Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Touching Moments

I was reading a novel, lying down next to my twins. I had placed one of my hands on a twin, who had been difficult a while ago, and had brought the house down with his bawling. As I was lost in the memoirs of Sayuri, the geisha, all of a sudden, I discovered that my index finger was not available for turning the page. A quick look, and I found my twin clutching on to my finger with such intense ferocity. He was fast asleep, the very picture of a divine angel. Extricating my finger would mean waking him up. Quick decision. I decided to leave Sayuri alone for the time being and instead, removed my spectacles and settled for a nice nap next to my twin. When I woke up after half an hour, the little chap was still clutching my finger. :-)

Sunday, July 18, 2010

An Incomplete Poem

For an honest smile,
For a happy sigh,
I need but a moment,
A moment that's mine.

For a light step,
And a dance and a skip,
I need but a place,
A place that is mine.

For the moment and the stage,
I search amongst the lanes,
My steps tread towards 'home'
But... nay...this is not the way.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Silent Nights

The nights are dark and long
The bliss of sleep denied
Dawn hearkens with its song
But the silence is not defied.

The only sounds that break
The shrouded silence around
The fan, air conditioner and
The whistles of guards on rounds

Silence gives way to solitude
Solitude to Self
Occupied with its vagaries
Oblivious to the world.

A sudden jingle...
Sounds like somebody's anklets
Inexplicable fear, a sudden dash
Destination - safe in bed.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

On Happiness

Found this poem Happiness by Carl Sandburg in my diary.

I asked the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me what is happiness
And I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands of men.
They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool with them.
And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered along the Desplaines river
And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their women and children
and a keg of beer and an accordion.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Hyderabadi Psychic and Bomdom the Keeper of the Cobwebs 2

Hyderabadi Pyschic - Is there anything like being emotionally objective? What I actually mean is, just like how you would examine a thought objectively, can you examine emotions objectively? Isn't the word emotion itself supposed to be subjective?

Bomdom, the Keeper of the Cobwebs - Oh! I thought you meant your 'emotional' need for a new mobile phone! How could you objectively choose a phone when you need a GOOD one so badly. :D And since I am no good at choosing mobiles, I decided to keep my fingers clenched (the net equivalent to keeping the trap shut - made that up meself !)

Since you are asking this one seriously, probably, you are treading the path towards meditation. That is what meditation all about, right? One of the forms of meditation is to keep yourself aloof and silently WITNESS your thought process. And witness it objectively. The idea is to become aware of the noise within one's head. And the ideal situation is when one is able to be a witness all the time.

So the answer to your question is YES. It is possible to examine one's emotions objectively. It obviously needs practice - lots of practice. Probably, one could start by retrospection. In hindsight, when the heat of the moment is no longer 'driving you' - it would be worthwhile to thing objectively of one's actions. One has to be mercilessly honest with oneself at such times, otherwise it is the usual exercise of justifying one's actions.

One game that is like to play with myself is to stop my thought process at some point and try to trace back the thoughts and see how the mind has been jumping from one branch to another. Try to see how far back I am able to reach following the train of thoughts. That is also the reason why my favorite literary style (is that the word) is 'stream of consciousness'. Tolstoy was a master there. My all time favourite is from War and Peace - check out bibliomania - Fiction - Leo tolstoy - War and peace - Part 3 chapter 13 - the very first passage. How beautifully, Tolstoy has recreated the meanderings of a tired mind!

Anyway, coming back to the topic, this game is actually one type of meditation. Once one gets used to see how the mind keeps flitting about, I am sure one will be less enamoured by its prowess. That is the key, I suppose. To be able to differentiate oneself from one's mind and to see it as a tool - My tool. What Swami's tirelessly keeps driving home. I am not the body, I am not the mind. Never used to make much sense earlier. But beginning to wake up a bit now. Still, the awakening is to a great extent only because of the practical use of the this differentiation. The ability to watch my anger. Even sometime when I am acting, in the clutches of anger - there is a part that watches. It is a long journey. But an adventurous one - to the point where one can be a witness all the time even in The Battlefield.

So YES. very much possible to objectively watch your emotions!

Conversation between the Hyderabadi Psychic and Bomdom, the Keeper of the Cobwebs 1

Hyderabadi Psychic - Does God listen to our prayers?

Bomdom, the Keeper of the Cobwebs - Nice answer to your question - Does God listen to our prayers! :D

THE DUCK AND THE GRANDMA


There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm.He was given a slingshot to play with, out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target. Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner.

As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved.

In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to see his sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing at all.

After lunch the next day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes."But Sally said , "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen." Then she whispered to him, "Remember the duck?" So Johnny did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, "I'm sorry but I need Sally to help make supper."Sally just smiled and said," Well that's all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help." She whispered again, "Remember the duck?" So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's ... he finally couldn't stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck. Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug, and said, "Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you"