Friday, June 30, 2006

Some thoughts in between..... Of spirits and spiritual experiences

The whole thought of spirits manifesting and making an appearance is what our movies have given us by shaping our thought process through the mind as it readily accepts anything as long as our senses are happy and enjoying.

I don’t deny that these things happen but most of the times, these things that few people report are nothing but our minds games to make one’s senses happy. The spiritual experience is some thing all together different and it makes one progress beyond this materialistic self and the illusion. The knowledge of universal consciousness and our inner self reaching and coming in touch with the Supreme Being is an altering stage of life. Beyond this stage one becomes more peaceful and ego less as he has seen what really life is all about and then he/she does not gets the kick which one usually gets by being some thing different. Most of the times those yogi’s who have attained that stage does not talk about it as it does not matter to them as they see the world differently and their perspectives are different of the world after that …that is why the most revered yogis have attained Samadhi after attaining that reach.

But few of us who talk about are those who are still ignorant of the real thing and only groping in the dark or being lead by our own conscious mind into something called euphoria as it makes us more comfortable and sensibly peaceful that is all that our mind wants … Our mind does not want us to get disturbed so its makes stories out of our some experiences to explain things to us. We are always controlled by our senses and the king of senses is our mind which in effect controls us. The spiritual experience is beyond those sense and has a deeper meaning beyond the mind and once its attained the mind does not have a part to play at that level so that is why our mind fights so vigorously not to let go of that control.

One can have major spiritual experiences once one is able to hold on to initial on one thought (Which will be very difficult as our mind will run here and there with thousands of thoughts crowding this exercises) and then focus on the universal being and then one does see the real universal consciousness from where all our spiritual experiences originates. In our Veda’s its said that one should first try to hold on to one thought for 12 seconds, which is called on Unit and when on is able to hold on to 12 units on one Sound OM (The primordial sound) one reaches a stage of heightened consciousness and once that is done one should hold on to 12X12X12 seconds (28 minutes 48 seconds) on the universal light which opens the gateway (The kundalini rises at this time to reach the crown chakra) and at this stage one can and does experiences merging with the whole consciousness. The state is so blissful that one does not want to come out of it usually so it’s advised to be guided by a guru to reach this stage as one has been given a life to fulfill one’s Karma before attaining nirvana.

Om Namah Shivaya


My journey to our Ancestral House to find peace and my spritual roots - Day THREE Contd from below...

The sunsets in the west while I was walking through the jackfruit grove in our fields beyond the canal that marks the boundary of my house as well as the fields. How serene it is in the evening here. The trees that hosted us monkeys in our childhood are long gone but many of the jack fruit trees still bear the testimony of our frolicking here. We used to play a very particular game which is called OLLAH PATI (It’s a game where one person goes out to fetch the stick that is thrown by one of us and while he goes and picks it up and brings it back to the tree and places in the circle that is drawn on the ground, we all scramble up the tree. Then he has to catch one of us before any one of us can reach the stick and touches it either by climbing down or jumping from the tree as the den tries to catch one of us by climbing up the tree or trying to touch some one from the ground) where we have broken many branches. I still find the one mark of broken branch where I was sitting with whole bunch of village kids as it broke by all our weight and we all came tumbling down. How I remember our farm manager came out shouting from our house as the sound of the broken branch reached him and we all ran away from the scene of crime.

The walk back to house was full of sadness as I remember how my father wanted this whole land to be made an orchard of Mangoes and I think that is one wish of his is still to be fulfilled. Which I think will be done later this year ..

The house is now full of relatives and I did not feel like going there and chatting about things that I do or I do not so I walked away to our village and found that many of our childhood friends are away on work in the neighboring cities and I found only handful of children gathered about doing things like feeding the cows and buffalo’s. The village that was once so vibrant at least the time we used to come every year in summer holidays and all our friends were used to plan and be there when we were there…. Now is lost like a soul has left the material body.

The sun went down and the darkness now surrounded the village in its engulfing shadow and sadness crept on me like a cover which weighed me down and I walked back to the temple and sat inside holding out my hands on the square platform that is our embodiment of Goddess Durga Ji and I asked Her why these things happen. Sat there for almost an eternity before my thoughts began to wane and a sense of calmness spread all over me. The place become more peaceful and the chirruping of birds fell silent and the evening changed to night and my hands on the platform started shaking. Suddenly I found myself looking deep inside the platform which was changing its shape to a placid lake. I slowly started immersing in the lake and I found my self engulfed in warmth that was so profound and peaceful as I heard a long distance bell ringing and I found my answer….


