A Note of Thanks for my Dear Readers

 

Dear readers, your love and affection is the basic driver of my urge to keep posting on my blog. A few people tell me that my writings have brought a positive change in their life. That’s enough reason to keep writing. As I write this, we are facing lots of challenges due to the pandemic. These last two years have been very tough for most of us.

Things are rough indeed. But isn’t life only about successfully crossing a series of hurdles? And then reach home, finish that last line, with a smile.

What if the room full of miseries appears immovable at the moment? Accepted that the room with its thick walls is beyond your capacity to shift its location or change its shape. You cannot push its walls to change its shape and change the interiors. You might even be incapable of removing the darkness inside, having lost the light of enthusiasm, the sunrays of your will power, and the brightness of your passion.

It is not necessary to be a revolutionary fighter all the time. You can very well sit in a still darker corner of the room full of your own miseries, most of them invisible to the uncaring world outside. But then sitting in a dead dark corner is being dead and we have no business to be dead before we actually die. Temporary shelter in the lap of a musty, stale corner might be of some utility, but it’s not more than allowing the tears and anguish of self-pity and helplessness to flow out through the feeling of being a victim.

Once this little puss is out of your wounded system, it serves no purpose at all. A little bit of crying after being overpowered by the feeling of victimization at the hands of forces beyond one’s control helps. Crying helps in letting out the salt from your injuries. It also clears the eyes. After the watery outpour, you are supposed to see better and clearer.

You have been on the hospital bed, taking a bit of rest for the diseased, afflicted self. Now you are supposed to step down, wear your slippers and walk away to claim what you lost while you were forced to take a rest.

Looking beyond your dark corner in the murky room with immoveable walls, you can at least open the windows that either you or the situational winds have banged shut. Do not move the walls, do not even try to bang against the locked door, just open the openable window to allow a bit of light, to expose yourself to the fine traces of light that will surely burn the fire in you again, that will definitely ignite your passion, enthusiasm and the willpower lying dormant.

If you cannot lift your roomful of miseries on your head and throw it miles away, you can surely lift little-little signs of your worth and capabilities lying around your feet in the dark and look at these against the light from the just-opened little window. These are the imperishable seeds; these cannot die, and will surely grow into a luxuriant harvest, provided you give them even the moisture of your feeble self during the re-germination phase.

You might not be able to laugh to the full contentment of the self, but you can smile at the little world outside your tiny peeping window. Even the slightest semblance of smile will do. These are the tiny buds that will surely blossom into full laughing flowers.

Your hands might not be still ready to go agog and start breaking the mightiest boulders around. But you can raise your hands and wave gently at the world outside, it will wave back with grace and acknowledgement, giving back its share with kindest interest.

You might not be still ready for the marathon, but you can shuffle your feet and count your steps and listen to your slow pace between the walls. It will prepare you for the longest journey that you might take. It will be a prelude to your first step on the winnable journey that you will definitely take.

Close your eyes and with an open heart accept your share in making things dark in the room. Nobody is perfect and we just have the bigger or smaller share in our miseries. We cannot change the universe, but we can definitely bring about a little reformation in the self. You might not be able to overhaul your personal self, but you can definitely change tiny bits of life in general. It will blow up the wrong shades, leaving you a totally different person.

Close your eyes again and think of your positives, your advantages, your good qualities. There will be many I’m sure. Look around with a gentle look, these must be somewhere around. You will surely spot them. Smile at the little basketful of your qualities. These are your weapons to help you win through the battles and wars. A mere acknowledgement of their existence will do at this stage. Just caress your qualities and look at these with a proud smile.

These and many little things will help you. Forget about bigger things. These little seeds will grow into a bigger harvest. Just gather these seeds, hold them, they will take you back to the bigger world of shiny roles, responsibilities, praise and achievements.

These little anecdotes and my frank opinions posted on this blog are in celebration of life and living. I sincerely hope the time  invested by a dear reader in reading this blog brings about a positive change. Journey well and never forget your smile as you walk on the beautiful path that life is!

 

Musings on a Hazy Early-winter Day

 

If you can’t respect others’ thoughts, not a big problem with that. Just slog it out—even egoistically—to prove your point. But never do the same in case of feelings. Respect others’ feelings. There is a big difference between thoughts and feelings. You can trample your fellow human beings’ thoughts but please spare their feelings. Feelings are sanctimonious. Leave them unstigmatized and pure on the altar of heart.

