Food for thought

I count braver him who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; 
for the hardest victory is over ones self.

Source - internet (possibly the Koran)

Quotes from Samsara

Saw a wonderful movie called Samsara, about a young man who becomes a Buddhist Llama but is unable is resist the lure of the world. He puts aside his robes, falls in love, marries and starts a family. The death of his old master and a cryptic note he leaves behind makes him rethink his purpose in life and brings him once again to the crossroads.

Some memorable quotes from the movie, quoted out of context here but still retain their wisdom and stay in mind for long after -

There are things we must unlearn in order to learn them
and there are things we must own in order to renounce them.

How can one prevent a drop of water from ever drying up?
By throwing it into the sea...
 
What is more important -
satisfying one thousand desires
or conquering just one?

The spark

Being in the state of awareness, one needs to examine closely the notion that one is a human being, examine the various thinking processes, concepts, assumptions that go into the making of that notion and one will find that it is nothing but a notion, carefully built up over the years by our own experiences and input from others. Once we clearly see that it is nothing but a notion then we can slowly deconstruct it. Take it apart, piece by piece, until it disappears and we stand revealed as divine.

Our whole world view of reality is based upon input mostly from our sense organs. And our mind then takes all that input and makes it own stories. What we call reality is nothing but a personalised story that we are constantly scripting. Therefore, my ‘reality’ will be totally different from everyone else’s and so likewise everyone’s else’s ‘reality’. If this so-called ‘reality’ exists only in our experience, then where or what is the real thing? For finding out, obviously, we have to get out of this illusion-churning-out thing called the mind.

Because our ‘reality’ is based upon input from the senses, the purview of our world is limited by the scope of the senses. Therefore we perceive ourselves as limited beings, separate from everything else. But once we debunk the myth that we are the body and lose our identification with it, then the limits that our senses have set fall away and then the boundaries that we have set for ourselves and for others also disappear. In that boundary-less world all is one. It is just one matrix of interconnected energy. This reality is universal. It is not personal and not defined by individual experience nor bound by the limits of the senses.

The desire to reach this state of universal consciousness is a spark that lies buried within all of us. Our job is to nurture this spark and make it grow. This desire to reach our real state is so strong that if nurtured it will attract all the knowledge and wisdom required to cut through the veil of illusion, to wake us up from the sleep state of maya. The only effort that is required of us is to nurture this spark, and see to it that it doesn’t get snuffed out. Then the flames will grow into a conflagration that will consume the false world of maya and reduce it to ashes. Then reality will stand revealed.

Zen and the Art of Car Driving in India - 2

Well, the day comes when Ismail announces that I have been first-gear-trained enough and now it’s time to take to the road. The actual road, not the back-roads of sleepy hamlets where we have been practicing so far. The only problem being that the ‘road’ in question is the National Highway which runs close to my house. So, heart pounding, pulse racing, hair standing on edge and hand-gripping-wheel, I set out to brush bumpers with overloaded interstate lorries, burly State Transport buses and autos with the hyperbolical legend ‘to seat only 7’, when there is thrice the number clinging to its insides and dripping from its sides. From then on it is pulse-racing, heart-stopping action. Terminator-look-alike lorries bear down on me with exhausts fuming and horns blaring. Buses stop in the middle of the road without warning to upload or download passengers, with scant regard for courtesy or the passengers’ lives, sending me into panic-mode and causing Ismail to jerk the hand-brake. Autos, with their over-flowing humanity materialise from nowhere and streak across my path, making me freeze with fright and Ismail to yet again, pull the hand-brake. And most inexplicably, vehicles driving on the wrong side of the road, approach us head-on, while I stare at them saucer-eyed, bracing myself for a collision, their occupants jaunty and mindless, while I pick up my scattered nerves and shake my head in disbelief. The only thin veneer of safety I have in this unruly medley is the ‘L’ board which we have decided to put up even though I don’t have a learner’s license, but which sends out hidden signals to other drivers, ‘be warned, this car is liable to behave irresponsibly and stop without notice or reason’.

Lesson five : Driving on the National Highway is good for the heart. It gives it a workout even while seated seat-belted in a vehicle with the AC on.



New Zealand as you might know is a pacifist state, in politics and temperament, where there are ‘give way’ signs everywhere and we have been taught to drive defensively. So it is common practice for motorists to stop and give way to other cars and pedestrians. So true to my NZ training, on the first days of my foray into the big, bad jungle of Indian roads, I am giving way with such tameez and taqaluff that would put any Lucknowi nawab to shame, until it prompts Ismail to proclaim in exasperation, ‘if you drive like this you will never get anywhere. You must not give in to muscling-in tactics, otherwise you’ll get edged out of the road’. I protest with equal belligerence that I am not used to vehicles coming so close to my vehicle, I am used to COURTESY. To which Ismail pointedly points out the obvious, ‘but you are not in NZ any more, this is India. Yahan koi bhi kissi ke liye rukne wala nahi’.  Reality check. And check-mate. Bolti band. Heart down in my boots wishing I was catching the next flight out to NZ.

Lesson six - Reality bites. Bites big-time in India. But what is reality but the people and their attitudes. And my response to them.



Anyway, it so transpires that after a few days of being edged out and pushed around and stopped in my tracks by the likes of pedestrians, cyclists, even buffaloes, my hitherto unknown Amazonian genes kick in and decide to kick-ass. No more taqaluff, and most certainly no more tameez! Stopping and giving way? Pooh! what is that? After all the road is mine too, I proclaim belligerently to Ismail, while kindness cringes in my heart and courtesy cowers dumb-struck. I stare aggressively at hungry-looking underpaid drivers, disdainfully turn my nose up at muscled-mustachioed glaring men and frown down at sneering autorickshaw wallas holding my own and not giving in an inch. All the ‘give-way’ rules are wiped clean from my brain, courtesy gets tossed overboard and crushed underfoot. Tameez dries up quickly in the dry heat, while taqaluff was last seen hitch-hiking in the direction of NZ as I slowly get programmed into ‘jungle’ mode in a brilliant case of regression. Sad to see it though, sad to see myself get into ‘survival’ mode, where all one is thinking about is ‘I, me, myself’ with all the others ‘gaye bhaad mein’. 



Lesson seven - when in Rome, drive as the Romans do. Even if it turns you from a sweet-tempered, courteous, pacifist into an aggressive gargoyle with a wicked glint in your eyes and a snarl on your lips. Like Chief Seattle so poignantly put it, “end of civilisation, beginning of survival’.

Home is where the heart is ...

Click here (Hutt Valley) to see a panoramic view of where my heart lies ! Sigh !


And here is where I used to work (Wellington)