The tiny remnants from the birdie world

 

Nothing is too far and isolated from the reach of all-pervading pollution. It’s the first week of November and the Delhi NCR has turned a gas chamber. Even though I’m located almost 50 km from Delhi, yet it smells as bad as in Delhi. The little serpentine trail of wilderness running between the canals is shrouded in metallic haze. The trees, birds, bushes, plants and the canals sulkily lay under the clawy grip of the thick smog. There is no wind to swipe away the swabs of suffocation. Not a leaf moves. Proud smog is heavily loaded upon mother earth’s bosom. If you take a picture, it would definitely qualify as a beautiful foggy countryside picture. But it would be lifeless. Over a period of time even this poisoned picture will vanish to be replaced by an even bleaker vision.

Gone are the days of big groups of birds. A couple of herons, two-three egrets and some meek cormorants play the role of moving characters in this smog-smeared, frozen picture. A tiny warbler preens from the clump of elephant grass. A parrot tweets dispiritedly. An ibis gives a pathetic, suffering call. A few black kites go scouting the ground. A coucal is busy in the tall clumps of sharp-leaved reeds. A migrant Bihari laborer has cast a fish-line in the canal. A happy news at last bringing a smile on his face. He catches a rohu, a good half kg of freshwater meat. He is still fresh after the chhath celebrations.

Some Nepalese are employed at a poultry farm. They have caught a swarm of little eels from the shallow waters of a distributary field channel branching off from one of the canals. Life has all the reasons to be busy against all odds. Wondering at the capacity of life to adopt newer and newer ways of staying optimistic even in the face of all these gloomy clouds, I move on my customary stroll along the thin ribbon of wilderness along the space between the canals.

The criticality of everything from religion to rags

 

There are critical issues. Everything, from religion to rags, seems in a tight political grip. However, unbothered of all the bigger things a beautiful scene unfolds. It’s a lovely lush green carpet of tiny wheat saplings in a field. A relaxed evening is building up. Bright, warm, yellowish sunrays streaming down on the little wheat crop painted with farming precision in the fields. A farmer is watering his wheat crop. Watering the crops means a feast for the egrets. A party of snow-white egrets is feasting on the worms and insects scurrying out to save themselves from the flood.

Elsewhere, the mankind has been at war with nature. And in its angry, stressful wake has lost 50 percent sperm count during the last fifty years. We may go for blatant propagation of our species, but mother nature knows exactly well how to level up the things.

We love cows and revere them. They seem to feel somehow that they are empowered politically at the moment. So they sit right in the middle of busy roads and majestically chew cuddle. I think they are safer on the roads than the humans are. The vigilante groups are very diligent in their responsibilities.

The monkeys are also revered by we Hindus because of their connection with Lord Hanuman. We are very busy these days, so have little time to do justice to our faith. So as we are running for office and business or pilgrimages we throw fruits and eatables towards the monkeys waiting by the roadside. The cute simians run to grab the respectful offerings. Many get killed and injured by speeding vehicles. But the thrower of things thinks that he has done a pious task.   

The little world of farmers

Ranbeer is my share-cropper, an arrangement between an idle owner and a hardworking farmer. He has been very hardworking during our decades-long partnership. Earlier he worked very hard but now in his sixties he is retired from active farming, just plies the tractor, directs the farm workers, drinks, plays cards in chaupals, suffers fits of mysterious nature, raises verbal storms against his still strong and robust wife. He is fine with numbers and keeps a little pocket diary where he manages the accounting figures concerning our farming partnership to the last paisa. That is the simple broadsheet of his life. It’s an ideology-free life of a farmer, untangled, aloof from the snarling complexities of the mind.  

The doctors couldn’t give any clue to his swooning fits, so I gave him a spiritual certification that he goes into a Samadhi. He has no clue to what I say so just laughs at it, taking it to be just one of the poor jokes cracked by the bookish guys like yours truly. All of us are our own doctors, the best doctors in fact because we know our own system more than anyone else. I was once asking him about what and whys of his fits, how did he feel, etc. ‘Well, I hardly remember anything. It just strikes suddenly. When I come back to my senses, I always find a few drops of urine on my pajama and after that I feel very weak for a couple of days,’ he gave me the medical summary to diagnose the nature of his medical condition.

