Pleasure puts you to sleep and pain wakes you up,
if you don't want to suffer, don't go to sleep.
- Nisargadutta
I absolutely loooooooooooooooovvvvvvve this :))))))))
Today
4 years ago
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Listening
"In the linear reality many aspire to be proactive in their participation. They gallantly display their energy to anyone who may be near. Seeking the connection to their existence they often speak of the connection of mind, body, and spirit.
It is a habit of those embodied to speak more than they listen. The resonating tenor of their voice makes them feel productive and vital in the physical environment. It is happening everywhere one looks.... a lot of talkers but very few listeners.
We are sure that the many who have much to say are lacking when it comes to hearing the whispers of their own souls. An unfortunate moment since it is often the subtle expressions that provoke the most growth.
We would advise all who aspire to connect with their souls to listen carefully to the breath of a newborn, the song of a grass hopper, and the cry of a kitten as it searches for its mother.
The vibration of your own soul can be heard on a clear evening in the garden. It is the desire to focus on these simple moments that begins the greatest growth.
Be still.
Listen to the pulse of your soul.
The rhythm will sound out a clear message to your heart. If only you would listen the wonders of the universe would be revealed.
Try.
See what occurs.
Listen."
- Inner Whispers by VERONICA.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
discovery
Each day I’m discovering that the one person I can always depend on is me.
And I am finding out that I am much stronger than I ever imagined to be!
And I am finding out that I am much stronger than I ever imagined to be!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Aashayein
Saw a beautiful movie called Aashayein. Made by Nagesh Kukunoor about a group of terminally ill people awaiting death. Not very deep, but quite sensitive. Had my ex-heart throb Girish Karnad now grown elderly :))) And a wonderful actress called Anaita Nair. And the added bonus of seeing John Abraham really actually ACTING :))))
Some lovely songs from the film with lyrics -
Shukriya zindagi
listen to Shukriya zindagi here...
Some lovely songs from the film with lyrics -
Ab mujhko jeena
Ab hai ujaala, ab hai savera
Ab inn hawaon, pe kar loon basera
Ab main zamaane ko humraaz kar loon
Ab aasmaano pe parwaaz kar loon
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena
Ab inn hawaon, pe kar loon basera
Ab main zamaane ko humraaz kar loon
Ab aasmaano pe parwaaz kar loon
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena
Nakaamiyon se darna kya
Jeene se pehle marna kya
Jhoom kar mera dil ab yeh mujh se kahe
Zindagi hai to zinda dili bhi rahe
Ab iraadon ko hai thaan lena
Ab to khwaabon pe hai jaan dena
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena
Jeene se pehle marna kya
Jhoom kar mera dil ab yeh mujh se kahe
Zindagi hai to zinda dili bhi rahe
Ab iraadon ko hai thaan lena
Ab to khwaabon pe hai jaan dena
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena
Anjaana kal na maanoon main
Yeh pal hai apna jaanoon main
Yahan chaaron taraf pyaar ke silsile
Dekho veeraniyon mein bhi dil hain mile
Apni manzil ki mujh ko khabar hai
Ab to himmat meri humsafar hai
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena
Yeh pal hai apna jaanoon main
Yahan chaaron taraf pyaar ke silsile
Dekho veeraniyon mein bhi dil hain mile
Apni manzil ki mujh ko khabar hai
Ab to himmat meri humsafar hai
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena
Shukriya zindagi
listen to Shukriya zindagi here...
