The Blue Conch Flower

But for my mother, I would not have known the importance of the “Blue Conch Flower”.

It is a truth which I repeat to myself every morning when I pluck the flowers for worshipping Lord Shiva. While doing so, I see my mother wrapped in a freshly hand washed cotton sari,  her wrinkled skin radiating with golden glow, a dot of ash firmly placed on her forehead, her back slightly bent with age, going around our balcony and touching the creepers full of blue conch flowers.  

Even today I hear her telling me in her strong and clear voice “Son, take these seeds and put them in another flower pot. More and more creepers will come up”. Her short afternoon nap over, she used to tend to the creepers by pulling away weeds from the pots. She used to distribute the seeds to family and friends with  the joy of spreading happiness around.

Realisation is the key to awakening

Oblivious I was, I could not share her joy in tending to the creepers, plucking the flowers or distributing the seeds to friends and family members.  I saw the blue conch flower just as any other flower and did not attach any importance to it. Her demise changed everything completely. More than the flowers, I saw her image in each and every flower and felt her absence more and more. Sitting in the swing placed in the backyard, I imagined her going around the creepers, touching them lovingly and musing “they are so perfectly shaped as a conch; Lord Shiva will be pleased when I worship him with these flowers”.

Today, when I look at the flowers, pluck them for worship and offer them to the Lord, I feel the presence of my mother in every activity. I see her nodding her head happily as if she is pleased over the continuation of a relationship between nature, human being and the God almighty.

Down the memory lane

Recently, I started thinking if there are any more things which I did not share with my mother when she was alive but seem to be of relevance and worth appreciating now. As I went down the memory lane and started viewing my actions and reactions in my relationship with my mother, I realized that I could have done better. “Why did I fail to understand my mother better? Was it due to lack of flexibility in me or preconceived notions guiding my thoughts and actions? Did I hurt my mother and what can I do now to bring happiness to her departed soul”?

Going down the memory lane made me notice many instances in which I failed to act with tenderness and see clearly the occasions on which I hurt her. She took everything in her stride and was as tender towards me as her golden hued tender skin.

Just as I was thinking, my eyes fell on the Blue Conch Flowers and heard them say silently “Your mother loved us a lot and saw her beloved God in us. You can bring happiness to her departed soul by continuing what she did; be tender towards us and see the Lord in us”. I stood silently and nodded my head as a child nods his head obediently to what his parents say.

The blue conch flowers went ahead and said “There is something more which we would like to tell you. Keep emptying all the preconceived notions from your heart and mind to leave enough space in them to see and appreciate things as they are happening. Else, you may have to go down the memory lane very often to make amends”

I remained silent and said to myself “Thank you my dear flowers. The sole purpose of my going down the memory lane was to purify my soul and you have helped me achieve my objective”

 

"The Monsoon Orchestra"

Rain seems to fascinate me a lot. In the city I live, it has been raining incessantly for the last ten days and it is the heaviest in the wee hours of the morning. Few days ago, as I walked into the verandah of my house in the early hours, the rain which made its presence felt throughout the night welcomed me with moist fragrance. The world was still asleep and in the silence, I could distinctly hear the sound the rain drops made on the green grass, leaves, cement road and the terrace. Each one had its own melody as if they were an ensemble of an orchestra. I forgot everything else, concentrated on the “music of the rain drops” and was soon drawn into the orchestra.

The conductor; immaculately dressed in a tuxedo, bow; holding a baton; his face a personification of concentration; countenance glowing with radiance; briefly looked at me and nodded his head acknowledging my presence. I was very apprehensive at the sight of the conductor and stood in a corner hesitantly. Though he was busy conducting the orchestra, he made eye contact with me and beckoned me to come near. As I went near, he made me sit in front of a musical instrument which I never saw before. It was shining with eye blinding brilliance and was a pleasure to behold. The musical notes neatly pinned to a stand were crystal clear and though I did not have any formal musical initiation could understand them easily. I looked intently at the conductor as his whole body swayed to the tune of the baton and seemed to be a boat floating on the sea waves. Every sinew in his body was alive to the music and with his eyes closed and hands moving in rhythm, he was the music itself. All of a sudden, birds from above the trees started chirping happily at the prospect of the morning and they blended into the orchestra like playback singers. There was wide smile on the face of the conductor as if he knew that the birds would sing and he appreciated them with a slight nod of his head. a

I sat mesmerized and saw the conductor waving his baton swiftly. As if it was a signal to play the percussion instruments, the terrace which was filled with water released it through a pipe and the water fell on the ground with a thud. The fall of rain drops on the leaves and tree branches was subdued as if they were slowed down by the conductor to let the drums have their say. By this time tempo of the rain picked up and the rain drops were falling heavily on the cement road. The sound so produced looked as if all the instruments started playing the final note to build a crescendo. It was accompanied by a loud thunder from the clouds and I thought it was a thunderous applause from the audience.

