The smallest drop of water has to rise above the vastness of the ocean to be detached. This is possible only when the attachment has reached it’s peak. The drop of water rises only after it has been scorched by the sun and becomes lighter than the rest and transcends.Attachment and bonding may seem synonymous.But they are not.Bonding is an uniting force whereas attachment is ones fondness,dedication,passion. Attachment is a great power but undiscovered. When we feel close to someone emotionally ,physically, mentally we think we are attached. No, it’s not true . It is our arrangement made for comforting and maintaining ‘self’. We often confuse bonding to attachment and in the process we try to transform that bond to suit us.Attachment is beautiful only when it is bigger than self. Bonding is born out of desire to feel comfortable so the separation is painful.Attachment being selfless has no pain .When the fruit ripens it detaches itself from the tree ,easily as that. Attachment is a great tool to overcome suffering or pain. Normally we try to run away from suffering thus leaving it unattended.If one attaches oneself to it we are bound to nurse it and heal it. Once the healing happens we find ourselves rising out of it as the drop of water from the ocean. Our soul is lighter and conscious is clear to take on newer challenges.
The angelic élan vital on this planet was knocked together with great precision and care.It was cast on to this macrocosm to hold faith together. This soul could have been marauded by oceans of emotions but can still put up an assuring smile. This being can thumb through tea ,juices and left overs. It has the resilience to heal itself if ever it took ill and run the errands like rolling out ‘rotis’, get the you under the shower, pack the tiffin, tidy up ; when it could barely stand on it’s feet. It has a pair of hands to hold you to the bosom when you have a bad dream, spank you when you are being difficult , pat you when your right, help you with your projects and nevertheless helped you scribble the first letter.It is soft on the exteriors but exceptionally tough on the interiors. It can kiss away the pain of a broken leg as also the fiasco of a failed love affair.It has that pair of eyes that can check you behind closed doors and amusingly pop the question ‘What are you up to ?’ knowing what you are up to; look into your eyes and say,’I understand you completely ; it’s okay ‘ when you have failed badly; without uttering a word.It has the intellect to perceive thoughts that are unexpressed, can think, kick around and accommodate new expectations. To express cheer,contentment,heartache,indifference,setbacks, grief and pride it uses tear as a tool.It’s a great piece of artistry and is called ‘mom’.
‘The two hardest things to say in life are ‘Hello’ for the first time and ‘Goodbye’ for the last’. – unknown.
Dollars to doughnuts, they are, but we experience the finest moments of life between the time. I flourish by what transpires ‘in between’ times . Thankfully, ‘goodbyes’ have been few as the connections have been with the soul, thus survived skepticism and tight corners. Not long ago, one such survivor called on me and greeted me ‘Aloha’. For real , I was hearing this for the first time and knew it meant ‘hello’. Sure as I could be , loved the way it sounded , kind of musical.My curiosity mounting on the word I quizzed her about the origin of the word. She apprised me that it meant ‘hello’ in Hawaiian but in the same breath she said it meant much more than a hello. It meant love, compassion and peace and the true ‘Aloha’ spirit could be felt only when the abundant heart is capable of influencing others around you. As we share this energy we harmonize with the universal power that Hawaiians call ‘Mana’. The cordial use of this exceptional power is the secret of achieving true health, prosperity and success. Ineffable indeed ,a great practice for treating people with love and compassion. Next time when I meet the other survivors I am going to share this spirit and reflect the abundance of my heart.
I was editing my selfie and I noticed the backdrop was mundane. I attempted to blur it. It was time consuming and an overused skill by me. So this time around, I opted to darken the subject, a shade darker than the backdrop and the picture was striking enough. The conclusion was, keeping the background as it was and the subject with a slight change, the picture looked amazing!
In our lives we run into people who drive us ahead on our path and some who pull us away. We are surrounded by hordes who try to grab our attention and deviate us from the core things in our lives. We need to edit our lives. We should take a good look at ourselves and things that need to be highlighted. Knocking sense into beings who try to blur us may be tedious so lets try to make ourselves slightly stronger, sensible, evaluative and non-judgemental.
