The Race

Falling for impressive falses
and gaining false impressions,
Lacking the love of discipline
and unable to imbibe the discipline of love,

Forgetful but unforgiving at the same time
and unmindful of its own reluctance to change,
The mind moves on to conquer the shadows of a trophy,
completely aware that it is a race to the unwritten finish line.

The Crutches

Your Principles, my Beliefs,
his Karma, her God,
our Truth, their Conscience,
Even though they all are supports, they are also crutches.

They are limiting as much as protecting,
They are a hindrance as much as a guidance.

Do you remember the last time,
when you realized the worthlessness of a principle,
Do you recognize the last time,
when our beliefs were used to separate us,

Do you remember the last time,
when you gave up on a challenge for the fear of karma,
Do you regret the last time,
When you questioned the wisdom of God,

Do you remember the time,
when truth made less sense than your faith,
and the time when your Conscience,
found convenient ways to hide itself in words.

Though they help you to stand where you are today,
Whatever is yours, are your crutches.

For now, let me make you stand on your feet,
For I know that you need to walk with me,
to wake me up whenever, I mistake my crutches for legs.

Are you in the illusion

Below is a transliteration and translation of one of the memorable works of Kanaka Daasa, a 16th century poet. I have not gone into summarizing or explaining it, as his songs are simple and catered to an audience with an intelligence requirement of just devotion.

Are you in the illusion
---- by Kanaka Daasa.

Do you reside in the illusion or is the illusion existing in you,

Are you present in the Body or does the body exist in you, O Lord!

Does the house exist in the field or the Field is in the house
Are both the field and the house in the eyes,
Do the eyes reside in the intellect or the intellect is in the eyes,
Are both the eyes and the intellect in you, O Lord!

Does the sweetness lie in sugar or the sugar exists in the sweetness,
Or perhaps both sugar and the sweetness are in the tongue,
Is the tongue in the intellect or the intellect is in the tongue,
Are both the the tongue and the intellect in you, O Lord!

Do the flowers have fragrance or the flowers reside in fragrance,
Or perhaps, both the flower and the fragrance are in the act of smelling,
Oh Lord Adikeshava of Kaaginele who has no equal,
I am incapable of explaining this, everything is in you, O Lord!

Transliteration (From Kannada to English)

nee maaye-yoLagO ninn-oLu maaye-yo

nee dEha-doLagO ninn-oLu dEhavO hariye

bayal-oLage aalayavo aalaya-dolage bayalo
bayalu aalaya-veradu nayana-doLago
nayana buddhiya-oLago buddhi nayanada-oLago
nayana buddhi-gaLeradu ninn-oLago hariye

savi-yu sakkare-yolago sakkare-yu savi-yoLago
savi-yu saakare-yeradu jihwe-yoLago
jihwe manasina-oLago manasu jihweya-oLago
jihwe manasu-gaLeradu ninn-oLogo hariye

kusuma-dali gandha-vo gandha-dali kusuma-vo
kusuma gandha-gaLeradu aaGraaNa-doLago
asama-bhava kaagi-nele-yaadi keshava-raaya
usura-lennaLa-valla ella ninn-oLago hariye

Pronounciation help for transliteration

• ee -> as in 'eel', example: nee
• e -> like an 'e' in begining of 'elephant', example: maaye
• E -> like an 'e' after 'a' in aeroplane, example: dEha
• L -> 'l' pronounced with a bent tongue like an 'l' in 'told', example: oLage
• O -> like an 'O' in 'Oats'
• d -> like 'th' in 'the', example: kusuma-dali
• dh-> like 'dh' in 'buddha', example: buddhi
• G-> like 'Gha' in 'Ghana', example: aaGraaNa
• n-> like 'n' in 'ten', example: nayana
• N-> like 'n' in 'tent', example: gaNapati

Words of Proactive Passivity

Not doing certain things is a doing in itself. But, how would you train your mind not to do things? Your mind is only trained to do.

Perseverance, is all about the compromises you dont make and Planning, is all about the chances you dont take.

Words which convey these things, are a boon to the Human mind. They make these things doable.

