Hammering the nails into the box of destiny

God was hammering down nails into my wooden being to shape the box of my destiny. I but kept on crying with pain and cursed him for his mercilessness. My prayers egging Him on to toil more on my behalf and all this while I thought He was deaf. Making is a bit painful buddy, but believe every nail writes the script of many-many pleasant moments in future. Pain is never futile. It’s always a box in the making. And was construction ever devoid of pain, sweat, labour and suffering? These are just simply elements of ‘making’. Now I see the beautiful artwork of the box and come to realize why those nails were hammered. It was all meant to see me home. So love your struggles and sufferings buddies. That is when you actually get ‘made’ into something substantial. During the so called smooth phase when the life is safely on autopilot, you just trundle ahead carrying your old self cocooned in the make-believe sense of being happy and content. But in reality you hardly move ahead during this phase. The routine just plods you ahead like an impassive dummy. Be willing to accept your pain, suffering and struggle. It’s one of the best investments I know about. When you come out of the last dark hours of the night, believe me the sun shines resplendently like never before.

Love in the times of war

"But how deeply, painfully, irreparably had he wounded her and upset her life, and how restless and violent she was in her determination to re-shape her destiny and start afresh!" ___Boris Pasternak in Dr Zhivago

The smell is mildly pungent, of tobacco, of paper, soaked in the spirits of literature. Classics are classics. As I douse my hunger down the pages, a surprise awaits. A huge bonus which makes my day and turns me richer. A surprise gift. The story ends to live in your memory. But then there is a beginning once more. There are 43 pages of poetry, taking the last page of the book to the dreamy depths, to last forever. That's how Boris Pasternak surprises and gives a bonus to his readers in Dr Zhivago. 

Flower and snake caught in the single loop of memory

Some moments just get etched in your memory. Their empowering aesthetics or intimidating impulses can still tickle the senses even a decade later. Such moments define life, make it momentous. These moments stand as the real milestones notifying the flow of invisible, unstoppable stream of time. Such moments stand out in two ways: a) raising your hair, jolting your senses and giving scary Goosebumps; b) massaging your aesthetic senses in a way that you retain the touch almost throughout life. I can recall two such moments.

The first one occurred a decade back at the start of the winters in Delhi. As the metro's first ladies only coach eased its beautiful burden, I found myself walking down the stairs among a fragrant swarm of few dozen beautiful ladies. Colorful woolens…Deo and perfume...grace and beauty. Flowers. I felt like in a perfumery...like a guilty black-bee in a garden. It was really overpowering. I can still smell and see those moments as vividly as it happened a decade ago. Some moments just refuse to fade from your mind’s horizon. 

The second one still sees me swathed with swirling emotions of scared ecstasy, awe, plain fear and genuine appreciation. The moment stands erect almost a decade back on the highway of time. I saw two snakes mating..and not on tv guys..in real. Surrendered to slithery, coiled, hissing passion, their venomous stalking turned to submission. The kiss of death morphed into the kiss of love. Their fangs and poison took backseat. Horrified initially, my shaken self felt the coiled fluidity of those two slithery bodies forming love loops…shocking majesty…ecstatic! Those vivid images still crawl in my mind like it’s happening now itself.

A little Zen practice

The shifting stage of life. The biggest truth about life: change, impermanence. From 7 AM last morning to 7 AM this morning. 24 hours of change. From armful to fistful...from coquettish smile to crumbling grimace...from the skies to the ground...from running to rest...a very simple Zen technique I use every morning to stamp home the biggest truth which we tend to forget while we boast, fret, fume and stomp on the stage of life. So as the grains of time's sand slip through your fist, be happy, enjoy, smile, love and care for those around, so that when you look back from your mound of dust you find it meaningful.

A smile's life on cobwebbed lease

Sometimes existential support, as slim as an almost invisible single strand of spiderweb, sees you smiling well beyond your expected time. It's 4:30 PM the next afternoon. The pair, a souvenir of a lovely, cool, dewy night, still hangs almost in full life. These are night blooming jasmine flowers. They bloom under dewy starlight at night, and tumble down happily at the dawn, pulled by mother nature's call for cyclical transformation. But then some chance innings outfox the routine cast of apparent reality to carry further on to reach some milestone. These couple of flowers saw the youthful charm of full bloom at cool October night. Thousands around them toppled down at the day's onset through a slightly misty morning and are almost recycled to dust in the ground. But mischievous destiny lends out a strand of web, and here they are swirling and swaying to gentle breeze of these balmy early winter days. Little ounce of beauty and fragrance hanging like chandelier signifying the imperishable aesthetics of love, peace and harmony.