“Wow! Gods must be very kind to me to let me watch such a marvelous performance”. I thought.

Finally, the conductor bowed to the audience and came to me. His face was glowing with such brilliance that it was difficult for me to look into his eyes. He smiled at my predicament, placed a hand on my shoulder and said “do you know how to play the instrument which is in front of you”?

I was silent.

“Look at it carefully. Does it have resemblance to something you know intimately”? The conductor said.

It is a part of me. I started looking at the instrument with full concentration till such time that I was fully consumed by it. The instrument seemed to be a part of me and saw its brilliance emanate from me and spread all over the surroundings. I was in unison with the happiness around and as I played the notes, “The Monsoon Orchestra” came alive once again.

“How is it possible”? I asked the conductor.

“It is possible. Every human being has the capacity to radiate brilliance and make everything around shine.  All of us have a musical instrument called heart inside us. It shines, produces sweet music called feelings, emotions and spreads happiness all around”.

“But is each one of us aware of this fact”? I asked.

“To be aware of the brilliance inside us, we need to appreciate the brilliance around us; feel the beauty in the environment; appreciate the goodness; be grateful for all the blessings showered upon us and live in the present”.

“How true”? If I was not in the present, I would have missed “The Monsoon Orchestra” I thought.

"The Longing"

Two days ago, I walked on to the terrace of my house in search of something which my soul was longing for; to find answers to my long silence; a silence which was marked by absence of expression; a silence which was the result of my not being able to condense many thoughts floating in my mind; the thoughts which used to take some shape but vanish into thin air like flakes of cotton; the thoughts which I tried to hold onto and put together but couldn’t succeed. They seemed to go away but, like honeybees returning to the queen bee used to come back to my mind.  I felt as if they were asking me a question “when will you put the essence we collected into a shape and be relieved of the heaviness within you?

Heaviness? I didn’t know that I was carrying a load. “What could the load be?”I asked myself. As if they were privy to what was going on within me, the thoughts said “the load of your inability to express. Don’t ask us how to do it. Observe the clouds and you will know”.

It was at the behest of my thoughts that I sat comfortably near the water tank placed in the South West and started observing the clouds with the twilight as their backdrop. Birds returning home after a long day’s work and the setting Sun going to rise in another horizon provided the perfect setting to the perplexity in my mind. The former were reaching their nests for a night’s rest while the latter although looked like retiring to bed was in fact going for another shift of work. “When will my thoughts reach their nest? Will they find a shape or keep going around like the Sun?” I mused.

Suddenly, a heavy South Westerly wind caught me unawares and almost dislodged me from my seat. I looked towards  the sky as if by reflex and saw that the snow white clouds were also being dislodged from their place and were wafting all over the sky in an aimless fashion. “You are like my thoughts” saying so I tried to establish a connection with the clouds. “No” there came an emphatic reply. “We are different from your thoughts. We do float light and aimless alright but, that is when we are still in the process of gathering might. Once we have enough of our collection, we condense and give it a definite shape”.

“That is really nice. How do you manage to do it” I asked.

There came a loud thunder from above as if the clouds were having a mighty laugh at my seemingly innocent question. “Look at us” they said in unison. The wind stopped as if by magic; the white clouds changed into jet black colour; the sky looked as if a black carpet was spread over it and it started pouring heavily. “See, that is how we do it. Collect, condense and deliver. You can also do it”

I was still perplexed and the solution didn’t seem easy. “I do not have the assistance of the south westerly winds to make my thoughts condense and deliver. Will you please help me?”I asked.

“You do not require South Westerly winds. You be the wind underneath your thoughts, rise high, negotiate the hurdles successfully and help them reach their destination. Right now, you are not allowing the thoughts to gain strength to be able to surmount the obstacles and take a shape” said the clouds.

