Invitation to the Conscious Men

What am I if I am not my name or social status or a father or a mother or a brother or a friend? Do I know what I’m doing and why I’m doing it when I’m doing it? Why am I here?

My life has started to revolve around these questions more and more as I’ve started to face myself – in front of the mirror, in front of a begging child with no legs, in front of the stray animal that needs me more than I can ever understand. I call this “becoming conscious”. Conscious of myself, my fellow earthlings, the nature, the universe and the laws that govern us. I tend to believe when many a scientists discover something in nature, they aren’t doing it out of necessity. They are doing it out of curiosity that has them spellbound to that one moment when their question will be answered. But did they ever really know the question fully? More often than not, don’t they get more than what they bargained for? That’s nature, the feminine aspect of our existence, that is forever prepared to give to its children. The curiosity however, and the action ensuing it, is masculine – an eternal desire to do, accomplish, prove, manifest. Each feeling within us all has a masculine and a feminine attached to it.

Ever since these parts were discovered, brought forward to our conscious minds and made available for study, it was found that the world has grown incredibly masculine, maniacally power hungry to the point of toxicity that needs urgent attention, to the point that it doesn’t understand the feminine at all. There is a crisis brewing and we don’t know what to do about it at all. And hence, the world today is diving deep into the feminine energy of the planet, tapping into its reserves to find out what it means to truly feel ourselves, our skin, our emotions and remaining true to our most authentic essence.

However this message needs to reach people who are currently unaware of who they truly are. This task has been taken up by a few people, chosen by the spirit itself, and those who’ve made it a goal of their lives to teach masculine and feminine to the world. One amongst those rare ones is Neelam Nanwani. She has extensive experience of teaching the feminine to women and has helped them remind themselves of their feminine essence and helped embody it too. While several have taken up the task of teaching the feminine to the female, she has decided to work with the males too and teach them how to discover and embody their own forgotten femininity.

Here is what she has to say –

“I see most men disconnected from their feminine essence. They may be good intuitively and possess amazing psychic/spiritual gifts but yet each man is unable to emote and EXPRESS what he is truly feeling.

He is Not ok to receive, unable to express his hurt or even love, not ok with chaos or conflict, driven by patriarchal definitions of being a man, unable to Express his heart, his weakness and his vulnerability, he is driven by what society expects of a man to be.

He worships the goddess but truly doesn’t understand Her.

He longs to be a good son, a good father, a good husband… But what is this good? Is it good for his own soul, his own body, his own heart????

His words, actions, doing is all driven by the masculine and that too is also wounded because a man who has not yet understood and integrated the feminine will be a wounded man and will continue operating out of wounded masculine, no matter what.

What goes on in his body and heart? Is he able to voice it fearlessly? Share it with what he is going through and churning with? How difficult it is for a man to share his heart with the other and talk about his feelings and emotions? The only emotion most men understand and embody is anger (many a times).

He is finding answers but is lost not knowing many a times where to look and how to begin. Will he look at the Divine Mother for help and leading the way. Can he truly trust and surrender??

Is a man ok with the unknown and chaos within himself? Can he express to his friend, teacher, acquaintance, client, partner, wife, mother – how incomplete does he feel within and what is that something amiss?

The Divine Mother beckons . Will he listen ? To be guided, to he HELD, to break down, to cry his pain out??

Will he allow?? Will he beckon to my invitation??“

Along with Neelam, I invite all of you to join this incredibly powerful path breaking journey for all men, call to discover your feminine essence and in turn realize our divine masculine too –

Registration Link – Invitation to the Conscious Man

Invitation to the Conscious Man- Dec 12,13,19,20. 4pm to 7 pm IST.

Please share this forward with as many men as you know. We never know when and how and where we plants a seed.

Love And Only Love

Imagine a kingdom; a place well before any boundaries were created; no differences existed; a place where the urge to love ruled; a place governed solely under the solemn promise to protect this habitat – our Mother Earth; a place where everyone existed to support anyone or anything that has fallen; a place where each and every one only worked to be a medium for that higher power that created us; to reach out to the energies of this universe. Every thought that emanated there started from a place of love; a place that mandated us to look after this vehicle created of flesh; a place where the trees, the soil, the water, the fire and the sky reminded everyone of their places in the vast universe and how they needed to love and respect and, needless to say, save the place where they were born; a place where the creator’s voice will be heeded to first and unconditionally. And nothing but love for Mother Earth and its contents came first. Everyone realized that there is a need to respect the power that held our steps together for we understood that it bears our weight, gives and gives, provides for everything selflessly. No animals were killed unless nature required it. No trees were cut unless new ones were planted. If required, only a limited number of trees per year could be cut. There would be no currencies except for deeds of love.

