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Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Saturday stories


Gull politics


It is Saturday and hubby and I are engaged in shopping. We take a break at lunchtime and are sitting on a bench on Petone beach eating hot chips. Soon we are joined by a lone seagull, orange beak, orange feet and orange lined eyes. Hubby throws bits of chips at him and the gull merrily gorges on junk food. We wonder about the fact that he does not even utter a quack to signal to his gull mates that there is food available. But soon another seagull joins us and then the fun begins.

Gull-1 undergoes a transformation. He starts squawking hoarsely and runs after Gull-2, pointed beak open, trying to run him off the place. Now Gull-2 is a smart fellow, he strategically retreats behind the bench where he is content with the bits that hubby throws backwards occasionally. But Gull-1’s squawks have attracted others of his kind and soon we have  a happy crowd of about 10-12 gulls, some of these, we notice, have black feet, beak and kohl-lined eyes. Owing to the fact that these black-eyed beauties are hovering on the fringes, and are smaller in size than the more flamboyant orange eyed-lined fellas, we conclude that the former must be the females.

Gull-1 is now really busy because more gulls are arriving by the minute and he is spending so much time squawking after them and chasing them that he has ceased to notice that bits of food are still being given. In the midst of his squawking and frantic chasing, the newcomers manage to snatch up the food which he has ignored probably with the mistaken belief that he can run all the others off the beach and be the only partaker of the food. Gull-2 at the back has also established his territory and is valiantly defending his turf.

I cannot help think that this is precisely how humans behave too. We are so busy fighting over land and territory that the basic needs of our people get forgotten. There are some countries that probably spend more of their GDP in defence expenditure than in providing food and basic amenities to its people. Even though we know that there are enough resources to feed the whole world, some of us are intent on cornering most of it in a concerted attempt to have more of more totally disregarding the fact that in the process others are getting less of less. When the US went to war in Iraq, they increased their defence budget and guess where the money came from. Some of it came from social welfare, elderly care and basic medical care. They actually cut back spending on these areas.

Sad to think that we are not so highly evolved after all.

~~~

Daane daane par likha hai khane wale ka naam


It is evening and in order to fulfill a greatly felt need for caffeine we stop at a coffee place. We placidly sipping our lattes when Mathew notices that the person at the counter has just thrown a muffin from the tray into the rubbish bin. “Maybe it was damaged, and they didn’t want to sell it”. A short while later we observe that another batch of muffins is being discarded. And then we watch aghast as tray after tray of unsold muffins vanish into the rubbish bin. It is then that we realize that it is closing time and they are throwing away all the unsold food. Our Indian mentality kicks in and we think, what a waste, surely this could have been given to the poor. But where are the poor? The charitable organizations are state-funded and probably wouldn’t need left-over food. What about poor families, new migrants, refugees? We try to work out the logistics involved in taking the food from eateries and carting it to these people. For the amount of labour and time involved we find that for the business owner it is not viable. The amount of food that restaurants, cafés, takeaways discard everyday must be colossal and yet all around the world people go to sleep hungry, die of starvation everyday. 

Kahi daanon par kissi khana wale ka naam nahi hote,
Kissi khane walon ke kismat mein chand daane nahi hote.


~~~

Friday, December 15, 2006

Lambton landscape

Walking down Lambton Quay one bright, warm, sunny afternoon, my senses are flooded with impressions.

People streaming down the sidewalk, dappled sunshine, warm in the sunlight, cool in the shade.

The aroma of coffee, freshly baked cookies, deep-fried fish and chips, curry, canapes, fresh bread, Indian food tinged with banana leaf (olfactory hallucination? Deep-seated desire?)

Baby blue eyes, black sparkling eyes, slanting eyes, sad eyes, sunglassed eyes.

Mothers pushing strollers with babies, mothers pushing strollers with babies in the fathers’ arms, lunchtime family interlude.

'Abra-kebab-ra' selling kebabs, 'Suzette' selling French crepes, 'Chow Mein' selling chow-mein, 'Tastebuds' tempting the tastebuds.

Drooping mouth, kissing-goodbye mouths, cherry-red mouth, sensuously laughing full mouth.

People with pamphlets – ‘Save the children’, ‘Save the forests’, ‘Save the world’.

Flowery skirts, mini skirts, layered skirts, tightly-clinging skirts over swaying legs.

Shop windows beckoning, Christmas trees twinkling, traffic lights turning amber-red-green, steel-glass structures next to elegantly rising churches.

Sautering walk, hurried walk, lazy hip-swinging sexy walk.

Crying children, happily-skipping children, tantrum-throwing children, toddlers gazing fascinated out of mothers’ arms.

Office-goers picnicing on patches of grass, construction workers on scaffolding hammering, lovers walking hand-in-hand.

People waiting at bustops. Waiting for love, waiting for heartbreak. Waiting at the crossing, ‘Don’t walk’, ‘Go’, just like life.

Stockinged feet, tired feet, sandaled feet, spring-in-the-step feet.

Silvery notes of laughter, broken bits of conversation, music pouring from the CD shop, tenor voices raised in carols, meloncholy rising from a one-stringed violin.

A medley of images, smells, sounds impinge on my senses and I come back feeling like I have just visited a painting.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Silence in Haiku




The sound
of hearts breaking
are echoed in silence.

Footfalls of silence
follow
broken dreams.

And yet,
silence also holds
the hint of hope.

Like shards of moonlight,
through black clouds
on the darkest night.


Saturday, November 25, 2006

Saviour

Until yesterday I was a girl,
running with the other girls,
braids flying, skirts billowing,
to the river to fetch water,
helping Ma make rotis.

Then the crops failed,
we had nothing left to eat,
Baba looked sad and dejected.
A man came from the city to save us,
gave Baba lots of rupees.

Now I am a woman living in the city.
Men do strange things to my body,
it causes me a lot of pain.
It hurts them too I think,
for they moan and groan.

I wish Ma would come
and massage my limbs,
hold me to her bosom.
I wish I could go into the fields
and shriek into the night.

When I left home Ma was sad
but greatly relieved too.
She said I had saved the family,
saved Baba from certain death.
But who will come and save me?