“How do I make my thoughts strong? I was under the impression that I am good at giving a perfect shape to my thoughts. What you are saying is something strange to me” I cried aloud.

“You are right. This is exactly the perplexity you mentioned a while ago. While you are able to give shape to few of your thoughts, the ones which really matter, like the rain bearing clouds are still floating lightly in your mind. Rein them, put in order, nurture, give wings and help them rise above the obstacles of disbelief and uncertainty. Let those thoughts which bring your life to fruition be the foremost in your mind. The rest will take a cue and rejuvenate themselves” the clouds went ahead.

“Is it not a tall order? I need your guidance to find those thoughts which bring my life to fruition. Will you please help me?" I do not know whether the words came out of my mouth or not but was sure that the clouds heard them because lightened they were by giving shape to their contents, they drifted happily over the clear sky and seemed to wave at me with a hidden message.

“What could the message be?” I thought and kept looking at the sky. The birds chirping happily and heading towards their nest; the Sun going to brighten another horizon and the happily drifting clouds seemed to tell me that “Each one has to find his own Way”.

"The Sentinels"

Very early in the morning, when even the birds have not started stirring in their nests.

I woke up as if someone shook me up from deep slumber, made my way into the kitchen, prepared a large mug full of tea, went to the backyard of my house and settled in the iron swing placed there. I took few hearty sips of tea, was completely awake and started melting into the surroundings.

A gentle breeze was blowing and the trees around my house were swaying their heads merrily. The night queen plant in the backyard was adding flavor to the beauty of the divine hour by its fragrance. The clouds were moving in slow motion and were playing hide and seek with the moon. It seemed as if the plants which are cared with lots of love are beckoning me to rise and see what they have to offer me this morning; freshly blossomed flowers. They are ever willing to contribute their might in my prayers to the God almighty by giving flowers of varied hues, colors and fragrance.

“Beautiful” I thought. Lost I was in my thoughts; I did not know when I finished my tea. It was a trance which was disturbed by some odd sound coming from top of the swing. I got up and found that a branch of the tree in the backyard was rubbing against the canopy of the swing, making a rhythmic sound. “It must be praising the beauty of the morning in its own way” I thought.

I looked at the tree lovingly and felt a voice coming from it “Do you recognize me? I was brought by you as a small sapling more than two decades ago and was planted here”.

“ Yes. I do remember.I brought three saplings, planted two in front of the house and you in the backyard. You were tiny little ones and required lot of protection and care. You loved every moment of my being with you and swung your heads in return. When I touched your leaves, I could feel your warmth flowing into me. You withered when I was away from home for a few days and came to life on my return. There you are now very tall and handsome”. I stood in the semi darkness and spoke as if there was a human being in front of me.

“I am happy that you remember every detail. I will tell you something more. You used to come near us and say that we are the sentinels of this house. Someone who protects the house and its inhabitants from all weathers; someone who stands guard when all are asleep; someone who is no less in feelings than human beings. We love you and will be besides you always” so said the Sentinel. “One more thing; you cannot bear even a leaf being broken out of us” it added.

“Thanks for recounting my feelings. It is very nice of you. You have been by my side for more than two decades and I feel as if it is a complete life time. I feel complete with you. Your bright green color keeps my eyes glowing; your branches upon which many birds build nests, take rest and sing in praise are my support systems; the tiny rain drops which fall from your leaves are a sign of life being handed over by the Heavens to the Earth; the cool breeze and shade being given by you when summers are at their height is a great relief to us; I can sing in praise of you endlessly, yet find it incomplete”. The words just came straight out of my heart.

My conversation with the sentinel was broken by a loud chirping of the birds on the trees. I raised my head and saw light golden yellow rays coming from the Eastern skies, signaling “Another Day; Another Way”.

“My dear Sentinels” I said loudly “Keep doing the good job”.

As if to say that they are in agreement, “The Sentinels” raised their heads and showered happiness upon me with a rush of cool breeze.

 

"My Old House"

The monsoons have set –in and it rained heavily today. I had come back home after a satisfying teaching session, enjoyed my siesta and on waking up was welcomed by the sweet smell of the parched earth and  heavy rain. I sat amongst the greenery of my verandah with a large mug of tea in my hand and head filled with thoughts.

