It is like a river flowing through the valley. It is picture perfect. Clear water, rich vegetation, perfectly serene and very divine. It is where birds chirp, flowers bloom, waters sing and the winds move soothing everything they comes across.
The river flows calmly, hiding its strong undercurrents. For its waters, the flow has been smooth until now. It occasionally came across huge mountains and big rocks, which it managed to pass clear of. There were a few falls but the river has survived them all. For the river, the journey so far has been like a dream. It could never get better than this. But...
How long will the journey be dream like? How long will the path be free of obstacles? Just flowing through the valley, is this all? Will the river ever rise to the heights of the mountains? Is meeting the ocean the sole goal? Is it the only reason for this journey and the only end?
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
It's cloudy today!
For me, today is one of those bad days when you have lots to say but can't write a word. The feelings are all intertwined. One thought of chain gets connected with the other and ends with another.
It is something like a cloudy afternoon. The sun wants to shine hard on the ground but the clouds come in between. The clouds are holding back a thousand water drops that are eager to wet the soil but this just does not happen because the wind doesn't blow right.
I have this huge urge to fill this space but a thousand thoughts cross my mind at once. The thoughts want to come down as words but the feeling is just not right.
I am now waiting for the wind to blow, the clouds to pour and the sunshine to come through.
It is something like a cloudy afternoon. The sun wants to shine hard on the ground but the clouds come in between. The clouds are holding back a thousand water drops that are eager to wet the soil but this just does not happen because the wind doesn't blow right.
I have this huge urge to fill this space but a thousand thoughts cross my mind at once. The thoughts want to come down as words but the feeling is just not right.
I am now waiting for the wind to blow, the clouds to pour and the sunshine to come through.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
The story of a wave
This is a story of a wave in Arabian sea...
Sometime back, in the womb of Arabian sea, a little wave was born. It was made of beautiful little drops of water. The wave was a clear little thing and was still untouched by the dirty shore.
The wave was named Grace. She was a little sweet, a little salty, naughty, curious and carried sparkling eyes. She was the apple of the eye for everyone around her. Always on the run, she hated being idle and looked forward to experience the little joys that life brought her way. However, much pampered and much protected Grace had big dreams. She wished to reach the shore and go beyond. However much she loved the sea, she knew she was not made to rise and fall back into the sea.
Grace was happy with her life but never content. She was always on a look out for the right opportunity. And one fine day, she grabbed it.
That day, Grace could hear the world calling her with its arms wide open. She had escaped the prying eyes and broken all chains that held her captive. She owed no explanation to anyone and had no obligation. She believed she was free to live her life and enjoy every moment of it.
With hopes filled in her eyes and dreams in her heart, Grace began her journey. She travelled far and wide. She met new waves and learnt from her new experiences. Always optimistic, she never stopped. Her curiosity took her many nautical miles till one fine day she saw the shore.
Grace was thrilled. Her determination was finally paying off. Her patience of so many years was now turning into restlessness. She couldn't wait till she reached the shore. Grace closed her eyes, took a deep breath and just headed on.
Grace continued. She kept moving on and on until she suddenly lashed herself to a rock.
Grace's dreams suddenly were shattered and her droplets scattered all over the rock. Her dream of kissing the shore seemed unrealistic with every passing moment.
Grace is today unable to move. She is today trapped by the big black rocks that surround her. Unable to gather her droplets back and unable to rise above the rock, Grace is now struggling and feels suffocated.
Will Grace ever make it to the shore? Will her dreams come true? Or did she expect too much from life? Was she wrong in escaping from the protective captive back home? Is there hope?
Sometime back, in the womb of Arabian sea, a little wave was born. It was made of beautiful little drops of water. The wave was a clear little thing and was still untouched by the dirty shore.
The wave was named Grace. She was a little sweet, a little salty, naughty, curious and carried sparkling eyes. She was the apple of the eye for everyone around her. Always on the run, she hated being idle and looked forward to experience the little joys that life brought her way. However, much pampered and much protected Grace had big dreams. She wished to reach the shore and go beyond. However much she loved the sea, she knew she was not made to rise and fall back into the sea.
Grace was happy with her life but never content. She was always on a look out for the right opportunity. And one fine day, she grabbed it.
That day, Grace could hear the world calling her with its arms wide open. She had escaped the prying eyes and broken all chains that held her captive. She owed no explanation to anyone and had no obligation. She believed she was free to live her life and enjoy every moment of it.
With hopes filled in her eyes and dreams in her heart, Grace began her journey. She travelled far and wide. She met new waves and learnt from her new experiences. Always optimistic, she never stopped. Her curiosity took her many nautical miles till one fine day she saw the shore.
Grace was thrilled. Her determination was finally paying off. Her patience of so many years was now turning into restlessness. She couldn't wait till she reached the shore. Grace closed her eyes, took a deep breath and just headed on.
Grace continued. She kept moving on and on until she suddenly lashed herself to a rock.