***

In the book "Animal Farm" the pigs led a coup against humans, driving them away. Nothing to do with humans and anything related to them, they declared. The commandment included not to stay in the farmhouse once used by the human owner. Later when the group of pigs, the leaders, shifted to the rooms, their propaganda master said it was more suitable to the dignity of a leader to stay in the comfort of a house. Well, it reminds me of Kejriwal and his big official bungalow after becoming the Chief Minister of Delhi.

***

World is just set for fundamental changes. Even birds are taking short-cuts on natural instincts. A dove simply picked few sinews to tag them in the flimsy protection of the money plant clinging to our neem tree, just 2 ft above the ground, visible to wild cats and humans. Laying two eggs it just flew away not to be seen. I found one egg missing and the other somehow fruitlessly stuck up. We have done irreversible damage to nature and its constituents!

***

Among monkeys we grew out of our skin to rule the planet. Among us, now the politicians are evolving faster as a totally different super-species. Time is not far when they will stand out as winners at all levels. So fellows join politics. It’s merely a matter of making good choice in the scheme of evolution.

  

***

"When they measured my stature, they failed to measure my heart," NFL veteran Vernon Turner on the sports officials' doubts about his suitability for the game given his less than adequate physical attributes. He proved them wrong by not being a product of his DNA. He became a product of his actions. Go within and dab into the innermost reservoirs of your will power. It undoes any evident limitation imposed on the outer surface of our existence. Be tethered to your axis. That is what supports your spin. Forget about the periphery. Those are merely some revolving offshoots of temporary winds let loose by your axial forces.

***

I may not have the genes to be a world champion, but I have the option to act and be a smart, successful, happy, competent, confident and caring human being. And once I do that no reward stays unachievable.

***

Kafka’s unfinished novels are the fullest stories I have ever read.

***

The rich and powerful countries, not willing to engage each other directly in warfare, hit each other through helpless third world countries. They use them like hunters to strike each other. Problem here is that the back is of stone and hardly gets a bruise. The hunter but gets broken. See through the tragic plays unfolding among poor and developing countries. Funny and tragic. That's what modern warfare is all about.

***

Majority of our repentances are born of the failure to act in the past, rather than the actions that failed. So think, rethink, discuss with the best person you have around, and then just nail it man, simply act. The burden of regrets becomes lighter in future.

***

The mighty lord whispers in the softest voice,

My son grow thou stronger and sire chances for those without any choice! 

***

Though your enemy, I am sweet!

My neck thus deserves a softer treat!

***

You know why people kick a football? Simple, because it reacts and invites more kicky acts! And why don’t they kick a stone? Because it doesn’t react, only your toes get an ache! So fella become stones, controversies will find you untouchable then!

***

A well-timed realization:

Sometimes you have to nearly die to discover the meaning of life.

***

Expansion and contraction—

A raindrop in the ocean,

and a balloon in the air,

One mixing with the whole

to become complete and happily spread out,

The other capturing a part of the hole

to egotistically confine for a specific, limited self.

 

***

My religion is not so weak that in order to show love for it I have to take the support of hate for the religion of someone else.

***

Help your own self by adding little pieces to what you actually are instead of breaking mountains to be what you aren't.

***

The desert storm hunts around with painful fury. The burning beast! Ashes and ambers in its furnaced heart. Unquenchable thirst in its guts. Restless howls echoing in its sandy soul. Its existence defined by a futile belief in death and destruction—the absence and denial of supple, pliant, giving and forgiving waters. Its inflated vastness puffing out lifeless sandy blizzards. Poor thing doesn't know that a tiny oasis silently doing its lifeful duty is dearer to both humans and Gods!

***

In the calm core of my wind-lashed, stormed self,

some unmovable shadow defines the substance of my being.

I but have been running miles after miles,

chasing mirages to find my identity.

***

A dove couple is lost in the surrendering flutter of passionate love notes on a swaying neem branch decked with fresh, monsoon-fed leaves.

Dove in love.

Impatient he.

Teasing she.

Airy swirls.

Hugging frills.

Breeze free.

Passionate spree.

Almost a fight.

Soul's delight.

Love.

Dove.

Love.

 

Some Random Non-offensive Brain-farts

 

A sneeze shakes me and the mucus of opinionated truth dribbles out. Haa Haa…I run to wipe my nose and be presentable.

***

Ah peace, the redundant wish! Worldwide peace and harmony doesn't need authority, power centers and hegemony to sustain. But the latter—authority, power centers and hegemony—surely need strife, wars, violence and bloodbath to sustain them. Peace has never been the focal point of geo-strategists. If it was, most of the issues we are fighting about become redundant by default.