I was lost in my reverie when large drops of water started falling on me. Lost I was in praising the nature for its selfless service; I did not take note of the drops and became aware of them only when their intensity increased. I looked up in anticipation to see the heavens opening up above me but saw that the drops were falling from the ceiling. “The rain water drain must have got clogged” I thought and went up to the terrace. I found that the terrace was full of water, went near the opening of the drain and saw plenty of dried leaves and dust have blocked the pipe. Though it was raining heavily, I cleaned the drain, channelized the water into it and came down satisfied with the job.

I changed into dry clothes, took my favourite seat in the verandah and sighed “my house has become old”. As if I was speaking to someone I said “it is more than three decades old and needs lot of maintenance. There is seepage, it needs painting, is in urgent need of electrical, sanitary, carpentry and hardware works. In these days of cost explosion it will cost a fortune and I have decided to manage and not change anything”

“What about the Soul of your House”? I heard a loud, clear voice and felt an invisible face staring directly into my closed eyes. I was shaken up from my deep thoughts and concentrated on the voice. “What about the Soul of your House”? It asked again and gave a big smile. The smile was beguiling and I knew that there was something more than the smile.

The voice continued “how do you feel when you enter your house? Do you look for its physical appearance or are connected to something inner? Did you ever think that your house has a soul? Were you ever connected to its soul? If yes, how did you feel?”

I was enamored with the volley of questions and an entire new horizon started opening up in front of me; a horizon full of brightness and divinity.

I closed my eyes, went into myself and started experiencing the radiance, positive vibrations and the Soul of my House. The soul of my House welcomed me into its fold with love and said “I am ever bright, ever new, ever fresh and will more than make up for the oldness in my external appearance. Sit back, relax, connect to my Soul and enjoy the bliss. Sitting in my precincts, you will realize your own self and the divinity within you”

“Is it the Soul of my House which made it possible to connect to my Soul”? I wondered. While thinking so, I saw the invisible face still smiling at me and a question came out of me involuntarily.

“What about my old and ailing body? I suffer from many illnesses which are chronic in nature and seem to be taking their toll slowly. My appearance is fast changing and I can do very little about it”

“As rightly said by you, very little can be done about your external appearance but, there is a lot that can be done about your soul. Keep it healthy, shining and beautiful”.

I wanted to say something more but, the invisible face and the voice had vanished and so was the rain.

“Was the rain, God sent to bring home a lesson” I wondered and continued my inner journey.

"The Pilgrimage"

Just a few days ago, I concluded a pilgrimage that lasted for a fortnight. Setting foot on the soil where divine souls lived, ruled, meditated, preached and spread knowledge amongst the mankind, I felt humbled and thanked the God almighty for blessing me with such an opportunity. Though the entire landscape had undergone many changes from the times of those great souls to the present day, there was something in the soil, the trees, the water, the air and everything around that clearly made an impact on me.  It will not be an exaggeration to say that throughout my stay in those holy places, there was a distinct vibration in me that steered me clear of the mundane human existence and took me closer to “Self Awareness”.

Looking back at the pilgrimage and the spiritual journey I had undertaken, a strong feeling comes from within me and questions “was it I who traversed such a path? Can it be done often? How can I retain the imprint and carry it forward?”

Those fifteen days were spent as if my external self did not exist. I took in everything around me like a hungry man devouring all the food kept in front of him and fed to my soul. I started becoming aware of my inner self radiating with new energy and brightness. “Did it show on my face as well?” I wondered. “Must be” I mused.

The waters of the holy rivers I bathed-in seemed to have touched my heart and soul. The mighty rivers, which for ages have been the symbols of civilization, spirituality, succor and sustenance welcomed me into their fold and touched me with love. I was overwhelmed with joy and reverence when I stepped into their waters, took holy dip and offered prayers to the Sun God. While doing so, I saw images of all the holy and divine souls who lived on the banks of those rivers with their countenance full of brightness and wisdom. I felt as if they were beckoning me to rise above myself and take the inward journey; a journey of purification; a journey of soul search and a journey in search of the divine.

One such river, flowing gently from atop the mountains through groves of mighty trees overwhelmed me visually and spiritually. The river and its surroundings were once the abode of a great sage. A divine soul left the comforts of his kingdom to uphold Dharma and lived on its banks for years. The water was crystal clear with many innocent fish playing merrily. A sense of peace dawned upon me when I stepped into the river and I succeeded to a great extent when I tried to be one with the sanctity of the place.

