The mystic fragrance left on my sandals.

The subdued sunshine over the mountains, the chirping of birds, the pitter-patter of raindrops, many hues of splendid flowers, the rustling of leaves, the fickleness of winds, the magical flux of a stream wholly riddled all my senses. My senses benumbed to saturation with the divine nature. There was no other me other than the one in oneness with the nature. I rested my body against the lush green carpet. The cool headed grass blades swaying over my forehead stilled me to peaceful thoughts. I swam in the contemplation of my thoughts and desires. I hit my little mind asking, “When we have access to such beautiful nature in abundance, why don’t we utilize this never-ending resource of life and wisdom?” The mightiness of my vivid thoughts seemed inferior in of the power of sleep goddess. At last, my thought power bowed in front of the sleep power, which none ever walked on this earth succeeded to resist and win over. My drooping eyes battling to stay wide and awake ended up tasting darkness.  A beautiful dream or a subtle reality dawned over me completely. There I realized myself lulled in the lap of a never seen yet a much known damsel draped in awesomeness of untainted love.  Her sparkling eyes flooding with love arrested me in all my amazement. I uttered, ‘Who are you and what do you do? Where do you put up?’ She replied in her mesmerizing voice saying, ‘I am mother Nature. I care, nourish, comfort and teach the essence of God planned life of happiness and contentment to all my little children. I am everywhere and accessible to all.’

I poured my curiosity over forgiveness. In all my innocence and with infinite faith in getting an answer, I voiced. ‘What is Forgiveness?’ The damsel smiled at me with pursed lips and said, ‘You have to earn your answer through your own experience but to keep your flame of faith stable, I say that you will get your answer very soon.’

A raindrop over my cheek mustered up to shook me off. My eyes that were gazing at the infiniteness of the clear sky, obligated to view the gray sky infused with fully blown clouds. The last thing that echoed in my ears was, “You will get your answer very soon”. I was just wondering how that would be possible ever. It was just a dream. One part of me was completely nullifying my hope about getting an answer and the other part was fueling my faith. Clueless of how to strike a balance between these two conflicting ideas, I tried to be diplomat. I settled to go on with my instincts that were directing me to something good to happen.  Suddenly, I earned that the nature was painting itself in pitch black. Shutting off my reasoning mind, I immediately took to my heels. On my journey back home, I did not really notice what was brutally been crushed underneath my feet. I was just carrying the sorry feeling for the unknown souls. I reached my home gasping for breath. To my surprise, there was no one at home. To stamp out the lonesomeness inside and outside of me, I just willy-nilly picked up a book from my Grandpa’s library. I read few quotes from the book. The queasiness left behind by my irrational dream did not allow for concentration. I felt like closing the book but was not able to, as something was hinting me to certain thing inside the book. A complete bizarre experience took hold of me. A feeling that be forced neither to dance to the tune of ink nor be confined to few strokes on keyboard nor be rendered a voice.

I carefully furnished my view all over the inside of that book. My eyes refused to move further at one point, where they wedded to quote that said, FORGIVENESS IS THE FRAGRANCE THAT THE VIOLET SHEDS ON THE HEEL THAT HAS CRUSHED IT. The air grew tacit with me and I sensed something nameless in the room. I hotfooted to the living room, where my sandals reposed unconsciously as if they smelt out something uncanny and swooned…………..one at the shoe stand and other at the dining table. I guess, the one at the table tried to break away but gave up ending at the feet of a dining chair. I observed that the blood of those crushed down painted my white pair of sandals with purple hues. I was puzzling over many and so I tried to calm down my anxiety. I recollected that the violets on which I stamped over while I was running in the dark rendered my sandals a purple stain. On the other sandal, I could find few dead violets who sacrificed themselves for a purpose. However, what could that intent be? I went back to my room and re-read the quote for long. I realized that the nature in the form of those violets taught me a great lesson of forgiveness. Being slave to selfishness, I ran for my life in the dark paying no heed to those crushed down underneath. I convinced myself that I cared for those and I had that sorry feeling while my feet stamped over them but sorry cannot bring a dead violet alive. At last, I defied having a close look at those dead violets. They seemed smiling. It was awesome! They smelled sweet. It was fantastic.

The sweet scent pervaded my senses and satiated the air, putting me to disgrace. Those dead souls did not avenge their life; instead, they left a cherished fragrance on the sandal heels, the murderer. More than a mere fragrance of violets, it was a pure forgiveness.  Violets taught me an object lesson. Nature answered me. Yes. Forgiveness is a fragrance left by those who forgive you in spite of the hurts you give them. Let us forgive ALL and let us be the personification of this fragrance.

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Godly Temple or a Ghostly Cemetery?

