"Creators"

We seem to be spending so much time on the computer that I think we live in a different world. It has been quite a while since I came out to see the real world. This is becoming quite an addiction.

The touch of the keypad is exciting. Writing used to be the norm, those days. But now with the computer keypads, an upgraded version of the typewriter, writing becomes easier. Writing and being able to delete the unwanted stuff, while changing and doing so many different effects has become so much easier.

This reminds me of "The Canvas" that I wrote about earlier. This whole space is given to us to explore. Creating becomes fun too. The computer is amazing. I am finding out this late! Yes, writing is like an art too. For a painter, the colors, brushes, and the canvas allow him to come out with incredible pieces. The same thing applies to a musician. He may even become amazed with the unimaginable music he comes up with. Every one, who indulges in a creative fashion in fact, becomes a "creator".

Well creation is something incredible. The feeling is exciting. Imagine a child making a sand castle or trying to paint a picture. You can imagine the awesomeness of the whole thing. Each time you upload a picture or create your own stuff, the feeling is a child like jubilation.

My mind irresistibly goes towards the "CREATOR". Too much of a taboo for some, but I feel that this being or thing or whatever you want to call is also creating continuously. A very controversial subject, but I can't help pondering over it though. I am glad that I have passed those forbidden zones and times in my life and you could say I do feel quite comfortable in contemplating and questioning my mind about the Creator!

But this whole thing aside, I sometimes feel that we are totally living in our minds. This is an interesting subject that I want to go into later. I seem to be making the mistake of getting irritated when the phone rings. It puts a stop to the flow of what I am doing. Whether what I am doing is really important is another subject of discussion though!

Well right now, I need to go off to do my daily mundane stuff. Till next time…….

Food for Thought

A Violinist in the Metro

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.
The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written,with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html

Wisdom

By associating with wise people you will become wise yourself.

Menander

The seat of knowledge is in the head, of wisdom,
in the heart.

William Hazlitt

Of all parts of wisdom the practice is the best.

John Tillotson

The more a man knows, the more he forgives.

Catherine the Great

Breathing Therapy

Something interesting I received in an e-mail from a friend.

"Our noses have left and right nostrils. Are these nostrils having the same function for inhaling (breathe in) and exhaling (breathe out)?

Actually it's not the same and we can feel the difference. Accordingly, the right side represents the sun and the left side represents the moon.

When having headache, try to close your right nostril and use your left nostril to do breathing for about 5 min.

The headache will be gone. If you feel too tired, do it the opposite way. Close your left nostril and breathe through your right nostril. After a while, you will feel refreshed again.

Because the right side belongs to heat, so it gets hot easily. The left side gets cold easily..

Women breathe mainly with their left nostril, so they get calm down easily.

Men breathe mostly with their right nostril, so they get angry easily.

When we wake up, do we notice which nostril breathes faster? Is it the left side or the right side?

If the left nostril breathes faster, you will feel very tired. Close your left nostril and use your right nostril for breathing and you will get refresh quickly.

You can teach your kids about it. The effect of breathing therapy is much better for adults.

I used to have painful headache. When consulted a doctor, he told me jokingly," You will be all right if you get married!" The doctor did not bullshit me as he had his theory and supported with testimony.

During that time, I used to have headache every night and I was not able to study. I took medicine but I was not cured.

One night as I sat down to medidate, I closed my right nostril and breathed with my left nostril. In less than a week, it seemed that my headache problem had left me! I continued doing it for about a month and since then there was no recurrence of headache in me.

This is my own experience. I used to tell others who also suffer headache to try this method as it was effective for me. It also works for those who have tried as well. This is a natural therapy, unlike taking medicines for a long time may have side effect. So, why don't you try it out?

Practice the correct ways of breathing (breathe in and breathe out) and your body will be in a very relaxing condition".

Remembrance

I woke up this morning with the remembrance of my grandfather. For the first time in my life, I shed tears in his memory and symbolically touched his feet with my heart. I have not thought of him often, because I have only met him once. He fell ill and wanted to see us all, his son’s children. He was in India and we had to fly immediately to meet him.