I researched on it and failed to come to a conclusion. So while the doctors failed to check his fainting swoons and fits, he devised a solution for himself. ‘The tractor jumps and shakes my body quite vigorously and due to this I don’t suffer fits while plying my tractor,’ he looked assured. After that he started spending as much time as possible on his tractor. His wife, who worked equal to two strong bulls in the domain of hard field labor, could draw consolation that hers wasn’t a case of total exploitation as her husband was at least contributing to farming as a tractor driver.

Then the myth was broken one day. Ranbeer all smug, and looking at the mouth-watering prospects of getting a full liquor bottle to drink in the evening with his pals, was plying his tractor on the road to the town. A couple of farmers were sitting comfortably by his sides on the mud-guards. Maybe it was the fault of the road makers. They had made it too smooth with a fresh layering of tar, so Ranbeer’s body didn’t shake sufficiently to avoid a fit. The tractor was running at a reasonable speed and the farmer lost consciousness suddenly without any prior warning or symptoms. Both his fellow peasants had to jump into action with the agility of a rat snake to avoid a common fit for all three of them in the roadside ditch. After that Ranbeer isn’t contributing to farming even as a tractor driver. His wife is aggrieved. She feels exploited in this one-sided equation. But she is helpless in doing work. A life-long habit of hard labor, her Ikigai, won’t allow her to sit idle. So she just cannot subdue her inclination to start walking to the fields to work and sweat out the miseries of life. But she harasses him a lot, cracks jokes, treats him like a child, and fires puns and much-much more.

There is some wild growth in a corner of one of the fields. A big cobra stays there. People talk about it with awe and wonder. The share-cropping couple has planted laukis. Ranbeer’s wife is helpless in doing hard work. She has to do farming work to keep her life meaningful. So she is busy in weeding out the extra growth among the vegetable vines. The cobra struck at her sickle-bearing hand. It was there under the vines. She fell back due to the shock and the offended reptile in fact crawled over her stomach. She was all alone in the field at that time. Imagine the shock and nightmare of a cobra strike.

I am presenting here her own words as I listened to her a bit guiltily and her eyes almost accusing me of partnership in crime as if saying it was your cobra because it stays in your field. Here goes her post-bite story:

‘I fell down and it jumped on my body and crawled over me. I couldn’t stand up. I started crying. Tried to get up but would fall down. Then I thought why die while running and repeatedly falling down. So I tied my duppatta on my hand, gave a cut around the bite and lay down weeping to die peacefully.’

After fifteen minutes her son arrived and took her to the snakebite healer who uses a secret herbal concoction for detoxification. The patient vomits and goes into diarrheal fits to cleanse the system. It works well. Surprisingly. The success ratio is almost 95 percent. Most of the snake-bitten people get cured.

She was up for terrible vomiting and diarrhea for a couple of days. Ranbeer felt inconvenience about it. ‘Put her cot near the washroom so that there is no unnecessary messing up of the place,’ he managed the situation as a firm family patriarch. Then he went to her cot and consoled, ‘You will get cured, don’t worry. Most probably the snake just gave a hiss on your skin and you panicked.’ Then he lamented about food not getting cooked on time, the usual inconveniences born in the life of a farmer with the wife getting bedridden. She listened to all this, not saying much but resolved to make it very tough for him once she got back to her feet.

These are very tough people. I wasn’t expecting her to go to the fields at least during this season. But she was right there at the farm doing the usual chores the very next week itself. Salutes to these courageous Jat peasant women!  

PS: She was earlier bitten by a snake while taking out dung-cakes from a bitoda, a conical dung-cake store covered with hay and straw. Ranbeer himself was bitten by a snake in the fields few years back. So they are veterans in the scary experience. The farmers world over lead such a tough life. But when it comes to setting narratives and building agendas by the power aspirants, the farmers and their cause lie at the base of their scheme.

A Notebook of Dancing Shadows (My Latest Book)

 

<Blurb (A Notebook of Dancing Shadows)>

Step into the world of the introspective and poetic writer, where the mundane transforms into the profound, and the ordinary becomes extraordinary. In ‘A Notebook of Dancing Shadows,’ we are invited into the gentle embrace of a soulful observer, who effortlessly weaves together the threads of everyday life with the tapestry of the spiritual realm.