In our honest effort to provide help to a seeker, more often than not, we end up communicating our fears. Thus we take the person two steps back from the starting position.

The next time you hear yourself saying, ponder what you want to say: "Dont spill the tea over the speckless white dhoti" or "Keep your hand steady"

A few powerful people: Bus Driver

Life presents people in various capacities, colors and flavors. My mind wanted me to be one of each such inspiring people. They had something that made them powerful. Even though most of the experiences are attached to my early childhood, to a certain extent, I am still in awe of these people.

The Bus Driver
Who is not inspired by a manly bus driver who maneuvered the huge elephant like vehicle. With a conspicuously huge steering wheel being turned left to right, a dog shed like gearbox having a stick with a round blob like handle and a windshield as big as a cinema screen and with live vehicles zooming in from the opposite direction, it looked like being in control of the whole world.

He had a well shelved hair with a rich coat of coconut oil and a sharp mustache going good with the slagging khaki uniform which had two top buttons of the shirt open for ventilation. It gave a sense of him taking on the world for any challenges.

A transistor radio sized photo of the Deity, a set of disco lights going along its perimeter and a display plate hanging reverse indicating the destination of the way back, all added to the mystery of his cockpit like room.

Every now and then, he would generously stop and share pleasantries with another driver driving a similar monster. He would also give expert comments to the enviably privileged people sitting in the cockpit on what mistakes the other drivers on the road were doing, whats happening in the local village panchayat politics and also how useless the state government has been for the last five years. With his general knowledge he could easily have replaced my class teacher.

Once back at home, lots of buses would start on imaginary routes. A handful of kids in the neighborhood would become drivers of their own buses and head in various directions with sounds of “Drrrrrrrrr Drrrrrr Pom Pom” and stopping every now and then for an interlude of “Bangalore Manglore Mysore Dharwad ...”. A by looker would be amused by the number of cities catered by each bus.

A close to healthy competition existed between each driver as each one tried to race each other off the road, and this was in spite of being on the way to cities in different directions. A sense of balance still persisted among all the experienced drivers who managed to keep themselves on the paths made by mud mounds separating the paddy fields.

Like the normal roads, driving became a expert's task when it rained and clogged the lush green paddy fields with water. There were a few accidents in the rainy seasons with the usual new driver on the track tasting a bit of mud water. The other drivers would stop to observe a minute of absolute amusement.

The driver devils would then be distracted off the youngsters' bodies by packs of white bead like frog eggs lying in the water. All the drivers would then ditch their buses, some of them having color video coach and settle down into a session of discussion on how frogs come out of these beads and also about how big an omelet made of frog's eggs will be.

Apparently someone's mom happens to have a glimpse of the discussion panel and then chases everyone to a near by Well to clean themselves up.

A fore-thought on opinions

Opinion! Everybody has one.

Do you have one too? Do you need it? Does it really matter ?

When someone asks for your opinion, Are they asking for knowing it or they want you to concur with them? Does anyone's opinion actually change the matter? Why does someone else's opinion bring comfort into our decision making?

1 + 1 = 2, What's your opinion?
Well, What do I say? You have said it all.

x + y = z, What's your opinion?
Well, What do I say? I don't know anything.

What's your opinion on the hunger in Africa?
Yeah, It is very bad, but what can I do sitting at my home.

Do you need someone's illustration of a topic to get going on having an opinion? Do we need an opinion to prove our individuality? Does our opinion overcome our inability to act on it?

How often have we faced similar questions? From within us and from others.

We tend to look into having opinions of topics over which we have no control. The mind goes into a loop pondering over movie stories, over recollection of history, over the belief or disbelief of existence of God, over religions & all the while forming opinions and subjectivity all around it.

How much baggage do we carry around in our mind, that before someone opens their mouth, we already have an opinion of what they are, where they are heading, what do they need to improve in life and much more.

Contrary to popular notions instead of adding on to individuality, opinions makes us more vulnerable to typecasting.

Well there you go, Seems like someone has an opinion on opinion and also has an opinion on having it.

