Verses that haunt a lifetime

The big news these days in Indian newspapers is Salman Rushdie and his participation or not in a literary fest in Jaipur. The debate is around freedom of expression. Quoting Rushdie on the cancellation of his address at the literary fest, "In a true democracy, all get to speak, not just the ones making threats". Well said, Mr. Rushdie, but you certainly got your chance to speak through tonnes of books and other literature. The debate is also about sense and sensibilities. And I think in a democracy or otherwise, you don't go about making comments that hurt sensibilities of a large section of people. Not taking sides in an endless debate, but my mind turned away to completely different topic. What would it be to utter a verse that haunts you a lifetime?

Salman Rushdie wrote a book in 1989, the book with verses that hurt sensibilities of a large group of people. Verses that caused angst and anguish to many. Verses that might have been insensitive. I have not read those lines, but have seen the reactions it caused and the anger that followed. Salman Rushdie had to live for years in hiding, his life turned topsy turvy. Did he regret writing those verses? Did he regret the anguish caused? Maybe he did....but when the battle-lines are drawn it is difficult to be sane, it is difficult to remain self-critical. And now 22 years later, time has flown by and when you hope some of the wounds have healed, you see reactions as extreme as before to the verses and the man who uttered them.

The spoken word, the printed word ....can never be taken back. In the middle of an argument, in the heat of the moment, it is so easy to lose control and provoke with your scathing verses and your sharp tongue. And when the moment passes, when you contemplate in silence, you realize that you can't take back what is said. You have to live with it a lifetime. Sometimes in shame. Sometimes in pain. But mostly in denial and in self defense of your point of view. You have to live with verses that haunt a lifetime. Thich Nhat Hanh says " When you say something really unkind, when you do something in retaliation your anger increases. You make the other person suffer, and he will try hard to say or to do something back to get relief from his suffering. That is how conflict escalates. " Well, if we are mindful of what we speak, peace will reign in our hearts. If only we could be more mindful of what we say, and banish the satanic verses that form in our minds. Banish the verses that haunt a lifetime....

Roadhouse Blues

"Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel" and so it rolls. It is a long journey with many twists and turns. It is a journey where one must find the path and stick to it. I am trapped in transit, meandering to an unknown destination. I wander through night and day. I press on through calm and tempest. I look at the morning rays for new energy to carry on the journey. I look at the shining stars for direction to stay the path on that dark night. I fall asleep, tired and troubled, on my beloved's lap for rejuvenation. I wake up to the laughter of my friends, my fellow travelers on the difficult path. The difficult path made easy by this camaraderie, the journey continues. This interesting journey called life with many stops at the roadhouses. The journey and its roadhouse blues....

"I woke up this morning, I got myself a beer". I don't know my destination and I wander on. I stop at the roadhouse. I get myself a beer. Intoxicated by the sights, sounds and smells of the roadhouse, I think I have reached my destination. I believe this roadhouse is the place to be, until I wake up to the reality. The intoxication wears off, the fleeting joy passes over, disenchantment sets in. I am a traveler, I am a wandering soul, I need to move on. For a while, I thought this roadhouse is where it ends. But, hey, the journey must go on. I am trapped in transit, meandering to an unknown destination. An unknown destination that can thrill your soul. You got to roll, roll, roll.....you gotta thrill my soul, alright. The journey and its roadhouse blues....

"The future is uncertain, and the end is always near". I move from one roadhouse to the next, not knowing what I want or where I am going. From one roadhouse to the next, and each seems more like the previous. It is the the same intoxication, the ephemeral joy and then followed by the same disenchantment. I search for joy more permanent, I search for a destination more real. And one day, Rumi asks "And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself ?" And I wonder, what the real journey is about? Trapped in transit, meandering along halfheartedly..... I cry in anguish. Rumi says " You set out to find God, but then you keep stopping for long periods at mean-spirited roadhouses". Ah! this journey and its roadhouse blues....do you see the light within?

This is the end, beautiful friend

This is the end 
Beautiful friend
This is the end 
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end

Jim Morrison echoes in my ears as another year comes to an end. 2012 as the end of the world is a much discussed topic, so much so that there is a movie, a million websites and some zillion discourses on it. As 2011 winds down, one can't but, for once, think about the unknown awaiting us next year. Is the world really going to end? Well, I think it is. This is the end of the world as we know it. This is the end, beautiful friend....