That could be my utopia. But I know it can’t exist. I don’t know and hold enough to know the ups and downs of life on Earth, too many flaws and shortcomings, too many words that can be misconstrued. But I’ve had several messages that human language is flawed.

But what if this is our utopia. What if we’re told by the powers to be that this place was created to be a utopia – a place free of politics and religion. But us, with our penchant to improve things and run towards comfort, disowned the knowledge that our forefathers gained by meditating under the trees. What if the messages they received from our creator were falsified for personal benefits?

Or what if, we were told by our creator that politics and religions are the reasons why our time on Earth is actually a time for our soul to burn in hell. What if we’ve come here to learn our lessons, to live out our years on Earth that count for thousands of soul years. What if we’re told that there are chances that we’ve failed to live out our lessons most of the times and this is the reason we are heading towards our doomsday, a day when Earth will finally reset itself. What if we’re told that this is our destiny and we need to start learning our lessons urgently to finally merge with that single source of energy? What if this is our last and easiest chance to burn our karma and relieve ourselves of pain and suffering forever?

Or what if this is one those stages of evolution when we mandatorily have to go through the tough times? What if we’re told that these times are of transition and that humanity will progress to a higher dimension soon and all those who don’t learn their lessons soon enough, will be left behind? What if that is our doomsday?

No, I don’t believe in the doomsday theory as mentioned by the hilarious “2012” movie. But I do believe, we’re heading towards a time when none of the hatred we’ve created will matter and all those who’ve lived out their lives full of love and have at least tried to do it even during tough times will move on to better places with higher lessons and better chances of merging with God.

When I first started to write this post, and trust me I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, I thought this is going to be my worst post ever for I have no clue about what I’ll write. I’ve never imagined a heaven or hell. Those concepts are nugatory to me. Neither do they fill me with joy nor do they scare me. I believe this time is my time and I need to make it count. I’m carrying a lot of unbeknownst baggage and I’d like to shed it off during this birth inside this vehicle. I’ve been given an extraordinary vessel and it needs to perform as per the creators best wishes. I have no clue what my utopia is. It is possibly when I merge with my teacher beyond my sins that I know I can erase by emanating and spreading love and only love.

 

The Goddess Energy

We’re a swarm,

Created for that one purpose,

To work on that one goal,

To make mistakes,

To love again and again..

To trust the universe,.

To know that it’s the same for all of us,

To be one again,

To meet our maker.

We’re the bees,

We exist for the queen,

We exist to create that one home,

Our hive, our heaven unseen.

We’re different,

And yet are one.

Separated by the mind,

We dug a hole.

Forgot one another,

Forgot we’re the same chi,

To realize that potential,

Our Goddess Energy!

Why The Prejudice?

Our parents love us. They only think the best for us and it’s very natural for them to be protective of us for we are their prized assets. Their lives revolve around us and I’ll forgive them if, during our childhood, they leave us bereft of certain experiences only because they think it’s dangerous. But sometimes what starts as protectionism from parents, if let out of control, ends up culminating into a barrier for us to experience our true being. They try and change things in us without knowing fully the implications it may have on us later.

One such phenomenon in our society is parents trying to change the dominant hands of their children. India is a land of a trillion mesmerizing things and one of them are superstitions. And it is quite natural that some of those fallacies are built around the taboo that is associated to the use of left hand. Let’s take it from the top when the child is born with a dominant left hand. A child is born with no such knowledge and if the behaviour is never interrupted, he may never notice that he is out of ordinary or ominous in any way. Imagine how normal his life would be. However, if he hands over his money with his left hands in our society, he is asked to change the hands first and then give it again, for it is wrong to hand over money with left hands. Now try and concentrate on the dilemma and embarrassment a child would face when he is asked to shy away from the most mundane inclination of using his left hand and he isn’t wrong at all. Superstitions such as below have forever kept as befooled –

1. Performing any ritual with left hand is ominous and God won’t accept your gift. Really? Don’t our religious books say that you are perfect in God’s image of a perfect child? He only asks you to be in gratitude for the gifts he has rendered to you and a left hand is one of them!
2. We’re also deterred from using our left hands to eat or cook and these limitations are most commonly dished out upon females who use kitchens more than men do. It is claimed by various studies that females are lesser prone to be born left handed and so, if ever a female around us is a southpaw; simply observe the uniqueness without judgement and prejudice.

Now recall the Indian hygiene habits in our Indian toilets. Do you think that’s where everything went wrong for Indians who were born left handed and then were forced to change their dominant hand? Wouldn’t correct hygiene habits get us rid of all the dogma? Had some of the famous southpaws been scorned for using their left hand, we wouldn’t have witnessed those Amitabh fight scenes that we whistled on, or Yuvraj’s 6 sixes in an over, or that first over hat-trick by Irfan Pathan against Pakistan. To sum it up, DON’T EVER meddle with the intuition that your child is born with.