An after-thought on transparency

Transparency is a condition derived from a property called 'transparent', which indicates that it is an object than can be seen through.

It is a desired quality in humanities, management, markets, governments and what not. The benefits seem to be so much that we would desire it to be a part of every society and social system.

In terms of a social system, transparency is all about making available any information as soon as it is available. This of course, would help in keeping officials accountable and help in keeping the ethics & personal interest in check.

As the information is available to all, it seems like there is less harm possible with that information. Of course, the strength & integrity of a system should not be vulnerable to the information revealed.

So, all seems well. It seems so good, are there actually any bad things associated with it.

Now, you would be thinking, of all the things how did I end up picking a topic like this to do some loud thinking. It so happened that a few days back, I was busy analysing ways of overcoming a hurdle in my work and from a few meters behind my chair I heard a loud BANG! I saw quite a few heads in front of me turning behind with open mouths and wide eyes. Along with them, I saw myself turning behind too.

A person had just banged into a glass wall. He was vigorously rubbing his forehead. People were looking towards him apologetically, without much help available to be catered to his immediate need as there were no cuts or bleeding.

As the attention from his swelling forehead diluted, people got back to their workplace, getting ready for another uninterrupted session of work.

Still in the mind of some concerned souls, there was an anger towards this ostentatious display of prosperity through expensive glass walls. What was the need for such a thing? May be it is cheap to store wealth for longer duration in the form of expensive glass walls, it is not like gold, which anyone can take and run away and of course it is no longer a liquid asset too.

Well, I guess there is a need. In an organization promoting transparency at every level, it makes sense to see people meeting in a closed room and conspiring together to cater to the various needs of a growing organization.

But still, we need something to blame. Who can take the credit for that bulge on that poor soul's forehead. Aah! I got it, Let us blame that foolish brat.

Did he not have any sense of carrying himself well at such an altruistic place. What was he thinking, walking into a wall, okay it was a glass wall, but still, it is a wall. Did someone pick you up from a paddy field or what? don't you know that these places have boundaries called walls. What a hopeless chap. I guess the next possible thing is that he will trip himself down with his own legs. Nah, I guess, I have been a little harsh on him.

Perhaps, that guy had a tiring day, may be he forgot his spectacles, may be his wife reminded him of an impending capitation fees waiting for his kids admission to the elite nursery school, may be his father reminded him of his irresponsibility in front of his in-laws, may be he just had a bad appraisal at office. Yes indeed, many things are possible. So, may be he was trying to commit suicide banging himself to the wall due to the insult he faced and also get the insurance money to pay for the capitation fees, may be he has already sold his spectacles, to buy the application form for the kid's schooling.

Well, those seemed to be some rather tangential thoughts. Coming back to the situation and looking beyond the context, there seems to be a problem and a symptom in whatever happened. the onus is on us to recognise it.

Have we ever thought of how providing unwanted information can be harmful for the receiver. What about the people, who, mistake transparency in a system for non-existence of boundaries? There are personal, professional, ethical boundaries of anything that is transparent. How will we mark it up for notice?

Ever wondered, the harm caused by having your life as an open book. Of course, you don't care anything about people causing harm to you. You are a soul loved by all and you have the best intentions for all. What about the harm caused to the people who don't know how to handle the information.

Information is as powerful as fire, wind or water. Careers, personalities, societies can be burnt, swept away or sunk with information.

Thus, it seems like educating the ability of handling information is as important for a system as much as implementing transparency.

These are just after-thoughts, things do exist like this in many different forms in our own lives, people do keep banging into transparent walls every now and then, but do we care for it being a part of the system. May be yes, atleast as an after thought.

A World for you

I am dreaming a world for you,
a world of our fascinations,
not of equals, but devoid of comparisons,
where differences exist for variety.

A world bigger than just you and me,
where you matter more than your happiness,
and we matter more than our existence,
where a tear of gratitude outweighs a bowl of ambrosia.

Where a walk in the slush of paddy fields,
brings an ecstasy beyond the comforts of a Persian carpet.

Where my presence brings in you,
the peace of a stroll under fourteenth moon.