I’m not barely flesh and bones
But lies inside a soul profound
I’m not just elegance
But an entity of aspirations abound
Feminity is my pride
And my dreams alongside
Fortitude is what I wear
And prejudice I dare
Sincerity and fairness I adorn
Deception I scorn
A woman that I am
Adept and Clannish
Undaunted and endowed.
We all are products of our pasts. Everyone of us has ‘should not have done that’ thing behind us. Our pasts may have been bleak or a mix of both good and bad. We brush away few things under the mat and hope mad that it remains there forever. All we are trying to do is to put away the past behind us to move on in life or atleast, that is what we think we are doing. The fact is we are actually avoiding the problem. We are still carrying the baggage from the past. We set out on our journey leaving our past in the closet. We succeed in our goals and there is no stopping us, but the fear of our past tumbling out of the closet haunts us. It makes us difficult to trust people or confide in them. We don our jogging shoes and keep racing away from our past. We run until our lungs finally give away. It’s a nightmare to run away from anything. We run probably because the bruises caused by fragmented chunks of us are deep and are still hurting. There comes a point in time where we essentially need to stop and take a breather. We have to trust someone. We have to allow that someone to re-assemble those broken chunks of us for us. We know for sure that we cannot change the past nor do we have control over the consequences arising out of it. It is pointless to swap our peace, order and balance in life with chaos, disturbance and imbalance. The only option we have is ‘mai pen rai’ the Thai philosophy of accepting and moving on. We need not flee anymore. Give up the jogging shoes and rest your hand on your knees. Put the curiosity to rest by being brave enough to place the facts before the world. Take the load off your chest. There is only one life and we have to figure it out well.
Returned to blogging after a long break. It’s been raining and gazing at it from my indoors is the only acceptable thing about this season for me, given the fact that I live in Mumbai. The muggy days, they don’t lift my spirits be it indoors or outdoors. Life seemed to be jammed and world-weariness was ripping me apart. But come what may I never let my curiosity sink. I keep seeking change and have always been open to new horizons.
Every year I spend summers at my ancestral home in Mangalore. For the most part of summers, the place is abuzz with annual celebrations at the temples and homes. I hail from a family that is always upbeat to keep up with traditions and rituals. I have unceasingly wondered, why are the folks dead set on following these traditions and rituals? I remember reading eminent writer Shyam Manohar say, “Traditions are not to be preserved nor are they to be deliberately broken. They are to be reformed by making unknown known.” May be my clan was doing just that, making the unknown known.
Getting back to my downpour blues, I was just looking forward to find some cheerfulness and motivation to muddle through my day to day grind. Finding myself off the path I realised that it was my chance to build my own trail and walk over it. With the onset of festive seasons the mood changed favorably. I happened to be at my cousins place for ‘Rakshabandhan’, to celebrate the brother-sister bonding more so my family bonding. This is something I accept without kicking up a fuss, I am never let down. Being there with the brood, discussing big and small things in life was much of a soul lifting experience. Somehow it showed in the highly desired ‘Hygge’ into my life.
It occurred to me that traditions are noteworthy. They link the folks and give them a sense of being part of an extensive lineage. Beliefs and ideals of a clan can be metamorphosed into effective channels to initiate enduring and expressive traditions. They need not be imposing with long drawn preparations. All that counts is the aura and vivacity one invests into making it happen. Traditions let the hoi polloi bred into an everyday existence, get hang of the occurences that handed out to them an individuality and a virtue sufficient to renounce the unwanted. It is then, amongst the jostling hordes of emotions the right one finds pride of place. Cheer cannot be hunted for, outside of self nor can be bought. It comes about when thoughts are clearer and souls are lighter. I have set myself on to that path, an odyssey of the obscure to the obvious.