Soul on Fire ..

In difficult times we take much solace from the lives of great souls, listen to inspirational songs, speeches, quotes and try to follow in the footsteps of those who have trodden through it all to emerge richer in psyche and spirit. Music such as The Humming chorus and Bailero do it for me, others have beautifully described some other pieces as 'powerful and disturbing'. Some books talk about the 'fullness of every moment' - containment of the entirety of life in each breath, others describe breath as the metaphysical bridge between mind and the soul. How 'wholesome' is a moment, how small a particle of creation and how long a piece of string ? Hindu ideology preaches a cyclic nature of all sentient beings such that in 'Siddhartha' (by Hermann Hess) when Gautama's (the protagonist) face is touched by a seeker of wisdom, he saw all stages and forms of life going round in an endless cycle of life, death and (re)birth. Have you really lived if you have not been soiled by this thing called life ? Mindblowing (to me) also is the fact that great realised saints, oblivious to blasphemy, have slept with their feet on a 'shivling' because they know it is purely of symbolic significance to those fruitlessly toiling in the ethereal plane. Justifiably so, for those rare few live with the omnipresence of the all-pervading. Realization can come in a flash, with the first ray of the morning sun or the utterance of a syllable, but must be earned with diligence such as painful accretion of meritorious deeds. Lives have changed with an intense experience leading to profound insight (such as what Ashoka the Great experienced from the battle scene of Kalinga) or voice of God through those he chooses to speak. And when timeless splendor descended on one great soul high in the hills, he beheld divinity in all creation. Having had his mind blown by ecstatic realization, he first hugged a tree then ran after a harmless passer-by, because to him he was not merely that. Frightened, the passer-by bolted but the apparent loony gave him a chase and eventually jumped on him. The exasperated man noticed that the 'loony' had not a tooth in his gob and was somewhat reassured at least he won't bite. Blessed is the crocodile that let go of Shankaracharya's leg, blessed is the sarangi that Mardana played before Baba Nanak went for a dip, blessed is Sujata from whose hands an emaciated Buddha accepted rice, blessed are Kabir, Meera and Rumi, ever intoxicated with the Lord's name, blessed is Tukaram the great marathi saint, blessed is Tatya who saw Sai Baba in flesh & blood and blessed are those whose lives were touched by Vivekananda before his mahasamadhi. It is mindblowing (to me) that as a child, Vivekananda considered the appearence of a golden bright globe of light between the eyebrows to be normal in all children ! Blessed are those consecrated by papaji (Swami Ramdas), blessed are those on whom the great sage of Arunachala set his gaze or those who witnessed the many miracles of Christ, blessed is the train that Sadhu Sunder Singh never went under. How things are divinely ordained ! Such luminous beings are we that an unworthy thought that crosses our mind can be detected in ether by souls of spiritual caliber, we must hence be careful of what we think in all our infinite wisdom. Even so, our novicical efforts at suppression too are futile and blatantly obvious (to them), leave aside secret knowledge of 100s of past lives and future ones. A jaw-dropping BBC documentary about the quest for a Tibetan leader's reincarnation proved to be delightful viewing. A Tibetan monk, who was deeply attached to this leader he now sought, traverses the hilly Tibetan terrain. During his search for the incarnate, he questions parents of toddlers born during a certain time and in a certain region. He tests their affinities, for example by presenting them with toys or rosaries and noting which ones they choose. Finally, after a laborious search, one catches his eye and is picked up for further tests by a spiritual 'council'. Upon the council's satisfaction, the tot, unmindful of his holy heritage, is sent for final consecration by HH The Dalai Lama. My point of deep interest being the subtle affinities, manifest or latent, which we carry from our past lives and of this life, which will be carried forward (aka : Vrittiyan / Sanskaar / Fitrat). Perhaps spiritual evolution is linear (not circular) and like event-horizon of a black hole singularity, which is thought to be a point-of-no-return, once a certain level has been achieved, the descent of Lord's grace (believed to be extremely rare) can hasten further development, bringing one to the brink of enlightenment. A spiritual flame is lit in the deepest recess of the psyche to guide one towards union with the absolute. The book, 'Autobiography of a Yogi', by Sri Sri Paramhans Yogananda ji - a great soul, is freely available at: http://www.crystalclarity.com/yogananda/ and has given me hours (and days) of delightful reading, soulful wisdom and divine glimpses. Words cannot express the joy i felt on reading the events and incidents described in chapter after chapter, absorbing me from the wee hours to the crack of dawn. For me, this was an anachronistic sequel to, 'Man's Eternal Quest' by the same author and fanned the dying embers of its wonderful memories. William Dalrymple and Karen Armstrong's writings too have a good deal of food for thought for those with some inclination. Back in the days of Delhi, 'The Speaking tree' and some programmes on Times FM touched a celestial nerve and provided much comfort amid times of social urban turbulence. One school of thought says that we are inherently hardwired to evolve spiritually and will unwittingly end up as saints. I don't know what to make of it. But no words can be a substitute for actual experience and my word is as good as yours. Do not be misguided by me because the blind cannot lead the blind. Should such fate await thee that thou curse me from the shackles of hell, then take this as my celestial disclaimer to thy spiritual bankruptcy, lest I be thy neighbor in hell !

