About Me

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Hi, this is somebody who has taken the quieter by-lane to be happy. The hustle and bustle of the big, booming main street was too intimidating. Passing through the quieter by-lane I intend to reach a solitary path, laid out just for me, to reach my destiny, to be happy primarily, and enjoy the fruits of being happy. (www.sandeepdahiya.com)

Saturday, August 31, 2024

Love

Sometimes you dump a person even though she/he still has a bright smile, twinkle in eyes and lovely fragrant words on lips. Well, that's simply the sunset of love.

Sometimes you lovingly embrace a person despite the frown, caustic remarks and tightly pursed lips shut over bad odor even. Well, that's simply the sunrise of love.

Love is simply a day -- or usually days at random -- in people's lives.

And that makes it so ordinary, so normal, so natural.

Let it remain such.

Why turn it otherworldly?

The teachers

Sometimes the things that would have come naturally to you as a human being acquire a difficult shape because they try to make you learn these by force, fearing you won't be of any use without them. In your natural state you could have been useful, at least like a plant that just grows, giving its little share of oxygen, shade and a little starter to some hungry goat. But the attempt surely leaves you useless -- to them at least. 🤓

Friday, August 30, 2024

The creator

At a given moment, there is no absolute reality or truth or existence beyond one's set of beliefs, knowledge, information, set of conventions and collective mindset, and the respective set of contradictions of all the previous categories. In our endeavours to find the absolute, we simply shift to a different set of all these categories. We simply create a new plain of reality. We keep pushing our truth to cover more space and adjust our ever expanding desires and fears. There is nothing to discover. There is everything to create--first in ideas, imagination, emotions, insecurity, expectations and fears; secondly, its manifestation in physical reality in the domains of art, science, social conventions, economic models, everything.

Wednesday, August 21, 2024

Reading the book of life

 

Aha the book of life! Every day a new chapter. Each incident, happening or phenomenon a fresh sentence with profound meanings.

The new sun rising on a misty morning arriving with the message that there is always light after dark to help us see and realize the illusions and unwarranted fears that we imposed on us in the dark.

The setting sun saying ‘a smiling bye’ with a message that one has to accept and willingly dive into oblivion after a dazzling day, after touching the peak of brilliance, after a full-hearted bear hug with life, after completing an innings in career or a relationship. That a ripe fruit has to drop, that even very dear people will go out of life, that smiles will be followed by tears as well. Acceptand recognize that we have to welcome this play of existence in totality and that includes smiles-tears, win-loss, falling in love, partings, birth-death. Everything.

The shifting shades and reshaping clouds in the sky brimming with the message of change and impermanence, of new forms overtaking the old ones, of a smooth transition, of the old changing into the new without any drama, without any hassles.

Mother earth holding this portion of existence on her maternal palm with unconditional love and the undying spirit of just giving all that Her children need. The message of giving! How much more satisfying it seems in comparison to taking! That we evolve by a great margin just by giving a smile. And ‘taking’ also is highly undervalued. If we ‘take’ with a smile and gratitude, doesn’t it create a ‘giver’ who became joyful for the act? Mother existence prefers a graceful and full of gratitude ‘taker’ than a cranky ‘giver’. Give with a smile of kindness and empathy; take with a smile of gratitude. To mother existence these are simply two facets of the same coin.

The chirping of birds conveying the spirit of keeping songs alive on one’s lips even while engaged in the day-to-day commitments and routine practicalities of life. Their free flights spreading the fragrance of freedom, the urge to fly on one’s own path.

The trees with the message of growth irrespective of the changing environment and the divine instinct of giving fresh air, shade to the weary traveller, inspiration to artists, nests to the birds, fruits for the hungry. A new shoot sprouting from the cut on their bark:the message that we too can get fresh colors and shoots to our personality at the points of cuts, wounds and adversities.

The flowers with the message that smiles carry the touch of divinity, that fragrant petals and nectar fuel the colorful sorties of many butterflies, that we too touch many lives positively with our gentle manners, smiles and sweetness of temperament. That our rainbowed touch can make many people joyful like nectar-satiated butterflies. We smile, say soft words, treat them gently and they soar high and become joyful.

