To see or to sense?

Do we sense things beyond the world we construct from our ‘five senses’? I am sure we do, and there is enough scientific data to prove that. But does our reliance on our ‘five senses’ hinder our ability to truly sense things. Are the yogi’s right when they say that we should shut out the world to truly ’see’ the world.

All of us have had such experiences, and most of us deny ourselves those experiences, by calling it a play of imagination. But in my experience, these moments have been of extreme simplicity and clarity. The sensing is of the unity of all things beyond analysis and understanding, in the realm of experiencing. These are meditative moments that force you into the clarity of ‘now’. Not always in meditation – but events that can lead to that which meditation is hoping to achieve.

In one such moment I actually decide to write at random, about my experiences with the 'beyond'. I do not meditate, not the conventional way, anyways. And its not exactly meditation that's the aim here. I am trying to get to where people get to with conventional ways of meditation, but just without meditation. Your senses will react to the surroundings by default. It is when you take full control over all your senses, your sense of sight, the touch, the smell, when you are totally in control over all your senses, that perhaps is when you have attained the desired result of meditation. To meditate, is to look into yourself, feel every molecule in you, every movement inside your body, every sound it makes, the feel of owning yourself and at the same time, being fully aware of your surroundings. And people have numerous ways to do that. I ride.

And it isn't something I have done for a very long time, but long enough to understand that I was born to do that. I was born to ride. Most people find it an activity they have to do in their lives to move from Point A to Point B, as part of their lifestyle, a compulsion of sorts. I somehow, find solace while I ride, whether it be for work, or any other purpose, I seem to always look forward to it, At 3 in the noon under the scorching sun, or be it too windy, or be it 5 in the morning on a particularly chilly winter, it always seems to lighten my mood, and cheer me up. But we are not here to see me be cheerful. What happens after, is what intrigues me.

Whenever I take a long ride, I mostly go for an open face helmet, a light backpack with my camera, phone charger, a change of clothes and chocolates and just leave. And there are stages to what I feel. I will probably check on the health of the motorcycle at first. Then I will start enjoying the wind, be cheerful. But then after some time, the difference between 'happy' and 'sad' somehow seems to dissolve. There is no emotion. No thoughts too, for that matter. Just the moment. That very moment. And it feels like a long empty bridge that connects your senses to you. And you look at yourself. 

It's something I tell you. surprises me all the time. I would not be particularly concentrating on the road, to ensure a safe ride, its like the subconscious takes care of that by itself. What happens to the conscious, you'd ask? I think, and it is just a hypothesis, the conscious surrenders to the subconscious. Your senses are so much in sync with each other, they feel and sense as one single unit, in perfect harmony. And I think in that particular moment one is fully in control over their senses, even though consciously they aren't making any effort to do so whatsoever.

And that brings us to the final question. What we see and sense in regular life, is that all a lie? I ask because it is quite different from what I see when I have that clarity of thought. It's like our senses are somehow muddled during our day to day lives, while we interact with people and situations around. What do we believe in, and what not? And in our 'busy' lives is it too much to ask for a clarity of thought every once in a while, a little solace for ourselves?

Till next then
Ciao

A Rider's Promise.

The other day I was having a conversation with a colleague about investing in a motorcycle. According to him, it was utterly foolish of me to invest in a Royal Enfield at such a young point in my career, where I could have started saving early. I could only smile. And it got me thinking. I, and him, had a very non-intersecting set of ideas. About ourselves. About our surroundings. About our lives. And then I wrote.

A motorcycle to me is beyond transportation. It's something else because it connects me with Life.

A bike is a soul ship. Biking, bridging, it's freedom, it's energy, it's expression, it's fear, it's controlling that fear, it's adrenaline, and you're gonna experience all these things in just one day being on a motorcycle on an open road. 