An Unbound Rage

That mental cacophony,

That uncompressed yell,

That undulating pain,

The hurt your heart felt,

That sickness in your belly,

Those trembling hands,

Those clenched muscles,

That need to dish out fear,

That sadistic streak,

Those flickering eyes,

Those shallow breaths,

Those pulsating nerves,

That short gulp,

Trigger to a Slur!

 

Sweet Dreams

Go back to sleep
Go back to sleep.

Away from the window, the truth,

The love, the faith, the people.

Watch those sheep jumping, pumping, hurtling rhythmically to the end of the screen and back again.

Count them so you forget the past,

The tormentors, the dictators,

The freedom seekers, the truth lovers.

Let our reality be the one you live,

Let our truth be all you see.

Sleep my baby.

Sweet dreams!

Her Song

Imagine.

A butterfly unfold,

With belligerent glittering wings,

She begins to fly,

Leaving a trail of gold.

Touching the sky at one,

For her limits are none.

Grazing the fall,

Touching the leaves,

Petting the flowers,

Wind blows it to the sea.

She leaps again,

This time, she won’t sway

For she knows her way.

While she heads for the stars,

She knows she can’t look back,

She believes in it now,

There’s no hiding any more,

When she lights the heavens on fire!

Future Haze

It’s always been a mystery to me how people can create their future in their heads and act accordingly now. For me my future is a blur. I’ve always been the reactive kind, dancing to the tunes that life plays for me. I’m so involved in my today that I hardly ever get time to think about tomorrow, bless those who can see others futures too. Is it intuition that they talk about? Or are they simply differently gifted? I believe I am gifted but my gift lies more enjoying my now than going after something that won’t necessarily be there for me as I see it.

Some people tell me that all it takes is knowing yourself better, knowing your preferences and an inclination to act to your whims today. That’s what I do I guess but when I ask questions, they tell me I have to set an intention for whatever I want to achieve? For which material goal should I set an intention for when nothing material interests me any more. My goals are all subjective like attaining total freedom, from the society, from the corporates, to find out what I’m here for and simply go after it.

I guess I need to fill myself with love and abandon all fear to attain what I’m after. Just on course though, to don’t know where, and while I’m at it let me say thanks to all the lessons I’m learning and how I’m being enabled to shed and heal.

Left Handers – The Eccentricity in the Crowd

Let’s admit it – southpaws are attractive! They look so regal when they pick that pen up to sign a cheque or when they pick up a cricket bat and caress that cover drive. Stand across the court to a certain Rafael Nadal (tennis) or Carolina Marin (badminton) and you’ll know you are headed towards an unchartered territory; a territory that you may not be very well equipped to handle as a right hander. You can almost feel a different wave of energy around them. Hold the left hand of a right handed person and then hold the left hand of a southpaw, you’ll notice a certain enigma about the left hander. It’s like a different, unheard and unfelt mode of communication. The touch of a left hander would say a lot, for the way our body is cross-wired – left hand is connected to the right hemisphere of our brain while the right hand is connected to the left hemisphere. And that’s why left handers think and behave differently than others.

Just to let you in on the purposes of the right and left hemispheres of our brain, the right one, that controls the left hand, is the creative and imaginative side aka the feminine side of our personality while the left one, that controls the right hand, is the logical side associated with the actual brainy and masculine functions. Around 13% of the world population is left handed and most of them are genetically gifted with this trait. It’s very easy to find that left handers are exceptional with activities and sports that require hand-eye coordination and are therefore superb at ball sports. People with a dominant right brain are incredibly creative and visual thinkers as well.

Apart from the aura and intimidation that southpaws carry, they also carry something invisible to eyes of a layman – the agony of using items created purely for the use of right handers. Try and observe the tiny objects of daily use and their placement around us and ask yourself this – how would and should this be for a left hander and where would it be placed correctly for him. It is then it’s realized how different and difficult this world is for southpaws. Fortunately though, people and organizations are becoming aware of this and are working towards making their life a tad bit easier. Websites like The Left Hand Shop are creating and sourcing plethora of daily use items for left handers and making them available in India. Check it out, it’s pretty cool actually.

So next time you see a left hander, don’t bore them by asking the same old question –  “Are you a lefty?” Instead just enjoy their demeanor and feel lucky that you are in esteemed company of a gifted individual.

I Promise!

I’ve thanked you guys a lot before and I continue do so for having loved and visited my sacred home – my blog!

Ever since I started writing here, in this space, I’ve never once thanked my blog itself! The deep connection I have with this place is bearing fruits now. The hundreds of posts – some in context and some out of it, some inebriated or some not so, some happy or some morose, some that intrigued me as well – are my treasure of knowledge and experiences I could share and those that I vow to continue to share with you, my ever so lovely audience!

