"Wonderland?"

I am a self- confessed book addict; the aroma of a book, the feel of the paper in my hands, the sound of the turning pages are enough to transport me into another world. And fantasy has been my favourite genre , ever since I laid my hands on my first Enid Blyton. Till today ‘Alice in wonderland’ ranks amongst my most favorite books ever. I read with equal fervor all the tales of vampires and werewolves etc. that my daughter is currently hooked on. But there is one particular series to which I have never been able to subscribe, no offence meant to J.K.Rowlings, but ‘Pottermania’ has completely and totally eluded me.

Of late though, I have started feeling as if my body is behaving like a Harry Potter spell gone terribly wrong. Lets start with the events of about a year ago – I have always prided myself on being blessed with a fair share of the grey matter but Really! Does my brain have to make such a statement about it?! In an average human being there is a certain volume of Cerebral serum fluid which is produced which keeps the brain fertile and balanced. In my case, the brain, suddenly finding itself totally and utterly ignored and unused decided to take matters unto itself and started producing more than twice the volume of CSF giving me a disease called ‘Benign Intercranial Hypertension’ (quite a mouthful – but as my friends say , ‘anything less complicated would not suffice’). This means that the doctors have to stick a needle and pipe into my spine and drain out the excess fluid and keep me on medication until it is possible to do so without surgical intervention (which would require a shunt being placed in the spine to do the job- My daughter’s take on this is ‘after you’ve had your gall bladder and appendix removed now you’ve started having stuff put in instead?!’)

Descending from the brain, lets move to the eyes. Having seen enough of the world around them and since I was not providing them with much variety in any case they suddenly decided that they had seen enough and gave up the ‘vision’ one fine day, leaving me (and my doctors) clueless. There were so many vials of blood taken out for testing so many possible diseases (some found even in the African jungles – must be a carry over of some previous lifetime or a lesser evolved state)that I think it would have been enough for entire body blood transfusion of a needy soul. And after all that when they could find nothing (having even suspected cancer and drilling into my various bones for biopsies) they simply shrugged it off as an ‘auto immune disorder’ with the possibility of recurrence at any given time. And I say Thank You Science!

During the above mentioned period of darkness they pumped in all kinds of steroids into my body and though my system handled it all bravely (other than for the fact that I started resembling a gas balloon ready for take off at any time), it did have its own aftermath. My intestines have now decided that they have had enough of digesting all those bitter pills that are my daily bread and need some fresh air and change of scenery! So they are threatening to step out of my stomach at any given moment of time and are required to be kept under close observation and near starvation lest they find that extra burst (!) of energy.

It doesn’t all end here though because adversity forges its own bonds and my ilia (the leg bone) and the hip joint have become great friends in these times so much so that they have broken all the distances that separated them and though im glad to see this show of solidarity, it is awfully painful for me when I want to indulge in normal human activities like walking or even turning over in my sleep.

And now I wish I had the magic wand of Potter and could mumble some jumbled up words and set it all right, as it were once…or maybe that was my fantasy too..

the karma chameleon

'The travails of life are a part of the travel of life' has been my credo and therefore, I have always believed in putting my best foot forward and moving on from the here and now, without wasting my thought on the how and why of untoward incidents.


And yet there are times when one is overwhelmed, by the regularity of mishaps and there comes to the mind the question about the relevance of ‘Karma’. If all events in life are a function of ones actions, past or present, one’s karma, as they say, then why is it that the conscious mind does not register such a plethora of negative actions which might be the cause of the spate of bad luck.

 We can, perhaps, then extend the karma to stretch to previous lifetimes, the cycle of life and death, which may be resulting in the ill fortune that strikes one. If it is the endeavour of the evolved soul to terminate this cycle in this lifetime, through the medium of one’s actions, then it also transpires that this fact would register somewhere in the so called eternal ledger of actions and their outcomes.



