You are a winner

 Why should winning be just defined by finishing the line ahead of others? Finishing the line with your best, even if it means coming last in the list, is also a win. And beyond finishing, the will to touch the line, even if you fall on the way, is a win. And even the will to participate is a win. And if you don't participate at all and do something else that also is winning. Why talk of defeats? It's winning-winning all the way, in one form or another. Because to be alive itself is a win. Life is a winsome game in totality. Count all your disasters, tragedies and pains. Add them. However high the sum is, it will still fall short of nullifying the big positive number, life. You all are winners I tell you.

Trees are holier than human saints

 I am sure most of us have seen a sweet-sour tug of war among a group of trees in a narrow space. Much as different trees push and prod to kiss the sunrays, they are ready to recede and be on the backfoot at the same time. They are ready to take frontfoot with as much enthusiasm as they are ready to go on backfoot. Much as they try their level best to go straight to kiss the rays of survival, they are equally prepared to bend down to the necessity and take a detour in the face of obstruction. It’s a beautiful balance between surging ahead and surrender. All this is beyond winning and losing, a marvelous equilibrium. Ego, the phantom malady of we humans, cannot survive on such a beautiful line drawn with unqualified composure. No wonder, it’s beyond winning and losing. These are the fallacious categories mischievously hatched by the existential forces to put testing hurdles on the path of our evolution. It’s as simple as a constraint on a plant or tree that faces natural limits and hurdles to its growth. A plant grows egolessly, unaware of the terms of winning and losing, and hence there is hardly any suffering in its journey. We are a bit more aware egoistic plants, popping out to grow and be so much more aware to lose this restricting ‘limited awareness’ of cutting down reality in poor fractions. To be frank, a plant or tree appears more evolved than us in this regard. What we aim to gain after intense spiritual practices is naturally available to a tree. So who is more evolved? In my opinion, it’s the tree! In fact, the spiritual model of evolution—in which we take mankind as the more evolved species after having traversed through the lower realms of plants and animals—may indeed be the reverse. Like, we may be at the base and by shedding our illusionary mindwork, we are moving to higher states of egolessness, crossing over to animals to trees to grasses to dust to nothingness, on the path to become part of everything by shedding all sense of ‘I, My and Me’. I at least feel like worshipping trees more than I feel prostrating before any of the so called holiest feet on earth.

Don't be a lone wolf

 "The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." We have evolved like herd animals. We need to fit in a larger group to survive by bonding with others. We need respect in a group. We need sweet approval from our family, friends and peer groups. Don't commit the mistake of going separate from your  sweet little tribe. It might literally mean a death sentence. So many lonely people die unnaturally. So enjoy sweet collaboration and bond with your little group for safety and opportunities. It's one of the most basic laws of prevailing as an individual as a part of trusting group.

A poet batting on a slippery wicket

 

The tiles are getting so oily smooth in fashionable houses that I have to walk like a heavily pregnant penguin waddling on the Antarctic ice to avoid a fall. But we are up for leaving a grand impression on the house fashion scene, or for that matter in all types of fashion in all spheres of life. That's being cultured; otherwise you are a Sentinelese prehistoric tribal in the Andaman and Nicobar chain of islands. In fact, the floor tiles have become so slippery these days that I feel like a goat being taken to a slaughter house if some fashionable person invites me to their house.

But credit goes to we humans. We are a gutsy race. We take risks. We are ready to take the risks of broken bones for being most fashionable in the neighborhood. And so many slip and break their bones in fact. What floor is any worth if it doesn't carry the slipping potential and break bones and wink with a flashy smile as you fall? And we shouldn't forget that broken bones are a boon for the medical fraternity.

What car is worth its tyres if it can't go like a rocket and carry the prospect of trampling as many as possible on its glorious journey? But the naughty trampling cars are a boon for the insurance industry. Isn’t it?

