Divinity within

Heard this interesting idea today, that there is a place nearby where people gather for a Satsang ( a group of people meet and recite hymns and chants of divinity and goodness and propagate the essence of beautiful life. They try to attain peace of mind and purpose of life by meditation and goodwill..). Now I love Satsangs, especially when the divine songs are very musical and interesting to sing in groups and ambiance is amazing. I have been to few of the full moon sat sangs and simply loved them.

 But this one seemed different, a group of people from all class strata gathering nearby a slum,  discussing the presence of divine element in each and everyone of us. Now that's a core ideology of Hinduism that "divinity resides within us", nothing new there. But these people they bent before each and everyone in salutation and respect to that divinity within each other. They take resolves to work very nicely in whatever capacity they can for others, as "serving others" is the true meaning and purpose of life. Infact Serving is the mark of life, others are again a reflection of you at varied stages, some would say, I dunno- haven't interpreted any Vedic gyan yet.

Well somehow I felt bending to others in faith that I am acknowledging the goodness, the piousness and the holy in you - was refreshing to hear and maybe even a good massage to let go, of the haughty self image we cling to. Yet I found it to entertain the devil within more than the divine. Isn't divine supposed to be modest, with no intentions of being overtly prayed just of help and of bliss - with no strings attached or expectations.. Well there I was confused - if we are divine and we are devil, and they are one form of the same supreme.. then why you need to bent at all.. it should be self-evident . But Guess some things just seem so fine to do, maybe they make you realize something deeply at crisis and times you would otherwise won't. Will be good to attend sometime - will see.

Poverty..absolute wretchedness and life..

Today I sat thinking why being poor is so bad, after all? I read Jane Eyre a few days back, in which she leaves everything and finds herself devoid of a place to sleep, a meal to eat and even a penny for any damn thing. She is very well educated person, so she thinks she can get a job, any job. Three days of asking each and everyone for any job, some job and she couldn't get anything, her hopes dashed and people looking at her with suspicion, she couldn't even sell her handkerchief and things to afford a meal. She eats the meal thrown out for animals.. very stale and poisoned one could think of in wildest dreams..

But something seemed at odds there. Its not the story of a century back. It seemed like a day to day tale. Why poverty brings with it - the hatred, distrust and ill-treatment by people. I mean anyone can land up in a tragedy - you maybe a millionaire - you can find yourself stranded on some place with nothing and if you are to be treated like that, what will happen to your so long lectures of humanity.

And she was not even begging - she was asking for a trade or a job..a menial job.  Why all want to cling to their accumulated paper - notes and let a being die on road and not even leave him alone. But show in extreme's your hatred and inhumane condition of him and treat him worser than a stray dog.

God bless our soul, if we can't see our own being - in need and part with a meal atleast or share it.

Well not that I am a saint. It made me recollect an incident of my childhood. We were living in mountainside, which was very unsafe area- being forest reserve centre, dangerous animals roamed around freely at night and people always were in the safety of their home after 7PM, no matter what. Leopards were sighted walking on the road and what not. Now my Papa is a unique being, as I guess we all might be, but he is the one very true to himself and his values and notion of honesty. Noone stands if he has acknowledged the virtue of some task.

Well he was very late one day, we all were very scared and were waiting for him. It was in winter - when snowfall happens and people dangerously slip all the time while walking, though I don't think it was snowfilled yet- anyways it was too cold out to roam at night also). He came back around 8PM I guess, but not alone.  He had a very drunk man, not well kept, seemed like a habitual drunkard to me, I was 9yrs or something. He kept uttering something and doing weird things, he was not even stable enough to walk. He was unable to tell where his home was or any contact number ( only landlines were prevalent at that time, no police station was nearby I think). Papa held him and took him inside the house and asked Mom to bring food for him. Now we were kids at that time, my Mom was very skeptical of the guy. She gave the food but she was concerned how to get rid of him. We were 5 little kids in house and we 4 being girls, she was really at her wits end - to allow any unknown entity encroach on house in this terrible senseless state. Now it was a dilemma - Papa insisted let him stay for now, will make him go to his place next day as early as possible.

I don't remember exactly what happened, I think  - he stayed at the spare room nearby kitchen but I don't recall anything. Yet that day I was against him being at our home and very much surprised how can Papa even think of bringing him home. I am still not sure whether I'll be happy to entertain anyone myself, under similar circumstances. But that makes me wonder - how the hell we are so concerned about the safety - that we can't trust anyone, genuine. How fraudulent people have tempered our humanity - to make us stones to the sufferings of genuine people. I dunno..

Just that these two images - somehow seem so intertwined and disturbing to me, that I had to write it and let it out of my nerves..

Maybe someday - it won't be like this..

The Piazza Tales...Herman Melville

After Jane Eyre, its time for 'The piazza tales' ..seems like a pretty big book.. Hope to finish it by the weekend. Looking forward to it..

Jane Eyre

Reading Jane-Eyre for the 3rd time, and can't stop marveling how much I associate to this kid, this passionate kid, suppressing and suffering and letting out words in full force. Now its not the story that is of interest but the depiction.. Should read classics more often. One time is just waste for the interest is on the story and how it ends.......But after that everytime you read it, it seems anew, emerging with a new light, a new insight a new beauty and marvel of the great art work. Besides what a lovely and sincere dialogue delivery, how can anyone depict all the thoughts in such a way to stir you to the core, as if you were there, witnessing it and you smile and laugh and cry and shout with the kid.. in her lonely sojourn and fight.