Inspired, nay provoked by an article I read about a young girl sold into prostitution by her farmer father perhaps to escape starvation. Can't point any fingers here. Sabhi haalaat se majboor hai. Maybe the money brought them some respite, maybe they even prospered, but the girl has a dim chance of escaping her fate. She was sold at 14, became a mother at 16, one more mouth to feed, further entrenchment. Makes one wonder of what use is progress if the poor cannot be empowered.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

A Reminding

A long time ago I read a story which for some reason I haven't forgotten yet because the Universe has got into the habit of reminding me about it whenever I tend to forget.

Some time ago (maybe 19th century) when the African jungles were still largely unexplored, an English explorer went to Africa for study and exploration work. He hired some locals to do the navigation and carry his gear and together they set out into the jungles. They would stay in tents during the nights and get up at dawn, cut through the bush, clear a path, do exploration, tent down for the night, next day clear some more bush, go forward etc. This went on for a few days until one morning the Englishman discovered that all his guides had gone on strike and had decided not to move from there for a few days. When he asked them the reason, they said "We have been working and moving and rushing on so fast that we feel that we have left our spirits behind. We need to stay in one place and get back into the rhythm of things so that our spirits can catch up with us".

Over the past few weeks I have been feeling the same. So I decided to slow down to let my spirit catch up. After a long time I listened to music, not the usual background music that I listen to while working at home or office. No, I put everything aside and sat down and actually listened to it with my eyes closed and my spirit reveling in it. Once again I felt my spirit being one with it and swaying and dancing to the music. I took time off from work and did nothing, I mean absolutely nothing, just listened to birdsong ringing out through the raag of the raindrops on the roof. I got back to reading and also came up with a great idea for my next pottery project.

Now the challenge is to see that I stay in this natural rhythm of things and not get carried away by the fast tempo of life. All that we desire for is already there within us, so why do we look for gratification outside ourselves. There is music, joy, laughter, compassion, peace, love. All of it Divine.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Chicken Soup for the Soul

Excerpted from "Chicken Soup for the Soul"

THE RULES FOR BEING HUMAN

1. You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it will be yours for the entire period of this time around.

2. You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called Life. Each day in this school you will have the opportunity to learn lessons. You may like the lessons or think them irrelevant and stupid.

3. There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial and error. Experimentation. The “failed” experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiment that ultimately “works”.

4. A lesson is repeated until learned. A lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. When you have learned it, you can then go on to the next lesson.

5. Learning lessons does not end. There is no part of life that does not contain its lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons to be learned.

6. “There” is no better than “here”. When your “there” has become a “here”, you will simply obtain another “there” that will again look better than “here”.

7. Others are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects something you love or hate about yourself.

8. What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need. What you do with them is up to you. The choice is yours.

9. Your answers lie inside you. The answers to Life’s questions lie inside you. All you need to do is look, listen and trust.

10. You will forget all this.

Courtesy - Chicken Soup for the Soul

Saturday, November 11, 2006

A Chance Encounter

It is 8PM and I have just landed at Wellington Airport after a trip to Hamilton. I had asked for a taxi earlier and sure enough there is a man standing there holding a placard with my name on it. He introduces himself as Dean and even before we have reached his taxi he is already asking me where I work and what I do. He says he used to also work in the IT field for many years in the technical and sales side. He was part of the team taking care of www.stuff.co.nz NZ’s third site in terms of traffic and also was instrumental in getting customers for CityLink, Wellington’s high bandwidth network. I look at him in astonishment and almost involuntarily I ask him why he left all that and became a taxi driver. He said he found his previous job too stressful and he had done it too many years and was looking for a change and he was moonlighting anyway with a taxi so he decided to quit his job and buy a taxi and become self-employed. But his long-term goal is to have his own business maybe computer related. So I ask him what is stopping him and he says ‘plain laziness’.

So for the next half hour we talk about computers and life. I find out that he is divorced with two sons and has a girlfriend but no partner because “Marriage is a bad joke”. “Having boys is fun”. He tells me what courses and diplomas he has done and what jobs he has worked in. He asks me when I started with IT and I say “a long time ago I started with DOS”. It is his turn to look astonished, “I can’t believe that”, he says. And I reply “I am older than I look”. I ask him what sort of highs he gets from taxi-driving as compared to the almost daily highs you get in IT and he says “A high would be a drive from the airport to Paraparamu”. It turns out that he knows about Xplorer the GIS website that EGL creates and that he is acquainted with Ewan the guy at the Upper Hutt City Council that I used to liaise with and we both rediscover that it is a small world indeed.

And then there is a lull in the conversation and I am thinking about what he says about being an entrepreneur and suddenly I am almost thinking aloud about my desire to be an entrepreneur and now it is his turn to ask me in what is stopping me. After we have reached the house and I have paid him and we say our polite goodbyes and he adds, “It was a pleasure talking to you” and somehow for once it seems sincere and not a formality and I am about to say the same thing back but something stops me, maybe the feeling that I might not be able to match his sincerity. And he says "Who knows we might meet again", and I say "Yes, who knows, it is after all a small world". And later on I am thinking how we could talk so freely about things that mean so much to us to a perfect stranger like we were friends going on a drive and not a taxi-driver and his customer. Maybe it is God’s way of reminding me that I have a dream to fulfill and that He can came in any form to remind us of life's lessons.

Mosaic

The aircraft taking us from Hamilton to Wellington is a small one, a 33-seater (I counted) and I exchange seats with my boss to get the window seat. We take off at 7 PM and the sun is still high on the horizon. The plane is flying low so the landscape is still visible. What I see below me is simply breathtaking. A mosaic of green fields which stretch on and on into the horizon, interspersed with pools of water, undulating lines of trees, mounds of little hillocks and scattered all over black and white specks of cows and creams dots of sheep. The clouds have cast a dark shadow which moves as the clouds glide by and then the plane hits a cloud bank. We plough through tufts of soft, cottony, innocent looking clouds, but the plane thinks otherwise because it starts an instant fight and shakes in consternation. But soon the fight is over and we sail clear of the clouds. The landscape below is now bathed in evening sunlight and the grass glows emerald green in the light, trees casting long dark shadows, and the sunlight gleaming off red roofs in tiny hamlets and glinting off windows and lighting up the bodies of little rivulets and ponds.

