Hermetically Sealed?

Once upon a time lived a young hermit; his whole day was spent on contemplating the greatness of God. He appreciated each part of the day as we would appreciate a framed painting; he smelt the fragrance of nature at different times of the day and wallowed in it; he tasted the fruits and savoured each taste –salt, sour, sweet et al; he heard the sound of the gurgling stream, the song of the birds, the cacophony of the hawks and the crows, the rustling of the leaves, the patter of the raindrops , the whoosh of the wind....; he touched the velvet softness of the new grass, the rough scales  of the tree bark, the downy feathers of the birds  and the furs of animals. 

He was happy or so he thought... After years of spending such a wonderful life he thought he would venture out into the world and answer the many questions that always troubled his mind. He always saw many creatures of the same kind but never saw any of his kind and this disturbed him. He did know that God made him but why did he leave him in this lovely place? He wondered whether his reason for existence was purely to enjoy or did it have some other hidden quest?  He always noticed that everyone was busy eating, searching for food looking after their off- springs, protecting their home but he did none of these. His life was pure blissful joy. No responsibilities or onus rested on him!

He began his quest for knowledge with a minimum of baggage. He had a stout stick and the clothes he wore and a sickle to cut any fruits for his food. He walked for many days and reached a mountain pass. He looked down at the valley below and took deep breaths of the beautiful panorama spread below him. He saw huts and houses and well-manicured fields and smoke spires coming from the roof tops of the huts. The sun was setting and the whole valley was bathed in its golden glow. He felt a sense of infinite happiness suffusing his soul and he almost ran down to this lovely place.

He was hungry as he entered the limits of the little village. He saw lovely ripe fruits hanging on the trees and he reached up and plucked the fruit and bit into it. The owner of the orchard came running out and gave him a whack and jabbered at him. He was stunned! He did not understand what was it that confronted him; here was a creature of his kind yet he behaved like he did not know him. He gestured telling him in his own tongue that he was hungry and needed the fruit. This made the owner furious and he dragged him to the centre of the village. 

I don’t think I need to tell you what ensued! The process of law and justice went into full swing and the poor man was thrown into a locked cell. The trauma and pain and anguish the man went through were unimaginable. He who did not know what pain was- was being subjected to it with the whole gamut of negative emotions. He felt the pain as a baby does when he cuts his first tooth!

Did he venture further into the new world? Did he go on in spite of all the pain? Did he find what he had set out to? Are a set of questions that I leave you to answer. If you were him, what would you have done? 

Knowledge, any kind of it always brings pain. That’s the rule of nature. Because knowledge brings awareness and awareness is the acceptance of something which is alien to us at that moment.  It’s like falling down because we did not walk properly or like burning our finger because we did not know that fire burns.

Should we then stick to our own Utopia and be happy and satisfied with what we have? This is a personal question and each of us has our own personal answers. I have met many people in the course of my vagrant life who have felt sorry for me-as I have not stayed in the place that I was born in. They seem so happy and settled that I have been envious of them (Especially when I was a child). 

My position is almost an antithesis of the hermit. I have always lived surrounded by knowledge and the itch that it brings along with it! But I have my own similarities with him too. I have been satisfied and content with my desire for knowledge not for personal gain but for its sake alone.

I am at a point in my life where I have left time far behind and the only thing in front is a jumble of roads all seemingly impassable – yet I must battle through them. The question is which of the thorny roads I must cut through to reach my goal of Moksha! Is my fate as imprisoned as that of the hermit in the story or shall I or can I let a few bacteria enter into my cosmos?

 

Monkey Capers!

Yikes! I shut the bedroom door with a bang. I had effectively locked myself and my two-year-old daughter inside the guest bedroom. We were on the fourth floor of the apartment and the only way out was through the window which was unfortunately barred! Remember there were no cell phones those days. To access the phone for help I needed to go to the living room.... There were two beds in the room and my sewing machine. I knew it was a matter of minutes before the baby would be hungry and I didn’t even have a bar of chocolate with me. If I hollered for help no one would hear me, so I waited....

Both of us were terrified, I because I knew what was there and Chiqui because she didn’t know what was there! We could hear the pots and pans being thrown down and cupboards being opened and shut- I shuddered ... Chiqui was so terrified that she forgot to be hungry! After what seemed like eons (actually it was a mere ten minutes!) there was silence; I waited for another five looooong minutes before I cautiously opened the door and peered out – the cushions of the sofa were strewn all over the carpet and the balcony door was open. I carried Chiqui with me hoping to escape from the main door, which was wide open too and tiptoed out, but the silence followed me.

I found the biscuit packet intact, gave it to the baby, put her in our bedroom (This had been untouched) and latched it. Brave me! Then I went creeping towards the kitchen- what a mess! I looked everywhere and realised that the miscreant had disappeared. Like shutting the stable doors after the horses had bolted, I swiftly rushed around and closed all the balcony doors and my main door too and released Chiqui from the bedroom!