With each turn of the page, readers are drawn deeper into the writer’s inner sanctum, where thoughts flutter like leaves in the wind and emotions ebb and flow like the tide. From the whispering secrets of nature to the intricate dance of social processes, every observation is tinged with a sense of wonder and reverence for the world around us.

But beyond mere observation, this collection transcends the boundaries of the ordinary, delving into the writer’s spiritual quest for meaning and truth. Through moments of contemplation and introspection, he grapples with the mysteries of existence, seeking solace in the beauty of the unknown.

‘A Notebook of Dancing Shadows’ is not just a book, but a journey—a journey of the heart, the mind and the soul. It is a lyrical exploration of life’s complexities, rendered with a delicate touch and an unwavering sense of grace. So, step into the writer’s world and let his words illuminate the path to a deeper understanding of the human experience.

<Preface>

Welcome, dear reader, to a journey through the meandering paths of observation, reflection and contemplation. In the pages that follow, you’ll find an eclectic mix of thoughts, musings and opinions penned by a humble wanderer of the countryside, where the whispers of nature intertwine with the echoes of profound existential questions.

I am but a simple soul, dwelling in the embrace of a not so tranquil village, where luckily time still moves at its own semi-leisurely pace, and somehow one can still feel that the rhythm of life is dictated by the seasons. From the vantage point of my rustic abode, I embark on solitary walks, allowing the gentle embrace of nature to envelop me in its serene folds.

In the quiet solitude of these wanderings, I find myself attuned to the subtle symphony of the natural world – the delicate flutter of a butterfly’s wings, the ephemeral beauty of a wildflower by the wayside, or the poignant dance of a leaf as it takes its final flight from the branches above. Each of these seemingly mundane occurrences carries within it a profound message, a glimpse into the interconnectedness of all things, and a reminder of the transient nature of existence.

But my observations extend beyond the realm of the natural world, encompassing the grand tapestry of human affairs and the tumultuous currents of society. From the smallest acts of kindness to the grandest geopolitical upheavals, I offer my reflections with a poet’s heart and a seeker’s spirit.

As you delve into the pages of this book, you may find yourself traversing unexpected terrain – from the tranquil beauty of a sun-dappled glade to the chaotic hustle and bustle of the human experience. Yet, amidst the cacophony of voices clamoring for attention, I invite you to pause, to linger awhile, and to contemplate the deeper truths that lie beneath the surface of our existence.

For I am not merely an observer of life; I am a participant in its unfolding drama, a fellow traveler on the winding road of human experience. And in sharing my thoughts and insights with you, I hope to spark a dialogue, to ignite the flame of curiosity, and to inspire a renewed sense of wonder and appreciation for the world around us.

My beliefs are firmly rooted in humanism and secularism. I am also not immune to the allure of the spiritual realm. Indeed, many of the pieces contained within these pages are imbued with a sense of awe and reverence for the mysteries that lie beyond the confines of our understanding.

So, dear reader, as you embark on this journey with me, I encourage you to approach it with an open mind and a willing heart. For in the pages of this book, you may find not only a reflection of my own thoughts and experiences but also a mirror in which to contemplate your own journey through life.

May you find solace in the beauty of nature, wisdom in the complexity of human affairs, and inspiration in the eternal quest for truth and meaning! And may the words contained herein serve as a gentle guide on your own path of discovery.

With warmest regards,

Sandeep Dahiya (Sufi), April 2024

Be a healer

 All of us carry an aura around us. It comprises an electro-magnetic field born of the flow of the life energy through and around our bodies. The quality of this aura is a function of our mental, physical and emotional states. Anger, regret, fear, jealousy, desperation, sorrow, rejection and hopelessness create a sort of negative energy and consequently a negative aura. It means we carry bad aura. It pollutes the surrounding environment like a heap of garbage. Now isn’t it our bounden duty to keep the environment clean by remaining positive, happy, smiling, poised, relaxed, sympathetic and compassionate? It's our duty fella! It's as good for others' health as it is for our own. All the steps to the cleaning of all types of pollutants start from the self. Stay happy. Just by doing this we do a social service.

