Even the poorest of the poor and the most wretchedly destitute of the wretchedly destitute feels like a king with a Sachin fix or a Shah Rukh fix. No matter which deep corner of the country, no matter there's no TV, there's nothing, but somehow, somehow, we manage to get hold of a radio, or a cell phone, and we link our disparate fortunes with eleven men, for our very well-being depends on them. It is of little consequence that we have not enough money to feed or clothe ourselves and our families, and we have but a piece of tarpaulin between us and the vagaries of nature, but we have stars in our eyes.
And so, while the government dances on its own axis, and Wikileaks makes buffoons and harlequins of our politicians, what does it matter...our love and our devotion are for those who, remote as they are from us, scatter sparkling fairy dust over us...and if they fail, or flop, our love and devotion continues to defend them and root for them, for they never fail to add a little glitter to our lives.
We are content...
31 March 2011
30 March 2011
Randomly rambling...on the matter of identities...
Everything in Nature has an identity. We, as a part of Nature, therefore, need an identity.
Question is, what kind of identity?
In the quest to earn a livelihood, and create a happy life, people move from one place to another, only to find that they are alien to both the place they left, and the place where they created a home.
In war-torn countries, people have been uprooted from their homes and bunged into refugee camps, where they live with no home/land of their own in sight.
In countries which have been fractured into distinctly separate units, people who lived together in harmony and happiness, suddenly find they have to shift to either side of lines drawn by war-blinded-hate-fed humans.
In frightening situations when for the sake of winning freedom from despots, freedom-fighters have enslaved and tortured men and women beyond all believable and imaginable limits, because all of a sudden the men and women who were neighbors, now look like enemy.
In mad twists of fate, people of the same race have turned on each other because they were followers of this wise man, or that prophet, or this god,or that goddess, all of whom, incidentally, preached brotherhood of man.
So, what identity are we looking at? And yet, we need an identity, if only to feel that we are real...
A leaf that grows on a branch is a leaf, and when it falls it is still a leaf, and the ground where it falls belongs as much to it as to whoever else treads on it...
Question is, what kind of identity?
In the quest to earn a livelihood, and create a happy life, people move from one place to another, only to find that they are alien to both the place they left, and the place where they created a home.
In war-torn countries, people have been uprooted from their homes and bunged into refugee camps, where they live with no home/land of their own in sight.
In countries which have been fractured into distinctly separate units, people who lived together in harmony and happiness, suddenly find they have to shift to either side of lines drawn by war-blinded-hate-fed humans.
In frightening situations when for the sake of winning freedom from despots, freedom-fighters have enslaved and tortured men and women beyond all believable and imaginable limits, because all of a sudden the men and women who were neighbors, now look like enemy.
In mad twists of fate, people of the same race have turned on each other because they were followers of this wise man, or that prophet, or this god,or that goddess, all of whom, incidentally, preached brotherhood of man.
So, what identity are we looking at? And yet, we need an identity, if only to feel that we are real...
A leaf that grows on a branch is a leaf, and when it falls it is still a leaf, and the ground where it falls belongs as much to it as to whoever else treads on it...
Stress-point...
'Being productively engaged'. This, to my mind, is the ONE SINGLE PHRASE that causes stress levels to zoom off into space.
So, what is this 'productive engagement'?
Why does this phrase cause so much dread and distress and fear?
For whose benefit is this 'productive engagement' happening?
Think about it for a moment: We feel we are 'productively engaged' when we are rushing about and filling our days with tasks, both actual and imaginary. We are so afraid of quietness and silence, and 'watching the flowers bloom', that should we find ourselves in such a situation, a voice from within starts flogging us, causing guilt feelings to balloon, making us believe that we are lazy louts, and are not doing.................whatever...
But...
It is in quietness, and solitude and in watching the flowers bloom, that our souls are nurtured...
And...
We can give of ourselves, and make the world a happier and brighter place for someone, somewhere...
So, what is this 'productive engagement'?
Why does this phrase cause so much dread and distress and fear?
For whose benefit is this 'productive engagement' happening?
Think about it for a moment: We feel we are 'productively engaged' when we are rushing about and filling our days with tasks, both actual and imaginary. We are so afraid of quietness and silence, and 'watching the flowers bloom', that should we find ourselves in such a situation, a voice from within starts flogging us, causing guilt feelings to balloon, making us believe that we are lazy louts, and are not doing.................whatever...
But...
It is in quietness, and solitude and in watching the flowers bloom, that our souls are nurtured...
And...
We can give of ourselves, and make the world a happier and brighter place for someone, somewhere...
29 March 2011
Just for you...a favor...
Just for today don't do the things you did yesterday, or planned to do today, or scheduled for today, or felt just had to be done today.
Just for today, do all the things you didn't plan to do, or had not thought about in a long, long while, or had not scheduled, or which you've never done before, or which you secretly thought about doing but had never got down to doing.
Just for today, push out all regular chores and do nothing, absolutely nothing. Only sit around, or walk about, or lounge, or look at the sky, or gaze at a tree, or watch the birds, and let your mind wander - not do the things that need doing, but to dream.
Just for today, silence the clamor in your mind and let quiet flow through every nook and cranny of your being.
Just for today, don't be what anyone, not even your dearest ones, want you to be. See if you can remember who you really are.
Just for today, don't look at the time.
Just for today, do something waaayyyyyyyyyyyy out. Throw all 'shoulds' and 'have to-s' and 'mustn'ts' out...do something which used to give you a lot of happiness, but which has got pushed deeeeeeeeep under all the 'shoulds' and have to-s' and 'mustn'ts'.
.......and you'll see that your day is complete, and you are at peace...
Just for today, do all the things you didn't plan to do, or had not thought about in a long, long while, or had not scheduled, or which you've never done before, or which you secretly thought about doing but had never got down to doing.
Just for today, push out all regular chores and do nothing, absolutely nothing. Only sit around, or walk about, or lounge, or look at the sky, or gaze at a tree, or watch the birds, and let your mind wander - not do the things that need doing, but to dream.
Just for today, silence the clamor in your mind and let quiet flow through every nook and cranny of your being.
Just for today, don't be what anyone, not even your dearest ones, want you to be. See if you can remember who you really are.
Just for today, don't look at the time.
Just for today, do something waaayyyyyyyyyyyy out. Throw all 'shoulds' and 'have to-s' and 'mustn'ts' out...do something which used to give you a lot of happiness, but which has got pushed deeeeeeeeep under all the 'shoulds' and have to-s' and 'mustn'ts'.
.......and you'll see that your day is complete, and you are at peace...
28 March 2011
24 March 2011
The truth?
Reading this from 'The Bridges of Madison County', stabbed my heart, and stabbed it deep:
'In an increasingly callous world, we all exist with our own carapaces of scabbed-over sensibilities'. What profound, piercing and soul-churning words...
Point is, we build our own shells, we scoff at genuine feelings, and so are denied access to, as Robert James Waller says, 'the realm of gentleness', required to understand the beautiful reality of life; a reality that we ourselves have colored with the drabbest and darkest of colors...
'In an increasingly callous world, we all exist with our own carapaces of scabbed-over sensibilities'. What profound, piercing and soul-churning words...
Point is, we build our own shells, we scoff at genuine feelings, and so are denied access to, as Robert James Waller says, 'the realm of gentleness', required to understand the beautiful reality of life; a reality that we ourselves have colored with the drabbest and darkest of colors...
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