***

Don't write with hate in your heart, even against the most hateful. If good writers write with a bit more sense of equanimity, they do more justice to the art. Falling off the fine line of balance turns them cynical, and it affects their art. The only problem with "The Ministry of Utmost Happiness" is that it's written with too much "hate" for "religious hatred". It somehow taints the soul of the artist. Hate, even for a good cause, easily creeps up to turn to cynicism. The latter sours the spirit, which in turn smiles a degree lesser than in its unadulterated version. But it's human to have our prejudices, even if they come at the cost of losing our balance a bit. Otherwise the book is poignant and moving beyond words.

***

Learn to smile big from your small corner. It's the smallest plant in my garden but it beats most of others in bigness of flowers, in numbers and beauty also. It appears so happy to be just itself. No wonder, in a world obsessed with larger and bigger things, it attracts you from its little corner with big bouquet of beauty. It's so tiny and fragile but has a huge blooming spirit. No matter where you are, in whatever circumstances, at whatever ladder in the scheme of things, you can bloom at your own level to the fullest. And when you are true to your own being, your own self, you attract bigger eyes by default.

***

Shut your mind's eyes and hypothetical projections cease to be. Well, nothing exists as long as I choose to ignore it. And who are you? My colors are my own unlike yours. 

***

A moment drops from the endless sea of existence. Childish bud, youth in full bloom and dead decaying petals of an old flower. I see them on a jasmine leaf arranged as a big lesson. I decide to read. Nature accepts fluidity and transition. Spot impermanence and grab your moment now, this very moment. Mystical handover of the baton: little bud to full bloom to crumpled petals. Accept the change because that's what keeps nature alive.

***

A small leaf holds its drops of rain and proclaims, “My water! There may be seven seas around abounding with endless waters. But I reserve my right to hold the raindrops because those clouds rained for me only.”

Farts of a Village Frog

 

There is an independent will pervading the universe, expanding with the cosmic extension it elopes with the infinity. Its particles sneak into our subconscious mind, leading us in directions where we won't go consciously. No wonder our minds are such restless, unchecked horses. Thoughts just float around. It’s a chaos, disorderly mess. The mind is the sea in constant upheaval. There are storms of thoughts, ideas and emotions. The challenge lies in taming the self, in building strong ramparts against the meteoritic onslaught of the rampaging soldiers of the universal free-will. The citadel of the self has to be strong to withstand the barrage. Once the meteoritic showers stop their random crash-landings in our brain, it will turn a cool, tranquil, peaceful and calm pond where one can see the real self reflected in crystal clear waters.

***

One minute of hate and anger comes at the cost of one hour deducted from life. Hate is the choice of the worst; love is the smilingly picked up gift of the best. The journey from the worst to the best doesn’t cross seven seas. It’s just an arms-length endeavor. You just let go hate from one hand and hold love delicately in the other. It simply requires this much for the biggest transformation, from the worst to the best. Choose to be the best.

***

In the farthest fathoms of my being, a steady lamp is aglow with its soft mystical rays. I but kept on looking heavenwards for light and guidance, ignorant of the tiny torch carrying the cosmic flame within. Blinded by the worldly blaze outside, I fell headlong. Even the tiny lamp inside toppled and put heart on fire. Don’t worry guys, it gives just acidity. A bit of heartburn. Maya mili na ram—the end result!  

***

Two honeybees drowning in the water bucket. I take them out and they fly. Apart from saving two lives, I create the possibility of an extra honey drop for this bitter world. Goodness is complete in itself. It doesn't need the outcome to qualify it quantitatively. Do your good deed. It might be almost invisible, but it carries a positive outcome in some corner of the universe.  

***

Strong lies are better than weak truths. Sounds quizzical? Well, it’s no more than the support and confidence in your truth that draws the lot in its favor. Your truth is truth as long as it survives on the life-force of your trust in it. Strong lies are nothing but the tombstones and graves built on the dead truths buried safely for convenience.

***

After socialism you have to build capitalism. Ever saw anything more contradictory? Look at all the socialist societies. After the class wars and purging, and decades of torture and robbing people of their free-will and independent choices, they plant the seeds of capitalism again. Why? Because there is simply no other way. Efforts at socialism are all like burning down the previous harvest, weeding out endlessly, tilling, breaking clods, preparing the seed-bed, only to plant the previous seeds again. Damn funny and tragic. If all this ends at the same point then why all this blood-bathing?

***

At least be a living-room dissident. It saves the soul against the evil. This is a bit of practical advice to those struggling against undemocratic governments, for example, democracy supporters in Hong Kong. It keeps the flame alive for more appropriate times.