The lost faith

 Casting a vote feels futile in the present circumstances. As a voter, using the EVM (in its current form and management under a vastly politicised election commission) feels like going into the battle with a stick while the mighty soldiers are fighting with rocket launchers. Further, under the current political authority, my faith in free and fair elections has been jolted because when you try to retain power 'at whatever cost' then democracy gets sabotaged. There are enough loopholes in our entire bureaucratic, judicial and legislative system to allow misuse and manipulation to pass as legalized actions. The media, as all of us know, is no longer free, fair and unbiased (with the exception of few upright journalists whose name can be counted on fingers), in its reporting and coverage of issues. Fancy, fictionalized narratives do the rounds, pleasantly blinding the people in their sand-swirls. Yes, India has emerged strongly internationally, no doubt about that. But it has come at the cost of lots of undemocratic maneuvering internally. The society is highly polarized on hate principles based on caste, region and religion. The rich have turned super rich; the poor have turned poorer. The farmers and laborers are under a lot of stress. An empty stomach can't pacify its hunger by reviving the hypothetical national glory of Dharam Rajya and Vishva Guru. They need bread. We still are a poor nation with a high quotient of jingoism and hoopla. So on the voting day, it would be far better to carry on the routine work. Why should we the common people disturb our mundane schedule? The election day is a festival of democracy. One should be in high spirits on this occasion. But how can one feel it to be a festival when it's just a mudslinging game among the power aspirants?!

The art of emptying

 Well before you take steps to fulfill your dreams, learn the art of emptying, of letting go, of letting out unwanted mossy dregs in the container of your destiny. Emptying isn’t defeatist. It’s not surrender. It’s a calculated step towards victory, towards fulfillment. It’s the preparation for gain, the beginning of filling up. Instead of running after the mirage of fulfillment, focus on emptying. Fulfillment is just a step away. Fullness starts at the moment of complete emptying. Wash, scrub, rinse and drain out the muck from the pot of your destiny. Wash away hate, anger, jealousy, ignorance, desires, phobias, complexities and overblown ambition. Drain these out. Let it be a perfectly clean and swanky pot of emptiness. The universe is expanding. It wants clean chambers to pour its energy into. It will sneak into the clean house in the form of your dreams and aspirations. The swabs clinging to the bottom are the repellents to fulfillment. Clean these. Work on emptying. Work on emptiness and you are in fact moving towards fullness. In a perfectly clean container there is no limitation on fulfillment, no hurdles to materialization of dreams, no restrictions on infinite cosmic harmony pouring its vastness into the container. A scribbled canvas has limitations of painting, a clean one has infinite possibilities of shapes and pictures. Scrub the slate clean before you start the journey. Even if it means a lifetime of emptying, it still will not be a loss. Even a second of fulfillment will be worth it. It will still be better than pouring the nectar of your efforts in an unclean pot, and just adding onto the stinking broth that never gives happiness and satisfaction.

A little slice of truth

 It’s a lush green forest around you. Birds are chirping. It’s early morning and a cool breeze is blowing. Nearby, gurgling waters of a brook add music to the stillness around. You feel better. It feels good. The external orderliness, peace and calm raise the bar of your better feeling. With the same set of your own individual, internal, self-specific problems, worries and concerns you feel better if the surrounds are better.

The desert sand is burning. It’s noon and forget about trees you cannot see even a blade of grass for miles. You feel horrible. You feel bad. Worse than your self-specific set of worries make you feel normally. You feel bad if the surroundings are not convenient.

We cannot inhale in isolation. If there is misery in air, it will enter your lungs. Use air-masks and air filters, do whatever. Life still will be stifling and genuine efforts just a struggle because we cannot help inhaling our share of the miseries. The solution lies in cutting down on pollutants. Not in wearing masks. But when it comes to our struggle to increase our happiness, the efforts are almost as useless as wearing masks when the air is polluted.  

Our own set of factors that make life either good or bad are not the sole deciding elements in making us happy or unhappy. If we are happy, then we are just sharing a fraction of the overall happiness surrounding us. Our lungs are safe just in proportion to the purity of air around. If the quality of air is good, only then the individual battles like quitting smoking, eating healthy and doing yoga to keep lungs safe will be meaningful. 

If we are unhappy, that also is a fraction of the overall misery spread around. Individual is just a constituent of the whole. Happiness is drawn from the overall pool. How long the frogs will sing songs of self gratification in a vanishing pond? Its waters vaporizing. Its shoreline decreasing. Stanching green mossy puddle. What can be drawn out of it? Only death and misery, not life and happiness.   