This could be the reason that one suddenly feels that there is an overflow of bad luck – because it has been registered in the Cosmos, that in the case of this individual, it is time for the vicious Circle to come to a stop and the good deeds notwithstanding, the karma of all bad deeds, past or present, therefore, has to be borne out in this one lifetime.

 The night then seems darkest because sunrise is  a little way away, on the other side of the horizon. Or maybe this is the wishful thinking of an eternal optimist….

in a meditative mode..

A disciple once went to his spiritual guru and requested that he be taught the art of meditation, to still his wandering mind and resolve the conflicts amongst his thoughts. The teacher asked him, "Tell me what you conceive meditation to be." The disciple's ponderous reply was thus, " Meditation is a technique of Yoga or spiritual awakening which leads the mind to freedom from constricting thoughts. It teaches a person to empty one's being from reality and the conflicts that arise from it. It is an exercise in the negation of thoughts and the self, whereby the practitioner becomes one with the universe." The teacher then smiled and said,"if this is your perception of what you want to achieve (where you want to arrive) then I'm not equipped to guide you there, you must seek another..."

I have always considered my spiritual quotient to be high and yet despite the fast emerging trend of seeking spiritual guidance to quell one's doubts and practice of various skills, acquired solely with the intention of finding 'peace', I have never had a desire to learn the 'art of meditation'. In the recent past, when the mind has been overwhelmed, at times, with confusing, often incoherent thoughts, the question has arisen in my mind as to how I would define 'meditation', were I to seek solace in the practice of it.

The wikipedia describes the etymology of 'meditation' as a derivative of the Latin word 'meditatio' meaning any type of intellectual exercise, which later evolved to contemplation. I believe then, that meditation is not a transition from a conscious to non-conscious state (so to say), it is an act of active will where one learns to tune into ones own thoughts, to an extent that one is able to smoothly transit from one thought to another, granting cognizance to the desirable and shunning the wasteful, so that there remains no scope for any conflict in the mind.

It is not the negation of thought. A thought is like a coiled spring and the more one stretches/pulls away from it, the greater the velocity with which it strikes back, when left unattended (and often at moments most unexpected). Thus meditation, in order to be a stress liberating process, has to mean the empowerment of the mind with the ability to recognise/sort/accept/discard thoughts and this is a 'state of being' which cannot be limited to a few minutes/hours of a day. It has to evolve into a mental framework through which one functions, every moment, each day and for all the days of one's life.

 I seek to transcend myself to that level of consciousness and not make do with interim intervals of awakening in the form of the commonly perceived notion of meditation..

the script..

I was talking to someone recently who plans to write screenplays/scripts for hollywood. He gave me some interesting information; that in any good Hollywood movie the twist in the plot, so to say, happens at around the 27th minute. He said  it wont happen at the 17th minute or after the the 30th and you can actually time it to happen around the 27th minute. He also said that every story has a beginning and a climax at the end, its the middle which lags and people who are learning how to write professionally are really trained to handle that middle.

This set me thinking.. isn't that somewhat true of most of our lives too. We have a beginning and the 'twist in the tail' which sets the pattern for the future narration happens around the 27th year, give or take some and then we have the ending, as pre-ordained, settling down into the susnset years and then fading away into another life or land, maybe...the sequel waiting to be written. Its 'the middle which lags' that holds true for the story of our lives that rings out clearly; hence the term 'mid-life crisis'.

Most people who live truly happy (aka successful by my definition) lives are the ones who have trained themselves to handle the middle well. Sadly though, there is no school for training us in this, life itself being the classroom. And if one can learn to handle the 'fall years' with grace and enthusiasm, it will be a story well lived, one which can be narrated or remembered posthumously, with a sense of joy and nostalgia..with a desire to be part of the sequel too.

a time to fly..