What music is worth its rhythmic hop if it can't burst a few eardrums? What dress is worth its salt if it doesn't make you look like someone from the farthest galaxy? And the dress that actually covers the body is no dress, it's an old hag. So poor clothing is up for a big challenge. It has to show all and still appear to hide everything. So we are busy fixing it. It's a very serious question. How much of cloth goes off from the bum-side to cover the soles of feet. Or how much goes from the chest to cover armpits. One half of the mind working overtime to bare all, while the other half trying to devise an airy dress to avoid a complete fall. Imagine how much creativity it requires! What an art man!

And what is this boring, old-model plain skin? It's a big canvas for art. Why waste paper for painting when we have our dear skin ready for the sadistic pleasure of the tattooing needle? So human body is the canvas now. Some tattoos go deep in the skin in proportions to the transient emotions in the heart. But we have shifty hearts. So when the clouds of emotions scatter and take a new shape, the poor tattoo taunts as a sign of infidelity. So it has to be vanquished. So tattoo removers have become as important as tattoo makers. The other day when I put out my hand to give some money to a beggar I got a shock. He had a dragon on his hand. He appeared so empowered in comparison to me. My poor non-tattooed hand won't dare to go ahead. So I just walked away. When I see people with their sophisticated tattoos coming on the way, I involuntarily find myself moving away in awe and wonder to give them space to walk. They appear a completely new race to me the old model. Maybe tattooed bums, biceps, breasts and tummies have gone berserk and are now revolting to claim new versions after getting fed up with their boring old self.

And what gun is a gun that can't pierce a hill from a distance? So the human mind is making the best of a gun. But then what bulletproof jacket is that which can't stop a cannon ball on the chest. So one half of our collective brain is making the deadliest gun, while the other half is busy in making the best of bulletproof jackets.

We are a very busy race. We can't stop. We have to scatter litter in the first place, so that we can devise the most efficient ways of waste management. We ought to rechristen ourselves as busy-sapiens now. We have to first go into war and killings and then make UN and the entire set of peace talks and diplomatic corps for peaceful negotiations.

I sometimes wonder maybe we are basically looking to create more avenues for problems, so that the genius of the human brain can be actualized in managing those problems. I think the autonomous human mind is smartly using the slavish human body for experiments, like we do with the toads on dissection tables, putting us in weirdest situations just to find whether there is a solution to this and that. What an experiment going on! It really is a big drama.

A bat and ball in place of guns and grenades

 

Congratulations Afghanistan! During the ongoing one day cricket world cup they have defeated two former champions. October 23 would stand as a millstone for the war-torn country when they defeated Pakistan. They needed this victory far more than Pakistan. A bleeding land suffering from wars, famines, killings, poverty and all that can plague a society. Just imagine the joy and happiness in bullet-scarred little mud-houses across Afghanistan! Men, women and children getting a rare opportunity to feel proud of their nation. An exceptional event when they can shout with joy. Such events can trigger a turning point in a country's history. The youth can think of bat and ball instead of guns and bombs. Sports sow the seeds of hard work and discipline among the youth. It sets up a stage for dreaming big. I’m really happy for them! But I have my sympathies for Pakistan also. They still have the option of winning all their remaining games to stay in the competition.

There is a very-very exceptional blast of happiness and public jubilation in Afghanistan. In Kabul the fans honked car horns, danced and played loud music. I think even Taliban would have felt like celebrating on the occasion. Why be so stern and serious when the entire nation feels like singing and dancing? I’m not for gunfire on any occasion. But celebratory gunfire following a victory on the sporting field surely removes a few bullets from the ammunition dump which would have tasted human blood. So it’s good riddance.

The seeds are always very small but they have the potential to sire big crops, trees, forests. Let’s hope this little seed of victory on the sporting field sires Afghan resurgence. Such sporting upsets by the cricketing underdogs are more than welcome. They don’t have the infrastructure. But it shows how resilient the Afghan people can be. All out aggression breeds fanaticism. But controlled aggression on the sporting field fetches glory and joy for the impoverished masses. As they celebrated I am sure many bleeding hearts must have forgotten the decades-long mayhem. They hunt as a spinning wolf pack headed by the wonderful Rashid Khan. Spinning a ball is far better than spinning a grenade. Hitting a six is more effective than firing a rocket launcher.