chan ke aai to kya, chaandni to mili
chand din hi sahi yeh kali to khili
shukriya zindagi, shukriya zindagi
teri mehrbaaniyan, teri mehrbaaniyan
sirf ek rang se tasveer hoti kahin
gham nahi to khushi ki qeemat nahi
dhoop, chaaon hain dono to dilkash jahaan
kya shikaayat karain, fursat kahaan
shukriya zindagi, shukriya zindagi
teri mehrbaaniyan, teri mehrbaaniyan
apni taqdeer ki hai yeh daastaan
kabhi qaatilaana, kabhi mehrbaan
mehrbaani jo dil ko qaraar aagaya
apne qaatil pe bhi pyaar aagaya
shukriya zindagi, shukriya zindagi
teri mehrbaaniyan, teri mehrbaaniyan
aaj kismat yahan humko laaye toh hai
ek lamha sahi muskuraaye toh hai
shamma bhuji hai toh kya gila
bhujta wohi hai joh tha jalaa
shukriya zindagi, shukriya zindagi
teri mehrbaaniyan, teri mehrbaaniyan
The greatest place of wonder
"Most people in their lives are ever seeking the external, the perfect relationship, experience, job, place, etc. As a culture it is taught to seek fulfilment outside the self.
Of course being physical places you in a culture where survival is determined by the amount of physical abundance one has acquired. This is not something disagreed with. It is important to feel safe and secure in your environment. The concern lies with where one looks to find this abundance.
Much has been said of late about the ability to create what one wants through their thoughts. It is interesting that most move directly towards material things before seeking alignment with their soul.
Having said that, we reiterate the concept of thought creating reality. The way to abundance does not begin externally. It begins in that place of wonder called your soul.
If one discovers the beauty and power there, the reality will align its self.
Seek then a relationship with your soulful energy. It will lead you to the next place of wonder.... "abundance". Someone once said, money does not grow on trees. Abundance, however, grows within you and will manifest according to the energy of your soul and your internal relationship with it.
There is no greater place of wonder."
- excerpt from Inner Whispers by Venonica
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Zen and the art of car driving (in India) - 1
-ONE-
Yes, yes, I went and bought a car. That too a brand new one. Silky silver. The reaction to this has been varied. Some people said, ‘Wow!" Most seemed happy, but my friend in New Zealand put it all into perspective. She said, “Jolly, I’m amazed you bought a car”. She should know. She's travelled widely in India and knows that traffic = chaos here. Another friend in NZ said, “Good for you with the car, you really are a strong person”. That was kinda perplexing. She has never been to India so I’m still trying to figure out the connection. Maybe she thinks that cars in India don't have power steering. Mum said, ‘What colour is it?” Gosh, Mum, now I have a vehicle capable of causing death and destruction and you are enquiring about the colour? Mum does make profound statements like that sometimes.
Lesson one - don’t take yourself or your acquisitions seriously and don’t lose perspective.
Well, step one over, the next challenge is to drive it. Hardly a challenge one would think for someone who has been zipping up and down highways in NZ at well past the speed limit, except for one small detail. This car has a clutch pedal. Never would I have thought that an insignificant looking piece of metal, less than 6 inches in length could make such a difference to my life. Or would turn driving from a pleasant meditative experience to a harrowing lesson in concentration and coordination. Yet, a challenge is a challenge and in order to tackle it I get myself an ally. Called Ismail. My self-appointed driving instructor.
Lesson two - when God gives you challenges, he also sends help. Sometimes it just materialises on your doorstep.
So driving lessons begin in ernest. At early hours of the morning. Too early for my protesting body clock to handle. So half-asleep and irritable, I try to solve the difficult enigma called the manual transmission and for the first time in my life I wish I was rich. Rich enough to buy an automatic transmission car. Yes, my angst is so great that when Ismail (he must have an especially large cruel bone) points out passing automatic cars, I almost drool with desire. Yes, yes, I keep reminding myself, (after the car has stopped again in the middle of the road), if 10th-fail taxi drivers can do this, so can I, after all it’s just a matter of making the left foot-brain connection. My poor left foot who for so long has relaxed comfortably against the car carpet rousing itself into action to render some foot-tapping accompaniment to zesty music is now being put through the drill of having to constantly ‘clutch dabaa ke 1st gear mein daalo’. Or to get even more scientific, my poor right brain who for so long was given to writing rhapsodies about the silken smoothness of petals silhouetted against summer skies has now got to frantically descramble stimuli coming thick and fast from all over the place and send messages to my left foot to not forget that there is a vital ‘under-6 inch’ piece of metal and to not (for the nth time) release it in first gear. Or even more important - to depress it while changing gears.