I write this post, not because I’m nostalgic, but because I’m starting to realize that I’ve never thanked myself enough – to have put my mind, my soul and this body in such precarious situations, to have never thanked them and that the only place that carries most of what I’ve said and done is this blog, making it all the more crucial that I thank this space itself!

During the past few months, since I’ve started to connect to a special place within me, I’ve often come back to this haven to seek answers. I wonder now how true some of the observations still are? And how the hell did I know all that way back then i.e. 3 years ago? And most importantly, how the hell did I dare forget them? Well I know the answer to the last question, because I may have been drunk as hell… probably… well, just kidding!

I am almost on the verge of starting again, to write, to revel in the chatter that my dear readers indulge in, and the love I get for getting creative in my own silly ways. But there are still final hurdles to cross and one of them is – laziness. This just has to go. I have had it with this bugger for it sucks the zest out from my life. I forgot the only reason I started to write was to let myself out, not to please people or give in to their taste but create my own, no matter how bitter it may taste.

I’ve also realized that I have punished myself voluntarily for every lapse in schedule to deliver on my work of art. It distracts me, it hurts me, it handicaps my thinking and morale. I’ve had enough of this lackadaisical attitude and it’s time that I pull my socks up again. My journey to self-discovery had started with this blog. It served its purpose dutifully and honestly but I’ve not been honest to it. And it’s time now to reciprocate all that this place has given me.

There’s no getting out of this promise and nothing must deter me. It’s time to shape up!

 

I’ll Rename Ya – Like it or not!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Flangiprop!.”

All families have a nasty little habit of renaming things and people around them. We do it based on certain special characteristics of the thing or person. I’ve done some renaming myself. I call myself ‘SAM’, my wife ‘BACHCHA’ (meaning kiddo). I renamed my dog and he has plenty of names – ‘BOBO’, ‘DOMBU’, ‘BUCHU’, ‘DEEBO DAABO’, ‘SHREKA’, ‘OMBO’ when his actual name is Shrek.

So… I’ll assign the word ‘Flangiprop’ to my dog dancing with a hoop around his belly. Seems kind of funny… Think about it – Shrek rotating his belly with a hoop around it – ‘Flangiprop’.

The word in a sentence – I saw my dog ‘Flangipropping’ today!

True Happiness

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lazy Learners.”

I think I may have looked like this guy a couple of times while walking down the streets, metal banging deep into my ear drums – crazy enough that I would just not jump in the air to relieve the rush. It must have started in my toddler years when I started counting beats and moving my wrists and ankles to every beat.

I have no clue when this crazy habit turned into a long held and suppressed passion. Yes, I’m talking about drumming. Yearnings often have a strange way to fill voids around you. They just simply pop up when you are least prepared for them. You’d have no money, no resources, no motivation to start a new chapter. But this is how and when life throws you tests to check if you’re still that kid who’d give anything to hit a six on the first ball of every over, to take a wicket with the first ball that you bowl – to test your zeal.

It came and went by, multiple times – the opportunity to start drumming. I’d have no money or the studio would be far or I’ll simply be lazy enough to not let even an earthquake move me from my bed and each time it felt like I missed a train and with it, the journey to all good and adventurous things. And when I think about it now, all the while I was simply avoiding the journey to start finding myself and my truer purpose.

I have this crazy habit of killing myself and my ambitions before building new ones. It starts with a simple and an insignificant compromise made in the name of benevolence wherein I’ll give my chocolate away or skip a pizza to provide for a cab ride for my wife. You know it’s these kind of things that birth a lackadaisical attitude. I have a tendency to wait for opportune moments to arrive when I’ll best savor the pleasures that I indulge in. But sadly, it has never served me well, or that’s how feel right now – left behind, cowering from the harsh realities of this world.

I’m evolving as all things do. And with it I’m learning the important factor that governs all things – TIME. And as each moment passes me by, this incredible urge to finish all that’s yet incomplete is killing all the patience I’ve accumulated in my 30 years past. It feels that I must miss no train again. And if it means losing something precious, so be it, for all good things that you do for yourself compensate for other good things that aren’t really high on longevity.

So now when I play inside the jamming room and the calf muscles start to burn, I think about all the times I have ditched this pleasure – my pleasure in order to pleasure others. Now I don’t get scared when I hold those two sticks between my fingers. I’m just starting (3 classes young) but the encouragement I get from my teacher is enough to let me return to my home with a well earned smile. This, my friends, is true happiness. Nothing surpasses it!!!

Why So Happy Today?

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Singular Sensation.”

How I wish someone of my taste reads everything I write and tries to know me better. He/She needn’t be a genius. Just a concerned, conforming and an inquisitive person.

