The parallel universe that we seek.

Where everything is just the way we want

There is nothing there which cannot;

But are we then the same?

Is our nature truth or is it desire?

What is the inner truth?

What journey must we take?

What is the gift?

In the end-

What we seek is our own self

Which comprises of the entire expanse that we exist in.

Each interprets according to the reality they are in at that point

Like the earth, we too are constantly becoming.

The past does not just drop off

But moves into and creates today.

That is the reality I inhabit

The truth of the nature of things.

We are the journey.

For life is a gift unto itself.

With a history and culture so unique and completely natural, Maoris are indeed a special race. Their fascinating symbols like the ‘koru’ , the ‘fish hook’, ‘triple twist’ and the ubiquitous ‘tiki’, which actually symbolizes  inner structure. Traditions and tints of hawaiin shamanism, Polynesians  albeit traces of the British prevail, the land has absorbed all these like a giant sponge, only to give out the richest lather- scenically and culturally.

Can there be, in this day and age a land so untouched by issues plaguing other countries? Is it still probable that man can live in complete harmony with his surroundings and protect it even? The place where I come from, definitely not thinkable as of now.  Concerns of terrorism, inflation, poverty, racism, global warming take precedence, as in most other places. Throughout my life I have seen people creating their own little world, irrespective of their environment, most of the time it’s a short-lived, make believe world where the only thing in abundance is hope-for a better tomorrow. It is I think a survival technique, to adjust, make the best out of whatever is available. But there can be better ways, can’t there? For, we are not here to survive, but live.  To do, be, something more than just exist. There can and must be another way-instead of constantly segregating, can’t we make an effort towards oneness, wholeness, in ourselves, in our lives?

I was just another ‘nice’ chubby ‘nerd’

Part outcast, part cattle of the herd.

The ‘boring’ girl with two plaits who aced exams, drew portraits and parodied teachers,

The ‘spiritual’ one who loved fruits, wrote poetry and dreamed of being an ascetic.

Somewhere I lost myself in a self inflicted maze

Of invisible labels and broken threads

Of self flagellation, preaching and eschewing

All that my mind deemed unworthy, deluding.

Lost in ambition, thrust upon me

Trying to please whom, I could not yet see.

Friends came and went as did exams

Dance, a knee injury, moving away from home, diets, vodka, yoga

Singing lessons, a makeover, unexpected grades, housework, golf, Goa…

And I moved on from pantheism to utter disbelief.

Betrayals, untruths, crushes and hurt

Was all at first I could find.

Was it others or was it me?

Again and again I asked to see

A gestalt arose

A phase came to a close.

Does love ever go to waste?

Do we almost always trust in haste?

At the end of it all is there a chance of slipping back into past scatter?

How much do all my certificates and trophies even matter?

Do we need the word ‘achievement’ really?

If everything is relative, duality is what we see.

I looked at the drink

Did I even want to think?

I quite liked the taste

But have never drunk in haste.

Barfing and passing out post drinking was never my thing

Neither did I cry, shout, dance or sing.

Did I try to test my so-called capacity?

Was I obsessed with rebellion or veracity?

To drink or not to drink is a common dilemma

The labels we attach make it social anathema

What does it say about a person really?

Now that you would say depends on the frequency.

After reading ‘The Fountainhead’ by Ayn Rand

I furiously wrote, vehemently took a stand

Declaring to myself-‘I’m not a second-hander’

I tried to analyze if I had stopped being a dreamer

I asked myself how far I would go to save my dream, my vision of substance.

I was one of them who wanted to wake up and say-‘there is no distance.’

After a series of interviews and rounds of HR drill,

My boss suddenly decides it’s time for fourth gear and goes into overkill

“Where is your hungerness?” he bellows

And again I felt it would have been better at the gallows!

As targets and reviews become routine

So do nosy colleagues and cockroaches in a team!

I grunt, sigh and cry at the end of the day

And cuss even more loudly when I finally get my pay.

I knew this wasn’t my dream, I knew things weren’t fair

What I hadn’t counted on was walking into a living nightmare.