Lesson three. There exists a vestigial right-brain---left-foot connection which had been lying unconnected and dormant for long (or maybe holidaying in Greece) and which needs to be reconnected (holiday cut-short) pronto and on the double.
In my solitary moments I secretly think that Ismail is too much of a first gear enthusiast. In fact I think he’s obsessed with it. Else why would he spend so much time teaching me something that is used only while starting the car? Wait, he tells me ominously, wait until you start driving in traffic, then you’ll remember all your first gear lessons. I nod my head in great doubt. But in spite of his obsession with the first gear, this Ismail is quite a character, chatty and friendly and philosophical. It is easy to get talking to him and the topics of our conversations are wide-ranging. In fact we get into such deep discussions that I even begin to suspect that I am taking so long to master the first gear because my mind is focussing more on the topic on discussion rather than the topic under foot. One day I ask him if his wife wears a burkha. ‘Yes, it is said she must in the Koran.’ I digest that for a bit. Then, just out of curiosity, ‘is your wife good-looking?’ I’m thinking, why would anyone want to cover up a plain-looking woman? ‘It says so in the Koran’, is his stoic answer. ‘No, no,’ I protest, wondering what the connection is, ‘I’m not asking about the Koran, I’m asking if she looks good’. ‘I don’t know, but it says so in the Koran’. This parrot-like repetition irks me a bit so I say with some exaggerated patience, ‘Ismail, forget the Koran, what has the Koran to do with your wife’s looks, just tell me how she looks.’ ‘Parwah nahi’, he says. His tone has suddenly changed from open friendliness into stony coldness. I am stunned into silence, so stunned am I by the indifference in his voice that I take my eyes off the road and look at the closed indifference etched in his body language. Suddenly, the clutch pedal looks so much easier to handle, so much more amenable to reason than people’s attitudes.
Lesson four. Car mechanics, any mechanics, laws of physics, laws of pure science, all clean, all manageable, maybe tough to crack but easy to master. Laws made by man is another matter altogether.
------ to be continued --------
Yes, yes, I went and bought a car. That too a brand new one. Silky silver. The reaction to this has been varied. Some people said, ‘Wow!" Most seemed happy, but my friend in New Zealand put it all into perspective. She said, “Jolly, I’m amazed you bought a car”. She should know. She's travelled widely in India and knows that traffic = chaos here. Another friend in NZ said, “Good for you with the car, you really are a strong person”. That was kinda perplexing. She has never been to India so I’m still trying to figure out the connection. Maybe she thinks that cars in India don't have power steering. Mum said, ‘What colour is it?” Gosh, Mum, now I have a vehicle capable of causing death and destruction and you are enquiring about the colour? Mum does make profound statements like that sometimes.
Lesson one - don’t take yourself or your acquisitions seriously and don’t lose perspective.
Well, step one over, the next challenge is to drive it. Hardly a challenge one would think for someone who has been zipping up and down highways in NZ at well past the speed limit, except for one small detail. This car has a clutch pedal. Never would I have thought that an insignificant looking piece of metal, less than 6 inches in length could make such a difference to my life. Or would turn driving from a pleasant meditative experience to a harrowing lesson in concentration and coordination. Yet, a challenge is a challenge and in order to tackle it I get myself an ally. Called Ismail. My self-appointed driving instructor.
Lesson two - when God gives you challenges, he also sends help. Sometimes it just materialises on your doorstep.
So driving lessons begin in ernest. At early hours of the morning. Too early for my protesting body clock to handle. So half-asleep and irritable, I try to solve the difficult enigma called the manual transmission and for the first time in my life I wish I was rich. Rich enough to buy an automatic transmission car. Yes, my angst is so great that when Ismail (he must have an especially large cruel bone) points out passing automatic cars, I almost drool with desire. Yes, yes, I keep reminding myself, (after the car has stopped again in the middle of the road), if 10th-fail taxi drivers can do this, so can I, after all it’s just a matter of making the left foot-brain connection. My poor left foot who for so long has relaxed comfortably against the car carpet rousing itself into action to render some foot-tapping accompaniment to zesty music is now being put through the drill of having to constantly ‘clutch dabaa ke 1st gear mein daalo’. Or to get even more scientific, my poor right brain who for so long was given to writing rhapsodies about the silken smoothness of petals silhouetted against summer skies has now got to frantically descramble stimuli coming thick and fast from all over the place and send messages to my left foot to not forget that there is a vital ‘under-6 inch’ piece of metal and to not (for the nth time) release it in first gear. Or even more important - to depress it while changing gears.