26/11 Mumbai Mayhem - One year On: My Take:

This first anniversary of 26/11, the country gets together to remember those martyred in the cross-fire of mindless violence stemming from the outlandish belief of some to be blessed with APSARAS in the 'other' world. Among placards of 'Enough is Enough', once again, we responded with saintly restraint. One year and 166 lives later, candlelight vigils and a profound show of solidarity across the vastness of India is heart touching. To say the least, 26/11 was a watershed event in establishing new telecasting ethics. Sad that it took a 26/11 to up the country's internal security apparatus, sad that it always takes a disaster for our hedonistic babus to realise that something needs to be done. But as one of our former PM put it, 'Not taking a decision is also a decision.' How blessed we are ! An anti-India stance is the glue that forms the very basis of existence of our western neighbour, a country which itself is paradoxically caught in an unprecedented struggle to contain the home-grown Frankenstein that it nurtured for so long - that's what led to the recent assassination of one of its former PM - among other, less well known fiascos.

I remember the moment when i first heard the news on radio, asked my roomies to switch channels to get the latest on the breaking news. It reminded me of 9/11, when i was in Bombay and got the unbelievable breaking news in a cyber-cafe. Anyhow, glued to the telly, we saw the grandiose Taj in flames, with no fire brigade in sight. When it did turn up, i felt that the water hose needed a dose of Viagra to contain the billowing smoke and spreading fire. The woefully inadequate emergency infrastructure was on world display, beamed live to millions worldwide. In the absence of jammers, brainwashed terrorists chatted freely to their spiteful masters on satellite phones, who guided them by the tellyvision images comming in. The following two days, the story unfolded painfully slowly amid headlines of 'Cops Caught Napping' and the like. A British tourist recalled on BBC 4 how he was paralysed waist-down when trying to flee his 3rd floor hotel room using a 'rope' made of bedsheets and curtains tied together. He and his girlfriend (who was also in the room) both survived to tell the tale. Many others were less fortunate as the terrorists went on a room-to-room shooting spree. The shameless comments from some of our politicians that belittled the blitz added fuel to the inferno. How cheap is the life of a non-VIP in India ? Is there anything remotely like 'national pride' or will we continue to squabble like the princely states did before the days of the Raj ? Advantage China. If the pathetically low voter turnout in Bombay in the following general elections is anything to go by, we still swear by the chalta hai attitude that has rotted the system. Where did all those people disappear who vehemently voiced their anger following 26/11 ? Were they hired from a bollywood set ?


