The Croakings of an Old Toad -- 3

 About the number of breaths per minute, a very prominent spiritual guru says that if one’s breath becomes seven, the person comes to know everything that is worth knowing in the game of mother existence. The body turns very stable. In this stillness, there is no rustle. One simply perceives everything. The body still perceives because if not for this one cannot exist. One might not be aware of it, but one’s body perceives precisely the manner the earth’s spinning, what is going in the sun, how and why happenings are going around. As long as one is alive, one’s body keeps adjusting to all this wonderful phenomena.

I don't know how to put it. My breathing rate at rest is seven breaths per minute. But far from feeling the divinity of it, as the great guru says, I feel as restless and ignorant as ever. I mean I remember my journey from 12 breaths/minute to the present rate. But as far as feeling is concerned, it’s the same. The bliss is missing. I still lack that crucial experiential dimension of knowledge. All the knowledge I possess seems theoretical and worthless. The entire set of stuff crammed in the mind is worthless unless one enters the experiential dimension. Till then all are same, be it a doctorate in philosophy or an illiterate beggar.

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Try to be a bird that enjoys perching upon the scarecrow itself. In easy lingo, s(h)it on your fears and bury them with the unwanted extras in you.

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Do you know who has got the most benign and captivating smile in the world? It’s an old man...blind. His smile is pure...pious. Why? Because he can’t wear a mask. Or rather, he need not. He doesn’t even know what is wearing a mask all about. He shows his real self. He can’t even see others wearing masks. So that helps a lot because most of our deeds are mere compulsive imitation of others. No wonder, he has a genuine smile on a genuine face!

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The Croakings of an Old Toad -- 2

 

As Joe, the simple, but true to himself, countryside blacksmith tells Pip, the gentleman in making due to a sudden arrival of fortune, and hence under the weight of great expectations in Dickens’ masterpiece Great Expectations:

‘...life is made of ever so many partings welded together...’

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A little light of truth and one’s soul blooms up like a spring flower! I stare at new blossoms for many minutes. It gives inspiration to stay positive and smile more.

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Joe, the true-to-himself countryside blacksmith in Great Expectations ‘did his duty in his way of life, and with a strong hand, a quiet tongue, and a gentle heart.’

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Through the harshest phase of the winters, it was a sickly plant, subdued like an old man having aggravated bronchial problems. Then the healer comes in vibrant colours. Father sun sows the seeds of spring around. The plant feels well and says, ‘I'm ok now!’ This little bud is the title of its wellness. Happy spring, little flower!

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Some more weekend gifts to my very own dear self! Some books, what else! Shower yourself with self-love! Rest of the issues are mere offshoots of the same.

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It’s the Valentine Day. The full-blossomed rose has mother night still kissing her petals through many dewdrops. Young lass and her dewy jewellery! It seems to say: ‘A bright, happy and joyful Valentine day to everyone! Love you all!’

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When we talk of this existence as an infinite entity, there has to be some illusionary element in its pattern. Only something dreamy, illusionary has the probability of spreading its spectrum in infinite ways. A specific entity cannot be explained in terms of infinity. Infinity is possible only when we include some illusionary elements in our estimation of the ultimate.

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I have seen many people who are good by instinct. Then there are many who at least try to be good after carefully measuring things on the scale of good and bad. The former are a bit more evolved on the basis of past karmas. The latter are a work in process. Everyone around is simply a work in process, a phenomenon.

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A rose in the garden has blossomed almost perfectly. It looks welcoming the entire cosmos, opening its scented petals with a welcoming embrace. This is what we call full flowering. Blossoming so much, opening its petals with such joy that disintegration and decay turns a mere soothing further step in one’s blossoming, in being alive. Once you open up fully, bloom totally and live completely, the scattering and disintegration turn meaningless. To be completely alive is beyond the duality of being and non-being. So blossom fully and live completely to perfection. Painless disintegration is possible only when you have used up all life force in blossoming full. It happens when you welcome life with the widest bear hug. This is expansion. Then a playful tug of the gentle air will aid in further expansion. Like the petals of this perfectly blooming rose fly with majestic ease. A drizzle of ecstasy will occur. The petals will fly away to be a bigger part of a larger dimension. The smile doesn’t die. It acquires a broader plane.

The Croakings of an Old Toad -- 1

 An exciting novel about a count politely moving on his courteous path of inherent dignity in the wake of the Russian revolution, Thoreau’s escapades into the nature and the resultant chronicles in Walden, and Eckhart Tolle’s seminal work on the power of ‘Now’. It’s a little treasure on my table: a self-gift to my very own dear self on a wet, gloomy, cold day. Why depend only on others for beautiful gifts? Start viewing your purchases as the gifts to your own dear self. A warm, exciting feeling pervades my mind and heart. I stare at them like a little hungry puppy ogling at a soft piece of meat. Water-mouthed!

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One can’t hope to survive as an all-out truth-speaking guy. Remember Jesus, Socrates and many others. These are hard times. Truth (majorly) needs to be supported by falsehood (minorly). A fraction of falsehood pandering the vanity of a little section will save your truth against the ire of the bigger section whom you rib-tickle with the iron fingers of your truth.

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Look out for beautiful people around you. They are great in their simple ways. They are exceptional and unique even while they are part of the rutted routine. But they run this world and touch our lives in constructive ways that we hardly realise. As Charles Dickens says, ‘It's not possible to know how far the influence of an amiable honest-hearted duty-going man flies out into the world; but it’s very possible to know how it has touched one’s self in going by...’

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Try to stand proud in front of your own conscience first. The rest will follow. As Thoreau sums it up so beautifully: ‘Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.’