A talented software engineer, with his tools of prosperity and happiness, is of no use at a place like Somalia. There is no surrounding prosperity to help him nurture his talent. There is no supportive economy and companies to help him contribute to the overall wellness and get a fraction of the happiness and feel good. A software engineer prospers in America because using his skills he can contribute to and earn back a fraction of the happiness spread around.         

The surroundings set the stage for either make or break. 

“Love thy neighbor!” By loving others you are loving yourself. By caring for others, you are caring for yourself. By contributing to happiness, you are adding to your own happiness because your share of happiness and prosperity will be just a fraction of the overall happiness around. With your effort and skills, you draw a big portion if the social forest around you is healthy like the natural forest where each breath installs new vitality in you. 

Long before you really start doing something to add to the overall wellness around you, start with a simple practice. You might be busy with scores of neck-breaking responsibilities, leaving you with very little time for real action on the goodness front. Start thinking good of others. Think good for your surroundings. Be happy over others’ victories. Smile over somebody’s stroke of luck. Feel bad for somebody’s loss. Say some sympathetic words as well. Over years, the goodness in womb will get healthy. It will deliver a healthy baby. And sooner or later you will definitely ‘do’ something to add to the overall goodness around you before you finish your journey. 

You will then have a larger share from the pool of wellness. When the sun will be setting and you preparing to enter the night for rest, you will walk into the forest with well-meaning steps. It will be a far happier retirement than it would have been otherwise.

Keep walking with a smile

 Usually people, most of us, walk through a grey zone of shifting shadows. It's not totally dark, it's a mundane journey. Neither too painful, nor joyous one. It leads to a common destination as well. But some people have to walk through a dark cave, you may call it dark night of the soul. It's painful involving lots of suffering. Many perish in the folds of darkness. But those who choose to continue, they finally come out and face the brightest dawn, the dawn of the soul in evolutionary terms. Such people are leaders, guides and inspiration just by default. They need not even try to accomplish anything. Just by being there they do goodness. And if they choose to guide fellow human beings, they make good masters. 

So remember this, always, as you walk through your dark nights, that you are such a soul. And the patches of darkness will keep arriving periodically till you see the sunshine finally and be an inspiration to others. So keep walking. With a smile. And keep in touch with the people who care for you. Don't allow the darkness to build more walls around you. Best wishes brothers and sisters!👍

अहंकार का डीमक

 रावण बलशाली, पराक्रमी, ज्ञानी, तपस्वी, देशभक्त सब कुछ था। अपने अथक प्रयास से लंका को सोने की भी बना दिया था। लेकिन फिर उसे अहंकार का दीमक लग गया। दीमक का तो काम ही व्यक्ति या वस्तु को खोखला करने का होता है। इसलिए रावण ने इतना कुछ जो बरसों में बनाया था वो सब कुछ महीनों में बरबाद हो गया। अहंकार एक बहुत विशालकाय बांध में छोटी सी दरार की तरह होता है, दिखता नहीं है क्योंकि स्वयं वह व्यक्ति तथा दूसरे तो उस बड़े भव्य बांध की भव्यता में खोए रहते हैं। लेकिन वो छोटी सी दरार कुछ समय के बाद विनाश का कारण बन जाती है। प्रकृति और अहंकार का छातीस का आंकड़ा है। प्रकृति अहंकार को नहीं छोड़ती, यही सतत् नियम है।

The cult of hate

 Political extremists (both left and right) and religious fundamentalists try to change the masses for the worse. Cut down the people to a fraction of their potential and you have nice governable puny-heads. They serve meow meow. For instant gratification. Hate, phobias, pseudo-greatness, anger and jealousy are very convenient tools to rob someone of sanity and get cast as a hallucinated pawn in the power game. Those who are power hungry—individuals, groups and institutions—try to disempower those to be under the influence of their power. It cannot be otherwise. The power pyramid has few strong at the apex and weak masses at the base. It can never be a square, having people of same realized potential from top to the bottom. Those ambitious for power can never think of empowering the masses. In that case the pyramid loses its standing. With pseudoism and populist rhetoric they rob the masses of the balance of their judgment. Hate does it. It tilts you off the balance. You fall prey to weakness. You become lesser of a human being. The power monger’s ambition draws on the peoples’ weakness of judgment. They try their best to keep the people to be nearsighted. To tame them in a sphere, with unrealized potential, from where the launch-pad of wisdom is too far. It draws votes for the power hungry, in a day to day life but it is paid in terms of racial attacks in America, brutal killings by Islamic extremists, attacks on Africans in India, and scores of incidences when people pick up hate and run after each other.