India had a range of responses to choose from, from deploying Indian troops along Afghanistan's Eastern (and Pakistan's western border) to a speedy execution of Ajmal Qasab among others. But as the dust settled and the tears dried, our (spineless) elected leaders began a game of shuttlecock diplomacy with Pakistan, exchanging dossiers upon dossiers, becoming the world's laughing stock. Semantic exculpatory such as 'Non-State Actors' became a catchphrase floated by 26/11 architects grappling for lame excuses in their defence. Meanwhile, toothpastes, perfumes, biryani and urdu newspapers were served to keep Qasab happy in his cell.

Imagine this in Israel or Soviet Russia. Their robust Mossads and KGBs with a nut-cracking reputation for notoriety - shape events, not leave their countries to endure consequences. It will be great if music maestro Zubin Mehta be allowed to play the music of peace in PoK. Lessons have been learnt the very hard way. Steps have been taken to set up logistical hardware and infrastructure to tackle similar future threats - steps both in public domain and covert. Spy satellites, costal police stations, rapid response NSG hubs, reduced response times, hi-tech intelligence gathering and sharing, gizmos for the state police boys, improved coordination between agencies and major policy changes to name a few. But nothing will ever be enough because this is cold war on a sliding scale much like between drugs and bugs. Post 26/11, India Inc. has become a fortress in many ways, but not an OTT xenophobic alarmist state. Foreigners still can't catch exotic butterflies in the beautiful Arunachal without special permission. From a bird's eyeview, 26/11 has made India a lot stronger than ever before, logistically, materially and in the collective psyche. Even as the full ramifications of events leading up to the carnage continue to emerge to this day, 26/11 certainly set the tone for India's threat perception and response preparedness in the 21st century, in which it inevitably will have a major stake. The nation still awaits a sense of closure of justice.

३३४थ मर्त्यर्दोम ऑफ़ गुरु तेग बहादुरजी ,,

24th November 2009 marked the martyrdom day of the ninth great sikh Guru, Guru Teg Bahadurji. For me, the day started bleary-eyed, as usual. Woken up by some odd calls, i finally decided to step out at noon before going insane being homebound. One of the calls was about an NRE account, which despite my repeated requests, they refused to close. Instead, they kept penalising me for not maintaining a minimum balance. This was not the idea i had in mind when i opened it! So i finally arranged to have all the money withdrawn in rupees and decided to let them chase me instead! Someone rightly said, if you think no one cares, try missing a payment ; )

Picked up some post on the way out, did some paperwork and legwork. A new communal washing machine had been installed and i was grateful because the last one left all my clothes and smallies shrunk by at least 15%. My hair had been bothering me for a while and fast approaching the point of intolerable irritation. So i decided to go for a haircut - an impromptu decision on the way out. They have a £10 flat rate, which i always consider a rip-off, though the guy is good with his hands. NPI.



Baljit paaji was tired this evening and we decided to try some Samosa chaat at Shahenshah. I drove there, filling up some petrol on the way. Enjoying every mouthful, paaji suddenly hit across something hard and unlike potato. It turned out to be a piece of plastic, which we immediately bought to the shopkeeper's attention. The guy disappeared in the kitchen to investigate how the unlikely condiment ended up in paaji's bhaaji. We thought it must be a piece of X'mas puzzle and hoped for nothing less than a plate of complimentary samosa chaat for the gaffe. (As at the arse end of the day we were both hungry) As fate would have it, the guy was profusely apologetic and refunded the money. And we blessed his cotton socks.

Then we decided to go to the Gurudwara, though paaji had half a mind to go back home and down a pizza. However, upon reaching the Gurudwara, it was unusally full-up and we could'nt find a parking space. We realized it was Guru Teg Bahadur's day. Paying our respects to the holy scripture Guru Granth Sahib we sat down to listen to Guruji's life, times and message. I could just about manage to make the jist of what was being said in Punjabi, but enjoyed being absorbed in the message. Then we headed down for the langar, which was of course special today: Two sabzis, daal, sweet rice, chapatti, achar and chai. While there, paaji kindly pointed out some prospective brides for me too. I told paaji that i had started writing a blog and he burst out laughing. He asked me what I would write besides sleeping, sleeping and more sleeping ?! We did take a foto with his mobile cam to upload later though.

