Kavya couldn’t believe that she was suddenly full of happiness; spirited to do anything. She looked at the piece of paper once again and said, ‘Thank you grandma…thank you so much.’ She got up and left the balcony.

Indeed, Kavya didn’t finish that book but then she had something else to complete. The old book is back on the shelf but the message is with Kavya, which will stay with her forever.

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

Love or Flu?

Posted on June 20, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Aachoo Darling Doctor Flu Love Umbrella

**Me and my darling sauntering together before I,aachoo, excuse me, fell sick!**
**Image from Pixabay.**

Like a flower with dew drops

The colour of the evening sky

Enchanting aroma in the coffee shops

And that song by Gabrielle Pie

This is how I remember you

Because dear darling I love you

Aachoo! Silly doctors call it flu.

I was eager and almost ready

‘Going without Umbrella?’ enquired the landlady

I smiled and sauntered without care

As love was in the air

Smile disappeared instead the clouds appeared

Evil above me slowly, surely leered

I didn’t return only for you

Because dear darling I love you

Aachoo! But doctors call it flu.

My letter will reveal my pain

I know you know my tragedy

But why, why did it rain?

Sweet love, please accept my apology

I would have come in pain

If rushing was a good strategy

Very soon I will meet you

Doctor agrees with this plan too

First medicines and then only you

Aachoo! My Love this is flu!

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

A Memory in My Pocket

Posted on June 12, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Memory Paper Prose Poem Time Unfold Word

Prose Poem

**A Memory In My Pocket**
[Image by TanteTati from Pixabay]

I found a memory folded in a paper. I read it and it hit me.

The memory was not meant to meet me. It was draped with words that were very loud. Terse and cold.

It said ‘I am leaving you…forever’ with the initials Rosie.K.

I wondered how the person for whom this memory was meant dealt with it.

Naively, I searched around for Rosie.K, but the wind made my eyes wet instead.

I read and re-read the memory as if it would reveal some more of it through magical words.

Why do memories always make us halt, lying to us that we can play with time, even reverse it?

I folded the memory again and kept it in my jacket’s pocket.

It tickles me whenever it feels like making me unfold it.

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

Common Puzzle

Posted on June 10, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Common Puzzle Dreaming Foolishly Complain Oompa Loompas Pen

This happens every time without any exception. In my mind I am all set to study, I assure myself that today I’ll finish the topic I started a few days back.

No dragging the subject or dreaming about my success that will outshine others. Or thinking about friends and the golden time spent with them. With such a hope I sit and open my books.

Soon the evil forces put their plan to action against me and the funny thing is that their plan is always the same; and then I shout, ‘Where is my pen?’

**Puzzled by day dreams and decisions.** [**Image from Pixabay**]

I don’t know how but I always misplace my pen and then I can’t find it. Behind the books, under the table, on the chair…where!!!

I feel like Oompa Loompas are assigned this job to first hide the pen and then reveal it sitting in the silliest and most obvious place. All this breaks my concentration and I again find myself incapable of completing my goal.

Sometimes I keep my calm but mostly I foolishly complain.

My friend said that same happens with her, especially during the exam days. One thing or the other comes up to distract us- the sincere ones. And then we laugh at our brazenness.

So anyway, this is a puzzle shared by all, I guess. What do you say?

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

With A Painting

Posted on May 31, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Beauty Complete Deep Eyes Life Mind Painting Peace Pretty Curse

Flash Fiction

**[Source – a Hindi novel’s book cover; image by Jagriti Rumi]**

Deep eyes for whom are you waiting? You look like a forgotten painting hanging high on a wall of an old chalet. I wish to talk to you…come alive; the mortal world needs a touch of your beauty. Just for a few minutes or even a second will do…come alive.

A blink of your eyes might melt million hearts; your smile could dance in the darkness and glow. Lost in the hazy splendour, talk to us once or make a gesture.

Hypnotising colours that you are adorned with has the power of bringing serenity. Share some with me; one shade of it in my life and I’ll be seen flying without wings.

Surely you are waiting for someone but what is the pleasure in it? A beloved resides in your mind or… a question?

The elegance in you speaks for you. It says you know the answer and that you are just playing Life.

Are you happy to be a pretty curse? I dreamt you are. Clever!

I am capturing your colours as much as my eyes can discern, your elegance as much as my mind knows and your love as much as my heart can hold.

You have made house in many souls and though you go on living many lives, you know that your wait is not over. You know peace, but you are waiting for it to complete.