The little devil had overturned the flour from its bin; scattered the sugar all over the floor; all the masala bottles had either been smashed or strewn all over! The kitchen floor was resplendent with all hues, red, yellow, white, brown and what not! The fellow had opened the refrigerator and eaten all the eggs neatly but had spread the shells very aesthetically. I was in tears that day and my poor baby couldn’t understand what the problem was – for her it was a lovely mess!

 

My parents had told me that when I was few months old, I had been put on the seat of the open jeep for a moment, outside a temple. I believe a monkey came from somewhere and was in the process of carrying me off when my father saw this and bribed the monkey to give me back in exchange of a few bananas (See my worth!).

Whenever I have gone to the zoos, temples or tourist spots they have troubled me. Either they run at me with teeth bared or they want whatever I am eating or they just give me funny looks! I remember one of them stole my bottle of Coke and drank it (I was very thirsty but too scared to do anything!)

I have numerous stories of the atrocities they have committed on me! But there have been exceptions....

In college I had a friend who had this habit of going to the Hanuman temple in Delhi every Tuesday and Saturday. She was in a different college; I was in the north campus and she was in the south campus, so we used to meet at this temple, which was right in the center of Delhi, near Connaught Place. I followed her around mimicking whatever rituals she performed. Like all Hanuman temples this one was filled with monkeys. The strangest thing was they never troubled me; they did ignore me but they never came near me. 

After this small dedication to the Monkey God for a period of five years my ape friends have left me alone. But a big “but” is whenever the God wants me to visit him, he send his missionaries to remind me that it’s high time I visit him again. I make it a point to do so. I visit him whenever I go to any temple. I even have a small idol of him at home. He is at peace and so am I!

By the way I love bananas!

 

Affaire de Heart

Hi Bloggy!  it’s been a long while that I have spoken to you. I have been kind of busy with this and that! Being disciplined is a difficult task and when I get a chance, like the river, I meander in the easiest path possible...

I had been to visit my beloved mountains; I was resuming my affaire de heart after quite a long gap. I have always had a long-distance relationship – I go for holidays to the mountains but I live either in the plains or near the sea! I have talked of this before but would like to reiterate that going up, literally gives me a kind of high which no wine or rum can! 

Anyone who knows me should consciously or unconsciously realise that I am the happiest when I am alone with and in the mountains. Have you just tried to walk on the roads in the mountains with the clouds swarming around you like an affectionate kitten? Have you felt the clean, clear breeze wrapping you in its freshness? Have you tried to just sit down on a bench overlooking a cliff and breathing in all that beauty spread before you?

As I grow older and I know I have a limited time before me I want to cram myself with all the knowledge possible(I wish I had done this in school!) I want to know and question, to know history, philosophy and to some extent science. I know my limitations though – I can never understand finance (I do know how to spend money!) So my trip gave a lot of insight into all these subjects but when I reflect on the holiday, the best part was when I stood on the cliff savouring the scenes unfolding- the clouds raced below me giving me glimpses of a real world in an unreal setting.

Photographs are wonderful catalysts to jogging ones memory but it can never capture those emotions which you felt at that moment. Something is better than nothing, one does appreciate the snaps years later but for me it’s like a body without a soul! I depend on my fading memories!

 

Human beings are unique. We are all the same physically and we have survived all these years due to the fact that we adapt to nature (sometimes change nature to suit us).

I wonder how people can live on pasta and pizza. Once I used to love these but now, I appreciate the variety in Indian food. Of course my diet is restricted in the western countries as I do not eat beef or pork. By the time we came back to al Qahira we headed straight to an Indian restaurant!

 I must tell you that I experience religion in a different way. Being Indian I am unconsciously secular. I am not an atheist but I am not an active follower of my religion either. By chance I am in a country where religion is an important part of the daily life and by chance, I had the opportunity to visit the most important city for Catholics.

 I have this habit of closing my eyes and searching to be one with the maker in all the temples I visit and I have always found that this oneness is possible in lesser-known temples. I had no expectations when I visited the Vatican, I knew it would be a city with beautiful building with priceless works of art but I had no expectations.

We went with Valentina like school children gathering knowledge as if we needed to face an exam on our return! We moved from one beautiful interior to another gazing with awe at the works of the great artists. Then of course the magnificence of the St. Peter’s basilica took my breath away and I looked at the alters ready to take me in but being pre-judgemental I never even tried to find my maker here and I think I missed out. 

It was much later in a little-known church in Sienna, amidst all the people, that I saw the light and I know that here is what I was seeking. The Universe had come to meet me here as it had in a number of places and I felt the calm and the peace that I am constantly searching for.

I have stated that I am not a religious person and so I do not name my God according to a particular religion. For me the consciousness that we exist as body less entities is what my religion and Universe is all about. Like a drug addict, every once in a while, I need to inject myself with similar experiences to keep myself going! Sometimes I get such horrendous withdrawal symptoms that I dig myself a pit where I wallow till I get my ‘fix’.

I have got my ‘dose ‘for the time being and my soul soars with the confidence and strength of my beliefs and all is all right with my world. Amidst the chaos of the whole world- riots, markets collapsing, terrorists- I am still able to smile and look down at the waves crashing against the rocks, knowing that soon all shall be well...