Towards the end of our pilgrimage, we halted for a night in a thick forest which was the abode of all the sacred souls. It was the place where the religious ceremonies and rituals were taught and I was deeply connected to each and every grain of the soil. Going around the place, I was transported into another age and another world; the forest echoing with holy chants, holy souls endeavoring to bring peace and welfare to the mankind and the Gods paying homage to the divine souls residing on the Earth.

Back to my home on the conclusion of the pilgrimage, I sense a peaceful calmness surrounding me. I find myself mentally traversing the length and breadth of all the places I visited and relive the impact the pilgrimage had on me. While my mind recalls the places and people, my heart relives the feelings and my soul goes on to remind me that I need to consistently emerge out of my external self and embark upon self purification.

“How many more pilgrimages do I need to undertake before I am fully purified?” I ask myself.

“With the insight and strength gained on this pilgrimage, undertake an inward journey, get to know self and purify your soul. Then you are ready for the ultimate journey and pilgrimage”. So I heard, making me wonder whether it was my inner self or a divine soul which beckoned me to rise above self.

  

"My Grandfather"

I did not have the fortune of seeing even one grandparent of mine and used to wonder as to how it would have been if at least one of my grandparents lived till I was a toddler.  My thoughts lead me into visions; of me running up to my grandparent into his or her outstretched arms; clinging as if to be shielded from imaginary evils; play and run around in the court yard; be pampered; sleep besides him or her and listen to stories; be taken into a world of fantasy; be fed and cared; so many things which my heart can feel and my mind envision.

My memories go back to our small village and my childhood friends. Some of my friends were fortunate to have grandparents and I used to see them tagging along their grandparents on the only street our village boasted of. The grandparents used to keep an eye on their grandchildren while they played and had some homemade snack to offer on their way back home. Holding the hands of their grandparents, my friends used to beam with joy and go home skipping and hopping.

 I, who did not know the joy of knowing a grandparent was away from such happiness till the time I met my Grandfather on a summer afternoon nearly four and half decades ago. It was a hot summer afternoon and a nap was justified. I lay on the floor of our hall and must have dozed off for quite some time. After what seemed to be infinity, I opened my eyes, looked up at the ceiling first and then behind my head.

The Image. Sitting near my head was an image of a very tall man, clad in white clothes  and seemed to be blessing me in some manner. I could hardly see his face but could make out that he is an old man with a benevolent face.

I got up with a start and turning backwards tried to locate him but he was gone.  Though his image vanished, the scene was permanently etched in my heart, mind and soul.

“Could he be My Grandfather? Did he come to give me a glimpse of my grandparent so that the longing in me ceases? Did he appear to say that I have someone who takes care of me from above and that there is nothing to worry?”

There were many questions cropping up in my mind but, I could hardly find any answers. For the next four and half decades, I got busy in career, family and self education so much so that I did not try to find answers to the above questions.

The Connect. Recently, during my early morning connect sessions, I saw the image appear again and it kept appearing continuously thereafter. One day, the more I looked at it, the clearer it became I exclaimed with joy “Grandfather”.

The image nodded its head with a big smile on its face and kept looking at me; its warmth radiating an unknown energy in me; the love in the eyes making me forget that I never saw any of my grandparents; its touch taking me back to my childhood. I could envision myself playing with my grandfather, running around our ancestral house, around coconut and banana trees, accompanying him wherever he went, cuddling up to him and being pampered.

As if understanding what is going in my mind, My Grandfather asked me “would you like to do all those things now”? I looked at him in surprise and said “yes” gleefully.

He took my hand, made me get up from my sitting posture and started walking. I felt as if I was walking on thin air and the surroundings seemed to be pleasant and new. I tugged at his hand as if to ask where we were going. He turned around and said “into a world unexplored; unaware; where you will be left with me and me alone. Enjoy the bliss”

“Will you be gone as happened in the past”? I asked.

“No. Call me from your inner self and I will appear. I am with you, within you  and will be forever”.

All of a sudden, as if thinking aloud I said “What if I want to see you as a grandchild of mine and play with you as a grandfather? Can the roles be switched?

The Higher Level.“Certainly. Its not the role which matters but the love and affection with which it is played. You can see me in whatever form you want to”. So saying, My Grandfather moved into a higher level beckoning me to follow.

 

"The Cloud Burst"

It was a surprise that heavens should shower few rain drops on the parched earth on a summer night. I had just gone to bed the night before, when the mother earth started giving out sweet fragrance as a symbol of joy; the joy of receiving blessings from the clouds.