A pilgrimage

 

I had the luck to go on a pilgrimage to Gaumukh in the second half of October. I saw Maa Ganga's two temples: a glacial one at Gaumukh and a man-made shrine at Gangotri. The former for a journey within; the latter for finding your footing on the ladder of faith before you dive within. As you walk in the opposite direction to Her powerful currents, She cleanses you of darkness. She roars past you, outshouting the demons within you. It seems as if She is ferociously rushing past you to decimate the backstabbing illusions following you. She sprays Her divine waters to cleanse your little-little mistakes and stumbles that we unjustifiably term as sins. She emboldens you to stumble over stony path to finally find your footing, like a mother looking over her toddler falling while learning to walk. She wants your tired legs to know the importance of pause and rest in the art and craft of walking (life). As She powerfully cuts massive mountains, it seems as if a strong mother is assuring Her children,  'I will cut a valley for you. I will lay a path for you.  You just learn to walk!' And once you get the lesson and complete the little assignment given by Her, She is there with Her motherly smile to welcome you in Her man-made shrine.

Man Vs Woman

 

The questioner: What do you think are your favorite qualities in a woman?

Me: The same as found in a good man.

The questioner: And your favorite qualities in a man?

Me: The same as in a good woman.

The questioner: Why?

Me: Because both are equal and humans only.

A drop of love

 

The main charm of dewy autumnal mornings is the shower of little Parijat flowers that covers the ground, like offerings to mother earth. It's a little exercise in nurturing care and consideration in my farming gene pool. Walk carefully so as not to crush even a single flower. If you sensitize your conscience to at least this level so as to avoid crushing a flower, there is hardly a chance that you will crush a heart, an organic representative of thousands of beautiful, multicolored flowers.         

Spin well! Smile...cheers...dance…

 

This is your very own beautiful reality dear earthling...a lovely reality created by you through your own experiences and endeavors to cope with the googlies of life. This is a shining monument celebrating that you have lived. It's as concrete, meaningful and real as the biggest block of stone you have seen in life. Your soul has already consecrated it, so no need for its validation by others. It's as real and ripply as a river flowing in front of you, as beautiful as a rose, as seductive as fragrant jasmine on a dewy autumnal night.

This is a limitless cosmic fluid, a stream of energy, carrying thought and emotional spools in the form of various vibrational frequencies. That's the raw material for all of us to fabricate still more spools of thought and emotion forms as those already created float around and through us. We are an instrument for carrying this limitless game to keep churning fresher realities.

All people make their realities. Those strictly at the body level make what you see most of that surrounds you. Thought dominated people like yours truly have intellectual and conceptualized energy field. They see it through their own telescope of intellect. Emotional people, the poets and artists, have  emotionalized multihued version of reality. Beautiful souls immersed in faith consecrate the surroundings with the tunes of their soulful hymns and sanctify the ordinary surroundings with divinity and create godliness right here on earth. Some are related to the surroundings at the level of still more subtler energies, so subtle that their realities are in the domain of intuitive zone, where space-time axis loses relevance and they foresee and feel the looming turmoil. I know a girl whose energetic system was already painfully attuned to the invisibly building turmoil in the Middle East and which has now burst out in all blood and gore. She has seen lots of turmoil in her body and spirit in this lifetime, so maybe that makes her a receiver of similar traumas building up at far off places.

There are always causes in nature for all the effects to manifest. All this happens as per the fundamental laws of causation, which are operational beyond the scope of normal physical laws made by the Homo sapiens. The latter are convenient copies adopted from the primordial laws based on how much our senses allow us to sense and perceive.

We have our own karmic memories in our genetics and coupled with the experiences in this lifetime, we frame newer realities. And this new drop of creation from our end is left to float in the stream of creation forever. It will affect our fellow creators till eternity. So it's advisable to create well, something that is assimilative and helpful for fellow creators. At least as per the notions of what we term as loving, friendly, helpful, caring in human terms.