Grace's dreams suddenly were shattered and her droplets scattered all over the rock. Her dream of kissing the shore seemed unrealistic with every passing moment.
Grace is today unable to move. She is today trapped by the big black rocks that surround her. Unable to gather her droplets back and unable to rise above the rock, Grace is now struggling and feels suffocated.
Will Grace ever make it to the shore? Will her dreams come true? Or did she expect too much from life? Was she wrong in escaping from the protective captive back home? Is there hope?
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
India and superstitions
Every region has its own set of superstitions and India is certainly no exception. We have a superstition attached to every act in our day-to-day life. Be it getting a hair cut done or a simple sneeze, it could be twitching of an eye or itching of palms, a cat crossing ones way or a dog howling, you name it and we have it.
But I strongly oppose being very critical about these superstitions. All of us know that every superstition has a logic attached to it. All we have to do is, look for it.
In India, getting a hair cut done on Tuesdays is considered inauspicious. People avoid visiting barbers on Tuesdays. But the superstition has a logical explanation. In earlier times, every village had one, at the most two, barbers. Since, these barbers needed a day off, people avoided visiting them on Tuesdays. This practice is still relevant in India.
Another very popular superstition is that of the black cat. In fact, it's not just for the black cat but any cat. People stop driving when a cat crosses the road. It is considered to be a bad omen. But the logic behind it is simple. If we continue driving when a cat is crossing our path then we might run over it. But instead, if we stop or slow down then we can free ourselves from carrying a guilt.
Superstitions are accompanied by reasoning. They are nothing but a form of knowledge. This knowledge has been put into use and converted into practise.
A supertition can be compared to a fruit. Only that, in this case, we peel the skin and throw the pulp!
But I strongly oppose being very critical about these superstitions. All of us know that every superstition has a logic attached to it. All we have to do is, look for it.
In India, getting a hair cut done on Tuesdays is considered inauspicious. People avoid visiting barbers on Tuesdays. But the superstition has a logical explanation. In earlier times, every village had one, at the most two, barbers. Since, these barbers needed a day off, people avoided visiting them on Tuesdays. This practice is still relevant in India.
Another very popular superstition is that of the black cat. In fact, it's not just for the black cat but any cat. People stop driving when a cat crosses the road. It is considered to be a bad omen. But the logic behind it is simple. If we continue driving when a cat is crossing our path then we might run over it. But instead, if we stop or slow down then we can free ourselves from carrying a guilt.
Superstitions are accompanied by reasoning. They are nothing but a form of knowledge. This knowledge has been put into use and converted into practise.
A supertition can be compared to a fruit. Only that, in this case, we peel the skin and throw the pulp!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Why do Indians wear a bindi on their forehead?
The most common answer to this question is that it indicates the marital status of a woman. This is especially true in northern India. The red bindi of the woman is said to bring prosperity and happiness to the family.
In southern India, girls and women, regardless of their marital status, wear a bindi.
However, a widow in India does not wear a bindi. She can, at the most, wear a black bindi on her forehead. The absence of bindi on a widow or the black bindi signifies her loss.
But the bindi is not just for women. Men too apply 'tilak' on their foreheads, which is another form of bindi. And these 'tilaks' have nothing to do with the marital status of men.
So, why do Hindus (both men and women) wear a bindi in India?
It is to signify and protect the third eye.
A bindi represents the third eye in humans for spiritual sight. This third eye is used to see things, which cannot be seen through physical eyes. The bindi helps us cultivate this spiritual vision. It stands as a reminder of the third eye.
Did you know, the great Hindu saints in the Himalayas, meditate by focusing their energies towards the third eye? It is not as easy as it seems. For normal beings like us, it is hard to continuously focus our energies to the third eye even for 3 minutes.
The day this third eye opens in an individual, will be the day he will attain enlightenment and get closer to God.
However, not wearing a bindi does not necessarily make any Hindu, a lesser Hindu.
In southern India, girls and women, regardless of their marital status, wear a bindi.
However, a widow in India does not wear a bindi. She can, at the most, wear a black bindi on her forehead. The absence of bindi on a widow or the black bindi signifies her loss.
But the bindi is not just for women. Men too apply 'tilak' on their foreheads, which is another form of bindi. And these 'tilaks' have nothing to do with the marital status of men.
So, why do Hindus (both men and women) wear a bindi in India?
It is to signify and protect the third eye.
A bindi represents the third eye in humans for spiritual sight. This third eye is used to see things, which cannot be seen through physical eyes. The bindi helps us cultivate this spiritual vision. It stands as a reminder of the third eye.
Did you know, the great Hindu saints in the Himalayas, meditate by focusing their energies towards the third eye? It is not as easy as it seems. For normal beings like us, it is hard to continuously focus our energies to the third eye even for 3 minutes.
The day this third eye opens in an individual, will be the day he will attain enlightenment and get closer to God.
However, not wearing a bindi does not necessarily make any Hindu, a lesser Hindu.
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