NOTE : This post is not to offend anyone’s religious belief or personal opinion. This is just a random thought of a troubled mind. I request all the readers to take this idea in a very constructive way. Your respected opinions and answers are always welcome.

Waning of 2012 and waxing of 2013 has taken a toll over my thinking. Abruptly,  my mind started thinking of my body. Without any provocation, my inclination started growing towards deeper subjects of life. I felt an urge to know life after death. My curiosity to know what happens to the soul after it departs from its physical structure was at its heights. I was seeking ways to pacify my agitated mind. To distract my mind from such thoughts, I plugged in the TV.  I watched a documentary film on Aghora. I learnt that the Aghora live on dead and decayed bodies of human. I was literally shocked to learn about such concept. I found the concept of eating dead bodies very insane. How can a human body that is considered a holy temple of God be tainted with the remains of a dead?  Of course, they have their own justifying reasons for their concepts and philosophies. I am not an AGHORA and I do not relish on a dead human. However, a dead is always a dead………….be it a dead body of human or a dead body of an animal.  If I am a non-vegetarian, gorging on dead flesh of lamb, what difference it makes between an Aghora and me.  Should my body that I consider divine, be called a ghostly cemetery if I eat meat of a killed lamb? Will there be any holiness in my body if feed on dead meat?  Do I have any logic to justify myself?

Yearning Expressed!!

I yearn, weep and wail for you, as I know not how to live without you.
Despite all my love for you, no deliverance I beg of you nor any boon except your friendship.
Beloved friend……… a wee drop of your friendship, if vouchsafed.
I fain, would cry and cry with all my heart, day in and day out.
For none or aught on the earth but you, my ultimate refugee.
Won’t you, friend? Won’t you grant this wayward little friend of yours, this least bit of favor?
The one and only blessing I pray for………………

The Perfect Solitude!

In the bedimmed wilderness of the night sky, there came a burnished moon glowing high. Played along with hopeful and cushy warmth, it embraced my shrunken soul. I witnessed the acme of my blush when the glistening moonlight kissed me tenderly in all its elegance. My soul oozed in all the aura of that night beaut.  The balmy sheen dawned graciously over my soul and imbued into infinity so profoundly.  The mercurial and poised breeze that gestated the superbia of inconstancy caressed me mildly every now and then. When it grew fagged, it took a breather and rested in stillness, then again recreated with my brown and wavy crowning glory. When I snubbed its gaiety, it prompted in full swing carrying off all the anguish in me and swamping me in the rain of relaxation. I forthwith fell in love with those pixilated winds that stayed with me wherever I moved.  The time erred from keeping its time and few ephemeral clouds looking at me grew green eyed as the shining beauty was proposing all his honest love to me. Jealousy hugged the clouds so intensely that they engulfed my glowing glory masking me from my love. And there I rested in perfect silence basking under the warmth of lunar love…………….a sheer lunatic feeling……………or mere ecstasy………… I just remained ME.

A Cute Little GUEST or HOST?

It was mid-January, when I switched over to my new home. Sterner and fussier work schedules did not tolerate for leisure packing. I could not afford help from any of my friends as they too had their schedules tightened up to the heights. To my bad, few of the people of whom I was certain were plagued with some or the other pressing errands. The regretful part was with the left over acquaintances that were out of town when I demanded them THE MOST. Whenever my family or any other known family chanced sequential troubles, my granny used to spill her celebrated consoling words, “Miseries comes all at once with their kith and kin.” This stating evidenced true many a times in my life. My granny popped off but her expression stayed on with me, surfacing repeatedly, bearing witness to its existence.

That impuissance experiencing circuitously made me dive deep into my ocean of emotions. I left no stone unturned but all in vain. The awful fibs told by my friends and relatives about the great losses they ached because of the Packers and Movers’ arrogance, ignorance and recklessness made me steer clear of them for few weeks. The more you resist the more it persists held true in my situation. Left with no expected help in my unexpected situation, I had to honor the packers and movers option. I called them early in the morning so that I can brood over the after damage leisurely during the rest of the day, digest it by night, and sleep peacefully until the next morning.

The queasy hour came and they stood in a row in front of my old house’s gate. I lavished an unintended welcome. Just like robots, they came, packed and they moved. After loading the van with my cherishable household items, they posed on those packed boxes. Although the pressure was exerted on those packed boxes, dent was engraved on my heart. The more weight they put on my things, the more heavy my heart grew. Every moment, the van’s tires bumped against the speed breakers on the way, the boxes derailed abruptly causing me feel to jump off the bike and hold the boxes in place. Regrettably, I was not a superwoman to do that stunt. However, I exhibited the agony, the poignancy, the frustration, the depression and my thoughts, squeezing vinu’s collar so tightly that it choked off Vinu’s throat. The more heavy the jerk my boxes presented, the more tightly I squeezed Vinu’s collar. Vinu just sounded out, “No hurry dear! Have patience. Do not rehearse killing. You can do that tout de suite when you reach them.”

