Thursday, 19 November 2009
Friday, 21 August 2009
Thursday, 9 July 2009
Sunday, 26 April 2009
There is no defence here; I confess that the attachment is physical. And it is difficult to imagine it otherwise, because if I truly believe them to be my father, mother, brother, sister and friend, which I do, then as a human being I should also be allowed to long for the physical space that I would expect to share with those people.
There are times when I want nothing more then to be a grandchild sleeping in Nanak's lap, or a daughter resting my head against Ram Das's knee, or a servant with my arms curled around Gobind's feet. I want to be blessed by a hand on my head. To be humbled by touching my forehead on the Marble Floor. To be warmed by the glow of joyful Harkrishan.
Is it a justification to say that although these are physical attachments, they exist to pursue a spiritual experience?
I am only human, after all.
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
If life was to put a name to this Lesson, I think it would be called: A Lesson in Love. Bringing me towards this book reminded me that perhaps the greatest form of worship is the service of the world we live in. Sikhs of course understand this concept as Seva. But this is not Seva as we understand, or rather misunderstand it. This is Seva as in Manas Ki Jaat Sabhe Eykay Pehchaanbo, recognising the human race as one (Guru Gobind Singh).
As much as it sounds like a happy-daisy, care bear, slightly-on-a-high philosophy, I think it's also the toughest one there is. To utterly and totally love one person is challenging enough. But to take that concept and extend it to every living, breathing organism we know and will know of? That is near-impossible. Almost as impossible as believing in the existence of Miss Lulu.
Logically, though, if we think about it, this should be the easiest thing there is! If I can accept that we are all made of the same elements and by the same creator, and that He/She lives in all of us, then you are really just an extension of me. How hard can it be to love an extension of myself? Even if that extension was large enough to stretch my imagination?
Don't we all know the answer to this one - EGO :) It's all about me, honey. Me, and MY love, and MY God, and MY faith. By the time I've filled in the 'me's, there is no room for anything else, not even for Miss Lulu's Needle of Life-Lessons. By filling all the space out with Me, we paradoxically create a vacuum where there is nothing.
Miss Lulu had one more point to make. Just in case I got the message wrong, and only remembered to love humanity, She caused me to witness a fascinating incident.
It was lunchtime at work, and we were enjoying the sunny day by eating outside.
Enter: Pigeon. Sad, scruffy looking pigeon.
Enter: Nice Lady, on the phone.
Enter: RSPCA, on the line with Nice Lady.
If you've lived in London (perhaps this is also true in other parts of the world), you learn to dismiss pigeons very quickly. Much to the public's distaste, they are everywhere, they are a nuisance (so much so that people console each other by saying that it's lucky if they poop on you), thus leading to the unaffectionate label of 'pest'. Besides an obsession with the weather and a love for curry, nothing unites Londoners more than an utter loathing of pigeons.
Monday, 19 January 2009
I love stuff.. and I collect tonnes of it. Anything that has even a little bit of a memory attached to it, I either have it in a box somewhere or it's on display in my room. It's not that I think I'm ever going to use it or need it, I just have problems letting go... so by now you can imagine that I have a LOT of stuff!!
Problems of letting go stretch to other things as well - I still carry around stationery from more than 10 years ago, and for more recent gadgets, I kept my phone for longer than was necessary just because I got too attached to it. No, you don't understand, it really really needed to go, but after being with me for so long I couldn't imagine giving it up! I wonder if it's because I like to name things... this is a nasty habit I picked up from Surabhi (more on this crazy nut later), and once you give something a name you're a goner! Ok, so I've already admitted that I've got issues lol :p.
Anyway.. recently, my dear phone, that I named Orissa (long story for another time :p), reached her deathbed. She was practically on life support (read: needed to be constantly charged) and randomly went into cardiac arrest (read: phone would go dead in the middle of a conversation). Recognising that perhaps I'd held on for too long, I decided to get a replacement. SHHHHH don't say it too loud, she might hear you :)
My dear friend Surabhi, recognising how painful this experience would be for me, tried to ease the pain by writing a beautiful poem for Orissa. She got the gender a little confused, but otherwise it's an absolutely ridiculously nutty poem, one that I'm sure Orissa would appreciate. So here goes:
Ode to the mobile phone
The autumn wind blows strong
Bringing forth the wintery gray skies
Those sunny days, they are long gone
And here, Kiren is left, with her mobile
She stares at it with apprehension
Tis a tragic story, an Aesop Fable,
However can she explain to it
That she hath replaced it! Oh, the betrayal!
As she whispers those painful words,
Tis most difficult for the mobile to endure,
How else to react in that excruciating moment?
When told 'I dont need you anymore'
Kiren thinks, 'Ah, how lucky I am'
'To have such an understanding phone'
'He could have screamed, shouted, sued me for abuse'
'As I leave him all alone'
He knows that it is time to go,
He hath served her well, tis true,
But now, he falls apart at the seams,
And all that keeps him together is a huge tube of UHU glue
He cries, She cries
They all cry, they tear, they bawl,
He because he knows the end is near
She because she cant hear people who call her at all
He knows the end has come
When he hears excitement in her voice, her tone,
For what is this arrived, in a brand new box
Why, it is a lovely new mobile phone!
'Goodbye world' says Mobile,
As he turns off his light for the very last time,
'Forgive me, for my sins I must atone'
Before the midnight hour doth chime
And so we come to the end of Mobile's tale
But for him the end is merely a beginning, a start,
And he knows, that whatever Kiren may have to do,
He is her one true love, within her heart.