I was about twelve years old on my first flight with my brother who was ten then, traveling all by ourselves. The journey was unforgettable. All the air hostesses looked alike to us and we kept counting them again and again adding up to more than one hundred as they kept walking up and down the airplane. It was exciting for us kids to travel unchaperoned for the first time.

The village was slow moving. My memory of my grandfather is still quite vague. He was already of advanced age and his eye sight was failing. As children were, we were more interested in rushing out to see the place rather than staying to talk to him. I was fascinated with seeing the cows behind the house and the padi fields nearby. The mornings started with me running to the fields close by. The water from the dam was used to water the rice fields. It rushed out from the dam with such force that I could not wait to stand under the gush, for my morning bath. The green fields were a refreshing sight to the eyes too.

After the bath, I would come back to the house to see my grandmother ready with freshly made South Indian coffee, which is the best coffee you could find anywhere. I can still remember the aroma which is so tantalizing.
The fresh cow’s milk and filtered coffee’s combination is truly heavenly! After breakfast with Idlis , sambar and chutney, I would rush out to walk the streets of the idyllic Indian village with a girl who used to live close by.

I remember watching the children reciting the time tables, sitting on the verandah of the classrooms. These were the children from that village and surrounding villages, who had come to study there. This was one of the small villages surrounded by many other villages with no schools around.

Grandpa was inspired to start this school, to bring about education to the children of the village. Throughout his life, he dedicated himself to the education of children. He believed that, education was the only key to bring people out of poverty and ignorance. He pursed his dream till his last breath.

People at that time were so much into the caste system, and children of lower castes were not allowed to go to school then. But grandpa stood against those policies and stubbornly went about accepting any child, regardless of his or her caste or background. There was a time when the people from his community, started to alienate him too for allowing the children of other classes to study in his school. This kept him unperturbed and he carried on with his work religiously. He fought for equality and was a staunch Gandhi follower. He preached and lived a life of simplicity, not spending much on him but in the building of the school and later a college which is still being taken care by one of his other sons.

Some years later, I had gone to do my visa at the immigrations. I met the officer, who on finding out about who I was, wanted to speak to me. He told me that he was sitting on that chair because of grandpa. There were no schools in his village, so he walked to this school from his village nearby everyday, for his primary and secondary education. Now he holds a position as an immigration officer. He felt such gratitude and told me what a great man grandpa was. Though his words made me feel proud of him then, it did not register too long in my thoughts.

An incident took place recently, which ties it with the memories of grandfather. A woman related to me, her story of how she was treated as an untouchable by her employer, which was heart wrenching to listen to. I do not want to judge the employer, but it reminds me of how corrupt this whole class and caste system is. Since she came from such an upbringing, she brought with her the system which has become engrained in her.

This is not about a particular individual. This is about the whole system. This system of class and caste can degrade a human being. Without giving an iota of consideration to the feelings of the affected person, the system eats away the self worth of a human being. The person looses all self-respect and feels utter humiliation and dejection. The woman's deepest pain and cry shook me to my core. She moved me to weep with her. At that moment her pain became mine too .

I have never really thought much about this system of class differentiation, which is still practiced in India widely though not so openly now. But remembering grandfather who was already opposing this system more than fifty years ago and fighting to eradicate it brought those tears to me.

What a noble hearted human being he was. I felt sad that I do not even remember his face clearly. But this morning, my heart prostrated at the feet of this wonderful gentle man, who lived with his principles of equality and died with them.


“But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.” -

Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863.

Quotable Quotes

LIFE

"What most people need to learn in life is how to love people and use things instead of using people and loving things."
~ Unknown ~

"To be sensitive is to feel the thoughts and hearts of others as only you would want yours felt."
~ Author Unknown ~

"Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it."
~ Buddha

Down Memory Lane - Pt.4

Under the Banyan Tree

Thanks to facebook, I have been able to contact a few of my friends after 30 years ! Yes incredible isn’t it? I used to wonder all these years, whether I will be able to meet these people, since I did not know their whereabouts other than remembering their names.