If you look at the signs that have been strewn down our path in 2011, it is but obvious. The world is already changing, it is already a different place. It is as conflicted as ever, but new voices are being heard, new order is being established. If the nineties saw the fall of the communist regime, this millennium has seen the dismantling of many a dictatorship, many a monarchy.  Tunisia's Jasmine revolution, America's Occupy Wall street, India's Anna Hazare and many others have taken on the establishment. Corporate greed has been questioned, political  hegemony is under threat, bureaucratic indifference is being shaken up. The new voices through social media, the echoes of these voices in an extremely connected world, the tremors of the actions spurred by these voices are seen in civil society today. The last bastion of established order, capitalism is under threat now. The fall of capitalism will change the world order, the economic might of nations and corporations will not matter, the playing field will change. Is that what 2012 is going to be about?

What will be the new social order? Will it be one where individual freedom, enterprise and creativity is celebrated? Will it be one where corporate greed, network and scale are not adulated? Will it be a more equal world which is less insular and more inclusive? Will there be self sustaining smaller local economies that focus on the immediate needs of the community? Yes, 2012 has everything going for it to be a decisive year. A year that changes the way the world behaves. A year that awakens millions, a year that is the beginning of a new social order, a year that is the end of the world as we know it. This is the year that can set us free, go grab it...

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end

Remembering all things Grandma, all things love

I remember one of the very first job interviews I attended. In the midst of all the esoteric questions that determined if you got the job or not was a seemingly innocuous one. The question was about my favorite cuisine. What was it and why....and the answer was on my lips straight away, I did not need to think too hard. I did not have to choose between Thai or Italian. I did not need to elaborate on why Pad Thai or Thai Green Curry suited my palate. Neither did Risotto cross my mind nor did Chicken Tikka Masala. Because the answer was straight forward, what I really enjoyed was my Grandma's cooking. Her homemade curries and pickles were unmatched and that was because of the special ingredient you only found there. Nothing could beat her lovingly made spicy hot curries and pickles. And yes, it is not the salt and pepper that matters, what matters is that special ingredient called love.

I am told that as a child, I was a difficult one to manage when getting to go to sleep. You can't fault me for my consistency. My sleep cycle has generally been consistent since those days.....I sleep late and wake up late. In a household where generally folks sleep early and rise early, this was a disruption. I am told my Grandma would stay up late telling me stories, singing her lullabies and trying every trick in the book to get me to sleep. And I know she did that, because the stories she told me are still whispering themselves to me after so many years. Stories from Indian mythology, stories of the Lords , stories of brave men, stories of righteous men, stories that teach you to live your life with dignity. I know she stayed up for me, because the lullabies she sang are still soothing my frayed nerves on those not so wonderful days and nights. And her stories and her lullabies have what no best seller book or Billboard Top 20 song has. It has a soul, a soothing note. And yes, it has what matters most, it has love.

I don't know why I am so nostalgic about Grandma, but, I remember today, the simple joy that permeates everything that she touches. I remember today, most of all the love she showered on us unconditionally. I am grateful for her love and the simple lessons that shaped us grandchildren into what we are today. My first tryst with unconditional love came not from reading about it in a book or in hearing about it in songs. It came from the grand old lady who was there for me unconditionally always. Finally, I remember this story,  I am not sure if fully fact or partly fiction. My grandmother was at a spiritual gathering at an aunt's place. A revered spiritual guru was visiting and many folks visited her for her blessings. The spiritual leader took one look at my Grandma and said " Here is a lady who needs attend no lectures or read no scriptures, for on her lap plays the little Krishna". I have often wondered what that meant. Today, I know what that means. It means that there is no higher ideal than love. The little Krishna plays on her lap because of the uncomplicated and unconditional love that she showers on him. Remembering all things Grandma is remembering all things love....

Hand'la glass-u, Glass'la scotch-u, eyes full'a tear-u...

The Kolaveri Di song has gone viral across, breaking million hit records on You Tube and garnering prime-time conversation on television. Big celebrity daddies are either tongue-lashing the song or endorsing it. I saw report that a much respected lyricist called the lyrics an insult to sensibilities. I don't want to get into that debate. I enjoyed the song, period. I had a good chuckle at the lyrics. The music made me tap my feet. My mind was set free. But, recently, what has truly amazed me is the universal appeal of the song. I was dropping my girls off at the school bus and I see a bus load of school children singing the song. I see videos of Barack Obama enjoying the song. So, what makes this song click with a diverse set of folks. Maybe lyrics like "Hand'la glass-u, Glass'la scotch-u, eyes full'a tear-u" ring a bell with most folks!!