Beautiful spring and smiles

 

All pains and suffering lose their meaning in the face of such smiles. Wake up to a beautiful spring morning. The worst of frosty nights are over. The sun shines warmly. The air is fresh. The skies bathed in repainted blue. The trees assertive through new saplings. The birds ecstatic. And with a kissable smile, Mother Nature sends her assurance through a belated spring. The message of love, life, living and compassion. Listen to it. Read it written all over. Her child is sick. She has redecorated the garden with utmost care. So when the child comes out of the sick bed, there will be plenty of fun and frolics. She just just put her child to bed for rest and recuperation. Most importantly, she has given the little picture of alphabets for the child to revise and recollect the basics of existence, the simplest things which the child has forgotten as it made its postdocs thesis too complex. Time to shed the burden. High time to smile more. Acquire the natural cosmetics of health and glow with peace of mind. To hug the trees. Kiss the flowers. Listen to the singing rivulets. To lie on grass and stare at the vast canvas of the sky. To breathe in life and let go of anger, hate and jealousy. To shed animosity. To love animals. To allow Mother Nature to stay undisturbed in pristine forests. To maintain the sanctity of the seas. To distribute dignity to the masses instead of amassing wealth in select pockets. To make this little home earth a paradise instead of seeking heaven in the cosmos. To liberate faith from the clutches of dogma. To replace paranoid competition by balmy cooperation. To rest, repose for creative imagination. To walk joyfully instead of huffing and puffing to another same boring destination. To be joyful and help others be the same. To complete the journey so joyfully and fully that the culmination loses its pain. To reach the destination full of grace, dignity and with a smile. To say goodbye not with a painful sigh, but with smiling tears of feeling blessed!

The real cause of suffering

 Most of us are tired and bored of being our own self. The 'self' seems almost a prison and we are always rushing out to beat our self loath and boredom by connecting with people who we assume match our personality cast. These people to whom we rush to beat our boredom are but our opposites because who would go and enter the same prison one is trying to get out. So when the connection and relationships also don't dilute the feeling of self loath, we put the blame again on outside forces, people and circumstances. No relationship will work till we are bored being ourselves. The problem is always inside, our ego but would always try to dupe us by putting it on the people and life circumstances. To be a friend to anyone outside, one has to share a beautiful bonhomie with one's own self. You have to smile within to laugh genuinely with others. You have to be comfortable with your own being first. Only then others will feel relaxed with you. The inner turmoil, restlessness and stress of just being the way you are takes a big toll on what we make of our life outside. The way we feel, think or act is the cause, not effect, of all the shit we find outside in our life. The cause lies within. The externalities are mere effects. And solutions start with causes not effects. So if the game of life isn't nice outside, accept it as an effect of something wrong within. To be a smiling friend to others, first learn to be friendly with your own self.

House Vs Home

 There is a house well plastered, tiled and painted on the outside walls. Its well designed and vibrant exterior catches attention. Drawn by the catchy exterior you step inside. You expect an equal attraction inside. But a surprise awaits you. You come across soot, grime, dust, unplastered walls, cobwebs, cement and stone crush staring at you. It’s a house that has been left unattended inside. Incomplete. You will feel running out. It’s a house that needs the workers rather more than the visitors. That’s how most of us die: just houses under construction. Throughout our lives we keep on painting the outer walls to satisfy our ego through expanding our visibility, hoping attention will give happiness and peace. Little do we realize that real comfort lies in the house completed from inside. So the interior remains incomplete, disordered. Can such a house give permanent peace? No. Outer walls are important. But only to the extent of defining our world, a psychological boundary to stamp our ownership of our chunk in this world. Only this much. And the importance of the outer walls is meaningless if the interior is unfinished. Outer paint is just the title of the orderliness inside. A summary of all the cozy arrangement inside. We, but, commit the folly of treating the title as the main story. Can a title replace the main text of the story? No. The title ought to be catchy. But the story is all that matters.

