More Musings....

Anchored on the sea floor
Dancing like a kelp
Fish swim through me,
Octopus cling to my back.

An Exodus?
Army of hermit crabs
Climbing up a slippery rock.

New moon night
I walk in light of a million stars.
Long wispy clouds ribbon out
- our Milky Way.

Lying on the sand and staring up-
Core of the Milky Way, gigantic, and
illuminated from within;
250 million years for our Sun to whiz
around that 800,000 km/hr!
I am a mere cosmic speck - I smile.

I swim, tread, facing a large wave
Trying to catch it right-
Leap at the last instant
To ride its crest, or dive deep in
To miss it's crash -
Playing with the ocean...
Thoughts meander and
I am whacked, tossed,
Flung and taught -
It is all about No Mind.

Could I live like this?
For my remaining Forever?
Eat, sleep, walk, play and sway
On my blue hammock,
Staring at the azure sky, turquoise sea
Under dense canopy of giant evergreens? What will I miss:
Can't think - No mind.

I worry - do I need little
Because I have too much.

I dive deep towards the ocean bed
Emptying out my lungs -
Crystal bubbles stream up.
So also in my inner search
Will have to let go, to dive deep.

Musings...

Today, ocean flew up
To land as scraps
on a flowering Didu...
Three kingfishers on a branch.

The ocean has stained me blue
I wade out to do my peacock dance
And in distance, megh rumble.

Like crabs, I run sideways
Along froth lines,
Searching for treasures
Tossed from the sea.
...and so also in life
I skirt, afraid to dive deep.

Moon waxes and wanes,
Tides tumble in cycles;
Earth hurtles through star fields.
Sitting still, I watch and laugh -
that I still seek a purpose!

When all voices die -
Will the silence in my head
Pound like waves,
And my blood
Course in crazy dance?

Sitting by the shore
I ignore the ocean;
A crashing wave drenches me
For my audacity...
I smile and return my gaze
Towards him.

Here, the Didu is light pink.
Wild almond is golden, red and russet;
Most are in shades of dark evergreen; and some are just barren and brave.
I too sport all seasons of my life - subdued spring of blushing pink; summer strength of vital greens;  fiery shades of autumn's passion, and coolness of winter nights.
It's all the same - without and within.

From Neil

We live in a tiny room - enough for a bed and a little space to walk on two sides, my son and I. The walls and door are of matted reed; roof is a tin slat. On the little veranda outside, hang our two hammocks - in slate blue and ocean green. We have a mat we spread out for visitors, for yoga, painting, braiding friendship bracelets, and crafting coconut shells - into planters, bowls, jewelry. This mat is white with green parrots on green branches. All our belongings are contained in two bags that easily fit under our bed. The family here feeds us, simple fare and very well. Most vegetables and fruits are from their own garden.

For most part we lie on the hammock, that sways on its own, tuned to the sound of the waves, just beyond, and the sound of the breeze, if we listen a little more, and our own breath and heart beat if we get really tuned in.

At other times we go to the beach, scavenging for shells or driftwood, or to ride the jade and turquoise waves, or to simply wander - up and down, up and down, aimlessly but centered.

There is little to do here, and little to buy or own. Slow life, gentle smiles, purpose less, yet complete. I have everything I need.

How will I ever return?

Packing

I am headed out to the Andamans...and I am packing all the things I should not forget. Turquoise blue for the ocean,  jade at the shore, white froths, and cerulean blue for the immense sky dome. On a whim, I add in a scarlet for the flamboyant sunsets, a deep carmine for the pre-dawns. I add in emerald for the snorkelling depths, a leaf green for the giant trees, a hooker's green for the rest. I add in gold and silver for the sands to walk on and the sun and the moon - and finally lapis for the inky star sprayed nights.

I pack in a hammock and I am done. 

And...Its People

Pictures from Paradise

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.

Small Island Lure-Neil Island

I am partial to small islands-particularly tiny ones. The smallest island I've visited was a miniscule flotsam a few hundred meters across in the Maldives.One could take a leisurely stroll around this island in under 15 minutes. The island's smallness was neither confining nor imprisoning- infact, the experience was deeply liberating afloat on that tiny land on an infinite blue green ocean-akin to experiencing earth's journey through space.

This trip to Maldives was extravagant in all respects -beauty, costs, lifestyle. It was therfore also unreal, artificial, superficial.

I have since found the island of my dreams in the Andamans-a "real" island, where communities live, work, sustain generations, cultures. I discovered Neil Island in search for food options outside of the fish and rice culture practiced over most of Andamans. A guide book described Neil island as the food-bowl for the northern Andamans-a place that was supported by agriculture economy and exported fruits and vegetables to other islands. Being vegetarians, it was with relish that we looked forward to visiting Neil Island.

Our approach by ferry from Port Blair showed white sandy beaches,tall timber trees of emerald, transparent turquoise to jade waters deepening to ink blue and a picture perfect jetty-with a quickening heart I realised that this was the one-the one I had dreamt about!

Neil island is still small by most standards-7km by a couple km across. I never managed to circumnavigate the whole island in my month's stay there. I was too busy swimming, loitering, eating. That summer, the trees were overladen with ripe mangoes, jackfruits-that we climbed, plucked, gorged on, coconuts waiting to be enjoyed, and gardens brimming with vegetables and greens that were cooked for us in bengali and tamil preparations in tiny home restraunts around the island.

The paradise was perfect with a small but well stocked library, an energetic government school, a grassy football field,and friendly families eager to make friends with those from the distant 'mainland'. We spent hours learning to make crafts from coconut shells-polished to a shiny marbled finish in coffee, burnt yellow, cream. Kids rowed on the open sea in tiny dingy, standing, perfectly poised-a sense of peace filled my heart-nothing left to ask for-nothing left to desire.