All these creations in thought and emotion forms are different manifestations of the same primordial soup. But it's lovely to come to terms with one's very own reality irrespective of what others see of it. I really understand and feel what our individual triggers want to convey. There are workshops, billions of them, busy in carrying forward the task of eternity on this little planet.

We ought to accept other's realities. And keep evolving as per the directions of the energies flowing through us. We aren't that isolated as individuals as we seem on the surface. Multiple layers of mental, emotional, astral planes, and God knows how many more that we don't know yet, cut across us as we proceed on life’s journey. They are floating around. It's natural that we relate to or are positively or negatively reactive to the energetic forms building around. But what we produce as a response to the individual stimuli is our own creation. So we can be very responsible creators. Some things we relate to because we have seen its very manifestation in our own body through all that we have seen in this life or experienced previously. And in attunement or discordance with all that—which primarily defines our individuality—we spin further webs for mother creation. Spin well! Smile...cheers...dance…

Happy Environment Day

 Wish you all a happy world environment day! Save trees, save mother Earth!

Let's celebrate the Environment Day! Mother earth is the root cause of all our joys. Go close to nature. She needs your healing touch. As Bond Sahab says:

"The more intimate you are with the natural world -- the world that exists without actually having to worry about how to exist -- the more we will come to terms with our own natures."

If Mother Earth stands any chance at all, it lies there if we treat each day of the year as the Environment Day. Everything less than it falls well short the least redemption.

Sow a seed of love. A seed that will one day sprout, spread, bloom, sway to the breeze. It will remain as your best footprint on the planet once you move ahead on your journey in a different dimension. Be a plant parent! Happy environment day to all!

छोटी सी किरण

 मैं भारतीय लोकतंत्र में सुधार के कुछ संकेत देख सकता हूं। लाखों गरीब वंचित लोगों ने मिलकर मोदी, भाजपा, नौकरशाही, चुनाव आयोग, ईडी, सीबीआई, आईटी और अरबपतियों के खिलाफ लड़ाई लड़ी। परिस्थितियाँ उनके विरुद्ध हिमालय पर्वत की तरह खड़ी थीं। लेकिन उन्होंने अपनी मतदान की शक्ति का उपयोग किया। वे कोई विकल्प नहीं दे सके क्योंकि सरकार के ऐसे क्रूर, शक्तिशाली किले को तोड़ना उनकी क्षमता से परे था। लेकिन उन्होंने एक मजबूत विपक्ष दिया है जो लोकतंत्र के स्वास्थ्य के लिए जरूरी है।' मुझे उम्मीद है कि विपक्ष को अब संसद में बोलने की अनुमति दी जाएगी न कि उसे परेशान किया जाएगा, चुप कराया जाएगा, निलंबित किया जाएगा और सदन से बाहर निकाल दिया जाएगा। मुझे उम्मीद है कि अब हम भारतीय मीडिया को बंधनों को तोड़ते हुए और पिछले दशक में हासिल की गई शर्मनाक स्थिति को दूर करते हुए देखेंगे। मुझे उम्मीद है कि शक्तिशाली सरकारी मशीनरी अपनी भूमिका ईमानदारी और सत्यनिष्ठा से निभाएगी। मुझे उम्मीद है कि सरकार अब सत्ता और पैसे के दम पर दिखावटी सब्जबाग खड़े करने की बजाय आम लोगों की समस्याओं के लिए काम करेगी। और राहुल गांधी को बधाई! वह विपक्ष के अच्छे नेता बनेंगे। भावी प्रधानमंत्री के रूप में अपने कौशल को निखारने का यह उनके लिए एक अच्छा अवसर होगा।

A little glimmer of hope for the Indian democracy

 I can see some signs of recovery for Indian democracy. Teeming millions of poor disadvantaged people fought against Modi, BJP, bureaucracy, election commission, ED, CBI, IT and billionaires. The odds were pitifully pitched against them. But they asserted their power. They couldn't give an alternative because it was simply beyond their capacity in the face of such brutal power assertion by the government. But they have given a strong opposition which is necessary for the health of democracy. I hope the opposition will now be allowed to speak in the parliament rather than being heckled, silenced, suspended and thrown out of the house. I expect we will now see Indian media breaking the shackles and cast away the shameful shape it has acquired in the past decade. I hope the powerful government machineries will fulfill their roles with honesty and integrity. I hope the government will now work for the problems of the common people instead of just creating a showy façade on the basis of power and money. And congratulations Rahul Gandhi! He will make a good leader of the opposition. It will be a good opportunity for him to hone his skills as the future prime minister.

