Sunday, February 27, 2011

Three Axioms and a Movie

There are few movies that have impacted me, consciously, more than 'The Last Samurai'. It contains three axioms embedded within its script that are now part of my consciousness, and guide, if not all my actions, substantial numbers of my introspected moments in need or crises. The truths presented here, are not too uncommon - I must have encountered versions of them before. Yet, as presented here, these truths were catalytic to a changed me - changed by realisation and sufficient recognition to make space for them in my life.

The first of these, that I remind myself to use regularly, is "Know your enemy". This principle works at all levels from internal scoping to external arenas, from queries of spiritual nature to environmental emergencies or trampled people's rights. Seeking a knowledge, and understanding the opponent, is a first step towards winning a battle for change. I often have to remind myself of this - either to make time to sit under a tree, or study legal papers on repressive laws, if I am to effectively oppose it.

The second axiom that hit me was about "No Mind". Again, I realise that the purest, most effective actions emerge from instinct and reflex and have less to do with step wise procedural and consciously-minded actions. I have encountered different versions of this again and again through my life. I remember the many times when Bahuddin Dagar would open an eye during Riyaaz and say 'socho mat - Gao' (dont think, sing). This action without instruction sometimes contains the key for right decision and precise, faultless execution. It is this quality that makes a perfect dive, hit the right swara, or paint a fluid Enso - a Zen circle, in a single stroke. The goal of living this axiom is then a life lived in the conscious moment, perfectly.

The last axiom dictates the perfectness of all, that 'is'. There is a beautiful line when the Samurai says that the search in life is for a perfect cherry blossom - and such a life is not lived in vain. And, towards the end the Samurai realizes that 'they are all perfect'. It is man's nature to seek the special, be fragmentised by categories good or bad. Maybe this awareness of the sameness, the universality and beauty in a million stars or a single grain of sand, or every blade of grass or all cherry blossoms, holds the key for shedding both the ego and also the identity that have misguided human history.

I remember many years back, I was headed to a small island in the Amndamans, with my kids. We were staying at a small and very cheap hostel in Port Blair. It was night, and we were in bed listening to the waves and also someone in the next room playing the tabla. Around 9pm the lights went off. There was no pause, break in the tabla playing from next door...the beats continued playfully in improvised harmony to an ever increasing tempo for the next hour or so, to a final crescendo and then silence. I had been listening intently with two tired and now sleeping kids on either side. I remember waiting to encounter my neighbor with curiosity and eagerness. The person who emerged from the room was very young, maybe mid to late twenties. He had been learning Tabla from some guru in Benaras, where he lived, but was presently travelling around in Andamans. I remember asking him about the other islands, and the beaches there. "Are they very beautiful?" I asked, to which this young person replied, "How do you choose between beauty of beaches, or hills, or different days...they are all beautiful" and he said this with a slow and gentle smile.

I have carried in awe this sharing of a stranger's experience, wondering how it must feel? Could this really be right? or rightly experienced? without categories? I now recognise that this might be so for a few rare souls and that it cant be found be seeking - only becoming.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

A Moth and a Kite

I pulled back the curtains to let in the morning light, and saw a moth beating itself against the glass, in a relentless fight. I threw the window open and saw it fly away, but remained behind the bars, foregoing liberty for another day. In my mind's eye I soar high, while login on to this computer with a sigh! I wish for freedom, but its cost is too high, I choose to be a Kite, and remain to this earth tied...

Monday, February 21, 2011

Gandhi And I

Today I received an interesting sms. It said "what does Gandi mean to you? for you?This is my response to the questions that I feel are worthwhile answering.

Gandhi trickled into my world, larger than life, with the pantheons of Hindu Gods and Goddesses, stories of heroes and demons, Ramayana and Mahabharata intermingled with stories that had created a new, vibrant, young, independent and hopeful India. In all these rich, brilliantly hued stories demons were vanquished, truth conquered, and happiness reigned. Gandhi, in addition, was personal, since I was told "He wanted to be just like us - he took Jain vows of Ahimsa". I grew up with a strong sense of understanding for this Ahimsa, or non-violence. In many ways Ahimsa defined who I was, as a child, choices I later made, and what I am today - albeit far in practice from the aspired goals of intent.

In my youth and adulthood, Gandhi started acquiring a dimensionality, a complexity that guided my understanding of the layers of worlds, and worlds within individual worlds, lived all around me. While I was awed by stories of valor and heroism of, say Bhagat Singh, I was comfortable with Gandhi, who was a gujarati banya, like me, his vows of vegetarianism, his habit of fasting, especially in atonement - this was in close resonance to what was played out around me, as a child.

Even as I sit now, hunched to gather thoughts of what this person means? to me? I know that all answers will necessarily be incomplete to expression, for how does one capture all that has gone in to change one, and the depth of this change? I am humbled by his " I am not a well read man..." and now I seek to know less and understand more. I consider his 'Hind Swaraj' a work of pure genius, of lucid understanding and expression that to this day influence my many opinions. And, my first interest in Bhagwat Geeta arose entirely from Gandhi; I now find strength and direction in Karmanye Vadhikaraste that I bellow loudly whenever trapped into misguided expectations of reward for spent love and labors that we are all trained to seek. I understand now that it is grace that I am allowed to choose the kind of life that I seek to live; that the cost of this grace is borne by myriads of those whose names I shall never know and who shall never know the freedom of choice or indulgence of grace - so I seek less such grace, freedom, choice - unless it can be equitably shared amongst all. Gandhi's life taught me that advice is not what you preach, but practice, which carries potent for change. I also now have an inkling of how difficult this is - to engage actively, express, and then to live a life consistent with one's conscience - without fear, of consequence. Gandhi distilled showed that "Abhaya" or fearless-ness is the key to how life should be lived - absolutely - since it is in fear that we fall into many traps laid out for us. Yet, to practice this requires many million repetitions of " I shalt not fear" - and yet that does not often suffice.

I know of the many criticisms of Gandhi. They may all be true, and yet they are irrelevant to me. In Gandhi, and the many that I meet, I seek to create direction to how I might understand and lead my own life. For me Gandhi represents a life consciously and rationally lived by dictates of one's conscience. I think to recognise the latter and live accordingly and uncompromisingly, is a huge act of courage.

God Grant me Courage to Face and live My Truth.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Missing The Squirrels

This morning I awoke and pretended that I was still asleep. I stayed curled, snug and in full alertness listening to the morning sounds. Something was not right - I did not hear the squirrels. I listened with my antennas extending farther and farther, in the darkness of closed eyes, thinking, "where are the squirrels?" I could make out a variety of bird calls under sounds of revving cars, moving humans, kitchen sounds etc. Maybe I awoke too late and the squirrels were fed and quietened?

With some urgency, I wandered into my garden this morning. I was looking for squirrels. I saw a pack of dogs in hard chase after a monkey, I saw a tiny frog (barely an inch long)hop out of the way, and I heard the squirrels - in a distance. Maybe they realised that I had stopped looking at them, and were driven away by my inattention?

So, today I spent listening to peripheries of silences in my everyday life - some shallow, some deep enough to realise that there is no real absolute quiet. I listened and found the sounds that keep my world sane - sounds of nature buried in the noise of man made bustle. And, I let this sanity drip into insanity of my days, in round crystal drops of silent clarity - drip, silence, drip...silence expanding vaccuously into confusion of my chattering head.

I am glad I heard the squirrels today.