I need someone who wants to understand and know the thoughts that occur in my head randomly. They needn’t have the ears but must have the eyes to see through to inside. Every gaze must acknowledge me. It’s not the approval I seek, just a conscious effort to calm a very anxious mind. The nerves that never settle, always need a calming influence. Someone who understands the sweaty palms and the floundering words. The eyes that fail to look into others eyes and the lips that fail to break into a smile.

I just wish for a voice to break into one of my dreams and foretell my path. One that balms every single hurt that pegs me back. Erases the memories of the people who’ve pretended to care for me, never did and never could… simply never had the time. One that makes me forget the people who only remember me on special occasions except for real friends who have my consent to call me when they want to. I just wish for a real well-wisher that can tell me what to do without setting any expectations.

I just wish to laugh again knowing full well that they won’t ask me,”Why so happy today?”

My Shadow of Doubt

I’m a 125 kg man. 6ft in height. Good enough shoulders and a pot belly. In many a countries I’m overweight and some might argue to make me book 2 tickets just for myself to fly around. Just Kidding – I’m not that fat or am I? Don’t know and don’t care.

I can’t care less about my looks. It’s not a case of a scared and suppressed man who’s heard and hates the word ‘Mota’ (Fatso) way more than his own name during the course of his life. Even if the latter part is true, I believe no amount of ragging, nudging, pushing, or loathing can subdue the inner spirit that says nothing is impossible. This is no delusion. There are times though when I think, what it would take for me to prepare for the inevitable, that last ray of light that gets noticed in my head, the moment I realize that I’m eventually unprepared for the worst. How do you prepare for it? In this dynamic world with all sorts of things loose on the streets that can kill you any second, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for the last light or the last night.

I may not know the answers to some questions and yet, I believe that they aren’t tough enough to figure out. I’ve seen enough competitive years to know that the times when you are stuck is nature’s way to bring forth the lessons that you may have missed while dealing with the course that nature itself designed for you. I’ve been chubby and to an extent – fat for my age. I was born heavy, lived heavy and am surviving (rather well) heavy. I hate figuring out the measures of my blood or the proteins or carbohydrates. I hate thinking that I am sick. If I ever am, trust me when I say this, the news WILL fall on deaf ears like it always does. I don’t plan to live long. It’s never at the back of my mind. I don’t like and want the funny things that come with some spectacular end. I don’t want money. As long as I survive on my own, I’m glad to have not bothered a soul with my issues. To those whom I’ve already bothered with my existence, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for being there when I truly needed you for without you, my boat wouldn’t have had the wind it needed to set sail.

So whats the point of this post? I know you’ve all heard this message a trillion times before. However, I’m trying. I’m trying to start believing in the figure I see when I look into the mirror. It’s an exercise some of the new souls in my life are having me do. They say acceptance is the key for me. I want to start a new, reinvigorated and stress free journey, one that fulfils my dreams and mine alone. I don’t see anyone becoming a part of this voyage, for I can’t see far. But I believe that if there is a part wherein another soul has to intervene, they will know their purpose and will only add new meaning and colors to it. Everyone has to start somewhere. I refuse to see this world in the way it comes to me. I see a lot of good happening and this shall forever be my endeavor – to see good for that’s what invigorates me. I will go beyond the damning filth that’s always presented first, to find the truth and whether it’s worthwhile to pursue. I will not stress to find what doesn’t concern me.

I will strive to find what’s right for me and will not be lazy. I aspire to create a vibration, a flow of light that truly defines my purpose (yet unknown). I invite the energies that are destined to become a part of me.

I aspire to erase this shadow of doubt that destroys the purity of my form. I’ll follow my gut.

Bring It On

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Journey.”

The time of hope and persistence, honesty and dread, karma and belief, brought with it a surreal series of change. Break it down – the time into fragments, for each is as magnificent in its own right, a bag full of teachings, shining brightly upon my path. That path and where it leads, I know not.

The all-knowing, all giving power that rises within us in times of desperation – is like lights beside the runway to guide not just the stable but more so, the unstable planes. Nothing teaches us more about ourselves than such times of desperation. I learnt a lot.

Yes I was scared. Yes I was confused. Yes the pain in the heart was ever bearing and the brain, paralysed. Yet every stone that hurt me, only powered me, to go that much further. To look for my destiny. To smile at the sight of the end of the earth and sky, that horizon, which I knew would someday be mine.

Desperation when used properly is possibly the greatest tool we can own. Enough of it makes us fearless, uncaring. It shows us the true strength of our character. It gives us clarity on the decisions we make. It guides us to that juncture where we either rise or fall. It stretches us beyond our limits to possibly achieve the unthinkable, or get us ever closer to that “Eureka” moment.