लोकतंत्र की क्षति

 लोकतंत्र में राजनीतिक दलों द्वारा एक दूसरे पर आरोप लगाना आम बात है। लेकिन चुनाव आयोग पर आरोपों का स्तर पिछले सभी रिकॉर्ड को पार कर गया है। ये आरोप कहां से आए हैं? यह चुनाव आयोग का अपना काम है. वह सिर्फ यह नहीं कह सकता कि विपक्ष अफवाहें फैला रहा है और छूट जाएगा। सरकार के पक्ष में चुनाव संबंधी मुद्दों पर इसके पक्षपातपूर्ण दृष्टिकोण ने आलोचकों को इसकी तटस्थता के खिलाफ उंगली उठाने के लिए पर्याप्त वैध कारण दिए हैं। पिछले कुछ महीनों से वह जो कर रहा है, उससे निष्पक्षता नहीं झलकती, इसलिए स्वाभाविक रूप से उसके खिलाफ बहुत सारे सवाल उठ रहे हैं। इससे भारतीय लोकतंत्र की छवि को बहुत बड़ा धक्का लगा है. क्योंकि अगर चुनाव कराने वाली मशीनरी ही अभूतपूर्व तरीके से संदेह के घेरे में आ जाए तो लोकतंत्र की बुनियाद हिल जाती है। इसके अलावा विपक्ष के ख़िलाफ़ सरकारी एजेंसियों का चुन-चुनकर दुरुपयोग करने का स्तर भी भारत में नये शिखर पर पहुंच गया है। इसमें कोई आश्चर्य नहीं कि भारतीय लोकतंत्र बुरी तरह क्षतिग्रस्त हो गया है। अब यह सवाल नहीं है कि कौन जीतता है और कौन हारता है। असल मुद्दा देश में लोकतांत्रिक प्रक्रिया को नुकसान पहुंचाने के बारे में है।' एक आम आदमी के लिए भारत के चुनाव आयोग की कार्यप्रणाली से निराश होने के पर्याप्त कारण हैं। यह लोकतंत्र की भावना को नुकसान पहुंचाता है. मैं भविष्य में भारतीय लोकतंत्र को कमजोर होकर निरंकुश रूप लेते हुए देख सकता हूं।

Big dent to Indian democracy

 It's usual for the political parties to put up allegations against each other in a democracy. But the levels of allegations against the election commission have surpassed all past records. Where have these allegations come from? It's the election commission's own doing. It can't just say that the opposition is spreading rumours and go scot free. Its partial and biased approach to election related issues in favour of the government have given the critics enough valid reasons to raise a finger against its neutrality. Fairness doesn't reflect from what it has been doing for the past few months, so naturally lots of questions are being raised against it. It has given a huge dent to the image of Indian democracy. Because if the very election conducting machinery comes under suspicion in an unprecedented manner then the foundations of democracy are shaken. Apart from this, the level of selectively misusing the government agencies against the opposition has touched a new peak in India. No wonder Indian democracy stands hugely dented. It's no longer a question of who wins and who loses. It's about the harm to the democratic process in the country. There are enough reasons for a common man to feel disappointed with the functioning of the election commission of India. It harms the spirit of democracy. I can see Indian democracy getting diluted to take autocratic shape in future.