Then the pilot decided it is time to climb even higher and very soon we are flying over this bank of cumulus, calm and steady and I can’t help thinking that this is how Jonathan Livingston Seagull must have felt when he flew high over the clouds, breaking free of the limits he had hindered himself with, breaking free of accepted convention, daring to live his life and more importantly daring to live his dream. And from up there the cares and troubles of my life seem so insignificant, so puny so as to be totally wiped out. And I realize that if I remain aloft and apart from the drama of my life whose script I have myself written, I can always be in this space of calm and serenity.

And soon we are flying over the Tararuas which is still snow-capped and the windmills over the Manawatu range, until I see the graceful arc of a long river which I discover with joy is our very own Hutt River flowing through Upper Hutt. And there is Stokes Valley right below nestling placidly among hills darkening in the gathering dusk. The road to Wainuomata snaking over the Eastern Hills and the surf gently caressing the sands of the Eastbourne bays. And as the plane turns towards the airport the sun is low over the horizon, almost sinking into the sea, blazing this shimmering, golden path on the water, almost beckoning me to take it. And the land’s end at Happy Valley and the runway comes up to meet us.

Waikato and thereabouts

Day 1 :

My trip to the Waikato University was fascinating. Great campus, spread out among rolling lawns, little lakes, hostel units. This is the only univ here with a Centre for the Performing Arts. We went inside and had a look at the theatres and green rooms. There is one outdoor performance area which is a circular area just by the side of the lake with long steps where the audience can sit. Great setting. If I was close enough I would have come for performances. We had breakfast at an old train station that got converted into a café and lunch at another nice place.

We drove to the Springhill Prison in the afternoon which is still under construction and is also quite big. All very flash. This one is going to have Plasma TV in the recreation areas for the inmates and under-floor heating, because the inmates are vandalising the heaters and it is more cost-effective to have under floor heating. The taxpayers are not too happy. The drive to the hotel was good. It rained for some time, but it was a strange experience. It would rain heavily to near zero-visibility, then taper off, then clear dry roads and sunshine and blue sky, then rain again, then sun again. It seemed like the rain clouds were chasing the car. Finally the rain clouds settled over us and we had rain for the rest of the evening. It was very enjoyable.

Day 2 :

It is beautiful in Waikeria. The Waikeria prison is spread over an area of 500 acres (I think) and the buildings are all spread out with barbed wire fences for each. The rest of the land is pasture with cows and sheep (around 3000 heads of cattle). Some of the inmates work on the farms. We passed by vans with inmates in them going to work. A lot of maize is being grown on farms which is then fed to the cows. There is also a water treatment plant which treats water from the local river for drinking. And the sewer treatment plant treats waste before it is released into the waste water system. There used to be vegetable farms and fruit orchards and nurseries which has now been closed down. But the National govt decided to close them since they were not profit making units. There is a minimum security unit with no barbed wire fence, but with a library and classrooms for inmates wanting to learn. I was driven around the grounds and buildings but did not get into the actual buildings.

It is a beautiful day and the office looks out to green grass and trees and a vast expanse of blue sky. It feels more like I am on holiday than at work. I try to focus on the screen but the landscape keeps calling out to me. We finish at four and take the car back to Hamilton to catch the flight back. It is a beautiful drive, sunny and calm and the pastures laid out on both sides.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Plant your own garden

Author unknown

After a while you learn the subtle difference,
Between holding a hand and
Chaining a soul.

You learn that love
Doesn't mean leaning and
Company doesn't mean security.

You begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts and
Presents aren't promises.

You begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of an adult,
Not the grief of a child.

You learn to build
All your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground
Is too uncertain for plans.

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns
If you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and
Decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers.

You learn that you really can endure.
That you really are strong.
You really do have worth.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

I bow to Thee, oh Lord

Like a blossoming flower
my spirit opens at your touch Oh Lord,
Soft-footed we walk
through all your creation
forests, valleys, oceans.
Your breath gentle in the wind
Your voice crashing in the waterfall
Your touch the brush of the butterfly wing
The folds of a tree your comforting arms.
Every sunrise your smile
and every sunset your promise.
A child's hand in my hand your trust.

I bow to Thee, oh Lord
Your spirit one with mine.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Fine poetic wine

Reading great poetry is so much like enjoying fine wine, you read each word slowly, turn the liquid around in your mouth, savour the pauses, the aroma, fine-tune into the nuances, let it gently down the throat, let it seep into you. And then after a while you read it again like having a second glass, and then you catch hidden nuances that you missed before, as it slowly reveals its secrets to you. It somehow tastes different on your tongue, beats a softer beat on your heart. And for a long time you sit in the afterglow, feeling warm inside, enthralled by the beauty, oblivious to everything else.

Bookends

The blinking cursor does beckon,
But the keyboard, does it reckon ?
Reams of words unspoken,
Pathways of thoughts untrodden.

And so in silence I wait, for silence
To break its numbing silence.
And then comes a feeling,
Tender, soft-footed and fleeting...

But my heart, the mendicant lonely
With bowl in hand, broken and lowly,
Waits for a crumb from you, a glance
This silence with which to lance.

And still the cursor waits apace,
‘Tween heart and keys there is many a space,
And thus remain my words unsaid,
My tears of joy wholly unshed...

Monday, October 09, 2006

Hope and renewal

Autumn drops a leaf on me,
russet brown and brittle.
It feels like an old dream.

“I shed old leaves, old things”, she says,
“and in nakedness Nature
bares her heart to the winter sun.”

But I, mesmerized by its vivid colours
hold on to this dead, decaying leaf.

Then Spring springs a leaf on me,
russet brown and tender.
It feels like a newborn baby.

“I bring new life, new growth”, she says,
“and in riotous colours Nature
offers it beauty to the summer sun.”

And thus I find the wisdom to let go…
…of old pain, old memories, old hopes.

Tiger Lily and I

Returning home from pottery it is 9PM and I sit in the car for a while in the dark. The sky is dotted with stars and the full moon has not yet risen. Soon, Tiger Lily, our neighbour’s cat jumps on the hood not knowing that I am still in the car (so much for cat vision). Even though her tummy is full with cat food, she still prowls like a cat on a hunt, ears erect, alert to the slightest sound and movement. I have this desire to go out and stroke her fur but I know that on my slightest movement she will disappear. So we sit in silent company waiting for the moon to rise.