Mostly, I think it works because this is a song with no airs about it. It is spontaneous. It is honest. It is from the heart. Creativity comes from an external force that runs through you, it is said. The composers were possessed by a spontaneity that is probably lacking in the world these days. Most of the world today is calculating or calculated. Most of what we see and hear is packaged. Honest and original expressions are few and far in between. Kolaveri D is simply put an original, honest and spontaneous composition. It has the kind of spontaneity and disdain that a heartbroken drunkard can have for this world. Isn't it Hafiz of Persia, the famous Sufi who likened wine and love to losing your self, your ego. Wine lets you forget yourself with no regard for the world, though you wake up with a bad hangover and some shame. Love makes you forget yourself with no regard for what the world thinks of you. And you wake up with a smile. Kolaveri D captures that essence. It makes you forget the world and brings a smile on your face. It shares a simple message about the duality of this life. Love-u and Boov-u. Joy and heartbreak. All of this in a few spontaneous lines. Hand'la glass-u, Glass'la scotch-u, eyes full's tear-u.....Machha...enjoy it....

Two lives, two deaths in contrast

Last month, October, started with the sad demise of Steve Jobs and later in the month, one saw the grim and gory pictures of Colonel Muammar Qaddafi's death. October saw the passing away of these two world figures, each resulting in contrasting emotions. The quiet and graceful going away of Steve Jobs evoked heartfelt emotions and eulogy from all corners of the world. Messages poured in from people who had probably never ever met him, but had been touched by his genius and had found life through his creations. A fortnight later, one saw the bloody images of Colonel Qaddafi's death when he was hunted down by rebels. The violent death of the Colonel evoked equally strong but dark emotions from people who had again probably never ever met him, but had been touched by his tyranny and had lived in fear of destruction. Two deaths in contrast. Two reactions in contrast.

Two lives lived in contrast, two stories to remember. One story is about the biological son of an Arab immigrant brought up in an American home. A person who went in search of meaning to the Himalayas, only to come back to his home country to find meaning in his work. A genius who found his life's purpose in shaping an infinitely different and superior world to the one we inherited. The famous $ 1 salaried CEO, that was Steve Jobs. He gave back more than he took. He shaped a new world. The other story is about a young freedom fighter who took over the reins in Libya and initially propelled it to prosperity. A person who went in search of power, probably started with all good intentions but was finally undone by the dark and evil shadow of his own excesses. Enamored by power, the power he refused to give up, the power he used in ways that benefited him first, the power that forced him to ignore the greater good. The famous self-styled "King of Kings", that was Colonel Muammar Qaddafi. He took away more than he gave. He obsessively possessed his world, ruled through fear and domination resisting change. Two lives in contrast. Two stories in contrast.

A life of positive change through creation inspiring a generation. And the other, a life of tyranny through fear undermining a generation. In contrast, one was an inspirational life graceful in death. And the other, a self-obsessed life disgraced in the end. In contrast, one is a story of hope for the new age to embrace, the other is a painful remainder of the past to discard. Two lives, two deaths in contrast.  

Die a little and live a lot more

Last weekend, I received a call from someone close to me. It concerned a Japanese colleague of his who was visiting my town on work. This person had failed to show up for a client meeting, the client had called his hotel, the hotel had looked him up in his room only to find out that the gentleman had collapsed. Upon rushing him to the hospital, it was known that he had a brain hemorrhage. This lone traveler, all alone in an alien land was in deep coma. The helplessness of the situation, the uncertainty of this life, the illusions of this reality we have created....this incident provokes and makes you contemplate life. We live a life obsessed about our own selves, accumulating and planning for tomorrow, worrying about the future. Obsessed about a self form that can be taken away from us at any minute. Worried about a future which we have little control over. We live this image that we create for ourselves, so much so that we sometimes forget to live. This self image has to die a little for one to live a lot more.

I recollect this story I heard growing up, the story of King Harishchandra from Indian Mythology. He was  known as a person steadfast in his principles and at one point, to honor his word, he had to relinquish his kingdom and sell himself to work as a guard at a cremation ground. This changed his life, transformed his reality and stripped him bare of his image of self. It killed his ego. The absence of self helped him tide through difficult times. Think about it, the image of self stops you from living fully? Are your present actions clouded by unnecessary constraints imposed by this image of self? Do you hurt when the results of your actions are not as expected? This "ROI" (return on investment)  based life is not the way to lasting happiness. One has to let go of the image that we have created for ourselves. The self has to die a little for one to live a lot more.

Steve Jobs said "Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true. Our time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice." Don't let the image of your self, shaped by you and conditioned by others come in the way of you leading a full life. Let that image of self die just a little every day, let the constraints imposed be removed just a little every day, let life be unshackled to achieve its true purpose. Listen to your inner voice, live the moment, be in the present moment. Die a little and live a lot more. Viva la Vida!!