I kept on lying on the bed and waited in anticipation of a heavy shower. It materialized very soon and the rain drops started falling slowly and steadily. 

It was a welcome change and I could not resist the temptation to go on to the terrace and catch a glimpse of the summer guest. The rain was gathering momentum by the time I reached the terrace. I pulled a chair and sat under the open sky. Thick dark clouds were looming large over the sky and were making their presence felt through loud thunder and bright lightening.

All of a sudden, the clouds burst at their seams and emptied themselves to their heart’s content. I kept looking at the clouds, sat on the chair all through the “Cloud Burst” and was fully drenched.

 “Are you happy that you have lightened your heart’s burden?”I asked the clouds.  “Yes. We are” was the answer.

I was taken aback when the clouds asked me “You also must be feeling light since you also unburdened yourself”.

“Who? Me? What have I got to unburden? I was just watching you burst in joy and shower  your gifts on the parched earth” I replied.

“Then, why were you sobbing?”The clouds asked me.

“No. I wasn’t. It must be the sound of the thunder”. I replied.

The clouds smiled and asked another question “What is that which is rolling down on your cheeks”?

“It must be the rain water” I said.

The clouds laughed loudly and said “The rain water doesn’t taste salty. We can make out from your lips that the water rolling down your cheeks is salty. Your parched lips bear testimony. Were you not crying”?

I had no way of escaping from the truth and simply said “yes”. It was with great difficulty that the words left my parched lips.

The clouds were in an upbeat mood and asked another question “May we know the reason for your getting drenched in the rain and unburdening your heart”?

When I spoke, I found myself opening up. “With the rain water, I was cleansing myself of all the mistakes; both committed and perceived; both intentional and unintentional; and since God has not gifted me to shower sweet rain drops on my parched lips, my heart, while unburdening itself has gifted me salty water.  Even if it is salty, I am savoring it since it is my own”

The clouds nodded their heads and said “is that the reason for a big smile on your face? May we know why a smile under these circumstances?”

“I am smiling at myself” I said as if to deviate from the topic and asked the clouds “now that you have unburdened yourself what will you do further”?

The clouds said “during the summer we go out into the hot Sun, gather water and preserve it for our beloved earth and its precious children; during spring, we shield the flower beds from heat and dust; during the long wintry nights we hang around the warm houses to keep them more warm; and you already know what we do during the rainy season; we give back everything and bring smiles on the faces of all the living creatures”

It was a perfect narration, which brought me back to my smiling self and I said “Please take me with you my dear clouds; make me light and help me take flight”

Snippets from Life -- "A Nobody"

 

“Why call it Snippets?  The closest meaning of this is bits and pieces and I hope you do not wish to call your work as bits and pieces” My mind asked me.  There was a faint smile on my face when I said “After all,  our lives when viewed from a broader perspective are bits and pieces and I do not mind calling my work as Snippets” My voice rang loud and clear and seemed to have disturbed the early morning silence.

Heavy Feet. Just then there was something else which disturbed the silence and it was the sound of footsteps. It was the sound of feet being dragged as if they are carrying enormous weight and have no strength left to be lifted and placed ahead. I hear this sound everyday and through a clearing in the thick leaves of the creepers in my balcony, see the person to whom the feet belong. The sight is always discomforting; the feet belong to an old man in tattered clothes, carrying a large bag over his shoulders, collecting rags and moving from one street to another.

Today, I decided to follow him as he went about his routine; walked behind him from one street to another; saw him rummage through the garbage cans; stuff the waste in the large tattered bag over his slender shoulders and move in silence. He wore a disturbing silence around him except for the sound of his feet. It was still dark and I could not see his face or feet clearly. My mind nevertheless went ahead in spite of the darkness and started imagining ; of his background;  of the circumstances he faced in life; what made him a rag picker; his support systems and last but not the least the question whether he has any kith and kin or is alone.

By this time, the old man stopped near a tea stall by the corner of the street, put down the large bag and squatted on the floor. The tea stall opens early in the morning; for the morning walkers and the people who wait for the bus in the nearby bus stand. As I was still thinking about the old man, the man in the tea stall handed over a cup of tea to him as if it was a daily routine. Looking beyond the horizon, the old man accepted the cup of tea and started sipping it silently. The silence was becoming unbearable to me. I asked for a cup of tea for myself and moved closer to the old man. He looked up at me and that was the time I saw his face clearly.