I watch her movements as she relaxes and stretches and I send out mental strokes. I am aware of the seconds ticking by and I realize that Tiger Lily is oblivious of the passing moments. So are the trees, the grass, the clouds, the stars…. Each and every one of them (except man) exists outside time, they are just being themselves every moment, all the time. There is no conflict, no tension, no past regrets, no future anticipation, no “what if”, no “if only”. There is only living in the present moment. Just the silent knowledge that God is always there underlying everything. Somehow the thought is strengthening and brings peace.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

The amazing Constable

I went to see the John Constable exhibition on tour here at Te Papa on Saturday. What I saw was simply breathtaking. I could have spent the whole day there looking at the paintings again and again. Constable was the son of a prosperous miller and spent a long period of his life around the place he grew up in and painted the scenes of his everyday life with such clarity and such beauty. He evidently loved the place and the love comes through in his paintings. His paintings have a three-dimensional quality and standing in front of them makes you feel like you are actually there watching the scene through the painter's eyes. You are transported back to the place and time almost two centuries ago looking at pastoral scenes or ships in the harbour or London in the distance, thinking 'this is how it was, this is how the painter saw it'. And any moment you expect the leaves to move or the water to start flowing, such is the dynamism in the paintings. Truly a memorable experience.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Us luminous beings

I believe that we are like the sun, glorious, luminious beings, lit from within with the light of love. But we go through life with our doors closed, our faces lit up with artificial, flourescent smiles and 100-watt laughter. And then someone comes along whose soul connects to our soul and we throw open our doors and windows and our light shines forth and we reveal our true, loving self. And we revel in their presence and can be totally ourselves and we say we are transformed by love. But is it really a transformation, isn't it just an uncovering? The uncovering of our true self.

The same thing happens when we are in the presence of beauty, a beautiful sunrise, the cadences of birdsong, lilting music, great works of art, the innocence of children, the beauty within us responds to the beauty without and we realise our beautiful selves.

So then, why do we let fear close our doors, force ourselves to wear masks, shutting out our light, blind to the light in others? It would be so wonderful if we lived believing that we are creatures of light, capable of great loving, aware of our infiniteness, in touch with our divinity. We would truly be divine.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

My heart is a shrine

My heart is a shrine, it seems,
loves come and go like pilgrims.

Some come seeking solace,
some to unlock the joy in their hearts.

And yet others come with footsteps heavy with sorrow,
and I wait for them to undam their pain.

Until release comes in torrent upon stormy torrent,
all pain washed clean by blessed tears.

And yet what can I give,
but the God that is within me?

This lamp of love you have lit with your hands, Oh Lord,
and sheltered it from innumerable storms.

My song of praise is my only offering,
and my heart lifted up in gratitude.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Wealth

A long time ago I came across a Sanskit verse which goes "Artham anartham bhavaya" which loosely translated means "Regard wealth as filth". "What a wise saying" I thought and proceeded to do just that. So all these years I have had a mild dislike towards wealth aided by the observation that wealth can buy comforts and luxuries but cannot bring happiness. I have never been rich in my life, richness of course being a relative term, but when I look back I realise that all my needs have always been met, my desires for the simple things in life have been fulfilled.

I have come to realise that it is more important to have a sense of abundance, of being rich in spirit, in generosity, in the spirit of giving whether of your possessions or of yourself. When I put a smile on someone's face, I feel rich. Like Martin Luther King Jr said 'Wealth is the least of God's blessings'. So everyday I thank God for the wealth of blessings that he has showered over me, all the love, the grace, the kindnesses, the joy, the abundance. Wealth somehow takes care of itself without my having to bother much about it. There is just the faith that God will provide.

But I no longer regard wealth as filth. I have realised that wealth has its uses, like helping someone short of cash with money required for surgery, like putting a poor child through school, like buying a book which can enrich you with knowledge, like buying a plane ticket to see a dying parent whose sole remaining wish is to see you. I guess the intent of the Sanskrit verse was to point out that one should remain detached from wealth, to not develop greed, to not allow it to stick to our senses as one would not allow filth to stick.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Take me in Your arms

Take me in your arms, Oh Lord.

Take me with You in the wind that brings the scent of faraway lands, of approaching rain,
the formless wind with footprints on surfaces of lakes.

Take me with You in the rain that pours down on the parched earth, evoking perfume scented song and causing the seeds to burst forth into life.

Take me with You in the sea that watery, salty cauldron with its constant ebb and flow and pulled by the moon and yet knows the secrets of all mankind.

Take me with You in the sap that rises up in trees and bursts into leaf and bud and branches in which birds come and nest and raise their young.

Take me with You in the songs of the fields, in the dust of farmers' hands, in the celebration of harvests and the warm glow of harvested grain.

Take me with You in the sunshine that glows on the faces of children at play adding sparkle to their eyes and music to their laughter.

Take me with You in the joys and sorrows of the human heart, in love that rends the heart and pain that kills softly, unknowingly.

Take me with You in the silences that dwell in the depth of forests and the eyelids of sleeping babies secure in their mothers' arms.

Take me in Your arms, Oh Lord, fill me with Your love, let me lose myself and merge with You in never ending ecstasy.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

I see you, Oh Lord

I see You, Oh Lord, in the quiet whispers of gently falling autumn leaves.

I see You when my upward glance is arrested by the sight of rosy clouds nestling among evening hils.

I see You in the rise and fall of seagull wings, the orange beak and feet bright against the snowy white.

I see You in the rising pathos of the melancholy violin in Mozart's music, weeping with heartache.

I see You in the colours of the paua, blues, greens and aqua, as if the sea was not content to lie in the ocean but wanted to come live with us.

I see You in the hush of the darkened theatre, lights going out, my heart in thrall with others' lives, mesmerised by the magic of illusion.

I see You in the eyes of loved ones, their smiles bright with affection, compassion and so much caring, it breaks my heart.

I see You in the fire of my heartbeat, the sparkle of my eyes, the cadences of my laughter, in tears brought on by ghazals.

I see You, Oh Lord, in the deep silences of my soul.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Soul consciousness

The other day while reading someone else's blog I came across a reference to the Aasthavakra Geeta. I googled it and found the most extraordinarily enlightening dialogue between Sage Aasthavakra and King Janaka. I read only a few lines but musing over them led to the realisation that I should relinquish my need for acknowledgement, encouragement, appreciation and even love. For the soul is above these ego needs, it exists in perfect equilibrium and bliss and already knows everything. It is the ego that feels disappointed, disheartened, unloved. The soul is love and knows only love, how can it be unloved? However, it requires great vigilance to be aware of oneself as the soul, for the mind is forever trying to engage in activity that keeps us identified with the ego, to pull us back to the world of the senses. Let go of the ego, become aware of the mind, of the games it is trying to play and the emotions, the slave of the mind. Awareness leads to consciousness of the Self which then leads to the Divine - perfect peace and perfect love.