Finally, my anxiety ceased the moment the van stepped on the pavement of my new apartment. I evaporated from the site of offloading, as I was certain that if something is damaged, my eyes will deluge with tears. When all those damage creators left, I realized that my cot’s hinges came out loose and two of the legs are broken. Fridge got nicely decorated dimples randomly. These were the notable damages. I did not dare to clear up the bundled boxes.

Alas! I just pulled a chair and sat with a heavy heart in the balcony. The sorriest part was to be alone, with no one to welcome me and no one to be welcomed at my new place. I guess God really found that I need someone to make me feel at home. From obscurity, a little brown puppy hailed running towards my balcony. It dint pay any heed to my presence. It behaved as if it knows the in and out of the house. Several times, it went in and out checking all the boxes, as if it was supervising all the things. Usually I do not care pets but this puppy absorbed my attending. Its conduct afforded me a feel that it is the puppy’s house and it was receiving me into its house. I was even more delirious witnessing the puppy warding off other people who were queer looking into my house. That egged on a secured feeling. Upon inquiry, I learned that the puppy belonged to a petty shop owner who stays half a kilometre away from my flat. This shows that the puppy came all the way from there to my place. I fed few biscuits and it played merrily for a while and then slumbered near the balcony railing. It traveled to us for few consecutive days and then it held back. I guess it smelt out that we are happily settled and are in need of no company. However, the puppy do visited us occasionally and when it did not appear in the vicinity sometimes, Vinu and I made rounds to the shop to feed biscuits to BROWNY, the way we call that puppy. Whenever I felt the damage incurred by the packers and movers, I masked it with a good feeling yielded by BROWNY.

I guess it was this cute little guest cum host that made my day which could have turned into a doom’s day had it not been there for me to welcome.

Hate The Hatred – The forgiveness way!

Right from the time when the hatred takes its first breath in you, your ears go deaf listening up people enjoining, “Forgive, forgive and just forgive. When you embark on conceiving it for the sake of just conceiving, some more estimable band of mortals animates this to the next level by saying “Forgive and Forget”. I guess I, you, and everyone feel the same way……Forgiving itself is so difficult that Forgetting is just inconceivable.

My belief extended much outside this. I exhausted three years of my life involving myself “Why should I pardon them when they have obtruded so much of pain in me? Why should I take pains to exercise forgiveness? Instead, why can’t they learn not to hurt others? Why should I put all the crusades resting there unused in the world to launder that strong steadied down hatred I have for them when they filled me with that filth to the brim by way of their fallacious deeds and ghosting twits? Why should I attain a habit of purifying myself unremittingly of the grime they hurl at me every time and is this the only job left for me to do?  And so on……..” Time blew over and I observed that few halted throwing the mud at me seeing me cleansed but a huge many turned green-eyed seeing me cleansed exceedingly and threw more mud at me. When few stopped for a while, I felt like practicing it a bit more. However, when the rest exhibited the real them, I lost. At that juncture, only once thing tenanted my whole mind space, “WHY CANNOT PEOPLE WITHSTAND MY HAPPINESS?”

A humble and noble monk explicated that nursing the hatred in me; I am nullifying my own good. I am making myself lose by creating the hollowness in me and hollowness can never channel any strength to anything or anyone. The people who cause you to suffer pay no heed to what you are going through and just enjoy their life passing on further. However, the victim looks back every second to brood and relive the experience – slugging oneself in the VIRTUAL PAST, devoid of what the real past wanted to teach, what the present is manifesting into and what good the future will hold for. I started hating and just hating………..What????????? Yes. I started hating the hatred the forgiveness way. I gradually grew a muscle not to resist hatred but to overcome it. The more I resisted the more it persisted. Therefore, I regained the strong muscle by way of complete forgiveness.

Love Looks Forward,

Hate Looks back,

Anxiety Has Eyes All Over Its Head.

Therefore, do not look back or sideways. Just look forward for all the good life has to offer you.

Now, let me introduce you to my humble and noble monk- the good old monk was none other than my only Heart. I am sure it is and will be my forever-personal guidance.

Gimme Your Fat!!!!

I have a skinny sister”Mahi” who always sinks into depression whenever she encounters healthy and fat people. I used to sit along with her while she wonders…….. “What is that which makes them so fat?”  At times I used to fear what if, by any good misfortune, I become fat and Mahi wonder looking at me and say, “What is that which makes her so fat?” This sheer thought was enough for me to keep check on my diet.