We humans tend to build up our lives into boxes. And the older you get, the more boxes you have. But these boxes tend to get smaller. And some start to have regrets. Motorcycles actually get you out of that box. Cause you are exposed, you are connected. Connected to the whole world out there, every life you come across, every stray breeze you fly by. Someone has aptly said:

'Riding is the closest a human can get to flying'

And so what if you melt into the crowd? So what if you dont have that one Chai-wala that you go to everyday after office? So what if you dont have the same home to go back to, the same bed, the same arm-chair for a while? So what if you have to get a banging from office if you leave on a trip all of a sudden? So what if the world out there is waiting to deceive you? So what..? It's really a perspective here. I like a little spicy in my pudding now and then. As a matter of fact, I love it. I hate to know everything every damn time. I like surprises. Nothing can always go as you have planned. Where is the fun in that anyways. Hitting a turn you least expected, is how I like it. 

So here I am. On duty. Somewhere in the middle of the Arabian Sea. Hunting for Liquid Gold. On a job, some would say mundane. Many would even doubt on this way of life. What's in it for me? It gives me the push down the cliff, so I can fly. It gives me that moment's thought, all that is required for me to go wild with my imagination, and my actions. And they set me free.

It's still early, some would say. But to me, it's time. To get out. To be impatient. Life is not a highway. It is a road made of intersections. Twists and turns. Created by nobody else, but you. Don't settle. Go. Ride. Find your own pack. Is your engine running? Embrace the head wind. Feel how it can change direction. Just like you can. And here's a promise. Wherever you're going, it won't be boring.

Happy 2015 Ya'll

Till next then

Ciao.

P.S: Thank You Komal.

Maybe…Maybe.!

Most of my posts are triggered by some or the other thing/incident I come across in life. Almost all of them are based on what happen to me, and what I do about them. I generally have a reaction only to events of massive proportions. I need to let them out of my system, and that is the main reason I let them out, because if I don’t, I can not be at peace with myself. On those days, I do not sit to think what to write, because that thought has already taken root in my mind long time ago, whenever what happened, happened.

But today, I feel different. I find it difficult to express, really. I do not feel the need to blog, because nothing of that sort has happened with me, today, or in near past, for that matter. I do not feel agitated about anything worth mentioning that has happened to me in recent times, or so I think, and maybe, feel. Today, I feel free. Away from all chaos in life. I am sitting here, thinking what to blog about, actually. Do I write about the rain, that is yet to come? Or the strong wind outside? Do I mention the heavy Desi dinner I had today, or that my prof. has asked for a treat and a good chat, and I am very much looking forward to it? Or that a couple of my lady profs wanna go out on a date with me? (Or so they said! )

Its 04:20 in the morning, and I am wide awake, no pressure of any deadlines, or exams, no tension even. My fingers are urging me to write, but my mind is lazy. It isn’t in an agitated state, maybe that is why its giving me no signals, or suggestions. But I will write. I want to. Not need to. Want to.

Today all somehow feels quiet. Serene. Or maybe this is the quiet before the coming storm. Maybe this is the still before the menacing pace of life ahead. Maybe! In that case, I better gear-up for the same. Will start with a couple of hours’ sleep.

Till Next then.

Ciao

Harmony & Disharmony

For those that define Harmony as the natural state of existence, or a state that we should aspire to, I have a question:

Does the Universe not exist in constant battle between contradictory forces of Harmony and Disharmony? Like the sunspots of the Sun, the Universe too tends to explode out of itself and then is pulled back by a contradictory force?

Would the Universe and everything that existed in it not be completely dead and non creative if there was a continuous stable non moving state of Harmony? And the same would go for us, in any form you may decide to see ourselves. Our consciousness, our soul, or our ‘five senses self’. The one law of creativity, of existence, of consciousness, of life itself, all that exists, or potentially exists, does so between extreme contradictions.