Lesson three. There exists a vestigial right-brain---left-foot connection which had been lying unconnected and dormant for long (or maybe holidaying in Greece) and which needs to be reconnected (holiday cut-short) pronto and on the double.
In my solitary moments I secretly think that Ismail is too much of a first gear enthusiast. In fact I think he’s obsessed with it. Else why would he spend so much time teaching me something that is used only while starting the car? Wait, he tells me ominously, wait until you start driving in traffic, then you’ll remember all your first gear lessons. I nod my head in great doubt. But in spite of his obsession with the first gear, this Ismail is quite a character, chatty and friendly and philosophical. It is easy to get talking to him and the topics of our conversations are wide-ranging. In fact we get into such deep discussions that I even begin to suspect that I am taking so long to master the first gear because my mind is focussing more on the topic on discussion rather than the topic under foot. One day I ask him if his wife wears a burkha. ‘Yes, it is said she must in the Koran.’ I digest that for a bit. Then, just out of curiosity, ‘is your wife good-looking?’ I’m thinking, why would anyone want to cover up a plain-looking woman? ‘It says so in the Koran’, is his stoic answer. ‘No, no,’ I protest, wondering what the connection is, ‘I’m not asking about the Koran, I’m asking if she looks good’. ‘I don’t know, but it says so in the Koran’. This parrot-like repetition irks me a bit so I say with some exaggerated patience, ‘Ismail, forget the Koran, what has the Koran to do with your wife’s looks, just tell me how she looks.’ ‘Parwah nahi’, he says. His tone has suddenly changed from open friendliness into stony coldness. I am stunned into silence, so stunned am I by the indifference in his voice that I take my eyes off the road and look at the closed indifference etched in his body language. Suddenly, the clutch pedal looks so much easier to handle, so much more amenable to reason than people’s attitudes.
Lesson four. Car mechanics, any mechanics, laws of physics, laws of pure science, all clean, all manageable, maybe tough to crack but easy to master. Laws made by man is another matter altogether.
------ to be continued --------
Monday, September 13, 2010
Poems from 'Udaan'
Lovely poems from a wonderful movie called 'Udaan'
Jo lehron se aage nazar dekh paati toh ...
Jo lehron se aage nazar dekh paati toh tum jaan lete main kya sochta hoon,
Woh aawaz tumko bhi jo bhed jaati toh tum jaan lete main kya sochta hoon.
Zid ka tumhare jo parda sarakta khidkiyon se aage bhi tum dekh paate,
Aankhon se aadaton ki jo palken hatate toh tum jaan lete main kya sochta hoon.
Meri tarah khud par hota zara bharosa toh kuchh door tum bhi saath-saath aate,
Rang meri aankhon ka baant-te zara sa toh kuchh door tum bhi saath-saath aate,
Nasha aasmaan ka jo choomta tumhe bhi, hasraten tumhari naya janm paatin,
Khud doosre janam mein meri udaan chhoone kuchh door tum bhi saath-saath aate.
Pairon ki bediyan khwabon ko baandhe nahi re, kabhi nahi re
Mitti ki parton ko nanne se ankur bhi cheeray, dheere dheere
Iraade hare hare, jinke seeno mein ghar kare
Woh dil ki sune kare na darre, na darre
Subah ki kirno ko rokein jo salaakhein hai kahan
Jo khayalon pe pehre daale woh aankhein hai kahan
Par khulne ki deri hai parinde udh ke choomenge
Aasman aasman aasman
Aazaadiyan, aazaadiyan
Maagey na kabhi, mile mile mile
Aazaadiyan, aazaadiyan
Watch the 'aazadiyaan' song here
Chhoti chhoti chitrayi yaadein
Chhoti-chhoti chhitrayi yaadein
Bichhi hui hain lamhon ki lawn par
Nange pair unpar chalte-chalte
Itni door chale aaye
Ki ab bhool gaye hain ki
Joote kahan utaare the.