You do not consist of any of the elements -- earth, water, fire, air, or even ether. To be liberated, know yourself as consisting of consciousness, the witness of these. 1.3

Monday, August 28, 2006

Perspective

The importance of perspective was once again brought home to me today in a dramatic manner. But let me go back a little. Some time back I read a story in the Readers' Digest in which the author narrates an incident that happened to him. He was travelling by train in the city and when the train stopped at a station a man and his three young kids got in. The father sat next to the author and the kids in different seats. After the train started again the kids started moving around and generally making a nuisance of themselves, people started frowning and casting disapproving looks at the father. The author too sat there and wondered why the father was not making any attempts to subdue his children and was thinking all manner of unkind thoughts about the family. Finally he turned to him and gently pointed out that his children needed a bit of control. Upon which the young man replied 'We are just coming from the hospital where their mother died of cancer and they don't know what to do with themselves, actually even I don't know what to do with myself'. Instant transformation in perspective.

I have a colleague called Mark who sits a few meters away from me and sometime last week he came for a discussion with my neighbouring workmates. Every one else spoke softly but Mark has a loud voice and since the discussion was long I started getting disturbed by the loudness of his voice. I even considered going up to him and asking him to keep his voice low. Fortunately, I didn't. Today I had the ask Mark something and when he was passing my my table, I called out to him and asked him if he got the emails that I had sent. He couldn't catch what I was saying and I thought he couldn't understand my accent. So I repeated my question in the same tone but a bit slowly, he still couldn't catch it and came closer and said that I will have to speak up a bit since I had a soft voice. So I repeated my question this time in a louder voice. He came even closer and turned his ear towards me and for the first time I noticed that he was wearing a hearing aid. Light bulb moment. Aahh ! So that he why he was speaking loudly the other day, almost all people with hearing problems tend to raise their voice. I must say my attitude towards Mark changed dramatically.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Soul song

When you knock on the door of my heart, Oh Lord,
how can I help but open?

My spirit sheds body and mind,
takes flight like a golden eagle.

Through tunnels of light,
blazing with the light of a million suns.

Joy unbound, sparkling,
bursts forth in explosions of laughter.

Love blossoms like a rare flower,
my spirit drunk with the heady perfume.

And then there is only peace,
and the ineffable sweetness of Your presence.

The Desert Moon

I stand under the desert moon;
among the shifting sands of emotions,
the constantly changing landscape.

Why do the stars burn so brightly?
why does the laughing moon fail
to light up my barren, desolate heartscape.

All those footprints on my heart,
those familiar, well-trodden bridges,
washed away by the deluge of unshed tears.

Love is a mirage, a chimera,
an oasis never to be found,
thus whisper the desert winds.

Monday, August 21, 2006

The thorn

I unplucked my desires
like one would petals off flowers,
forming a satiny heap
around my feet.
And then a rogue wind
lifted them up and
carried them to faraway lands.
Ans so it came about
that strangers spoke
the language of my dreams.
But still one remained -
a thorn in my heart.
And yet I hope
that a flower will bloom
in its place
someday.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Our dear Mother

Look at the Earth, inner core boiling furiously and as you go outwards the layers cooling to which a geologist would most certainly give names, until you reach the crust. That which we lovingly call Mother Earth. You touch it and it is moist and warm, almost as if it is a living, breathing being. And grass growing out of it and trees, and earthworm homes, and valleys formed and mountains and sand dunes. And inspiring of so much awe and almost worthy of worship. It is no wonder that people bend down and kiss the Earth, our dear Mother.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Train tales

Today was the first day at my new job and after a long time I was taking the train again. The ride into Wellington is indeed marvellous. This being the only city I have visited where the hills lie on one side of the tracks (and road) and the sea on the other. This juxtapostion of the green and the blue really blew my mind when I saw it for the first time. And there is this stretch of rail where the tracks run so close to the sea that when you look out of the window it appears as if you are in a boat because the land is hardly visible and all you can see is the sea.

So coming back to today, sitting in the train hearing the clackity-clack of the wheels again sends shivers up my spine and the air laden with moisture and the grass so lush everywhere and all manner of verdant growth takes me back to the train rides in the monsoons through the lush landscape of Kerala. I could almost envisage smoke curling up through coconut fronds. And passing green-carpeted soccer fields, and rain-washed driveways and the Hutt river, placid no more, but tanned and full-bodied like a Malayalee damsel. Rushing past wind-swept stations until the train stops at mine.

Yes, train rides are food for the heart for romantics like me ;-)

Monday, August 07, 2006

Unlimited potential

5th August 2006

Today as I was meditating I found suddenly that the feeling of 'I' had disappeared along with all self-identity and I realised that there is no me, just the Divine realising Itself, being Itself. And strangely enough it was a very humbling experience. Because the ego had disappeared, as also the mind and the emotions, just an awareness remained. And the feeling of slight pain in my shoulder and the body touching the ground. There was no joy nor pain, no want, no desire, no bliss or sorrow, just nothingness.

Afterwards when I came out of meditation I had the feeling that nothing mattered anymore, all the mundane concerns of daily life had disappeared. Just the feeling that everything had been taken care of. And the Divine which is not the narrow false self has the power to create anything It wanted to. And then it occured to me that if the entity which is called 'me' is the Divine expressing Itself then how can 'I' entertain the idea of being limited by anything. Because the Divine is limitless and has the endless potential to create anything and be anything.

The Huka Jet experience



The Huka Falls never fails to hold me in awe. Even though I have seen it many times before. The tons of clear blue water that hurtles down the narrow gorge in a deafening uproar is Nature at its most majestic. So I decided to have a closer look at the Waikato River on which the falls are situated. What better way than to take a ride in the Huka Jet?

