Mind & Body

Mind & body

My mind woke up before the alarm bell rang. Thoughts crept in the vacuum of my mind. Many unfinished tasks, incomplete projects, some happy faces, some stern deadlines all were wandering in those thoughts. Mind was already on work. Got to do this. Need to start this. This can be done in this way. One by one my mind was actively finding solutions. But the body failed to respond. In my mind all tasks were finished, projects completed and there were many more happy faces including my own.  It’s been the story for years now. My body never matches the active and enthusiastic mind. Slowly the laziness of my body creeps back in my mind and there I doze off into sound sleep again. Alarm rings, snoozes a ten times but now my body and especially my mind just wants to sleep. As such it has worked hard you know in the midnight. And so continues the story of waking up late and rushing with everything.

It is easier thought than ever done.

A Different Drama

A Different Drama

Oil is heating in a black pan. All spices are been collected around. And here starts the sputtering of mustard. How relishing is that sound! Throw in the curry leaves n watch them sizzle on the pan floor. Pungency catches up the nose with crushed garlic pod in. Still color hasn’t played much role in the drama so here comes the golden turmeric. Now need to heighten the drama n my hand automatically goes in n picks dry red chillies. There they go in splitting sputtering crackling n me covering my coughing mouth. The drama now is so intense n reached its peak that it has to just soothe down with the yellow dal swiveled in the pan. And now the romance starts building with all colors, aromas blending in the delicious healthy yellow color. Romance can’t be complete without some twist so here comes a pinch of asafetida n some sour kokam. Boiling n blending keeps happening, enriching the relationship. It all comes to a great finish by blessings of salt n smiles of generous bunch of coriander. Happy ending.

Emptiness..

There are several times of emptiness. One of which I am experiencing now. You have nothing to do. I am early. So I have to wait. I have my laptop, diary, phone but no wish to do anything particular. Rather it feels good to do nothing but just sip on the freshly brewed lemongrass tea.

The lemongrass is beautifully infused. The aroma is freshening. Music is soothing. I can sit up whole day doing nothing. Is it really necessary to do something, something productive at every minute, everyday? Is nothingness harmful? Or am I already doing something? Typing in my thoughts in the phone notes. The experience of nothingness and quietness is so rich that I couldn’t stop myself.

Silence is beautiful indeed. You can actually hear your mind talk with a voice that resembles you. You can actually feel few hairs flying over the face. The fragrance in the small teapot feels to have filled the atmosphere.

Something is breaking the silence. Ohh!! It’s the music around. Cluttering of cups and saucers, screeching of chairs, dropping pen in pen stand, spoon on saucer, shutting and opening of cabinet doors, tapping steps on stairs, whistles of pressure cooker, whirling of fans and now a phone ringing (that’s a noise outside the charming music). If there had been noise around, this unusual musical treat would have submerged in it and never be heard. Its the emptiness in and out of me that I could witness to feel all the aromas and music around.

A Victory

She was massively trembling from the inside. But no one could see. Huge waves of terror, shock, disgust were hitting on the inside of a frozen body of hers. The man whom she called uncle had spoken expressively about his 10 year old daughter some time back was now touching her inappropriately. On the last seat of the silent bus was a crime happening. A crime that could shake her belief in the people. Could she trust any other uncles in the future? What happened to the sweet talk he did of his own daughter? Could he not see his daughter in this 15 year old girl? While touching her how could he forget his daughter too had uncles and she too travelled in bus? But at that moment what should the girl do? I said shout aloud girl. She said “But no one knows me.” I said get up and go. She said “Where? He comes at my home also regularly. Is he really doing something wrong or am I just feeling it? I can’t understand.” And she sat there frozen. But then came a moment when his touch shook her soul. Something burned up inside her and she with full force hit him with her elbow in the stomach. He growled with pain holding his stomach. With the highest force she shouted, “Stop touching me, you dirty creature.” She was free. Everyone looked upon him as she walked from there and got down the bus. There was a victory. I, her mind never felt more confident.

‘Man se ravan jo nikale, ram uske man mein hai..’

How true it is! I don’t know about the God or the King. I believe Ram and Ravan both are concepts. Both exist in our minds. Everyone’s mind carries their own Ram and Ravan every day, everywhere. Life tests us with various situations. It is in our hands to choose. We have the power to decide whose hand to hold while walking the journey. Does the Ram in us overpower the Ravan or the Ravan rides our decisions?

We visit temples and pray God to help us follow the right path and give us the strength to do so. But forget the power within. Wouldn’t it be easier if we visited the God within us? We can fool the whole world. But how can we fool our self?

WHO ARE YOU?

Who are you?

Are you the name you carry? Or the perception everyone carries about you? We care so much about the perceptions after all. Are you the body that is seen, touched and cared for or something invisible, abstract? Are you your thoughts or are you the actions?

You are definitely not the designation on table. You might be the relationships. A brother. A friend. A mother. Do you believe you are the religion or the nationality? Are you identified by your qualifications or by your assets, by your beauty or the intelligence? All these are attributes. But who are you?

Who am I? Am I a human? A good human? Who will decide the goodness or the badness? Is there a universal standard scale to measure it? The body that moves around with pride will be burnt or buried one day. My thoughts come and go in matter of seconds. My speech may never be heard. My words will go unread. My success will lose to other successful people. My nationality will cease if all borders are wiped clean someday. If all gods are one, where does my religion stand? Money doesn’t matter to me and no one today asks my qualifications. Relationships might last a little longer until the people I know live.

Just out of curiosity, if I ask a saint, “Who are you?” what will he say? If you ask a rapist or a murderer, “Who are you?” What will be his reply?

Am I my own idea? I am not finding an answer to “Who am I?” Do you know? Who are you?