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

Failed Successfully

Posted on May 27, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Diary Entry Failure Green Leaf Life Mountains Nature Rendition Successfully Wind Window

Flash Fiction

**View from the window…**
[Source – Pixabay]

Sitting by the window and watching the wind do its customary dance, Kent wrote a line in his diary and stopped. The line said, ‘I failed again.’ Dry leaves and twigs joined the wind hesitatingly…a bit shy but tending. Kent took a sip of his hot coffee. He flailed the pen in his hand and then began to write-

Again. I try and then I fail. I wonder how I have reached so far when all I can do is to fail. I sink low every time and it becomes difficult to make a comeback. The sympathy, the taking my side, the hiding my faults…I hate when people do this to me. It hurts me more. But I am the reason of the burden I am carrying.

After another sip, Kent again checked the rendition. He couldn’t hear it clearly but was sure about the charming song that the wind played. Huge trees rhymed along, they were so great yet so modest; nature knows some marvellous secrets that make it awe-inspiring.

I have nothing to say anymore. I wish I could visit Mrs Graceland’s house, the backyard and the trail that led to the jungle and the brook with leaves and twigs wafting in it.

If only I could sit there for some time alone. My heart would pour itself in the brook and I am positive that I could then breathe without feeling the knots. The jungle, the brook they don’t know that I have failed. They will not demand any answers nor will they console me. I will be with them and they’ll welcome me.

But with time things start eluding and you feel silent, empty and helpless; a mere bystander.

Kent’s sigh sounded heavy and blue. He searched for something in his room and finding it his eyes rested upon it; a wall clock that made him conscious and humble. He lost himself for some time. Coming back he looked at his diary and wrote-

I think I have failed in putting my thoughts in words. I am sorry dear diary. I think I should just stop writing and….

**A green leaf in autumn.**
[Image by Jagriti Rumi]

At this moment he found a leaf knocking on his window. He stared for few minutes waiting for it to fly away but it didn’t. He stretched his hand reluctantly and opened the window.

Taking the leaf in his hand Kent watched the scene and without waiting for his permission the wind touched his face and made his hair dance. A smile came on his face naturally.

The power of the wind amazed him, the music enthralled him; he could feel the spirit, the liveliness that was abundant in nature. Peeking through his window Kent stood for long in that position unaware of the clock, the pen, the diary, the leaf and himself.

It was getting dark. He forced himself to shut the window. With nature you don’t know when the time passes and if you happen to know you wish it to go slow.

Sitting back on his chair and before he could finish his diary entry, he examined the leaf in his hand. It was green. It was autumn. It was a message. Life loves to live. Who loves life lives…happily.

Kent finished his diary entry.

I can’t believe myself but I am going to try again, maybe I’ll fail again. It doesn’t matter. I’ll never stop walking because I never know what is there for me on the next turn. I am going to die one day, I don’t want to die before that.

Cheers to the green leaf!

Kent

And now, listen to Vashti Bunyan’s album Just Another Diamond Day, this is one of Kent’s favourite tracks, one that he listened to after finishing his diary entry –

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

A Religious Goof

Posted on May 23, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Faith God Heir Incense Power We Wishes

Poem

Wishes upon wishes burning

Carrying prayers with air

Endless love and faith

With some clean care

Oil soaks oil lamps

Incense rubbing against air

Mood transcends but we

Are busy paying fare

We make the God

We create him here

Only to be afraid

And forget him there

Affordable power not manageable

Still we always dare

To act blindly and

Trust the Almighty’s heir

Weekly Newsletter

Recent Posts

Faded Yellow

Posted on May 3, 2013 by Jagriti Rumi Beautiful Depth Faded Flower Forever Magic Yellow

I saw a beautiful little flower on the road. The wind must have brought it on my way. It was crushed by someone and was faded yellow.

Extremely beautiful and what a smile.

Saying hello to me it beamed. I couldn’t resist my curiosity and straightaway asked it about its amazing colour…the depth of the faded colour had seeped in me.

I, somehow, could feel the faded colour, I was arrested by the colour.

Smiling again it said, ‘because of your eyes’. I didn’t understand the reply but I too smiled.

I was influenced, captured and enlivened by the faded colour of the yellow flower.

Smooth, dull, faded magic touched my heart. Its lightness entered me. I was with kindness, love and serenity.

The encounter was of a split second but the little crushed faded yellow flower left me beautified…forever.

Weekly Newspaper