What it is to be a Slave..

Today I got to feel a little of what it would mean to be a slave. Slave not as a person, but as a nation, ruled by some beings of other nation, dictating terms to us and treating us lower. Well it was nothing just a chat, where I heard a foreign official restricting access to our own place and saying, "you will be kicked out if you don't adhere to the timings laid down." Though it was not addressed to me, I felt a rage.. that who the hell are you to tell me, what I can or should do in my own place. At that time it struck me, being a full time person of an enslaved country, with no voice, no rights and exploited in every way, I would definitely fight for freedom, lay down my life to achieve that end.

Though I won't go for non-violence, for giving the other face for them to hit, won't be my idea .. I wonder how difficult it would be to persuade people to do that. Gandhi must be a wizard, I donno.. but if someone mistreats you, I think I believe in reciprocating or if not match, than discarding all contacts altogether, but to be there, showering yourself as sacrifice for more torture, with the hope it will ignite the humanity in the enemies heart. Well I don't understand it..Maybe some day, Like today I can understand slavery.. I may end up understanding non-violence as a means, maybe ultimate means, to end it..

Abbey Prevost - Manon Lescaut

I read this book yesterday, quite an indulging book. It defines, explores and depicts the threads of so called love and relations which bind us together. The thing which struck me most, is how our life turns and all our convictions take an unprecedented change, which is unfathomable to those with whom we have spent so much time in our life, that they feel that they know us through and through. But how much do we know ourselves, to have a claim of what we would do in any scenario!

Well in this novel, a guy perfect in all sense of societal status, conduct and family upbringing, lands up in most abhorrent scenarios and scams, becomes a part of malice with full knowledge of what is he meddling with, yet with pure heart and intentions of pure love. Rather than dwelling in the impact he is causing around, he is contended chasing "the love", he is so sure -'is heavenly' and justifies each cruel deed in the name of "symbolic love" which can't be found in any other being.

Fathoming such a state of someone which makes them turn a blind eye to the destitute position and dearths that relation was leading them into, is glaring. Not just this, the resorting to cheating and manipulation and maligned social conduct with so much ease, construe truth in a manner to befit your own agenda, make use of people intentionally and analyze words to make a better impact on the sense and sensibilities of respected lot, it all seemed a vice personified in all its religious and social sense. Yet there I was unable to define the life, he lead and the choices he made, whether there was, if any, better alternative.. a more peaceful end, wasn't the experiences he had- made him the best man living, a survivor in all scenarios...though the word he used was "wretched"  over and over again. Yet somehow it seemed like a beam of know-how and practical conduct often in the background.

As for the heroine of the plot, she is shown to be maligning, manipulative, misrepresenting, devoid of any notion of fidelity in front of money and affluence. Yet she is tender and very humane, not a beast. She plots for fraud after fraud, being caught in a insurmountable abyss for it, yet couldn't deter from trying it again, in the flimsy cover of revenge. Revenge for what? Your own deceit. Yet towards the end, she indeed seems like a fine lady, leaded by debauchery throughout her life, yet filled with human values and conduct - betrayed by her impressionist beauty which leads her to a wretched end. I couldn't fathom - how can anyone crave for material things to the extent of bearing harshest punishment, yet not abandoning the behavior. Is behavior an ingrained part of ourselves? Or is it the experiences which shape them - as we live on  and accumulate years of existence?   

Not just love of lovers, but it gives a new dimension to the bond of Parents and child, and of Friends..

Unknown person going to their own ruin to facilitate another person, in extremely wrong manner, yet without flinching as theirs is supposedly a true love. Its a motivation enough, to justify and indulge in playing the role of rescuer. No other thought of righteousness of sacrificing their own security of four walls and high family, for someone unknown. What about the values they have been given, somehow they take a back-seat, when what governs the actions - is pure passion and the notion of being of help, for someone's true love. ..

Father, depicted in more earthly, real cruel, calculative and material being, yet pardoning the child to the extent possible, not as indulgent of their poor choices, as the young lot, yet ready to pardon all the done deeds, if only they move ahead......

Childhood friend deceived again and again, maybe taken for granted, yet trying till the end, to help the friend come out of, so perceived dearth, and unflinching in loyalty no matter what may come.

An amazing book representing human actions and relations - in a new light. An in depth depiction of the layers and layers of so called values and vice or right and wrong. Somehow you would stand beside the hero at the last, also with the heroine in her end, though they lived a blunder in all its sense, yet it seems deeper  - a complex threads of existence, rather than malice personified or their fault. Redefining the notion of relative good or bad conduct and reinforcing our sense that nothing is absolute or forever in life...

Must read book, nevertheless.

http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/468

fiasco's happen..no matter what u intended!!!

You imagine a perfect plan and execute it to the details.. and yet here you are faced with unwarranted glitches, unfathomable stupid turns and even before you can blink..its only one word which fits...its a huge FIASCO!!. The thing with us is we perceive , what we see. The How's and Why's are immaterial. Anyways here I am amidst a fiasco, can't be sure how could I helped it. Maybe  next time before even imagining something, I'll precheck all probable glitches and then raise my arms--- This is it..live with it!!! But for now, its here, unseen..