What is real

The vessel

Or the water inside

When submerged

In universal consciousness of sea

Om Namah Shivaya


Thursday, June 29, 2006

My journey to our Ancestral House to find peace and my spritual roots - Day TWO Contd from below...

The open sky under which I slept gave me a tug in the morning with its cold winds with sun rising on the east breaking the first lights of the dawn. I was so refreshed to be under an open sky and could not help but walk over to the corner of the roof facing the sun and raised my arms up and soaked the morning rays. The eastern winds caressing my whole body rejuvenating the soul and I could not help smiling as I remembered the famous Titanic pose that I was displaying in the cold morning breeze with the corner of the roof acting as the hull of an ancient ship.

The day started with my brother going over to our mango grove where the pot containing my fathers ashes were kept. There we had to perform a ritual of bidding farewell to father with all honors and providing him with the necessary means for his life onwards. Such is our belief system that we don’t take the death as a parting but only as a continuation of a journey. There is a different sect of Brahmins called Karma Kaandi’s (Those who perform last rites and who take the offerings for the death as a means to convey the same to the departed soul. As per our customs we have called 11 Brahmins for the ritual and we will have to perform rituals and offer food and offerings to those Brahmins. My brother being the eldest had to take the lead in all the rituals so he was bathed and then he had to sit in the ritual for continuous 5 hours meanwhile as per our customs, we all brother had to shave our heads or cut hairs as offering of our own ego to the perpetual truth of life being momentary and we are all mere occupants in this body and finally we will have to live. I remember the famous saying of GITA, that the soul can not be cut, burned, make wet or dry, the soul is the forever living element of the Par Brahman and only moves on. Hence this ritual in effect makes one understand that it’s the ego which causes us pain not the death of the suffering.

Once we have had finished the rituals and the Brahmins have departed we all went to a nearby river which was 3 KMs away for a bath. I remembered so many incidents that happened in those fields that it almost made me feel sick in heart. How happy those days were, free from pressures and pain. Pure bliss, even in the games that we played in the dirt and dust, I found undiluted happiness. I came across those rustic villages where we used to walk around looking for some sweets, or some special branches of trees shaped like V for making a special slingshot. Armed with those slingshots, the bow and specially sharpened arrows we used to walk into the mango grove called Kookuhali which has so many trees that even in the mid day it was dark inside. Specially in the summer days, when the mangos become ripe with each passing breeze, they used to fall to the ground in hundreds and we used to go crazy trying gather them in the baskets as soon as they fell. Now the place is in ruins as many of the trees were felled and many a storm also took its toll, I looked around for the special tree that we used to call King and Queen and used to celebrate each year there crowning with so many kids gathered around. We even used to have the tie the knot with Vedic rituals of marriage with one of our cousin pundit tying the sacred knot between those two trees planted firmly next to each other.

The river came into view and it flashed in my memory like a long lost friend. This river a very small tributary to Holy Ganges is called Bansi River. How much fun we used to have there. My brother’s son went all wild and started running to it to make a running dive inside the cold waters and I find myself running along side with him. Just before he made his jump my flashback went off and I simply walked to the river. The water was cold in the hot summer which made all of us refreshed. The river was bringing along with it many water plants and algae and while being in the water it used to touch me which made me jump every time. I am still scared of snakes although in such a frolic no one snake will dare to come around but I was still scared. Slowly the sun started settling down and we decide to walk back to our village.

Om Namah Shivaya


Wednesday, June 28, 2006

My journey to our Ancestral House to find peace and my spritual roots - Day ONE

By the time I reached my village it was almost midnight. I found the serpent like road that was uncoiling before me and thought of the time when I used to take this same road with song on my lips and joy in my heart. Today, the journey had another meaning and it was sad to feel that the place my grandfather and my father poured sweat and blood to make a happy place, will not be there to receive me. The stars are shining so bright and thousands of it just waiting so near that I could almost touch them almost I wished for a shooting start to pass by and make my wish come true.

The small canal passed by and I saw my self playing in those refreshing waters just yesterday, will I be able to come back here again and play? The tarmac road changed to a dusty pathway the moment we crossed the small market near the school which my father helped with my uncle through donating land to one very famous Baba (Sadhu) whom we used to call Falahari Baba (The one who only ate fruits and vegetables which he was doing since his childhood) and he set up the small village school which now teaches 1000 village kids. The road took a bend and we bumped into the vast track of land that belonged to us. In the distance I could see the great double line of Jack Fruit trees which was looking too forlorn in the night sky. I remember we used to get very scared to come here in the night as it was supposed to be haunted. Now I felt no fear as its not the spirits that scare us but rather our own mind that does remain so possessive of our physical being getting harmed that it creates a panic in ourself about things unknown. I found that small running drain that accompanied the big canal that draws water from the Burhi Gandak ( A tributary to Ganges) and we moved to the bridge that joins my house to our land. The bridge remains same a mute spectator to many visitors and I could find that some bullock cart has broken the flat slab at the one end of it where we used to come and sit in the evenings talking to whole lot of people from my village and others passing through my village.