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Your time is far more important than you ever imagined. Use it, don’t bruise it. As Thoreau says, ‘As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.’

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By the diverse sets of cleverest means, most of us arrive at the same set of follies. We are the masters of copying and repetition, even if they are follies. They give us a sense of ‘doing’ something.

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The loving ripple of your lips on my cheek! Softest in silky emotion but sturdiest in ironed strength and steely support!

Postscript: Speaking from objective, theoretical knowledge; not from subjective, personal experience. Well, that shows poetry can come from calculating mind as well, not just from a heart caught in emotional whirlwinds.

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Don’t belittle or glorify your series of relative truths. These are no more than mind-created concepts and no less than the shadow of absolute truth when there is still no clue about the final truth. Watch them as no more or less than what they are and they become the stepping stones to the ultimate reality.

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Just into unexpected fortunes, an adolescent Pip, forced into stylish clothes, muses about a simple rural blacksmith in Dickens’ masterpiece Great Expectations:

‘I am conscious that he carried off his rather old clothes much better than I carried off my new suit.’

Playacted niceties are still soulless and genuine rusticity will still have its class and affable spirit. An open falsehood is still better than the pretended truth. Because as another character says so aptly, ‘No varnish can hide the grain of the wood; and that the more varnish you put on, the more the grain will express itself.’

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A message for my dear readers

 

With gratitude and love for all those who read my books. If not for these few lovely people, my pen would turn dry. It’s a pleasure to share my stories with you. Stay blessed.

Dear reader, it’s a beautiful world. If you are happy and joyful, this entire existence feels the same through you. If you exist on a plane of harmony and peace, you invite the entire cosmos to the same plane. When you smile, everything around you does the same. So be a joy-maker and see the beauty underlying everyone and everything around you.

Look out for beautiful souls around you. They are great in their simple ways. They are exceptional and unique even while they are part of the rutted routine. But they run this world and touch our lives in constructive ways that we hardly realise. As Charles Dickens says, ‘It's not possible to know how far the influence of an amiable honest-hearted duty-going man flies out into the world; but it’s very possible to know how it has touched one’s self in going by...’

Through my stories, I try to positively touch the lives of my dear readers. These stories deal with common people who try to stand proud in front of their own conscience. The rest of the life’s tale naturally follows from this point. As Thoreau sums it up so beautifully: ‘Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate.’

I hope the time invested in reading these stories serves a good purpose for you. Your time is far more important than you ever imagined. Use it, don’t bruise it. As Thoreau says, ‘As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.’

As I write this, a rose in the garden has blossomed almost perfectly. It looks welcoming the entire cosmos, opening its scented petals with a welcoming embrace. This is what we call full flowering. Blossoming so much, opening its petals with such joy that disintegration and decay turn a mere soothing further step in one’s blossoming, in being alive. Once you open up fully, bloom totally and live completely, the scattering and disintegration turn meaningless. To be completely alive is beyond the duality of being and non-being. So blossom fully and live completely to perfection. Painless disintegration is possible only when you have used up all life force in blossoming full. It happens when you welcome life with the widest bear hug. This is expansion. Then a playful tug of the gentle air will aid in further expansion. Like the petals of this perfectly blooming rose fly with majestic ease. A drizzle of ecstasy will occur. The petals will fly away to be a bigger part of a larger dimension. The smile doesn’t die. It acquires a broader plane.

I hope my stories will add to your smiles. Let’s walk together as I share my little stories.

Croakings of a Clumsy Frog -- 27

 

How would you expect it to be a peaceful world when there are billions with limited means and unlimited infirmities of mind?

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There are far more nice people in the world than you ever imagined. Badness is overhyped. All we need is to keep our hearts open and beautiful people walk into your life like warm sunshine after weeks of snowy blizzard. Keep your hope alive for there comes a beautiful soul just round the next corner. Keep smiling and keep going. Accept the past. Crying over it only spoils the present and breeds bitterness. Crying over it only spoils the present and breeds bitterness. Double said, intentionally. If the present isn't sweet, it only means you carry too much bitterness from the past. Forgetting isn't easy till we forgive. And forgiveness isn't feasible till one is caught in your fault Vs my fault. Don't dissect the past. That's like taking nice dreams and horrible nightmares to be more substantial than the reality. It consumes too much energy. This is cadaverous addiction, a nasty post-mortem of things that hardly matter now. The past is also overhyped in terms of giving us lessons. The present is the workshop to learn and unlearn and all else. Here and now. Here and now. Here and now. One's ability to be here and now gives the weapon to cut unnecessary karmic entanglement. Present moment awareness is the knife that cuts the nasty mooring that keeps us stuck up in stinking muds, keeping us away from the bubbly stream of life. Awareness of here and now is your weapon to slay these phantoms of the mind.

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We come across wrong people only because we have to walk further on to meet the right people who will share a part of their journey with us. Then further on, these right people also appear wrong. So whatever was right was just in its present form. Ultimately, we realise that the final frontier is to be crossed by us all alone. Never expect companionship to see you home in any relationship. These are mere occurrences like trees and flowers falling on your soul's eternal path. Give them respect, give them attention, give them time and energy, for they also do the same. But don't expect them to be the vehicle of your journey. They are just fellow travellers like you and me. Why be so utilitarian to view travellers as the means of taking you to the destination where you feel you will find it joyful. They can be beautiful milestones in your journey at the most.

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Usually, our vilification and villanisation of someone is merely a desperate attempt to ignore the ugliness in our own persona. I think, if we give just one-tenth of the critical attention that we give to others to our own selves, we will have immense opportunity to smile unconditionally as we walk on our path.