So here I am in the front seat all belted up and reinforced against the spray. I am sitting next to a man who is part of a group all speaking a strange language, so I ask him where he is from. It turns out that they are originally from Holland, moved to Spain, but now living in New Zealand for the past twenty years. I am about to ask if the language they are speaking is Dutch or Spanish, when we are interrupted by the arrival of another group who turns out to be from Korea. Then the driver jumps in and I say to my neighbour "He must be the only Kiwi in the group".

So off we go, whizzing over the water, setting it on fire, the ducks ducking for cover, the black swans placidly looking for food, their necks undulating gracefully. Past cliff faces, past the hillside covered in tropical ferns, the boat veering dangerously, doing 360 degree spins, spraying us all with water, the wind rushing past my ears, my cheeks, the water and wind in a frenzy. And I have the feeling that I am airborne, flying over the river towards Huka Falls. And the falls in the distance, gushing blue and we are at the foot amidst the boiling, gurgling water.

The jetboat ride that took my breath away with its sheer audacity, its dizzying spins and the breathtaking beauty.

The power of dreams

I was driving back from the Huka Jet towards Taupo town when I saw a sign saying 'NZ woodcraft and ceramics'. On an impulse I took the detour and went into the shop. Inside were a great many fine woodturned bowls and other items in kauri and rimu and other types of wood. The grain in the wood had created unique patterns in them so that each one of them was a unique piece, with its own stamp and its own signature.

Halfway through I saw a sign that said that Chris was selling his business and tools etc. On the way out I walked over to the man at the counter and asked him, "Are you Chris?", "Yes", "Are you selling your business?", "Yes", "Why?" "Because I have been doing it for the past 20 years and now I want to fly planes instead". Mind you, Chris looked like he was in the early fifties, so rather doubtfully I asked "Oh, you want to become a pilot?", "Yes, I have been training to fly for the last four years", "And fly commercial flights?" "No, I am too old for that, but I would like to fly planes that are used for top-dressing", "What is that?", "Planes that spray fertiliser on fields", "Then what about woodturning, are you going to give it up? This is such a major switch, are you going to give up your passion?". "Yes, it is a major switch, that is why I have been training to fly. But woodturning is not my passion, now it is just a job that has to be done, even though it began as a passion. Now flying is my passion. I took my first flight when I was five and decided then that I would fly someday even though it took me 55 years to fulfill my dream".

I was so impressed and moved with this that I asked to take his photograph in front of the pictures of the planes that he had up put up. He kindly obliged.

It is never too late to realise your dreams, so what if you are only a few steps away from the grave. It is just that you should never let go of them. Chris is such a Godsend.


Chris

The great escape

I had an interesting experience at the motel in Waihi on Friday night. I had just finished my shower and was about to come out of the bathroom when I realised that the door had no handle to turn the lock just a hole where the handle used to be . So here I was effectively locked in and stranded. My first thought was to open the window, climb out and go for help. So I climb on top of the wash basin, open the window and peer into the darkness. Unfortumnaely it is so dark outside that I cannot see the ground and I decide that the drop is too high and if I break my leg in the jump, I will not be able to drive back home.

I have a couple of hair-clips in my hair so I decide to fiddle with the lock. Many attempts later the lock is still firmly in place when I hear a car starting up. I climb the basin again and wave frantically also yelling 'Help!'. The car vanishes into the night in total oblivion. Then panic strikes. 'Oh God, I am going to spend the night here and tomorrow night until they come looking for me on Sunday. Help me God!' I beg. Then my mind clears and I think, this is an adventure and I am in control and surely there must be way out. So I fiddle with the lock some more until I come to the realisation that unless I am a master locksmith or an expert burglar, I am not going to find the lever in the lock with a hairclip. So I go back to the window and look out until my eyes get accustomed to the darkness and I find that the ground is not so low after all. The next thing I know I am climbing through the window and jumping out and walking to Reception.

There is always a first time to do something. My first window escape was very exciting and most illuminating.

Postscript : I must say reading all those spy novels helped :-)

The living air

There is something akin to meditation about driving alone on long journeys. After a while it feels as if the car is an extension of your body, the smooth road is flowing from the car and the grassy slopes are part of the road. The mountains a continuation of the slopes which in turn run into the sky with its clouds which merge with the midday sun and the unseen stars until your consciousnes expands to fill the universe.

By the lake, alone

My trip to Lake Taupo was simply fantastic. I stayed in a place called Little Waihi on the south side of the lake. Lake Taupo is a huge volcanic crater filled with water. You almost can't see the other side, it looks more like a sea. I got a motel room by the lake side and on Friday I just sat and watched the lake, read a bit, contemplated a bit. Due to the thermal activity in the area, there was steam coming out of the edge of the lake so that it looked as if the lake was boiling. There were ducks and a pair of beautiful black swans with red beaks. It was so peaceful, so serene. It was truly an unwinding.

On Saturday, I drove to the township of Taupo, 40 minutes away and went to Huka Falls again. Every time I see it it takes my breath away. All those tonnes of water gushing down the narrow gorge, and the water so clear, it is blue. The sound simply magical, roaring and gushing as if Nature is wishing to express herself. And when it reaches the wider part, the water just boils with the force, blue circles erupting in white spray. This time I decided to take the Huka Jet, a jetboat ride that travels up the Waikato River, making spins and whizzing past cliff faces on its way to the foot of the Huka Falls. It was simply beautiful.

The two other things I wanted to do, I couldn't because - whitewater rafting was closed for the winter and skydiving wasn't happening because it was too cloudy to skydive. Maybe next time.

It rained the whole of Saturday night and when I left the motel on Sunday morning it was still raining. I had planned to go to Mt.Raupehu on the way back but the rain had made visibility so bad that I couldn't even see the mountain on the drive back which is usually very clearly visible. But the drive was beautiful. The rain creating this constant raaga on the roof, sometimes thumri, sometimes dhrupad. And the air all misty and washed clean and pure, the raindrops forming ripples on little ponds. The grass so green stretching from the side of the road up into the hills, over slopes and dunes and valleys. The little streams flowing muddily and happily. And the leaves glistening with rain, little drops forming on the tips. And pastures polka-dotted with sheep and cows and horses. And the clouds clinging to the foothills rising as if aspiring for the sky. The countryside so beautiful and so verdant.

Yes, it was truly a memorable trip.