Bright Face. His face was in contrast to his feet; bright; a big smile on the lips; sparkling eyes. It was such as to beget lot of respect automatically.  I do not know what made me do so but, I found myself placing a hand over his shoulder and he looked up at me in surprise. I gave him a friendly smile, ordered another cup of tea for each of us and sat next to him.

He continued to look at me in surprise as if he was unable to understand the reason for my friendliness. Even the man in the tea stall looked surprised. “I am interested to know about you” I found myself asking the old man. Surprise turning into disbelief, he merely said “about me?” I nodded my head and focused all my energy towards him.  It took some time for him to get over the disbelief and speak the first syllable which was no more than an incoherent murmur.  “I am a nobody.  I have shed my external form and have become a nonentity”.

The philosophical note in the answer surprised me and I could not believe that such an answer can come from a person who to the outside world is a rag picker. “What is he referring to? Is he something beyond what meets the eyes”?

A Nobody. Unmindful of what I was thinking, he went on in his rumbling voice as if a flood gate has been opened. “There were times when I thought that my external form was all pervasive and was on an endless external voyage; without an anchor; let the wind dictate the terms; sails following wind as an obedient servant. At times, I was stuck in midstream because there was no wind. I didn’t know which way to go. But, it slowly dawned upon me that I am the wind to my sails, that it is within me and not outside.  Ever since then, it is a different voyage. In fact, it is a journey; not in my external form but in an unfathomable inner self. That is when I shed my external form and became a nobody”.

It was as if I was hit by a ton of bricks. I was unable to say anything and could only mutter “Then why a rag picker’s form”? He smiled as if he knew what was coming and said “I am cleansing and purifying my soul”.

As if he finished what he had to say, he got up and moved away dragging his heavy feet slowly.

"Scope for Improvement"

It was my usual English class yesterday and I was observing the performance of a student in reading practice.  The “observations or comments” session was towards the end during which I recollected the sequence I used to follow during my training programmes at colleges. First the students used to comment on their own performance, then rest of the class and me at the end.

There is Scope for Improvement. One common observation by everyone used to be “There is Scope for Improvement”. I too used to say the same to almost everyone and talk about the need to strive hard in future for continuous improvement. The session over, I returned home and did not think about it till today’s morning.

During my early morning “Connect Session” today, I unknowingly kept on repeating the words “there is scope for improvement”. With eyes closed and focus turned inwards, I kept repeating the words till it became a chant.

Is there any Scope for Improvement in me? The chant was so powerful that it took over all my faculties and made me question myself.  “Is there any scope for improvement in me”? I asked myself. “Yes. There was and is plenty”. The reply was instantaneous.  Inward looking as I was, the answer was no surprise to me and I started bringing in front of me pictures, events, relationships, habits  and conversations of the past as well as the present. As I went through them dispassionately, it indeed was a revelation.

“In The past;

My meager efforts to connect with self and the God Almighty,

Speak about the immense scope for improvement in my inward journey;

There must have been scope for improvement in the way I looked after my family,

But, it was never expressed by them because of their love and respect for me;

What I gave back to the society must have fallen short by miles,

But, it was never revealed to me out of decency;

I must have fallen wayside in cementing relationships;

But, never spoken by my near and dear ones as they did not want to hurt me;

When I think about the disturbance caused to others by my habits,

Talking and laughing loudly,

Shaking hands too strongly,

I sense the scope for improvement,

once again it was never mentioned by others  as a sign of solidarity"

The list goes on and on but, I decided to stop it for now and concentrate upon what is to be done in future.

“Going forward;

I resolve to speak slowly, smoothly and only when required,

Conserving time and energy to connect with self and the God;

Make forgiveness a habit and forget what and who caused me pain;

Reach out to those, whom I might have hurt,

And vow to not to repeat;

Cleanse all the filters; be transparent and calm;

Give back to the society in good measure,

And help the needy with pleasure”.