It was so exciting to know that they too remembered me. Exchanging some messages, I find that, I may be able to get in touch with some of the other girls too. I am excited to know that they are around somewhere, and I have another chance to catch up with the people that I thought, I had passed by in this journey of my life. I thought that I may never be able to meet them in this lifetime. Sounds huge but isn’t that the reality? We sometimes end up never meeting some people who made an impact on us.

Memories of us being a little naughty runs through my thoughts. Can you imagine, going for a movie was taboo, back then. We would literally spin some stories to the wardens, to able to go out of the hostel on Saturday afternoons. A 20 to 25 minutes walk, depending on our pace, would take us to the bus stand close by. From there we used to go to the city to go to some theatre there for a movie. After the movie, we may go for an ice-cream before returning to the hostel. Coming back was a little difficult sometimes and we used to sneak in quietly without Padhu teacher’s knowledge.





Classrooms










She was some disciplinarian. There was always the worry, that someone might catch us rushing back late from our outings. Sometimes we had to hush them and rush in time for dinner at the dining hall. Exhausted but feeling happy and at the same time a little relieved, to be able to come back without any problems, we will go to bed to prepare for the next day. Imagine that was the level of mischief we were allowed!

There were times we were a litte bolder than that, but somehow it had to be within the limits. Sarees were the only attires allowed. Anything else was unacceptable. Some found difficulty in adhering to such strictness, but since it was a part of the culture there, we had to dress accordingly. I was not too experimental like some of the girls, who would wear pants beneath a saree and remove the saree on their way out during their jaunts !





The dining hall does look better now. There were no fans then.








That was Kalakshetra then, a different time, a different generation. Nevertheless it was fun. Sweet memories of coming together with students from all over the world. We gathered at this idyllic place, which also happened to be the place we had come to learn the arts. The pace was slow moving with ample space to be in tune with the natural setting of the environment.

Lying in bed at night, I would sometimes listen to the winds howling when the night was quiet and if it was going to rain. When the sea was rough we could hear the sounds of the waves on the beach close by. In retrospect, what a beautiful environment to be in. Walking on the sands of the campus was cumbersome at that time. Sometimes I wonder if given another chance, would I have looked at the place in the same way? I guess, I would have greater appreciation now.

I was too busy with my classes and practices. Getting up at 4 or 5 in the morning to practice my music. Bathing in cold water and having to only be in a saree was quite a challenge, but the fun was there too. We were not allowed to listen to any other music other than classical music. It took me some years later to be able to get used to listening to other genres of music. But it was fun to be able to come together from different parts of the world and living in the same environment and learning to adapt to the time and place there.

We had to adhere to the strict discipline, not to the extent of a monastery though! But I remember meeting Padhu teacher a few years later, when she told me that the place was not the same now. Times had changed and they could not expect the girls to follow their strictness as we would!

Wow! What a compliment coming from her. Yes dear Dr. Padmasini who was also a doctor of homeopathy, was in here sixties when I met her. She was a slim lady with silver hair and was always seen in a white cotton saree with the pallu wraped around her shoulders most of the time. She would have been a beauty in her younger days. You could see from her features. We used to fear her for her strictness. She was the doctor we would have to see when we fell ill.

Nostalgic memories of my times in Kalakshetra. Though the years have gone by so swiftly, the memories are still fresh like the jasmine flowers. I always consider it as one of my greatest gifts amongst other gifts, to have been given the opportunity to be in such a wonderful and beautiful place.

No grievance

This is a song in Tamil. I try to hear and sing it every day if I can. Sung by MS Subbulakshmi, the nightingale of India. She was 82 years old when she sang this. This was her last song in her last ever concert. I had the great fortune to hear one of her live concerts some 30 odd yrs back. She looked resplendent as ever, her songs were filled with devotion and she poured her soul into her singging. The lyrics were by Rajaji.