Just after the bridge the dusty path bend at 90 degree and my house and our most favored Durga Ji’s Temple or rather the Goddess Durga Ji’s most favorite household temple where She had decided to remain ( The temple is a very powerful one since my childhood I have been so attached to this temple that our fore father built and my father made the superstructure so that it is covered from rain and sun) came into view and I just bowed my head in prayer. I am here again and in her service and made a silent vow to come back here again soon once She finds me my footing and self respect.

The whole one acre of land in front of our house was set up with tents and sleeping cots and tables for food and at one corner there was the cook’s gang which was still at the middle of night preparing food or some stuff for the guests… I saw my brothers who have already reached there and for the first time I met my mother after the enlightenment of my father. She was looking weak and distraught and thank God that she did not broke into tears as I would have found it hard to contain mine. My younger brother who had come from hongkong came over and my elder brother who had been sitting our side taking care of things asked us to come over and have some tea.

I took one of my cousins a child hood friend along with me to look around in the night of the place and could find many things that still remained the same, the small litchi tree, that used to be our focal point for meetings in the evening as many of the villagers used to pass by this tree in the evening after the weekly market in the evening is closed. I also saw the well, where I used to have bath in tones of water Pitcher full, as our person used to make us bath in the childhood, is closed. The mud fell one season closing it forever and I felt sad. Many times sleeping under the neem tree that was in our courtyard next to the Durga Ji’s Temple, over looking the well, I found a beautiful lady in white clothes walking out of the temple and going over to the well to have water and come back. I still feel her presence even after so many decades have passed by today. Even now writing about it is making me feel her presence and my hairs are standing on its end and I find goose pimples all over my self. I asked my cousin to do something about it and restore the well as it has many memories of me, my brothers and my father. The mango tree that was next to it still stands and how refreshing is the memory that we used to climb at the top of it and how many times my brother came tumbling down from its peaks. But sadly the jasmine with all its scent has passed away in the memories lane.

I came back to my house and sat with brothers planning and thinking about things that needs to be done tomorrow and slowly the night passed away and we all left to sleep for whatever time the night has left for the day to walk in…

Om Namah Shivaya


Saturday, June 17, 2006

Winds of Change....Waiting at the Gorakhpur Railway Station

I watched the leaf falling through many branches and swept away with winds and finally resting on the rails of small guage train rails... Just like I have been swept by winds of turbulent times testing my strength and courage as well as my conscious belief in superconsciouness...

Waiting here at the Gorakhpur Railway station on my way to my ancestral village, I was reflecting on the way things have changed from past few months to few days.. even. Imagine going through a training in the world capitol of IT Bangalore few days back and now here I am online through my Nokia Communicator which I am sure not going to work once I start on my way to my village which is like the dust ...hidden in the IT Back lanes.. so may be I will be online only in few days...

But apart from this there has been upheaval in my life too... Waking up to a call from my brother in early morning 4AM and knowing that my father has passed away just after few days of my penning of a poetry in celebration of his joining HIS heavenly abode... now sitting here two thousand miles away thinking about those moments brings to the contrast of the feelings and sensitivity. Dad wanted to be near his earth where he was born and brought up so all of us brother and my mother thought it fit to have his last rites in his own soil. ... DUST TO DUST SOUL TO SOUL...

Every time I used to reach this station which has always been a kind of gateway for me fromurbanisation to my rural lifewhich I have loved always... I used to feel so good reaching this place from delhi... and some times my couontry cousins used to travel 100 KMs to be at this stationto join us on our journey to our village.. used to have fun... now sitting here with one of my brother and one friend... we have an urn of ashes of my father to be spread across the fields where not only he, but we all used to play....

The sun is setting and the train is on its way... I will leave you all with some small thought that is coming to me just now...

Another life Unfolds

Fluttering leaves
Settles on the dust
Waiting for the wind to unfold
Take her to the far corners
Of turbulent time
and leave
Her on the village temple
In wait for another life
To unfold

Om Namah Shivaya