After all, Good can only be described in the context of Evil and vice versa. So what is that state that is one of complete acceptance (oops – here we go again in that word) which is neither good nor evil, nor moral or immoral, nor active or inactive, that is neither violent nor non-violent ? That has form but no recognizable form? A state that defies all adjectives, nouns or verbs we can think of, a state that exists without context with anything else, that is complete within itself yet completely infinite and incomplete?

For those that claim to have found that state which is often described as 'nirvana' (Hinduism) , or 'shunyata' (Buddhism) , or the eternal life (Islam and Christianity), I assume have encompassed the forces of contradiction and disharmony within themselves, battling neither, so experience themselves as the Universe and Eternity themselves. They are neither one nor the other, but part of a stillness that allows the battle to rage within. Knowing it to be an eternal battle, but able to smile upon it.

For me, I am still part of the battle, but learning that being buffeted by contradiction and giving into the contradictory forces is just the first step – the step that gives into the unknown without resistance. Or atleast active resistance, for the mind and the ego still rebels. The first step is to accept Chaos as the natural order of things, before reaching and yearning for that which is called 'enlightenment' or inner stillness, or whatever word and religion or philosophy chooses to use.

So forgive me if I question those that seem to emphatically KNOW. I don’t. I yearn to experience, and wonder at people that say they know. Is it mere knowledge? Or is it experience? Is it intellectual or is it emotional? The only people I meet that seem to be completely comfortable with contradiction (or duality as it is commonly called) are children , who have not yet been taught to separate completely that which is imagined and that which sensed.

I see everything I write here as huge question mark. A search and questioning, and sharing that yearning with others.

Till Next then
CIAO

INVICTUS.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul. 


--William Ernest Henley

My Ideal World.

 

A world without suffering.

A world without pain.

A world without guilt.

A world without war.

A world without hunger.

This would be my ideal world.

A world without greed.

A world without selfishness.

A world without fear.

A world without hate.

A world without strife.

This would be my ideal world.

A world without crime.

A world without tears.

A world without sorrow.

A world without disappointment.

A world without sickness.

A world without prejudice.

This would be my ideal world.

A world without jealousy.

A world without divorce.

A world without lust.

A world without poverty.

A world without unforgiveness.

This would be my ideal world.

A world without famine.

A world without drought.

A world without conflict.

A world without division.

A world without disasters.

This would be my ideal world.

A world with peace.

A world with love.

A world with joy.

A world with laughter.

A world with honesty.

A world with acceptance.

A world with forgiveness.

This would be my ideal world.

Till Next then

CIAO

Whispered into the Wind.

Whispered into the wind
every unspoken word
of love
that my own ears
yearn to catch.
Every moment
that floats
unseen,
unnoticed,
unheard,
untouched,
that I yearn to hold,
to memorize,
to imprint,
so I do not forget
ever.

Can I not hold
even one fleeting moment
inside?
So that when sleep escapes
into the storm of night
I don’t have to yearn
to search
in sheer panic?
For that
which I cannot see
cannot hear
cannot touch
but that
which surrounds me ?!?

Can I not?

Till Next then
CIAO

Did you hear the Whisper?

Did you hear the whisper
that floated by,
that you thought
was your mind
playing games
as usual?
Consumed
as you were
by the noise
inside your head,
did you hear the whisper?
That you tried to catch
but wafted away
even before you could listen?
Did you hear the whisper
like a gentle song
in a distant land
trying to come through
in the roaring traffic
of everyday existence
Did you hear the whisper?

If only I could. Or did I...

Till next then
CIAO

Attention Seeking...

We spend our lives trying to get attention and loving it. Getting attention is what provokes people, creates relationships and also destroys relationships. At some levels the ego is propelled to do greater things while it seeks attention. But at other levels, for so many of us attention seeking becomes an obsession. Therefore self-destructive. You can’t spend your life seeking affirmation through other people’s eyes. More often than not this leads to a loss of self-worth with all its associated problems.

I spent many years of my life as a child in wonderful adventures, but also in “Vanity” about myself. I often look back at my life and wonder how many beautiful relationships I missed out on, how many great adventures I did not give myself to, because of my own vanity or the need to seek attention.