The essence of the song is that "There is no grievance for me Oh Lord, when you are there".

Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru was to have said - "Who am I , a mere Prime Minister before a Queen, a Queen of Music ".

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M.S._Subbulakshmi

Canvas

I have come to discover many things along this journey of life. More and more I see us all, as these travelers who have come to this beautiful place called Earth. We are learning, evolving and growing in love, compassion, tolerance and other similar qualities.

We have been given a canvas, colors and brushes. We can paint our canvases with beautiful images or ugly images. The choice is ours. Nature has given us this freedom of choice. Each day goes by, with me starting the day with a fresh canvas, brush and paint.

A beautiful work of art is created when I use the color of love and compassion. I experience joy as a product of that art. The particular piece evolves like an incredible tree with beautiful flowers blooming. When my art portrays impatience and anger, the painting becomes ugly. Hence, I experience pain and sadness.

I have a choice to paint happy images, images of tolerance, images of peace and images of love, which brings about happiness in my life or I can choose to paint images of hate, images of impatience, images of anger, or images of revenge, which invariably brings sadness.


We are at different stages of our journey, by the virtue of our individual nature. I can’t expect others to think as I do or be as I am. Tolerance teaches me to look at others in a new perspective. When I become tolerant, I understand that each person is as special and unique as I am. They too are a part of this wonderful creation. Along the way I am learning that I need to accept each and every person for what he or she is. Tolerance teaches me acceptance.

When we understand that there is no need for competition between anyone, we accept every one in their own terms. There is so much of abundance that we have enough to share with everyone. Each one of us has been given the space and time to grow and evolve in our own beautiful ways.

We all share the same earth, the same fate and the same destiny. When my canvas is filled with the celebration of life, I end up with the most beautiful and magical of paintings of hope, joy, love, compassion and happiness.

Heal the Soul

When we are hurt, in pain or in anger, we are not able to think or deal with things in a logical manner. The pain and anger will overshadow our way of thinking and dealing with certain situations in our life. Each time I feel pain or anger arising within me, I turn towards an antidote. It could be a poem, it could be a joke, it could be watching nature or it could be music.

Something which brings calmness and serenity to us, helps us to cool down before we are able to deal with certain situations. There are times when things have to be dealt with immediately. Those aside when we have to deal with people especially, I see that I need to take a moment, collect myself before I can utter or do something that I may regret.

I tried to watch a video of the post-mortem report of Kugan, the boy murdered in police custody and I could not continue. Such pain and sadness arose in me that I had to take a break and went to youtube and found this song. I listened to the song for a few times before I was able to compose myself and continue with the day. Music does heal the soul.

The Dream

One morning I found myself waking up from a dream. As dreams are, this was so real that I could continue feeling the dream even after I woke up. It was so incredibly real that it took me a while to realize that it was just a dream.

The moment I woke up, I remembered the story of Ashtavakra and King Janaka. This is the story of how once King Janaka had a dream. In his dream he was attacked by some neighboring kings and he lost his kingdom. He found himself being chased into the jungle and desperate for his life, he kept running.

Then King Janaka found himself hungry and tired. Looking around, he saw a hut in the distance and decided to go there to ask for some food. On reaching the hut, he found an elderly person who offered him some rice and dhall and he was left alone to prepare his own meal.

Hungry and exhausted, King Janaka walked to a nearby clearing in the forest and with much difficulty, prepared some kichadi (a soft mixture of rice and dhall )of some sort with the ingredients given and lay it on some grass to cool the hot food. Just as he was going to take his first mouth, he sees 2 wild boars running his way and they trample on his food which was on the ground. Giving up all hope, tired and hungry, his heart heavy and dejected King Janaka started to weep.

He weeps piteously, and tears roll down his cheeks. When the cool tears touches his cheeks he wakes up and finds himself in his palace, lying on his comfortable bed, being fanned by 2 beautiful girls standing near him.