I was down with the flu and hence taken to the doctor

‘What are you doing?’ I was asked by the compounder.

My mother beside me proudly replied-

“An investment advisor at HDFC Bank.”

There was more relief apart from false pride.

The joy on her face said it all-

For that moment alone, the job was worth it.

When I first learnt and experienced healing,

I knew right then that this was what I would want to do forever; almost permanent

And when I was told that the time had come for my calling,

I experienced a feeling of belonging; my vocation for me was a sacrament.

Before there might have been a goal or an aim

Now, a portion of reality had presented itself and made its claim.

When I stepped out of my master’s house that day,

I felt as if the world had suddenly become a better place

The ideal world which my young self had known only in wild dreams or by hearsay,

A place to do cartwheels, shout and dance at the highest pace.

The path had taken on visible lineaments for me

Its gates had opened invitingly.

I was sure of it coming someday

But I did not know then that it would be today.

The world I now saw, did not exist in some vague and remote past or future

It glowed, sent messengers, apostles and teachers.

It was not just a feeling or sense of happiness

Nor even an admonition from my own conscience;

But a show of favour and an exhortation from the divine

A call which had come from that world to mine.

Love may largely be a matter of luck or chance

But this- this was a precise event in the real world,

Not something one could pass.

As I watch the healee leaving,

She turns around and asks-“Are you Gujarati?”

As if sure, almost ready, believing.

When I reply in the affirmative she smiles, dropping her guard.

When she continued with checking if I was Jain

I wondered whether to judge her question as vain;

“Which God?” came next as I denied her previous claim

Although ‘Krishna’ was my involuntary response, ‘Allah’ I was tempted to say.

Memories are a starting point, which essentially are our experiences frozen in time and space. From those encounters we gather our emotions and feelings to which when logic and words are applied, they become our opinions, perceptions and even at times, judgments of people.

The same should be the case in terms of relationship with ourselves. But, strangely it is not. More often than not, we tend to relate from the present. As, our earliest memory of ourselves is often clouded and hazy.  Are we something or nothing at all? Are we guests in our own body? Have you ever been afraid of losing ‘you’?

How often do we hear phrases like these? ‘Self-service’, self help etc. Do we need to have a relationship with the ‘self’? Aren’t we just ‘it’ all the time?

Remember what is your inner space. Just remember. For a few seconds sit down with closed eyes to remember, to make note of where you have been, to what depth you have been able to reach; what the taste of silence is, peace, what is the taste of being with yourself. Look in. Silence. Emptiness. Witnessing. This is your sacred space. Never give up on it.

The most important relationship we have in our lives is with our selves, mind, body and spirit.  And even though we are the only ones who are present at every moment of our lives—from birth onward—this relationship can be the most difficult one to cultivate, or rather, become aware of. Until we know ourselves, however, we cannot possibly choose the right relationships to support our mutual growth toward our highest potential.

You work on relationships by shutting your mouth when you are ready to explode; by not inflicting your affect on the other person; by quietly leaving the battlefield and tearing your hair out; by asking yourself – not the other – what complex in you was activated, and to what end.   The proper question is not, “Why is she doing that to me?” or “Who does he think he is?” but rather, “Why am I reacting this way? Who do I think he or she is?”  And more: “What does this say about my psychology?  What can I do?

Throughout my life I have seen people creating their own little world, irrespective of their environment, most of the time it’s a short-lived, make believe world where the only thing in abundance is hope-for a better tomorrow. It is I think a survival technique, to adjust, make the best out of whatever is available. But there can be better ways, can’t there? For, we are not here to survive, but live.  To do, be, something more than just exist. There can and must be another way-instead of constantly segregating, can’t we make an effort towards oneness, wholeness, in ourselves, in our lives?  That point starts here. That moment could be now. We always have the choice within us –to create, love and accept ourselves.  From who we were to who we can become or are becoming. From all that we thought we were to an awareness of our constant change. Everything in life is leading us to our self. To all that is.

Love yourself and watch…today, tomorrow, always.

Nor is there any ending.