Aedi komal thi, jab aaye the.
Thodi si naazuk hai abhi bhi.
Aur nazuk hi rahegi
In khatti-meethi yaadon ki shararat
Jab tak inhe gudgudati rahe.
Sach, bhool gaye hain
Ki joote kahan utaare the.
Par lagta hai,
Ab unki zaroorat nahin.
Jo lehron se aage nazar dekh paati toh ...
Jo lehron se aage nazar dekh paati toh tum jaan lete main kya sochta hoon,
Woh aawaz tumko bhi jo bhed jaati toh tum jaan lete main kya sochta hoon.
Zid ka tumhare jo parda sarakta khidkiyon se aage bhi tum dekh paate,
Aankhon se aadaton ki jo palken hatate toh tum jaan lete main kya sochta hoon.
Meri tarah khud par hota zara bharosa toh kuchh door tum bhi saath-saath aate,
Rang meri aankhon ka baant-te zara sa toh kuchh door tum bhi saath-saath aate,
Nasha aasmaan ka jo choomta tumhe bhi, hasraten tumhari naya janm paatin,
Khud doosre janam mein meri udaan chhoone kuchh door tum bhi saath-saath aate.
Aazaadiyan
Pairon ki bediyan khwabon ko baandhe nahi re, kabhi nahi re
Mitti ki parton ko nanne se ankur bhi cheeray, dheere dheere
Iraade hare hare, jinke seeno mein ghar kare
Woh dil ki sune kare na darre, na darre
Subah ki kirno ko rokein jo salaakhein hai kahan
Jo khayalon pe pehre daale woh aankhein hai kahan
Par khulne ki deri hai parinde udh ke choomenge
Aasman aasman aasman
Aazaadiyan, aazaadiyan
Maagey na kabhi, mile mile mile
Aazaadiyan, aazaadiyan
Friday, September 10, 2010
In essence
When I think of all the great poets, artists and other creative people down the ages and their creations, I realise that their creative expression is simply the purest expression of the Spirit. What is poetry but the pouring of Spirit into words and then taking form? Likewise, wouldn’t Spirit have ignited the imaginations of artists and moved their hands into creating works of awe-inspiring beauty. Similarly, we can look at ourselves and others and find pure expressions of Spirit. It could be the ability of someone to cook wonderful meals, or the simplicity of their nature, or their proclivity for going out of their way to help, or the mere sparkle in their eyes. It is all the Spirit showing through. From this point it would not be hard for us to see Spirit in everyone. If it is not immediately evident, it does not mean it is lacking, it only means that our vision could be clouded by prejudice and judgement. For aren't we all Spirit in essence ...
Thursday, September 09, 2010
Mind Monkeynomics
"Throw out all you talking, concepts and words! After all, what is the mind? It is just the noise that goes on inside. With waking begins the chattering, and the talk goes on endlessly thereafter. This is your mind and you run after it"
- Nisargadatta, The Nectar of the Lord's Feet
- Nisargadatta, The Nectar of the Lord's Feet
Monday, September 06, 2010
Friday, September 03, 2010
Companionship
Oh the comfort, the inexpressible comfort, of feeling safe with a person. Having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pour them all out just as they are, chaff and grain together, and a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.
(George Eliot)
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Know yourself
Leave aside all notion that you are a human being who has a body, mind, desires, fears and know yourself to be a being from another dimension, pouring yourself into little cups of life, now here, now there, but never confined to any, playfully tasting the flavours that each cup offers but never attached to any. Boundless, formless, that which gives life to life but is not life, that which gives intelligence but is not intelligence. That which cannot be quantified nor ascribed any quality. Here, but not confined to space. Present, but not confined by time. Know yourself as that which cannot even be named.
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