But better late than never, I am on a different path now as I realize that the greatest adventure of all, the greatest potential relationships of all, the greatest love of all, lies in what’s given. Not in what is received.
Not because of some great “altruistic” or “selfless” illusion of myself. But because the greatest adventure of all lies in seeing yourself not as an individual drop, but as the ocean. To lose my sense of individuality. To lose that which is “Abhimanyu Manna” the individual allows me to lose “me.” I am not saying that I am there yet. My ego still carries too many remanents of the past. Past desires, past aspiratons and past insecurities. But I’ve made a start.

Everyday, for a part of the day I argue against my own ego to remind myself of the greatest illusion of all.

My individuality.

Me.

Till next then.
CIAO

A Stray thought.

When was the last time a lion asked of another
"so what’s he doing these days?"
doing what lions do I guess,
being a lion.
So what r u doing these days, Abhimanyu?
doing what human beings do I guess
being human
and destroying the planet
by eating more than the average human
and...wasting...life!..
for in the scheme of things.

Does an ant see itself as an individual
with an individual consciousness?
Or a collective?
And as I walk the streets
everyone trying as hard as they are,
myself included,
to express their individuality,
to know they exist,
conflicted as we are
by our need to be a part
and apart both
from the collective,
do ants need to do the same thing?
Whats going on in their mind
or wherever their consciousness
or their imagination exists?
Do they merely see, imagine
only the collective?
Or like us
the collective
through the individual?

And do we even enter
their consciousness
except as creatures
that trundle around
unpredictably
without purpose
undecided
between Big Bazaars
and the little cafe’
for a cup of coffee
and looking down
from a galaxy far far away
at this tiny speck of dust
called earth;
an ant,
a human,
one crushed
beneath the others feet
has no significance
other than
the breathing of the universe
between creation and destruction?

I wonder..!

Till Next then
CIAO

Yelling.

I ran from the noise
looking for silence
and in my solitude,
I heard a single scream
that came from
inside my head;
I was the one
yelling,
the loudest,
trying to be heard
above everyone else
like a child
screaming for attention
in a world
where a billion voices
were doing the same.
I was.
I am.
Still am.

Till next then.
CIAO

A Teacher Answers…

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life.
One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with 'education'. He argued, “What’s a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a 'teacher'?”
To stress his point he said to another guest; “You’re a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?”
Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied,
“You want to know what I make?”
(She paused for a second, then began…)
“Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I make a C+ feel like the Medal of Honor.
I make kids sit through 45 minutes of class time when their
parents can’t make them sit for 5 without an I Pod,
Play Station or movie rental.
You want to know what I make?
(She paused again and looked
at each and every person at the table)
I make kids wonder.
I make them question.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions.
I teach them how to write and then I make them write. Keyboarding isn’t everything.
I make them read, read, read.
I make them show all their work in math. They use their God
given brain, not the man-made calculator.
I make my students from the villages learn everything
they need to know about English while preserving their
unique cultural identity.
I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe.
I make my students stand, placing their hand over their heart to
say the ‘Pledge of Loyalty’ to their Flag and their Nation.
Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they
were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life.
( Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.)
Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, with me knowing money isn’t everything, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant. You want to know what I make?
I MAKE A DIFFERENCE. What do you make Mr. CEO?”
His jaw dropped; he went silent.
Even all your personal teachers like mothers, fathers, brothers,
sisters, coaches and your spiritual leaders/teachers.
A profound answer!!!

Till Next then
CIAO

(P.S.: Dedicated to all the teachers/professors that made me what I am today.)
---Inspired from a poem by Taylor Mali.

Why was I born?