Photos at http://community.webshots.com/user/jollyjm

Thursday, August 03, 2006

The Elvis experience


The show Elvis Viva Las Vegas was wonderful. Grant Sullivan looked like Elvis (maybe a tad shorter), had a voice like Elvis and sang like Elvis. The only disappointment was that he didn't rock'n roll like Elvis. There is something electrifying in watching a live performance. The drums beats coming up through the floors and reverberating in the chest region, the energy of the music, the singer, the dancers, the guitarist pulsating through the air, wrapping around you and making your feet tap, your hands clap and your heart racing with excitement.

He sang the popular numbers and the old ones and when the curtain fell, he had not sung my favourite song which I had been praying he would sing. Miraculously the curtain lifted again and he said 'I forgot to sing the last number' and to my heart's delight he belted out 'The wonder of you'. Truly magical.

Note to myself : Must go for live shows more often and must get up and boogie.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Silence

Sometimes I sit and watch people talking, saying words that mean nothing and I wonder "Why do people talk so much, is it to fill the empty spaces in the hours, is it to fill the empty spaces in their hearts". Reams and reams of speech laced with loneliness, covertly seeking approval, seeking love. Words that create a patina of comfort that if withdrawn will leave them cold and disconsolate. And my silence, is it conceit, is it arrogance, or is it the silent pool in which I can see reflected my own fears and doubts?

Friday, July 21, 2006

Karma Yoga

What is Karma Yoga? A yoga attained through selfless service, renouncing the fruits of one’s action, and performing actions with pure intention, devoid of selfish motive. To uplift the lives of others!

But how many of us walk on the path of Karma Yoga with no thought of reward? Some people crave recognition, some hope that the people they are helping will help them back. Some have some other motive. I feel that karma yoga can be practiced in every thing you do, every little action, every small deed. Even if it washing the dishes or mowing the lawn or writing a letter. If all these actions are done with love, so the simple pleasure of doing for doing sake or with the thought that God is in everything and the doing is a kind of worship towards God, then you will be walking the path of Karma Yoga all the time. Take the simple act of smiling at someone. Many times we smile by just moving our lips, how often does the smile reach our eyes? How often does our smile come out of our hearts and touch the other person’s heart? How often does our smile carry blessing?

If we are in touch with the wellspring of love within us all the time then everything we do will be an act of love, we will be touch with the Divine all the time, we will be Karma Yogis always.

Monday, July 17, 2006

The light within

This morning while I was meditating I felt I was being surrounded by so much love, wave upon wave of love. This love slowly reached into me until I felt a radiance within me and I suddenly realised that there was this beauty shining within me. Simple and breathtaking. And I was thinking all those people who said that they can see inner beauty within me were not wrong after all. Breakthrough moment.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Intimations of Immortality

Excerpts from 'Intimations of Immortality' by William Wordsworth

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting
The soul that rises with us, our life's star
Hath had elsewhere its setting
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forget fullness,
And not in utter nakedness
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God who is our home.


And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky and the mind of Man
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thoughts
And rolls through all things.

The special cracker

Written after the Delhi bomb blast in a marketplace last Diwali.
 
I got a special cracker
this Festival of Lights.
It was such fun when
my mother and I went shopping,
we bought clothes, sweets, diyas
and of course crackers.
I finally managed to persuade her to buy
the special cracker that
she has been saying I was too small for.
I could imagine myself setting off the rocket
and standing back and watching
as it took off and exploded with a loud pop
and then blossomed into
tiny pinpricks of light.
And sure enough, just then
there was a loud explosion
and a blaze of light.
My mother was thrown against me,
I hit the ground
and then nothing but blackness.

I am in hospital now,
there are tubes in my arms, nose and mouth.
My father fusses over me
with a sad expression.
Sometimes when I wake up from a doze,
I see him softly sobbing into his hands.
I want to reach up and stroke his head
like he used to when i cried,
but it hurts too much to move.
Maybe mother would do it if she was here,
but why isn't she coming?

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Wherefore dreams ?

Why do we see total strangers in our dreams? Are they people who crossed our lives and evoked in us strong feelings of affection or fear or disdain? And then we somehow forgot about them.

Why do we dream of strange situations? Are they our secret desires surfacing, our suppressed fears, our hidden fantasies?

What messages are they trying to tell us? Or are we just housecleaning? Are dreams messengers from our subconscious mind or a subconscious vacuum cleaner?

Monday, July 10, 2006

Being

Today I had the realisation that there is no me only the Divine which wishes to express itself through this body, mind, emotions and the soul which is the means of experiencing the Divine. There is not ego, no success nor failure, no pain nor pleasure, just infiniteness, lightness, oneness. There is just bliss.

I realized the meaning of the Biblical words “In Him I live and move and have my Being”

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

I dreamt of you

I dreamt of you last night -
we met in a public place,
you looked younger,
like when i saw you last,
you looked straight into my eyes
and spoke with such simplicity.
We must have spoken for a long time,
then with some urgency you said,
"I have to go now"
and then you left.
It felt as if someone
had turned off the sun.
I then walked through the streets
looking for your face
among the faces of strangers.
I woke up soon after
with a sweet anticipation.
But the birdsong seemed sad somehow.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

All I know

It matters not at which spring you fill your cup;
All I know is that my love for you,
is like the ecstatic merging of the river and the sea.

It matters not whose flowers scent yur breath;
All I know is that when I think of you,
Love unfolds like a flower and enfolds me in its fragrance.

It matters now which sand fills the hourglass of your time;
All I know is that when I look into your eyes,
time stands still and I gaze into eternity.

It matters not which wind blows through the crevices of your heart;
All I know is that when I kiss your forehead,
it is the softest, tenderest thing I have ever done.

It matters not where you spend your days and nights;
All I know is that when you take me in your arms,
I have reached a place called home.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Surrender

Drop you fears, your turmoil
into the lake of my heart,
let's sit on the shore together
and watch the waves grow still.

Drop your silences gently
into the open spaces of my heart,
let them dance and twirl
into melody ineffable.

Drop your dreams softly
into the laughing, liquid void,
let's watch them come true
in starlit splendour.