Beautiful relationships with the message that our travel-weary heart, mind and body need a soft touch, a cool brace, a healing bonhomie; that friends, family, relatives, partners, lovers are all there to help us cross a milestone on our eternal journey and then melt and get reshaped like clouds in the sky. But we carry the invisible imprint of their persona on our individual selves. It’s firmer than a line on stone. People might have tears on account of you, once the pathways have parted, but ensure that the tears are accompanied by a smile as well so that the dry tears don’t singe someone’s soul.

A river in the hills, furiously cutting big boulders, passing the message that we have to raise a blizzard of karma to later enjoy a peaceful flow in the planes and still later merge into the bigger serenity of the sea. That we have to cut karmic stones to come out of the stones, walk joyfully on the plane of relationships, kindness, care, share and finally sleep in the lap of mother sea.

The silence in a forest loaded with the message that this is what all the words and languages point to, the language of silence, the mother of all sermons and preaching.

The exotic chaos and cluttering noise in a city heavily pregnant with the message that all of us are destined to wade through inner conflicts, puzzles, trauma and tension like the common people beautifully engaged in the sweet-sour poignancy of the cities.

Falling in love loaded with joy, pleasure, care and share. It tells how important these feelings are for our wellbeing. Just recall the feeling of bliss while freshly in love! Isn’t that wonderful?

Falling out of love, tears, pain and suffering passing the message that we always could have been better lovers. In any case, it’s always for the best in future. We just become better lovers after partings.

Everything around us is full of messages. The book of life! Observe it, feel it, understand it. It opens the experiential dimension in life. With experiential knowing, the phantoms of intellect and mind take a backseat. They always bow down to the confident sovereign, the soul, the observer now fully aware of its kingdom, its colors, shapes, hues, everything.

The beauty of carefully reading the book of life is that we learn to touch our own self, our own body, mind, thoughts and emotions with more empathy and self-love. We fall in love with the life overall. We simply come out of the definition of life within this particular body and feel related to the life overall. Then we touch many lives very-very positively. We become healers without trying to do it intentionally. It’s just a natural state of being in that dimension. Happy reading the book of life!

Enjoy what is still left there

 

We have to deal with mother nature’s slingshots. Just a week back it was extremely cold, and through the gloomy, cold, wet last week of January one could all but pray for the savior sun. Now in the first week of February, the sky is bright and clean and the sun so hot that you feel its heat too much to sit under it even in the morning. So I would say that we have the spring already. But it would be better to call it the spring of the nights, mornings and evenings when there is cool breeze, dew and light mist. The days have all that that makes them entitled for early summer. Beyond all these travails, the beauty would have its moments of sojourns.

As I walk on the thin ribbon of wilderness between the canals cutting across the well-manicured agricultural fields of wheat and mustard, the bright red disk of the sun hovers over the silvery sea of the mist over the horizon. It’s assuring that we still have beautiful moments of sundown. Also, even the crazily intensified farmsteads are better than bladeless concrete jungles. These scatterings of the trees over the channel bunds, embankments and dust paths are better than complete deserts. These sparse clumps of grasses and bushes are still better than lifeless, floored and tiled boulevards.

As the little groups of birds return to their host trees, it again strikes me that we ought to feel gratitude for what is still there. As the sun is downing, the moon is already visible high on the horizon—an almost perfect moon, just a day short of fullness, having a little blur at its lower rim. The two celestial beauties ogle at each other.

A dog barks and I recall three little puppies that have grown very possessive about the tiny village square. It’s their territory and they mean to defend it. I have seen big outsider dogs walking off the scene under their shrill assault.

It was a sad balloon seller who came with a few balloons on his rickety cycle. He walked dejectedly and the canine lads howled to give a suitable gloomy music. The bigger ones howled too. Then a young one almost hitched a ride on their mother. But it had to retreat under their shrill protest. ‘Don’t do it dog! We aren’t yet ready to share our milk with new puppies!’ they seemed to say, bark rather.