I looked for my true calling
I looked for my true purpose
What I am supposed to do on the planet
Why was I born ?
And I asked the question deep inside me
Beyond logic, beyond thought, deep in the bowels
Of the space where I connect to the Universe
Where I can be thrown into the raging storm of ‘not knowing’
And the answer hit me in an immense tidal wave of understanding
“You are your own purpose
Nothing more, and nothing less
A bundle of purpose and karma
All existing within itself
And the only thing holding it back
Is the separation created by
Words like ‘I’ and ‘my’ and ‘me’.”

Till Next then
CIAO

I am that.

I am
nothing more
but nothing less.
I am not
who you think I am
I am not
who I think I am.
I am
all that is
and all that is not.
I am
neither defined
nor definable
neither finite
nor infinite.
I am
that.
That was never born
or ever died.
I am
that has no word
to describe.
That I am.
I just
am.
 
Till next then
CIAO

The Story Teller

In my previous life I was a story teller.
Dragging myself from village to village,
where people would throw me some coins
to weave fantasy around their mundane lives
At my will
I would make them cry
and laugh.
Children rolled over and clapped with joy
as my characters
faced the most absurd plots I could weave
Except him,
who would neither laugh
nor shed a tear,
as he stood there
staring at me.
Challenging.
Would you like to hear a story ? I asked him.
”Not unless it is the story of all stories,” he said
And wherever I went he would be there
watching and listening,
challenging
”Can u tell me the story of all stories ?”
How could there be one story that defined all stories ?
and if there were
what value would I have ?
if there be just one story to tell ?
”You are of no value to me,” he said
”Unless you can tell me the story of all stories”
And he walked away
challenging,
never looking back
amused.
Silly man,
How could I make a living
If I told the same story
again and again ?
But I died.
Never being able to tell another story
Have you ever died of thirst
in the presence of a glass of water
that you cannot see?
And into this life
He came again.
He took my hand
and showed me the ocean
and asked me to see,
and to observe
For the story of all stories was there,
a story that had no end
and no beginning.
Each rising swell
a new Plot that arose from the ocean
and then merged back
instantly
endlessly
unpredictably
inexorably,
millions arising
and immediately going back to the source
The Source
The Story of all Stories
Till next then
CIAO

Color, Life & People…

Why do we still see in color?
When color came to film, it was a thrilling moment. We celebrated the richness of the colors and they’ve only sharpened over the years. Today our images are even more alive, our colors more vibrant.
Yet, while we celebrate color in the digital world, why don’t we do the same in the real world?  Why do we still stop there?  Why do we build so many differences – race, ethnicity, religion, class?  Why?
As one who’s traveled widely, well, almost, it’s become quite apparent that people are people, no matter what color – pink, purple, green even! It’s become apparent that our frustrations, worries, concerns, fears are so universal.  That is why great art, literature, and music sees no divide.  Because its message is of human emotion.
We are creatures who oddly think of others before ourselves many times.  We are inclined to bend to the wishes of family and dear friends, even if they are against our deepest desires.  We gravitate towards what we are told us “right.”  But what is “right?”  Is it my “right”?  Is it your “right”?  Who came up with “right”?
And in the mad cacophony of voices in our head, we forget our own.  What if we do not see the differences?  What if we do not see color, race, ethnicity, religion, or class?  Should we, because the world does as well?  Should we, because our families do as well?  Should we, because it is easier that way – to drive in the lane that you’re currently taking?
The questions seem endless.  And yet, the answer repeatedly seems to be the same — no.
But, we live only for a few moments, only a few years on this planet, only a short lapse in the grander scheme.  Why not please ourselves?  Why not be guided by unfiltered passion?  Why not go blind, using only what we feel?  Why not be absolutely true to our deepest wishes?
Because it is difficult?
But nothing is difficult.  As I’m told repeatedly, life is simple.
People complicate it.
Till next then…
CIAO