You are the creator

 All this is a little funny innocent thoroughfare around. This creation is just pushing a unique expression through our identity, our point of existence in Her infinite folds. So let's be proud of what we are doing. Our karma is nothing but a contribution from our end to help the eternal truth in maintaining its sanctity, its mystical depth. So let's create well in full honesty to our own self. Spool your webs and feel that we are fulfilling a vital part in Her scheme of things. Each step we take is in fact Her step to realise Her full potential. We are merely an expression of the infinite potential lying at the quantum level to take more and more shapes and expressions. So do your karma in action, thoughts and emotions in full sincerity, with full awareness, with full presence. And you make Her happy, happy about Herself because She is you and you are just a drop in Her vast cosmic sea. She is happy when you are happy. She is sad when you are sad. She feels like a majestic creator when you are creating something in full awareness and consciously. And She is right there in you when you are aware of your full presence.

The real cause of pain

 Only those in suffering and pain themselves become the source of sorrow to others. The fire within has to burn the carrier's inside first before spreading its effect on others. Happy people hardly cause sorrow around. Observe the firy pit inside, the primary cause of one's sorrows. If we become aware of its burn, we will stop blaming others for our miseries. Others are merely triggers for the fire to flare up more viciously at the most. It helps to remember that all our so called miseries of life are primarily born of our inner condition rather than the life circumstances and the people around.

Hope

 Here is another story of Hope.

In the Himalayan villages there are some reports of some village elders willing to go into the forests so that they become prey to the tigers. These are very poor people. A tiger victim's family gets one million rupees in compensation. But is it only about money? No. It's about keeping the HOPE alive in their families even if they are no more. So dear friends, just imagine people are ready to even sacrifice their lives to keep the hope alive in their families. Hence, all the rest that one can do to keep the hope alive should be a mere cakewalk.

A little story of Hope

 Sharing the little story of a farmer in the locality.

A poor almost illiterate farmer with a little patch of land. A nice man but into alcohol. His son a very diligent disciplined hardworking boy. He did tapasya for medical studies in India. Sadly couldn't get admission. His father sold his little land and sent him to Russia for medical studies. The boy is excelling in studies there. The father is slowly dying and fading away but he is peaceful for keeping the HOPE alive in his son's life. There is a smile on his face even in the face of death.

That's what life is. If we are lucky we get people who help us in keeping our hopes alive. But even if we are all alone, we have our own SELF to keep the HOPE alive.

Healing your life!

 Good morning everyone...wake up to a lovely day of Karma, learning and smiles.

Sharing the story of Dr Joe Dispenza.

I always wondered how come this medicine man turns out to be such a mystic! And here is the cause.

He met an accident at the age of 23, breaking six vertebrae in the spine. Paralyzed. The doctors said the only chance at walking would come after inserting two 12 inch long steel rods along the spine. He said no and asked to be discharged from the hospital. For three months he lay on his stomach at his friend's place and reconstructed his spine using creative visualisation...step by step...with extreme focus, intention, awareness, being present in the body...and made a new reality using his mind power, by being open to the infinite mind that has all the solutions to all problems. He got up after three months and simply walked away to glory. He hasn't had back pain in the last three decades. He says it's not just about the body, we can heal our life in the same way by recreating better careers, relationships, everything.

Hope you like it. Wish you all a happy refabrication of life!🌷💛

Healing Hugs!

The mystery of nothingness

 The matter-like behaviour is a property of the cosmic mind, the universal intelligence throbbing as the energy. Mind, universal collective consciousness, is the primary cosmic constituent. The so-called matter is merely a manifestation of it, just a dependent property. Had it been the reverse, i.e., mind-type behaviour of matter, we surely would require the basic, unbreakable building blocks having intrinsic properties in terms of atomic and subatomic particles. But as we see it, subatomic particles have no intrinsic value and properties independent of the observer. With matter first, and mind just its behaviour, eternity would be mathematically impossible. However, a fundamental entity in the form of cosmic mind leaves an open ended, ever evolving field for the manifestation of matter in countless ways over eternal paths of creation. Simply because there is no intrinsic property or value to define and limit the material manifestation. Call it the cosmic energy or the cosmic mind. It's a dimensionless plane where any kind of material dimension is possible to draw out of nothingness. The limitless canvas. Wipe it, draw another. On and on. Is there any limit to imagination? No. Same is the case with cosmic mind's imagination. Eternal are its horizons.