A world beyond regions, beyond limitations,
where judgment prevails over feelings,
where traditions are not holy cows,
and culture is not in rituals.

A world of compassion, A world of understanding,
where respect stems from love and not from ability.

A world beyond, but within us.
I am dreaming a world,
For you!

Words

Those many words that migrate back to my reality everyday,
The words that dilute those experiences,

The words that dissect a flower into more words,
A few petals, a stem, a pinch of fragrance,
The sharp thorns, the leaves and may be a botanical name.

No, not those, still not yet! but, those words don't give up,
I want to explain how wonderful those moments were,

Come back with me to my past say the words,
See how good I was, see how good the day was,

Realize that I was there, and that you are with me now,
Realize my importance, recognize my thoughts,
well, not all thoughts, just those which I want you to,

What happened to the reality?
Did I distort it?
Did I dirty the serenity of my experience?
All, just to relive my moment in your thoughts.

Was it all worthwhile?
Where am I now?
Am I in my past or in your thoughts?
Am I in my imagination or my imagination of your thoughts?

Well, may be I am just in those words,
Those words that are making rounds in my mind,
Coming back to my reality,
Dissecting and diluting my experience,
Right now!

Just another ego?

An ego bent on changing the world,
Cant change the course at its own home.
Striving towards improbability
that is camouflaged as impossibility,
an unknown hope drives it through
the marsh of seldom treaded territory,

The bending will, the hurt ego,
wilting under their own expectations,
seem to be dissolving the identity,
reforming and realigning every new intention
towards newer improbabilities,
To wage a war against the world,
just to change a course at its own home.

Unbridled

A knocking on the door, the ringing of the phone
A calling of the guru from the crowd in the street,
A deja vu of sorts occur again,
on every pattern of returning symbols

Opportunity strikes again! Opportunism reckons again,
Uneasiness of nerves, skipped beats of the heart,
Recursive thoughts and unknown hang-ups,

A scare of stagnant times, A fear of passing time,
and yet a recognition of irrelevance of time,
all put a case for reenacting the old reality again.

Gasping for the breath, my mind waits,
for the uncertainty to return,
for the normalcy to be restored.

Control is the last thing the soul desires for now.
To flow in thy will, to cog in thy wheel,
All that it longs for, is being your servant for eternity,
seeing and being thee, for the ever passing 'Now'.

The Eternal Wait

Driven by the fear, The fear of loosing,
Loosing what? Loosing that which is not yet attained,
What is not yet attained? Not yet attained is the object of desire,
Why is it an object of desire and not yet an ambition?
May be you are not convinced, Or may be it is not yet the time,
When will it be a time? It will be a time when you are ready,
Is this a paradox? No, this is not,
It is just your conviction, everything else is mere reflection.

Are you waiting for your soul to speak?
Do souls speak or do they just wait?
Wait for the Guru, Wait for the soul mate,
Wait for the beloved, Wait for the Lord,
Wait for the salvation, Wait for the beginning,
Is it all just a wait? Is the soul just a manifestation of the wait?

Are you living a life? Are you living a dream?
Is the dream yours? Or is it just those unfulfilled goals of a bygone era?
Do you still manage to dream just for yourself?
Do you dream about the goal or do you dream of your journey?
So, is it the last moment of wait for which you are living?
Or, is it the complete wait which motivates you?

Questions and more keep pouring relentlessly within me,
Whenever I see you in your own world, satisfied and racing ahead,
Heading into a world where I exist, waiting with open hands,
Waiting for your soul, to race your present and race me ahead,
And ask more questions and answer many of them, some of mine too,
The wait is on, for the questions and for the beginning of the end of wait.

The End

Here is a small writing originally written on June 22nd, 1993.
I did a small touch up on it today. This is a glance on my passing thoughts of then. Seems relavent today, seems transient and yet there always.

The End

A gust of wind flows
And a few fall into mud
These are rotten leaves
But tomorrow it may be a bud

I saw the end today
May be the end will see me tomorrow
I may sight it today
But Will I fight it tomorrow?

Even unknown is the astrologer
When his end is near
May be a day would come
When time and tide would wait for everyone.