Winter-mania

I love the winters. I love the way ice cream tastes in he cold. I love the winters for its glamour. People wear all kinds of colors. Everyone likes to look good. Everyone looks jolly. The mood feels light. The mind feels good. The winters bring out the quilts. And what is better than a chilly night outside and a warm quilt inside, some pop corn and a good movie? I love the winters.
The sleeping hours get stretched. And the people, they always, somehow, don’t smell as horrid as during the summers. The woolens have their distinctive odor, that retro-kinda odor. All kinds of fashion are acceptable during this season. You wear whatever you like without anyone eyeing at you as if you were a fashion disaster, not that it matters anyway.
And the food. Hot food is always welcome. Suddenly you start liking tea. The markets get flooded with all kinds of veggies, fresh, exotic. One can derive way more pleasure cooking now, than during the summers.
But then, every morning we wake up to news of more people dying of the cold in certain regions of the nation. On one hand, where winter mornings always manage to make you feel ecstatic, on the other, these kinda news sinks your heart. How can the exact same thing be so blissful to some, and live-threatening to another? Nature has his own deadly sense of humor, a practical joke. Its disheartening. Some would say, “What can I do if some are poor?”
True. You, probably can not do much. But then there are ways in which you can contribute your bit to the society. It is curious how only 10% actually do something for the society, without any material incentives. Also, only another 10% have absolutely no heart to do anything for the society. Now, what about the rest 80? They are like me. In the midst. Willing to do their bit. But directionless. If only happiness could be exchanged through Bluetooth.Or say telepathy. The earth would have been a much happier place. If only...
Till Next then..
CIAO.

Awaragardi.

Aimless wandering. No particular destination. No aims. No goals. Living and existing in the moment. No care for the past nor for the future. All heart. Does not use the head.
What a liberated way to live..!
So why was it always an accusation against me?
Is being myself, wrong in any way?
And yet, I am happiest, most creative and best at what I do
when I am aimless,
Awara hoon..
Does anyone remember the words of that song?
It has left me humming..
Till next then.
CIAO

The Alien and me.

Suddenly my view of myself and the universe, would, in that instant be changed, re-evaluated, all the questions I asked from that moment on would be different. Context would be different,
If I came across an Alien today.
What would I say if there were words. Would I shake hands if there were hands ? Or indeed if there was form ? Or would I ignore the Alien as a mere figment of my imagination. And what is wrong with a mere figment of my imagination ? What did I impose upon myself that a figment of of my imagination could never be a figment, perhaps the most significant figment of my existence.
Why have I allowed that being without form, that being that dreams, that being that imagines, that being that continually sees life as play. Why have I allowed that being to turn into an Alien living in a cage of suppression. Knocking on my door from inside my mind.
As the knocking gets louder, pushing against the mundanity of habittuality that takes over as existence, it’s time to let the Alien out. For there is always an alien sitting inside us that is knocking at the doors of our mind with figments of imagination – but over the years we start ignoring those figments as impractical madness.
What is practical anyway ? Or should I say, what is more practical, or, better still, real? Me? Or the alien within me?

Still Life marches on.

As I look back at my life, I have been accused of being impractical (I am), a dreamer (I am) a wanderer (completely), the famous comment ‘you treat life like it was just play’ – yes I do. ‘Act your age’ – I can remember forever. People have said I have an over active imagination (yes, completely), that I should be more serious about life (I agree, but I do not know really know what they mean). The point I have been making is that while I have always accepted these accusations, I have lived under the burden of guilt of all these accusations. I have consistently tried to change them, but neither have I been able to change myself, nor have I been able to be free of considering myself somewhat an irresponsible human being…
…par…log toh kahenge hi…just because people say this is right and that is wrong, and if I will change my life because of their perceptions, I think I will lose myself, reach nowhere. So then I should try to enjoy what I am, sometimes irresponsible, confined to solitary, doing the things i want and not bothering.
So at the end of the day who cares? Why …we come alone, go alone, being a mere visitor to this planet, its perfectly all right to be so. Sometimes near and dear ones worry and their worry actually affects, but at the end of the day do they know what's going on with your being? I really do not think so man!
Till next then..!
CIAO