The simplest formulae to tapping and reaping from even the rough times is to say to yourself – “these trying times are another bundle of opportunities”. And believe in it. Keep repeating it to yourself and condition yourself to just do the right thing, the humane thing. There are a million wolves waiting for your shivering carcass to show through your thinning skin but don’t care, don’t bother. I met my long cherished goal after walking on a daunting and humiliating path that forever shamed my self-respect and yet I rose and came through.

It doesn’t shame me now, to proclaim that I went through the mud to reach that Lotus and the effort I put into it. To have got my hands dirty in a coal mine to get to that Diamond. Life seems so complete now and how I wish it would last forever the same way with no further hiccups but then, that wouldn’t be fun, will it?

Bring it on!

Gimme All That Grass

Amidst these day dreams and winding roads,
The burning asphalt trail,
Dodging this game between sun and shadows,
The fear turns my face pale.
Leaving an inaudible world behind,
I make a screeching right,
To stop and fight.
I end up tricking my anguish and life apart,
The light at the end of my tunnel was now shining bright.
The burden off my back and shoulders to start,
I see the plains and the green that await me open and wide.
Guess this is what they mean when they say,
Grass is always greener on the other side.

My Soul

My world has no discrimination,
No gender,
No color,
No God.
It isn’t bathed in fear –
Of losing,
Of being looked down upon,
Of the unknown.
Of that parasite under the carpet,
Of death underneath that living breathing carcass,
Of running and gunning for that ever elusive prize.
When all that I came in and will leave with,
Is a soul.
A self-nurturing yet powerless form,
Misunderstood and unanswered.
I like to think of these chills as
My soul trying to shrug off the uncertainties,
A way for it to relax in this chaos that embraces my body like skin,
A way for it to absorb the vivid forms and colors of nature,
Air water sun and all.
I like to think of each day as another passing glance,
Over that field of opportunities,
To feed this soul,
To do 1 good thing for that solitary beacon of hope that truly belongs to me,
That one trustworthy mate that teaches you,
The difference between good and evil,
Right and wrong,
Pleasure and pain,
Want and need…
My Soul.

The Dawning Of A New Day

From being an addict to a neat sober life, from being a couch potato to burning my muscles again, from losing my job to regaining one in one of the largest MNCs in India, having to plan for an overhauled life when there’s none left in my soul. I’m fighting  each day and every hour of my existence, for revival of my body and soul. I’m living better, I’m eating better. Striving to host a chapter that powers me to dream of happiness, completeness, an error free foray into being who I want to be. I’m dying to see if I’ve learnt from my mistakes. It’s history repeating itself to test me, break me, shake me, wake me up from my slumber. For the past few months, change has been the only constant.
My attitude has changed. Never once did I think of running away even while perfectly knowing the agony each phase brings with it. For the first time I’m ready to give life a chance to come to me. For the first time I’m giving myself a chance to roll with whatever life dishes out, to fly with the wind, even snowball. Never once did I say “NOW WHAT?”.
In December, they told us to start looking elsewhere for a job for the project here had ended but they’d try to absorb us in. In January they hinted they won’t absorb us for the sake of well-being of both the company and my career. I thought it was a very valid and wise move. I have way too much experience to get absorbed in a team where people of nearly half my experience would work above me only because I didn’t have hands on their technology.
To me though, it gave a chance to get out into the world and to see if I’m any better than the man who joined this company nearly 5 years ago, to test my skills, to gauge my self-worth, yet again. For some adventurous reason, I rather relished this challenge and instantly knew I had to leave for my betterment. Both, the company and I, had realized that moving on was the better option for each of us.
This is the new, aged me. The earlier, the younger me would have tried busting their balls for having sacked me, for I had way to much ego. I’m learning to think past my ego and think of all the betterment that any opportunity brings. I’m letting people stay themselves around me. In short I’m trying and giving up my inner force that made me change people around me. I’m letting them come to me. I’m letting life engulf me in its arms. I’m not afraid of leap-of-faiths anymore. I’m running full seasons, gaining new leaves while shedding the useless and old ones.
Moving to a new city offers me an opportunity to start from scratch again. Not only will it give me a chance to meet new people, it’ll also give my wife a chance to settle down at a place that she knows and loves. We’d together forget the horrors we faced in Delhi. This time we are wiser, capable of paying our bills from day one and free of all debt. Oh yeah I forgot to tell you all, I’m finally free from all debts and it is so relieving. 😀
I’m so passed my past now. While I waited for my offer from my new employer, life also threw me a chance to get even with my past. A chance to understand that I was never wrong, for all I’d done was lose a battle of love. I now know what happened, had culminated to a better today and an even better tomorrow.
This waiting period also threw me a chance to get out of this country for a while and land in a place that has forever intrigued me – United States of America. I got to witness the miracle of a new-born baby. I’m so happy for you brother! I got to see a culture far advanced than ours. A thinking not swallowed by petty religion & caste. The ability to talk to and smile at strangers. I got to see the affluent middle class that’s provided for by the government in ways Indians are still dreaming about. We are so unwilling to learn. I got to see the real order, not the one borne by chaos. I got to see a willingness to accept laws and a hesitation to break them for it may harm another human being. I got to drink better hazelnut frappes. I inhaled fresh clean air in the middle of the town, oh how much I miss it back here!
Future is about smart choices, about creating better opportunities, and working hard to bring them to fruition. It’s about learning to adapt and curb your instincts to see past your preferred options and your preparation to dive into a better realm that provides foundations for better plans and people & resources to execute them . I can finally back myself to think positive and not worry about failures for I’ll never miss a chance to learn and grow and become the man who dictates the wellbeing of his loved ones. I grow!

