The mystery of the dark house

A man entered a house and found it to be very dark. All efforts to switch on the lights were in vain. Soon he grew accustomed to the darkness and was even happy at times with the gloom. However, none of the work he did in the dark had any pleasant outcome. It always ended in disappointment. Finally he got fed up. Then he remembered that his wise friend had warned him against living in darkness and had offered to help him if he ever wanted to change his ways. Somehow he managed to phone his friend.

He said, “I can’t see a thing. It is so tiresome. Can you help me?”

Friend: “Are you sure u wanna walk in the light? Have you had enough of the darkness?”

Man: “Hell! I can’t stand it anymore. I am desperate.”

Then the friend uttered those magic words that changed the man’s life forever.

Friend: “Please open your eyes.” 

The beautiful rose

The Master appointed a gardener to tend to His rose plant. If at the end of his contract, the gardener succeeds in bringing Him a beautiful rose flower, he would be rewarded with a delightful garden to retire to peacefully.

Like the gardener, we are appointed on earth for a specific time to tend to our soul. If we fulfill our contract to grow a pure and blissful personality and submit it to our Master, our life’s journey would be rewarding.

Your will

God – The One Absolute Eternal Truth- alone has power over all things. He has also given us the power to choose. When we surrender to God and choose Him as our refuge, we are also making the choice of good – good thoughts, good deeds, good words. Thoughts being the precursor of action and thus the foundation of our future, positive thoughts build a positive future. Let us choose to have only encouraging happy thoughts. When we fill ourselves with God no negativity has any space left. This means filling ourselves with all the best thoughts for indeed God commands all that is best and pure. So ignore that little voice that says unhappy things and instead choose consciously to have uplifting joyful thoughts like “I am grateful to have so much goodness in my life,” so much so that slowly even your unconscious thinking will become totally positive. God is giving you all that is good but you are creating hurdles for yourself by not extending your hand to receive. If you want beautiful pictures on the screen of your life, you must first clean the screen and let the light through. Be assured that the projector has a wonderful movie to play. Trust God. Let go and enjoy.

Take a vacation from unhappy thoughts. Whenever you catch yourself saying negative things or complaining even if it is about the weather, stop, forgive yourself, and immediately change to the positive track. Please try this out, whats the harm in trying? 

A year of anger

2012 had been a year of uprising and anger. Whether it was against a defunct government, social injustice or violent men, there was always an undercurrent of animosity that defined the popular response.

Anger is the most visible symptom of a turbulent mind rendered impotent by irrational thoughts. When justice has been thwarted and legitimate protests suppressed, what has not been allowed to be articulated peacefully finds expression through violent means. As a society, we Indians are prone to repressing difficult emotions and need to be taught to communicate our grievances effectively without aggression. Scientifically, it has been proven beyond doubt that exposure to aggressive role models influences the behaviour of observers negatively. As such, the whole world is witness to the effects of a global gun culture that breeds young murderers. Even more baffling is the solution of fighting this, not with abolishing guns but with providing more ammunition. Our knee-jerk responses to rape betray the same insanity.

Complex issues like violence against women, corruption or terrorism obligate careful deliberation by a mind steeped in equanimity and purified by wisdom. These are essentially social problems that demand a social solution. As the building blocks of society, every family has a significant part to play in social transformation. What we require desperately are enlightened social reformers who can gently nudge us in the right direction. 

I fervently hope and pray that 2013 will usher in an era of peaceful and meaningful public involvement in politics that is worthy of a maturing democracy. 

In Modi Mode

Media is rife with Modi stories. A day does not pass by wherein the Gujarat Chief Minister does not attract attention to himself. I am stupefied by the responses that the article on Mr. Narendra Modi in The Hindu has generated especially the ones that laud the Gujarat Chief Minister’s self-acclaimed developmental agenda. Is this a window to India’s general opinion on Mr. Modi? Has the Congress with its innumerable scams so disillusioned the minds of the average middle class Indian that he is now not averse to an alternative like Mr. Modi? Do people actually believe that “Gujarat riots” is only a stick to beat Mr. Modi with? Can we so easily deny the fact that at the very least a doubt has been cast on Mr. Modi’s ability to protect the minorities? Have we become so numbed by the oft-repeated accusations that we are now prepared to condone them?

The mirage of poetry

Poem is a subjective portrait of a poet’s mental landscape. What woes lurk beneath that calm visage? The poet feels deeply and in a precious moment of inspiration ventures out from his inner shell to part with the pearls of his solitude. To him, every word rings true, each an embodiment of a deep-seated emotion. What sense does it make to the uninterested onlooker or the enthusiastic browser? Does the poet care whether he is understood? Does he yearn for a soul that resonates with his own to come along? In the secret altar where the muse resides, what tempests rage hidden? Does his heart quiver as they break away from every shackle of reason and bursts forth laden with the seeds of passion? Does nature hold her breath when the poet writhes in agony as the pangs of a poem’s birth rends him asunder? Will she shed a tear for the stillborn words that fail to touch upon any heart? Will she rejoice when his words quench an inner hunger and ideas come alive in a flash of brilliance to impregnate the hapless world that awaits his seeds breathlessly? Or is it a schizophrenic delusion of grandeur that the poet suffers from? Does the world really take heed? Yet, so tempting is the mirage of poetry that the poet wanders on thirsting after its bewitching evanescent waters!  

Weeks and months ebb away tidily,

The pen I wield not

Nor the painting brush.

There is only stillness;

Peaceful yet uneasy

For even in this silence

The lure of words endures,

Hidden in that empty space

Where only the blessed ones can enter. 

A Cloudy Day

Dark clouds have drifted past the horizon
And descended into the clear blue sky:
Soon the hope of light will fade
And gloom will descend upon
The soothing warmth of sunshine
Extinguishing it mercilessly.

Not a single life in sight, alas!
Even the omnipresent crow has disappeared.
Moments trickle past in haste;
The day will soon vanish
Into the realm of history.
It will never see another bird
In flight or a colourful sight;
Its dreams of glory die a silent death
As reams of clouds scurry
Past the horizon and into the clear blue sky.