This is not the first time

That I am writing to you.

Our story goes farther than that.

But as you read this every time

I want you to remember it is a starting point-

A doorway to memories

A path full of stories.

In this illusion that we are:

Let me be your story teller

And secret keeper.

As for me, you will always be-my soul mate.

Togetherness is such- it presents illusions of time and space
Yet is not limited by the very same;
It is a call from the heart,
A connection, an understanding.

Your essence is ever present in all your gifts.
And yet, you are the gift itself.
Your voice resonates in my head.
Your presence in my memory.

But destiny goes far deeper than that.
Sometimes we long for that which is already there.

Are you are mirror or a reflection?
Are we companions of time or illusion?

May what we find in our togetherness sustain us;
In our search for the quintessence
As true seekers of the Light.

Stale thoughts, old patterns
Same old, same old.

A constant oscillation between controlling and victimizing,
Being too closed or without boundaries.
Extremes of repression or indulgence.
The greed verily noticed in others, the rigidity, the fixations;
Is it a call to reflect on my own beliefs and projections?

I can change my perception of the world,
But what about the starvation that exists within?
What has given rise to this ‘I’, this dual self?
Who do I blame?
And to whom do I complain ?

The source of conflict is not in the other
Nor in the past
It all lies within.

Watching the mind
Watching the breath
Awareness of patterns
Presence of being

What now? Where do I go from here and how?
To empty, to uncover, to change.
The road to redemption seems, a remote possibility.
Perdition instead seems, a more apparent reality .

I try to trace the origin of it all,
In my conditioning, in dreams, in history.
But it goes on, to the point where I cannot remember.
Life calls out and beckons me to surrender.

I ask the leaves on my backyard tree
To help me find my way, to clearly see;
I call out to the birds resting in their nests
To let me understand some of their secrets.
I look up to the sky to empty all inner clouding
I allow the rain to give me a good washing.

Resolutions , ideals, affirmations-
Mere intellectualizing, complications.
Life is simple- as we are it.
Not seeking the source, I  let it arise.
Facing the inner dirt, the darkness inside
Without fear, shame, anger, guilt and judgement.
Accepting and understanding that this is just the beginning;
Of the end of an era of strife:
Towards integration and harmony with all of life.

I realize that my journey itself is a constant redemption
Of who I was to who I can become.
From all that I think I am, to an awareness of my constant becoming.
And to trust that each and everything is leading me to myself.
To all that is.

Or been spooked by your own shadow?

We live in a world of oddities,

Albinos and bizarre stories.

Of animals without tails and insects in unimaginable colours;

Of myths and stories,

Dark gods and god men.

Theories and scientific discoveries,

Research which keeps proving and disproving,

Disasters which unsettle everything.

A little music carried by the wind I hear,

Some art latent in my eyes waiting to sear;

A small dance arising in my heart to share,

A little poetry engraved on my soul to bare.

Different things comfort us at different times,

Different forms come to us in different ways;

Sometimes all it takes is just a piece of rainbow.

Everyday a vast array of emotions seizes me, creating memories, moments;
Everyday I come to realise that there is nothing I can grasp, not even closeness.
Everyday I see or feel pain, sufferring, death and old age.
Everyday again hope wells up, dreams, plans and desires resurface.

The earth accepts all seasons
To exist we can always find a million reasons.
The events in my life are but a constant reminder of reality,
To accept all that there is, and all that is me-
Without shame, sadness, pride or apathy.
To accept with a grateful heart-
Not only what has been given, but also what has been denied.

For life is too vast for us to comprehend or control;
A contingent ground where the next step is never known.
So I surrender to be free-
Morphing into life, with acceptance.

I’m tired of striving
Tired of trying
Sometimes it makes no sense at all
To make an effort, to wait, to witness
Who am I
I probably will never know

All I have is messages and teachings
The vast mystery of life remains.
What ever is there, is there.
What is not, I no longer care.
To want and not to want are essentially the same.
Who knows what lies ahead
What do I choose if I obliterate my soul?
And more importantly, who chooses?
Who chooses?