What does a Reward mean?

A ruffle of your hair,

The eyes of the feigning clappers,

Eyes that ooze jealousy when your name is read out.

A pat on the back,

A sudden turn of the heads,

Heads still bewildered while you answered first.

The adoring parents,

Shouting out loud in the audience,

Realizing their son played a role none in the crowd was capable of.

Those happy rides home,

After the parents teachers meet,

The opportunity to brag.

Gifts Galore.

A peck on the cheek,

A kiss on the lips,

For she can’t hold herself back anymore.

She has to give in,

For she doesn’t see anyone but you,

A trusted beloved to share her life and love with.

——-********——-

As it turns out, my rewards are hardly derived from my elation. They are compounded by the emotions people around me portray through their actions. Anyone else recognize themselves through this post?

Reward of Love

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Reward.”

This is my greatest reward. To place an unknown human being in my sphere of trust. To let her know she’ll never be alone again. The connection to Shiva though, is something only she can explain. 🙂

Things Change and How!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Transporter.”

A lot has changed. From the time when a tiny boom box painted the rainbow of sounds across our home, as it churned out melodies after melodies on the radio and cassette player, to today when I have my sound at my fingertips. The smell of food that filled my heart will forever remain attached to the sounds I heard then. I see my mother in the kitchen, now and then. One ever so busy mother, with a job at hand, making sure all’s in order for lunch while me and my brother freshen up and change into regular clothes.

The table cleaned, waiting for a flurry of dishes be placed on it, to embrace them, to taste the curries that filled them. The table loved us. While we dearly waited for my dad to arrive, on his scooter, “Priya”, the sound of which got everyone into action. The table, all dressed, invited the hungry ones. Hungry ones always found the way. What would normally start out as lunch with sun-filled eyes ended in a blur. Somehow I don’t remember a single thing I did after lunch, probably clean the table and sleep was all I did till my pretense of being grown up finally showed through – then I studied, had to, never knowing why.

Today, while I wait for my maid to ring my doorbell and prepare what SHE calls food, I recall those afternoons, for I took them lightly, for they may never happen again. Such sweet memories and each one has a song for it. Like a straw that flows, I’ve seen a lot along the way, things appalling and shambolic, things that make me hum tunes, from the distant past. Tunes I won’t forget. Some Things change and how and Some never can!

Here is one of those tunes that reminds me of those lunches, the siestas and the pretense I now call “Studying” –

When The Joy Knew No Bounds

This is a dream. My mother and I land in US from an early morning flight on 14th January 2015, only to be greeted by the greatest news a ‘to-be’ uncle and a ‘to-be’ grandmother on a foreign land could have – the birth of an angel in our family. My brother and his spouse have made an incredibly beautiful baby – a 6.7 pound miracle. If I ever said anything about the loveliest thing I’d ever seen – then let me scratch that ‘coz this is a sight to behold. Let me present to you the latest addition to our family – Sara Mishra!

Sara

Our joy knows no bounds!

No Pain No Gain

This is where I stalled. The best I can describe my absence with, is I’ve been on a journey for a while. A journey to self-destruction and resurrection. A journey to see my ends. A journey to know the truth and self-worth, to live a tale worth telling. And it has come at a price. I’m lost. I’ve lost.

The burden of responsibility now forbids my senses to feel again, see again, hear again, think again. I fail to see how I got here. All that I am is truth. This is all I can be and yet I fail myself and others. The pain of understanding the world and people around me has got the worse of me. It’s becoming difficult to embrace myself for who I am. Because it’s dark. I’ve seen it. Something that’ll swallow me whole. I can feel things building inside me and they are a lot of weight to carry. The days are heavier and nights are sullen. I’m a ticking time bomb and time is close when I’ll explode. An explosion that will blow up their happiness to pieces and no one, not even me, knows what that’ll do to KING “ME”.