Congratulations China for Change'e 6 mission

China's robotic Chang'e 6 mission landed inside Apollo Crater at the giant South Pole-Aitken basin. With eternal optimism I would take it as the next step in mankind's quest for more scientific truths. So congratulations China in the name of collective human endeavour for scientific spirit, exploration, research, analysis and data. Irrespective of how many punches we give each other--as different nationalities--in the ring, this little planet will face common problems. Climatic ravages will heat, beat, treat us the same irrespective of geographical variations and national interests. Scorching heat will bake us the same. The floods will drown us the same. Pollution will ravage our lungs the same. Wars will spill the blood all the same. Some hostile alien life form will, this I consider very likely, treat us the same--the weird dwellers of a far off planet. They will twist our ears the same irrespective of our racial and national differences. So while we give each other bloody mouths with solid punches, it will serve humanity to chalk out a collective framework to deal with global level threats, dangers and risks that will challenge our very existence as a race.

A tragic comma in a fastly scrawled sentence

 

The other day, on the way to the town, a sad spectacle unfolded on the road. A hit and run case. A crime, unaccountable though because the life lost didn't belong to the Homo sapiens. It was a dog and since the law-books give enough space to the mankind in this matter, people drive rashly, trample over the so-called lesser lives, and move on nonchalantly. It doesn't even count as a happening. Happenings, or mishappenings, are classified according to their human-centric valuation and assessment.

The poor thing was lying on the edge of the road, a pool of blood by its open mouth, making its loud statement of a murder. But unfortunately such statements are majorly heard by poetic people or the ones carrying soft hearts. They at least ought to pay a silent homage.

Another dog was tentatively, after all death is such a big event, sniffing at the blood. It was a very sad sight. ‘What must this living dog be thinking? Has the event somehow changed its normal perception of taking blood as food?’ I moved on with my sad, brooding reflections.

Mother existence has her own ways of providing us the answers that we need. On my way back after an hour or so, I saw my answer written on the scene. The other dog was sadly sitting by the dead one; its front paws stretched out, head supported on them, sadly looking at the canine dead body. So this one was the friend of the dead dog, sitting there in condolence and companionship! Look at the bond. They must have played together so fondly and then some uncaring human trod over their bond, cleaving it apart.

Well, the law-books don’t have any space for such smaller murders. But at least the book of values in our heart and conscience ought to have some lines of empathy for the so-called lesser lives. Those unwritten laws should hold us responsible for our legalized transgressions. They should hold us accountable for the injuries and harm done by us to the so-called smaller forms of life. They should remind us to drive carefully in order to spare not just humans but cats, dogs and reptiles also.       

A page in the book of an old school guy

 

I know I'm from the old school. But here is a message for the new-age people grappling with the issues of relationships. Don't tear away the bond suddenly, turning the other one as a redundant item. Talk it over and transform it into a milder bond, put your case gently. If the person isn't suitable in the new phase of life, don't make him/her a dark angel at least. Transform it into friendliness (it's possible by the way—with open heart-to-heart talks) and drift away gently. There aren't bloody cleavages in this, leaving one party broken and the other one guilty. Why run away? If you run away in haste, you will carry lots of pain with you and this will draw you into similar circumstances with a different person in future because of its sheer momentum in your system.

I know ex-lovers can still become possessive and take your friendliness and nicety as willingness to come together again. But that's just an impulse at the initial time. If you maintain your courtesy, friendliness, dignified respect, impersonal aloofness and sufficient detachment (that separates friendliness from a love relationship), the other person will get the message very soon. Then you won't have a big block list in your phone. And blocks in our phones are merely forced attempts at negating a still nagging reality, an artificial attempt to bury a pain. It stands for either a feeling of victimhood or guilt.

If you drift away gently, allowing him/her to see you walking away, sometimes looking back with a friendly smile, sometimes waving a bye, then he/she won't feel cheated or broken or dumped. Why leave someone broken? You have every right to proceed with your choices for the future. But why run away? Because if you run away, those same circumstances follow you in a similar relationship with another person. So walk away, if that’s necessary, into the sunset with a friendly smile.

Crawling fluidity

 

Have you seen a snake beautifully crawling across little spaces, tiny crevices, stony earth, prickly branches and thorny boughs? It slithers away so majestically; with a fluidity matching the water’s. I think a snake is almost a more tangible manifestation of water in fluidity; a crawling mellowness. So the next time you come across a snake, don’t jumpstart and put your body in panic gear to saunter away. Just gently stay there. Believe me it won’t turn back to kiss your skin. It has far better things to kiss including his woman for love and frogs and mice for hunger. So as long as you are an appreciating spectator it would mind its business and allow you to mind yours.