Drop your joy, your bliss
into the hard shell of my pain,
let's merge and become one
in loving, painful tenderness.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

The Dancing Moonlight

I had a dream last night. It is nighttime. I am standing in the balcony of a flat in Bombay. On the first floor. The road below is clearly visible. But strangely the road is flooded with knee-deep water. The night is dark but the moon is full. Pouring moonlight onto everything. The buildings around eerily awash in moonlight and the people standing in the balconies white sprites. On the road below a strange spectacle unfolding. People standing in a line in the moonlit water passing a metal wire gleaming silver in the moonlight. This wire sliding like a snake from end to end and back again. The moving people create ripples and the moonlight dancing on the waves. In the background a flute plays the most enchanting, mesmerizing tune. It is truly magical. The dancing moonlight, the silver wire, the silent people, the lonely flute. I wake up with the flute still hauntingly clear in my memory.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Grace

Every morning when I drive through the hills I thank God for bringing me here. The hills look different everyday, either the light quality is different, or it has rained or the mist is sitting at the foothills and I am driving through clouds. The sheep and cows grazing and the horses tossing their manes is such a beautiful sight. So today instead of just thanking Him I decided to make a list. The drive is usually smooth, I drive at 100K throughout and have to slow down only if there is traffic. I thanked Him for the smooth roads, the condition of the car, for the feeling of flight I have when the car goes smoothly downhill, the sudden turns and the breathtaking beauty each bend brings. I thanked Him for the freshness of the air and the clean water. I thanked Him for little things, if I get into a bus I will most likely get a seat, and a train too. A train ride to Wellington ensures some great landscape watching. I thanked Him for the ease with which affairs can be conducted here, u don’t have to watch your back all the time. I thanked Him for friends who always come to help and for the opportunities He provided for helping them too, for there is grace in receiving too. I thanked Him for my job and that I have one and for the support my workmates provide. By this time I had reached office so I had to stop but I could have gone on and on. But it was great to start the day in such a state of gratefulness and grace, that a smile comes easily to the lips.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Dark, mysterious night

Last night I was driving home in the dark, in the warm cocoon of the car, the darkness soft and enveloping, the streetlights throwing harsh puddles of light. I could feel the presence of the river flowing besides, dark-bodied and mysterious. The roads though familiar felt like they carried a secret and beckoned me to find out. Houses looked warm and comforting. I felt like driving on and on through the delectable, mysterious night.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Helen Keller

One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.

- Helen Keller

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Silver night

I sit on a still night under the eucalyptus tree looking up at the sky through its branches. Stars beckon. Furry clouds are spread across the sky and the thin sliver of the moon fails to knife through them. Leaves rustle softly and insects make little chirping noises. A bird lulled to sleep by the murmuring brook wakes up and warbles its appreciation. A soft darkness gathers but the grass is still eerily lit by the cloudlight. The silence is silvery and the peace is deep.

Don't lose yourself

Sometimes it so happens that some thing posesses us completely, it could be a person, a career, an activity, so much so that we derive our sense of ourself from that thing. And when that external stimulus is withdrawn, our sense of self is fractured, broken. Always remember that we are whole and complete in ourselves. So don't lose yourself in something external to you.

Monday, May 01, 2006

The blossoming spirit

This morning after getting up I decided to meditate for a while. While meditating I had this feeling that I sometimes get that I am in the prescence of God. My spirit just blossomed and I felt like I was surrounded by this overwhelming love and a corresponding love rose within me. I kept feeling 'I love you God' and I was so happy I started crying just like in the poem. Then I said 'Can I kiss you God?' And she said, 'You will have to kiss the whole universe of just kiss something that is nearby, for I am in everything". There was such beauty and such peace. I felt like the Seagul felt when it has risen over all the clouds and looked down at the others huddled against the rain. All my pain, envy, desires just vanished. It was such an incredibly blissful experience. It is hard to describe. I felt my clarity returning and felt centered again.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Moonlight thoughts

Someone asks me "What did you do yesterday?" And I say "Ask not what I did, ask what I experienced." I might have done a lot of things and experienced very little, but I might have done very little but experienced a lot. Like a few moments ago, standing outside and watching the full moon glide effortlessly through the clouds, I experience peace, joy and the feeling that all is well and everything will turn out right. My spirit responds to the call of nature and I feel one with it.

mujhe le chal kaheen

tu bin bataye mujhe le chal kaheen
jahan tu muskuraye meri manzil wahin

meethi lagi, chakh ke dekhi abhi
mishri ki dali, zindagi ho chali
jahan hain teri baahein mera sahil wahin

mann ki gali tu phuharoon si aa
bheeg jaye mere khwabon ka kafila
jise tu gungunaye meri dhun hai wahin

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Seashells

I collect moments like a child collects shells on the seashore.

Some of them many hue-ed and many-splendoured.
Sparkling with laughter, ribbed with love.

Some brown and heavy, sand-filled with tedium.


And yet others bleached white
with searing, arcing pain,
all colour wiped clean by misery.

And then the bits of shells,
broken moments that fell off before completion.

I collect moments like a child collects shells on the seashore
and weave them into the tapestry of life.

Monday, April 10, 2006

A special friend

That certain special way of yours
the thoughtful things you do
the way that I can be myself
whenever I am with you
these make you a special friend
i can't begin to say
how much I wish you happiness
today and everyday

(this poem was on a card I received on my birthday)


Saturday, April 08, 2006

Rainsong

I hugged my pain again.
Again and again.
It threatened to break out
like raindrops in a rain cloud.
On the verge of the monsoon.
Finally it broke free.
In torrents.
Wave upon wave.
And yet the Earth broke out in laughter.
In perfume-scented song.
The air washed clean of the dust of the past.
Calm now and stillness.
And into this blessed silence,
the song-bird dropped note upon golden note,
of joy. Of hope, of gratefulness.
How odd that pain and joy always walk hand in hand.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

The beginning

In the beginning was only the breath,
nascent, tremulous,
uncertain of its own power.
It blew a little, a leaf stirred,
it drew back surprised at its own strength.
"Let me try again".
Blew long and hard this time.
A branch shook.
Shock, hint of a smile.
"Maybe I can do it".
Maybe not.
Maybe, yes, just maybe...

A deep breath, long shuddering gust.
The tree waved its arms
and then its neighbour did
and then the next one.
Deep breaths,
gathering strength and storm.
Soon the whole forest is in frenzy.
The breath rises high above,
glee, elation, confidence,
points its finger at the sky.
Lightening scisorrs the heavens,
thunder claps its appreciation.
Yes, there is lightening in us,
and thunder,
and we possess
the strength to move mountains.