The ingredients of goodness inside me are depleting fast. I’ve got to come out. For inside me is burning anger. Case in point are these sudden urges to beat myself up. These urges occur when I’m happy about something specific or when I’ve sated myself. It’s not uncommon for me to feel bliss in pain but earlier, these feelings had a time and place. Not now. They just take over me and then possess me for days and days.

I’m different these days – angrier, surprisingly vociferous and scornful. I’ve always been different. My interests were different. I enjoyed pain and this is something I’m particularly proud of. I intentionally venture into the darker side when I’m aware of joys in brightness. But this tendency is at it’s peak now. I’ve started keeping myself on the edge. I break into moods I’m very unaware of. Life has become a game of hide and seek. Seeking while I’m hiding, in plain sight, yet creating thunders for myself and enjoying them.

I’m trying to find the psychology behind my actions that sometimes seem downright foolish. I’m forgetting more, trying to remember less and yet my dreams play out the drama for me, every night. Libation seems fruitless. So I tried exercising, trying to burn out all my excess energy, so I can remain calmer. It worked for a while, while the pain persisted. Once that went, so did the workouts. And now I’m free again with all that unburnt energy and no pain. It’s all like Forrest Gump. I do things without knowing why I’m doing them. Like these orders were etched inside my brain to be carried out now.

The song above describes me aptly. King Me – try looking for it’s meaning and you’ll get a number of absurd and pervasive results. I have my version too and it goes something like this – It’s a state of a narcissistic mind. One that’s trying to indulge for itself. It’s keeping yourself so high and untouchable, that a connect is almost impossible. It’s destructive. It makes you see and feel things, makes you sway from your path.

Why does King Me kill me? It’s because the world functions on people. People and things are the world. And when I can’t see beyond myself, I hurt others. Only in my case, since I have no one else to hurt, and so I hurt myself. I put myself through paces that are laid on death bed. And it burns. I have the marks – deep and unforgiving. People often tell me that I need to talk more but with what I have and what I do with it, my words fail me too.

That’s for a post later. Right now – Merry Christmas!!!! I’m looking forward to a new year filled with a lot of fresh opportunities and pain, because without pain, there’s no gain!

I Wonder!

I can’t really recall if what I’m going to talk about was my summer vacation or the start of long Dussehra holidays in October.

What I remember clearly though, is the sweltering heat, the yellow iron gate guarding our yard, my brother who had playfully climbed on top of the gate while me and my mum stood by the front door watching him play.

Now let me describe that yellow gate – it brought a unironed symphony to our home. It was a pale yellow, sturdy, 2-flanked metal structure that opened directly out to the beauty of the world. When it opened, the hinges creaked in a staccato rhythm. The 2 flanks hinged on iron rails on both sides, upholding the fence on either side. Looking from where I and my mom were seeing it, the left flank of the gate was lower than the right, leaning in from the top edge where they met (or should’ve met). Which meant that when the gate was shut using the latch on the top, it left ample gap at the bottom for stray dogs to wander in and out of our lawn, absolutely unhindered, an opportunity not many dogs missed considering the ginormous mango tree in our yard for the shade. Not that they really needed a gap, for the gate had rectangles cut out inside it, ones that made the gate, a practical sham!

Why am I talking about the gate? It’s this gate that I often dream about. One that opens to someplace unknown. Having yet to feel and cross it, the gate seems like it’s built of grey smoke only to fool my eyes. The fear of everything covered in orange haze/smoke on the other side, numbs my legs like I’m magically flying. When I look around, I find myself on an abandoned railway platform. The trains chugging pass fast and in huge numbers, watched only by a pair of eyes waiting for a trigger, but nothing happens. Nothing ever happens!

I often wonder what the dream means? Am I scared of abandoned railway stations? Am I scared of orange smoke? Do I love my legs so much that I fear for my life having no sensations in them?

Or is it my place of zen where I wish to be all the time?

I wonder!

You’re Beautiful

Have you discussed ‘Beautiful‘ with people? I haven’t and I don’t know what beautiful is. No one taught me what beautiful is and I believe no one can. For what’s beautiful for a gazillion, may not be for me and it depends on my mood.

I am not untouched by nature or beautiful people and I’ve seen beauty in few of the rawest and most memorable forms but sometimes I don’t stand even by my word about someone or something being beautiful, leave alone others. Ergo, beauty is subjective to opinions and can never be clearly defined.

What’s beautiful though is this song –

What’s beautiful about the song? The voice and the picture it paints, the strings brush up the picture and the bass fills the colors. So true and clear, here’s what I see:

A girl enters a train with her beau brushing by our guy, revitalizing his senses already dead from the men rubbing him and their smell while he stands by the door. A few minutes later when a jerk from the sudden brakes makes the girl turn around when our guy lays his first sight on her face, and he simply melts, and the song ensues.

I know it’s cheesy but I am in the mood for cheesy!

Let me know your version of the picture this song paints.