Twilight; the Connect. I agreed with my inner self and assured it that I will live up to its expectations. However, I had one question to ask “Why did you not take me on this path when I was young and had plenty of life ahead to make amends? I am almost at the twilight of my life and I feel that I need to work double time to achieve my goals”. It answered with a broad smile “Be happy that you are on this path at least now. Imagine how bad you would have felt if it was delayed further”

I nodded in agreement and I heard it say “Raise and Shine”

"My Father - My Guide"

With the untimely rains lashing for the last two days, there was a nip in the air when I walked into my balcony early in the morning yesterday. It felt as if winter has set in and I went up onto the terrace for a stroll. The huge trees surrounding my house were swinging their heads as if they were welcoming the morning and the immense possibilities it brings in. Amongst them are a few coconut trees whose branches fall onto the terrace. I have a habit of touching them fondly and remember my childhood in coastal Andhra which is abundantly blessed with greenery and coconut groves.

Yesterday, my memories went beyond the coconut trees and drew images of me going to the fields with my father. I must have been ten years old then and made it a habit to tag along my father to the fields in the afternoons. This must be because my father used to travel a lot and his stay at home was intermittent and short. Hence, I did not want to miss any chance of being with him.  

One image which is very strong is that of our returning home in the twilight. My father used to be in the lead walking along small raised pathways between two sections of a field with a basket full of grass on the head and a bag of vegetables in one hand. I used to cling on to his other hand and be guided through hard soil, freshly tilled earth, fencing made of thorny bushes and water gushing out of bore wells. I used to take pride in using his towel as a turban, hold sickle in one hand and imagine me becoming a big farmer. My face used to beam with happiness when we enter the village since that was the time when my friends could see me along with my father. Reaching home, I used to have hot water bath, be fed by my mother, snug closely to my father and fall off to sleep.

Why are these images coming in front of me now? Am I missing my father or something else? As I think deeply, I feel that the reason is I am longing for that guiding hand once again. After having left the guiding hand for the last five decades, a strong feeling about the happiness and security I felt in the presence of my father engulfed me.

As I sat on the terrace deep in my thoughts, I felt someone touching my shoulder caringly. I heard a voice saying “don’t you ever think that the guiding hand has left you. In fact, it was and is with you. I was with you in thick and thin and will always be” I sat in silence for a while and asked “why did I feel that the guiding hand is no longer with me? Why am I longing for it now? Why didn’t I feel so in the last fifty years?”

“You were too busy with education, career, family and had little time to think about you being guided by me. Now that you have some time on your hands, your life is unwinding in front of you and showing images of the things which were and still are very important to you. I must say that you are lucky. You are able to see those images and make meaning out of them”. It was a revelation for me and I nodded in agreement.

The voice went on “Come into my fold and unfold.  You have a lot to share and learn. There is a world beyond this world with things unknown to you. Let me guide you through the world within you and the world beyond. Hold my hand with the same trust, belief and faith with which you held it five decades ago.  Close your eyes and follow me”. I felt the hand tighten on my shoulder and then release the grip. When I closed my eyes, I saw myself being guided by my father on a different path into a different world.

"The Home"

It was one of those early morning hours when I sat in my “Little Heaven”, made myself comfortable and started the inward journey to enter “The Home”. Soon after I closed my eyes and started the journey, I saw an old man in front of me, smiling and nodding his head as if he is welcoming me. When I looked at him enquiringly, he said “what took you so long to come back? You are not to be seen on this path as often as you used to be earlier”.

The above words struck me hard and I speeded up my inward journey to find answers. The old man followed and kept looking at me as if he expected an answer then and there.  I was just about to reach “The Home”; a place where I find solace; a place to contemplate; a place to connect with self and the almighty. Then he stopped me and demanded an answer.

“I think I lost my way for a while”. I was surprised by my own answer. “Did I really lose the way? Is it possible that I could not find the way to my own inner self? If yes, where was I going?” The old man kept smiling at me when the above questions were gushing out of my mind like an unstoppable current.  He seemed to know my mind and even the answers.

His countenance shining brightly, he patted my back and said “You were lost in things external; were so much preoccupied with mundane day-to-day happenings that you forgot to rise yourself above your own self. That is why the inward path upon which you used to travel everyday seems to be new today”

The old man’s words struck a chord in me and I folded my hands in reverence. His smile grew broader and he said “once you start travelling on the inward path and visit “The Home”, you need to develop the resolve to be away from all distractions; let  the journey become your  second nature till you become the journey itself”.

So saying, the old man vanished and I found myself at “The Home”; a home which is very close to my heart and mind; a home which I need to be connected to throughout my waking and sleeping hours. With the above firmly resolved, my joy found no bounds and I could see myself going up and down the path with renewed energy and child like happiness.