***

Imagine a philosophy student working in a boiler-plant, or a pianist working on radio circuits. Such wonders are possible only in a communist society. It’s only about killing the freedom of mind and choking the spirit to mass produce zombies who don’t understand much about what human life is all about. Left-leaning Indian intelligentsia ought to be put to some manual labor to get the rust off their ideology-clogged brains.

***

"A communist is someone who's read Marx, an anti-communist is someone who's understood him."
Svetlana Alexievich

***

When it rains in Haryana, the most chilled out people are the electricity board staff for they cool their heels and bless us with 24 hour power cuts, always everywhere in the villages at least. Possibly the belief is that once blessed with rains, the farmers don't need anything else in life. Anyway, it doesn't pinch too much because even on the finest day we have at least 14-16 hours of power cut. Our CMs have changed but they are all comfortable with the power cuts in the countryside at least. A very suitable agreement on certain policies, I see. It was the same under Chautala, Hooda and remains the same under Khattar. Possibly some things are better left unchanged.

***

Second-Hand Time by Svetlana Alexievich is elegantly fat, white, hardbound and seductive. Lose yourself to its charms. It will open up the communist-time horrors of stifled emotions, imprisonment of the individual soul and loss of the natural ability to even make sense of what freedom is. Hope the caricatured Indian version of communism does some soul-searching after such revelations.

***

 

That which is best, the universe conspires to preserve it. Same is the case with Taoism. Uprooted from China, it will survive in India. Buddhism was India's best export. Taoism can be our best import.

***

Watch your words, your sentences and speech. If you take a stock of the overall pitfalls of your life, your words, not the real bloody punches you gave out, might be the spoiler. It’s not usual to have a war. Real fights and bloody noses are exceptions. These come rarely. In between, most of the time, we are blabbering. So buddy it’s the words that carry the risk to land us in testing, awkward and painful situations. And of course words take us to the best moments of our lives also. 

Dumplings on a Rainy Day and Croaking of an Old Toad

 

Soul is the real substance! This physical being is just the shadow of that true self. Ironically we grow up believing the shadow to be the substance and substance to be the shadow. It requires reverse conditioning to be truly on the path of evolution.

***

For good people it’s very difficult to enter a relationship and still more difficult to come out of it! For bad people it’s very easy to get into a relationship and still easier to come out of it!

***

There is no absolute truth. All we have is just a pliant, relatively swaying sea of fractional truths. We draw out our suitable share of tit-bits of truths from this sea to complement our sense of identity with the self, i.e., ego, self-consciousness, our perception of the things, our vision of the world and the people around. 

***

  

Women are humanist! Almost perfect except one thing! Their humaneness crosses the zone of perfection and slightly touches an arena where bitchiness for their own sex starts in free flow. It is here the man's chance to appease his women opens up its welcoming arms. A man has to realize that it is more practical to say a few negatively critical remarks about other women than millions of appreciating words about his woman!

***

In the burning whirlpools of the desert storm, some tears shed by a suffering heart vaporize and go high in the sky for rainy prospects. Don’t get senty guys, it’s just an airy oasis.

***

Don't take victory for granted. She is a very choosy bride. She has her own, sometimes illogical, criteria to pick up the groom.

***

A nuclear bomb undoes all other types of technical superiority in conventional warfare. Similarly, leaps in space technology will see a country undoing various technical superiorities in the hands of rival countries on land.

***

To escape boredom, a man has to just extend his normal schedule; the same extension, which overlaps a woman's effort to tide over her boredom, turns her into a sinner.

***

The best compliment for my book Faceless Gods was by my friend's six-year-old daughter. Struggling to hold the fat book in her small hands, and lost in the dense text, she gave the expert review, "Uncle has got a very nice handwriting."

***

Truth need not be salted. Even in its bland form, it's more vocal than any well-peppered, politically correct, hypothetically safe and socially convenient cuisine.

***

We deserve our airy moments—little-little somersaults and froggy jumps over life's grounded roadblocks; tiny ballooned flights above the rough, rugged realities on the surface. But we must not forget, we are terrestrial beings not the airy angels. So guys ensure that you land rightly on your feet after airy jaunts and not crash-land on your bum.

***

Staring at the misty past

and forcing myself not to see the future eager to unfold itself too fast,

I wave at the nostalgic strains still beckoning and faintly alive,

How I wish I could dive

back into the pools of the past,

To have my moments last

at a place that held me in its cradle soft,

That pious embrace which still holds me aloft!