A snake crawls so beautifully even across the big heaps of prickly boughs and branches of thorny keekars without injuring itself. Its mellow fluidity allows it to circuit around the thorns and obstructions. I think a snake has a message here for we humans as we move on the prickly path of life. To move with gentleness, fluidity, acceptance and liberty across the thorns of judgments, hate, complexes, anger, fear and insecurities. These are the thorns put on our path through which we have to crawl. Run or walk with all the negativities and rigidities of fears and insecurities and they bleed our feet. And move with the streaming gentle fluidity of acceptance and non-judgments, we simply find ourselves beautifully crawling across the pinchy, thorny obstructions. Mother nature has scrawled beautiful life lessons across the vast sprawl of her book of nature. We just need to be a bit more aware to read it. Ahha, the wonders of the book of life!

Tau's knowhow

 

Tau Hoshiyar Singh is confidently inching towards the three figure mark, a century of years on earth. He has been a cricket fan and would like to hit a ton. If he gets out in late nineties then he might consider his innings a failure. So I would pray that he meets his target. A very hardworking farmer till five years back, when his grandchildren and wards forced him into retirement (because he would hackle with them at the farms trying to force his age-old farming techniques), he now spends time at chaupals. He has enough stamina left to compete with young idlers in card games, drawing hookah smoke in a long-long draught, and giving his opinions on political and social matters. From his enthusiasm, I’m sure he is up for a century of years.

He sometimes pays me a visit, special visits I would say. These are primarily to make me realize the real me and act accordingly. An illiterate hardworking farmer, he has been, like others of his ilk in the peasantry of Punjab and Haryana, a follower of Swami Dayanand. To them the Swami’s words on all aspects connote the ultimate truth. The simple farmers just deny any possibilities beyond that.

So he wants to have a modern-day Swami Dayanand. He has cutely misinterpreted my bookish ways as signs of saintliness. ‘You can become like Swami Dayanand, I tell you! Just that you need to simply leave your house forever, abandoning everything and set out on foot like he did! You have it in you!’ he would express his expectations from me. ‘Why don’t you quit this house and everything else?’ he has asked a few times. At those times I feel like pouring salt in his tea and chilies in his hookah tobacco. Don’t know why he is so eager to see me as a beggar roaming around. Anyway, he is an elder and he has his rights to expect.

The other day, he is taking sips at tea served by me, coolly taking out a flea that had fallen in it, saying, ‘You never know even this mix of flea and tea might do some good to the system of elderly people like me’. Well, he usually has a solid point to back his wisdom, so I generally avoid falling in arguments with him.

Now me being me, full of books in the mind, I have a tendency to start giving lectures on various topics. God knows how come this topic of cars arrived during the talk. I am soon lecturing him about the costliest cars whose prices go into crores of rupees. His eyes are literally popping out. To him money came in pennies at the cost of loads of sweat in the agricultural farms. So the talk of so much money leaves him slightly perturbed. ‘What do they call them?’ he asks me, his eyes wide after I have talked about Rolls Royces, Hummers, Jaguars, Volvo, Mercedes and more. ‘Cars, cars with different names,’ I expound. ‘Then what is yours?’ he asks, pointing at my little old car. ‘It also is a car,’ I’m slightly embarrassed. ‘Yours should be called something else,’ he is so wise.

Then he is asking what is different about those big cars. I am trying my level best to expound their specialties, which fall out of the zone of his understanding. ‘What happens if there is a traffic jam? How is this big car different from the ones like yours, which you also call as a car?’ he interrogates. ‘Well, it has to wait on the road like any other car,’ I reply. ‘Then what is the use of throwing away so much of money if it cannot even fly in air for some time and take you out of the jam?’ he asks. I hardly have any answer. My books haven’t equipped me with those facts. If I try to explain that these are the things in the mind, that’s the urge to stand out higher than the others, he won’t take this logic. Because as a hardworking farmer he cannot relate to the bugs of mind like most of us do in a consumerist society. So Tau takes leave but not before reminding again, ‘Why are you wasting your life? Leave home and hearth and become a sanyasi and turn Maharishi Dayanad and change the society,’ he advises the course of action. He basically means that I should turn a hardworking ploughman in the field of religion and spirituality.