Nothing special planned for tomorrow, Paaji has some insurance policies to sell and i have some paperwork to do to ensure i am warm and fed this winter...

23rd Nov 2009..

University Challenge begins in less than 30 minutes and i just thought i'd scribble something before dashing off to watch Paxman's weekly grilling on my half-broken telly. To my shock, good-old-fashioned cathode-ray-tube tellys have all but disappeared from market shelves, replaced by gynormous fat-arse, paper-thin, energy-devouring wall-hangings.

Heaps of days upon days of nothingness have been piling on. My sleep-wake cycle has shrivelled to the amoebic basic of Maslow's hierarchy - food <--> sleep. And
self-actualisation has gone for a walk. An empty mind is a devil's workshop and indolence can be disastrous in more ways than one. Listening to programmes touching on suffering, courage and spiritual evolution made me feel a bit light-hearted. Some say that because everything flows from the same single spiritual source, nothing that exists can be inherently evil. Death of kin, loss of job, sickness, injury, old age and incurable disease are a few causes of the omnipresent doom and gloom surrounding us today. If emotions flowing out from us all could be coloured, we'd have a lovely piece of modern art in the sky that'd do incredibly well under the hammer. The radio-clock plays all night and the latest spiel is all about flooding in Cumbria and the enormous infrastructural damage that has resulted. A close friend thanked his lucky stars for recently turning down a job offer there.

The year 2010 has a magical buzz about it. The Atlantis has docked with ISS and the CERN LHC geeks are again busy smashing protons in search of the elusive Higgs boson. What's more, some crazy new creatures dwelling 200 metres below the world's oceans have come to light that have the bio-boffins excited. Life has such a way of hanging-on ! BBC 4 airs some incredibly amazing stuff for my bottomless intellectual pit...the 'filler' music before the nonsensical shipping forecast is out of this world.

Today too, I woke up in the dark winter evening to watch people in cars and buses drive away from the town centre after a day's work. With their headlights on in the overcast sky and light drizzle, the traffic snaked slowly through. I try to catch a glimpse of the last few rays of the orange sunset from my second floor appartment. With six missed calls on my mobile today, people unerringly called me when they thought i would be up and about, little knowing how amazingly nocturnal i'd become. An hour later, went out to have langar @ Gurudwara with Baljit paaji - mysore dal, roti, sabzi, raita and chai. Not to mention the atta ladoos i had before setting off , that Baljit got from Jalandhar from his engagement !
We watched Kurbaan on his laptop and paaji whole-heartedly agrees that Saif's acting has matured to the flavour of a delightful vintage wine.

My latest read is the old Stephen Hawking book, "A Brief History of Time". Sadly, Dr Hawking says that every equation he puts in the book would halve the book's sales, so i had to contend with just Einstein's E=mc2 on subjects as arcane as black holes, quantum mechanics and relativity. I had recently finished a Sidney Sheldon and "Time to Emigrate" by a George Walden. I could not tolerate to continue reading 'Games Indians Play' by V. Raghunathan because it turns a tad dry vis-à-vis game theory and readers are assumed to be mentally challenged. A book which literally blew my mind was "Siddhartha" by Herman Hess. I stumbled upon it quite by chance and found it to be poignant, powerful and profound in its scope and narration.


Yesterday cooked some rice n chick-peas with spices on the electric hob. As usual, the pressure-cooker whistle spewed out steam in all 4 directions sending everyone scurrying for cover. My wogging (walk + jog) trips have lately been restricted by the angry weather Gods so i try to slog out a week's worth each time the sun beams in approval.

More .. as the 24-hr day unfolds in its splendour. SLATER !

Big Bang !

Namaste Sasrikal Hello Salam !