It was a Sunday afternoon and I had nothing more to do except imagining at my heights. I was fond of imagination since my childhood. All the memorable things I cherished in life, I accredit to my task of imagination. I was with all my elegance, lying on the couch. Mahi was just out of her slumber and was hunting for some place to lean. The room was all-empty except the couch on which I was lying and a chair that was overburdened with Mahi’s MBA books. I was closely watching her movements. I was sure that a girl who is not able to bear the content inside the books would definitely fail to bear the combined weight of the content, pages and hardcover of the books. I was always fortunate with my guesses. Finding nothing to lean against, she came to me, stood for a few seconds, stared directly in to my eyes, which kicked my imagination. I imagined almighty bestowing her with super power that can engulf anything with just a stare. Her warm back that she rested against my semi warm shoulder blades shook me out of my imagination. I asked her, “You are completely done with your so called sleep debt but why are you still looking grave?” To which she answered, “Yes! I am done with my sleep. I am worried about my skin. It has no fat underneath to back up. Even the stupid computer thing has a back up. Why only me…………..?” Hearing this, I was propelled to invite her into my world of fantasy, where I just bask under my imagination. I promptly asked “Are you interested in being fat like others of whom you wonder?” She just jumped on her knees, held my hand and said, LETS GO PLEASE.

We spared no second to lie down, side by side, but in a reverse direction on the small couch. If someone happened to view from the top angle, we would resemble two matchsticks side by side with two black spots opposite to one another contrasting on a white couch. I nudged Mahi’s right cheek with my right foot signalling the start of our journey. She gently reciprocated – her right foot to my right cheek. She always reciprocates everything-especially the insults! There we took off graciously bidding sayonara to the reality and escaping into our imaginary world. Surrounding things cordially waved at us and we shut our eyes, they too reciprocated by shutting off at us. 1-2-3 and done! There we landed on a fantasy ground with our eyes still shut. Some unpopular voice kissed our ears. It said, “Buy 1Kg of fat and get fat fixing glue free.” Mahi looked at me in utter amazement. I could observe all her senses exchanging glee. Before I could utter a word, she just ran chasing the voice. All I could hear was Mahi on top of her pitch saying “Eureka! Eureka! I found him.” Grown greedy of fat, she was not able to contain herself seeing so much of fat out there. There were only two stores- one store selling the fat for thin people and the other store buying the fat from the fat people. She immediately bought all the fat for herself. Her happiness doubled the moment the fat vendor handed her the fat fixing glue free. While she was busy sticking all the fat to her body, I being little business minded, was wondering what if I put a third store for both selling and buying. I was sure no lazy bums would hesitate to coming to such store, as they do not want to run their shoes to different stores. They would be happy to have a one-stop destination for their buying and selling needs. I would buy the fat for a lesser price and sell it to others at a bit higher price. This business thought was interrupted by the hefty shadow that was overcasting me. It was the Fat Fabricated Mahi. She was not able to walk without support. The unseasoned and instant fat dampened her gait completely. She held my arm while taking steps. I questioned, “Are you okay?” She promptly remarked, “I could feel my fat but since my bones are not used to carry such weight, they are just shaking underneath. It takes some time anyways for them to be adjusted with the new inclusion.” We were so engrossed that we failed to notice the wide pit ahead. She stumbled to ground. I guess she wanted a company even there. As she was holding my arm, she drifted me to the ground. We were living our imagination to the core. Thinking how could anyone live so? Here is the proof. Mahi literally slipped from the couch. It was timely tuned, Mahi falling in the pit with the heftiness of fat in the fantasy world and she landing on the floor from the couch in the real world took place simultaneously. Then I too followed her in the real room – real couch – real floor. The reality stacked me exactly over her thin body. Hearing the thuddddddddddd, mom cam running, trying to understand the scene. She sternly asked pointing at me, “What did you do to her?” I answered with my eyes diving deep beyond the flooring, as I was scared to face my mom’s unsatisfied look. I murmured saying, “All the self help books I read taught me that one should feel what we want in life. Mahi wanted fat and I was making her feel fat through the imagination technique so that she would one day become fat in real.” Mahi was lying on the floor in complete and perfect stillness. To me, she resembled a completely even CHAPATHI (Flat Indian Bread). After a calm of few seconds, there came a storm. Wondering reading the word STORM? Its synonym of my Mom’s taunt. She came so close that I could hear her heart beat and in that anxiety, my heart skipped a beat. She held my arm so tightly that all the nerves, veins, muscles beneath my skin cried for help jumping out of their usual place. Pointing her ever-ready index finger at my motionless sister, she stated – YOU HAVE NOT MADE HER FAT. YOU HAVE MADE HER FLAT ON THE GROUND INDEED.