Well, I understand from where the grouse originated. Tau was at the forefront of canvassing the rival army in fighting against my little battle of saving myself from the yokes of matrimony. He did his best to get me yoked into the lurching countryside cart of matrimony. He approached with many arranged marriage proposals, out of which I slipped out like a cunning, slippery eel. To him it’s foolish to stay unmarried and still stay in the human society. Such people must go to the forests. That’s why he wants me out and join the league of wandering mendicants of India.

A canine love triangle

 

This is a solitary trail running between the canals. It’s the last hideout for me and the wilderness in the area. I follow the solitary trail in the evenings. I go up and down the narrow path—a nice exercise of going with the flow and against the stream (psychological aspect only)—as the sun’s red ball dives into the silvery pools over the horizon. A cold night builds up, taking everything into its dark folds. But I see more clearly—the light inside, giving more awareness within the self. Little prinias have retired in their tiny grass homes among the tall pampas grass on both sides. Now and then there is a rustle.

I meet many dogs on the way. There are some fish ponds, poultry farms and mushroom farms on both sides. I reckon there are thirty to forty stray dogs in the area. They take up this solitary trail to cross over to this or the other side of the canals. The more cautious ones use a three feet footbridge over one of the canals. The adventurous types have their fording points across the canals. There is a big iron water pipe passing over one of the canals, half of it submerged under the water and the other half above it to serve as a nice little bridge for the canines or even the farmers in case they need to cross over to the other side. You just have to walk cautiously to safely cross over.

One day I’m walking on the trail near this pipeline. I meet a black dog with two of her male friends resting on the silt by the footpath. The canine lady and one of the males (a tabby black and white one) got up and easily walked to the other side over the pipeline as they see me approaching. The third dog, a dark brown male, is not confident of walking over the curvy little bridge. It stands on the buttress and sniffs at the iron, tentatively takes its paw forward but then withdraws it. It’s hesitant and walks to the little footbridge over the other canal. But this safe option would take it in the opposite direction of its love interest. It stands in the middle of the tiny bridge and growls at me as I pass, as if accusing me of spoiling its date.

Cross over the safe bridge to the safe shore, dog, if your fears drive you away from the call of your heart. But this safe option will take you to the other side of your interests and desires. After accusing me for its own fears, it again comes back to the pipeline as I have crossed the point by this time. I stand at a safe distance to avoid being a culprit for the canine fears. There it stands in a critical dilemma whether to cross over the pipeline or not. The love-struck pair on the other side is frolicking among the bushes. Jilted and jealous it whines in frustration. Little does it realize that its own fears are responsible for its frustrating situation. It’s afraid of a fall in the water from the pipe, a fall of mere 1.5 foot because the pipeline is half submerged in the water. Fall is its phobia. So it takes a safer option—it jumps into the water and swims to safety, all drenched up and shivering.

The moral of the story is that by surrendering to your imaginary fears, you forfeit your right to the entire set of possibilities. You already accept the worst thing that would have befallen you, a mere fraction of the possibilities, as you allow yourself to be cut to your minimum by the imaginary fears. What would have happened—at the most—if it had decided to walk over the pipeline? At the worst it would have fallen and get wet but still would have crossed over. But there was a big chance that it would have crossed over without wetting its fur, all dry and in high spirits. But by this time the other two already looked like a cupid-struck pair. Females hardly care about cowards. The moment when it struggled to the point where they were playing, both of them easily walked over to the former side. Now it’s standing at the opposite buttress, undecided whether to walk over or swim. It has already forgotten that it’s all wet and is now entitled to go all fearless. But our imaginary fears rarely leave us with enough sense—common sense I mean.