The dream affects the King so much, that he calls all his ministers and advisors to explain the dream to him. Many come from far and near to give an explanation to his dream. Some say that, that was a dream and due to his good karma, he was saved from a life of poverty and it came only as a dream. Many came and gave various interpretations of their own to his dream. No answer was able to satisfy King Janaka and he offered the kingdom as a gift, if someone could interpret his dream. He also proclaimed that if the person could not give him a satisfactory answer, they will be put in jail.

No one was able to satisfy King Janaka . One day, Ashtavakra (a small boy) whose father was imprisoned by the King approaches him. He walks into the court of King Janaka and finds all those seated there laughing in jest of him. Ashtavakra – some one who’s body is deformed and crooked in eight places. Ashta meaning 8 and Vakra meaning twisted, walks towards the king with confidence.

He asks the king, “Why are you having shoe- makers in your court oh King ?” The King and all those in the court of the palace were shocked to hear a small and ugly looking boy uttering such arrogant words. All the ministers in the court become angry and start shouting at the boy. The king silencing the courtiers, looked at Ashtavakra and asked him the reason for his question. Ashtavakra without fear said, “Oh King! Only shoe makers judge a skin for its leather. They identify the leather from its quality and kind”.

“Here, I find your court filled with shoe-makers, who are only judging me by my skin and form. Hence I called them all shoe-makers” said the little boy. The court became silent and the King was taken aback by the wisdom of a child as such. Then the boy asks the King what he wanted to know. The king related his dream to Ashtavakra and asked his interpretation of the dream.

Ashtavakra, without any hesitation asked the King, “What were you having with you in your dream oh King?” The King recalled remembering holding a begging bowl. Ashtavakra asked where the bowl was now. The King said that he did not have it with him anymore. Ashtavakra then said to the King that, it was only a dream and hence he was not able to bring the bowl with him. This satisfied the King and then the little boy, looking around the huge palace sees the paintings of King Janaka’s ancestors.

He asks the King who they are and where they are now. King Janaka tells him that they were his ancestors, who lived before him and now they are no more. Then the boy asked the King, who this kingdom belonged to. The King said that the kingdom belonged to his fore-fathers and now that they are no more, it belonged to him now. Then Ashtavakra asked the king, “why did they not take the kingdom with them when they went?” King Janaka tells him that, now that they have died, they could not take anything with them from this world.

Then the boy asked the King who's kingdom this was now. The King replied that it belonged to him. Ashtavakra asked the King whether he would take the kingdom with him when he dies. King Janaka said that he could not do so. Ashtavakra looking at the king said, "since you cannot take anything with you from here, Oh King! Then this too is a dream.!”

Historical Day

Lim Kit Siang

History has just been made in Perak with the Perak State Assembly convened and held under a rain-tree.

Twenty-one years ago, the doctrine of separation of powers among the Executive, Judiciary and the Legislature suffered a grievous blow in the “Mother of Judicial Crisis” on 1988, from which Malaysia has not yet fully recovered.

Today, the doctrine of separation of powers has suffered another grievous blow with the powers and privileges of the legislature in Perak, attacked by the executive, both federal and state, which is also seeking to invoke unprecedented judicial interference with the legislature.

The Perak Speaker, V. Sivakumar, the legitimate Perak Mentri Besar, Datuk Seri Nizar Jamaluddin, the legitimate senior Exco Datuk Ngeh Koo Ham, and all the Pakatan Rakyat Assembly men and women have done Perak and Malaysia proud.

They have written a glorious chapter in the history of democracy in Perak and Malaysia.

Despite the show of excessive and unnecessary force by the Police and FRU, the Pakatan Rakyat Assembly representatives were undaunted and were able to conduct its short but historic proceeding under a rain-tree.

Shame to the Barisan Nasional and UMNO leaders. They are afraid of the Perak State Assembly meeting. They are also afraid of returning the mandate to the people with the holding of state general elections.

There is no stronger proof of the illegitimacy of Zambry as Perak Mentri Besar as a result of the illegal and unconstitutional power grab in Perak orchestrated by Najib Razak