In the last few days my life has suddenly assumed a new aura, a warm glow that fills my heart with peace even at the most turbulent times. This blog then, is symbolic of the new pattern that emerges. My child, who has achieved what she has been striving for, for the past two years, is responsible for the glow that envelops me. While I was taking her through the preparations for her interview, there was a moment of insight for me as well. Her spontaneous answer to the question, “who is your role model and why” was," my mother, because she has taught me that one must live by one’s convictions and have the courage and belief to know that you will reach your destination in life, wherever it may be, if you can stand up for what you believe in and never lose faith”… A mouthful of words in a voluble gush (just like the wordsy person she is) but it set me thinking. I should have felt pride but the only feeling that I had was of an intense desire to shield her and hold her in my arms, for a moment I even thought that I should tell her to reconsider her response but it was so straight from her heart that I couldn’t. But I wish I could tell her that its not an easy path to tread..there is a lot of loneliness and at times heartbreak too. And one has to constantly draw from one’s soul to find the courage to walk alone, if there is no fellow traveller, it can be emotionally draining and there are times when you wish you could take the easy way out. However, I do know this – if my child has chosen to walk a certain path she will emerge a winner because even at this young age she has the courage to dream (and im an eternal dreamer too) and the fortitude to make those dreams a reality. She is ready to test her wings and a silent prayer (which is always in my heart for her) will be the wind beneath her wings and she will fly, free and spirited. If I could be even a small part of her flight to happiness, I feel blessed, not proud…

closure...not compromise

Two travellers on a road together look at the distant horizon, see a storm gathering, the sky takes on a sombre menacing view. One of them, the wiser one (?) chooses to change his path and avoid a confrontation with the storm and correct his course later, when the storm has passed. He asks his companion to do the same. But the other opts to continue on his chosen path, undaunted by the gathering clouds...I know which of the two travellers I would choose to be and yet there is this question, is it foolhardy to go on in the face of danger, to ignore the looming threat? Most people would say that it would be false bravado rather than bravery. It would be wiser and saner to take retreat until the danger passes you by. I cannot abide by that, however. I think it would make me that much more hardy, having weathered the worst of times, my steps would be steadier and surer, in the face of the next calamity that strikes me and i would find within me the courage to withstand rather than the instinct to withdraw. This perhaps is the reason why I cannot abide by people who seek refuges or shelters, who would rather be stifled in the cocoon than sacrifice their comfort zone. It is also a yardstick by which i measure the degree of acceptance that i can accord, in my personal space, to a person. For those who do not have the conviction to stick to their chosen course, I am no one to sit judgement but i do have the choice that they be not more than faces in the milieu, not co-travellers on the journey of my life. For people who I might have held dear and valued but can do no more, this is all i have to say, you chose what was right by you and i will stand up to my convictions, please do not seek a compromise in either and undermine the essence of our individual lives....

The warmth of winter...

Its my favourite time of the year again. Its time to air the woollies, to remember the smell of moth balls and the cuddly feel of sweaters and shawls waiting to wrap you up in their comforting embrace; somehow it seems as nostalgic as a homecoming.

No other season requires such active participation both in preparation and farewell, it is truly the most majestic of all turns of time, annually. The year tolls its bells to herald that it must go and be replaced by another incumbent soon.

Those of us who need to update our ledger of events cherish this reminder, accompanied as it is, with the irresistible aromas of the wispy mist, crackling nutmegs, crumbly cakes, ambrosiaic coffee et al.

The year gone by has been one of intense trauma, fears, pains, anguish and seemingly endless darkness. At times it seemed as if there would be no letting up. But there is no bitter after taste at all.

All that remains now is the cherished realization that I never thought I had so much patience (having a mind addled with a hundred thoughts at any point of time) or that I would find within such a reservoir of fortitude to face the travails.And Surprisingly, instead of feeling cheated I actually feel enriched.

The year that was will be a watershed in my life. But I will never wish it undone because it helped me to meet not only me (with a pointer to the direction my life must take in the future) but also gave me some of my most emotional and proudest moments…

… Moments when I felt that if I could evoke even half the love that was showered on me (and some of it from most unexpected quarters) each day of every season of my life was well lived and worth it all.

So let the cool winds blow, I’m cocooned forever in the warmth of my life and the lifelines of love that keep me going…