Your heart, I sense
Once again
Is a changeling
And now
Once again
I shall have to learn how to love.
Your heart, I sense
Once again
Is a changeling
And now
Once again
I shall have to learn how to love.
He speaks with conviction
In words certain
With belief, meaning and purpose
While she dwells in doubt
Her words sitting on the fence
Of belief, meaning and purpose
He knows what he sees
And sees what he knows
She overlooks what she sees
And oversees what she knows
He travels to distant lands
In search of industry, wealth and love
Carrying with him
Proof of accomplishment
Proof of wealth and
Proof of love
He’s driven by desire
To own and possess
She knows that to own
Is to be possessed
While he speaks of his dreams
Of bringing her all of heaven and earth
She wonders why he won’t see
That all of heaven
Is right here, right now
In her hearth
He works odd hours
He says it brings the bread home
She cooks for two
But dines alone.
He says he’s free like the wind
And will not be tied down
And yet like a gentle night breeze
That’s destined to fill in a calm
He fills into her arms
His defenses down.
We are all in a sense blind
Without insight.
Understanding doesn’t follow the rhythm
Of day and night
And its own dawn comes after
Many troubled nights.
I walk on the earth
A soul tormented
By thoughts that are the machinations
Of an untruthful mind.
I know that I need saving
But don’t know who else can save me
But me…
This is the first time
I stand face to no-face
Challenging myself
To speak my truth
Or remain forever silent.
This is the first time
I wish to see myself defeated
By a higher truth.
For in that I know
Lies my return to a place that
I’m trying to create for myself
In an imaginary world.
My hands join in prayer
And a tear rolls down my cheek
Today I pray for silence
So that I may rest
And so that no thought
Can come in between me and myself.
Thank you for joining us here to celebrate mom and dad’s fiftieth anniversary! Fifty years is a long time for two people to be together! Leave alone fifty years, we suffer so many little pinpricks in the course of our everyday lives that turning away from, and shutting off to our loved ones have become our default reactions. Life’s journey is a story of small disappointments intertwined with small joys, big losses compensated by relatively small gains and delusional, fanciful ideas that have little or no conversation with ‘REALITY.’ How then, when we all seem to be destined for a life of sorrow, do some people still manage to rise above these sorrows and live celebratory lives?
Here’s a list of things I’ve noted in my forty-two years with mum and dad:
A newly married couple went to a zen master and asked: “How do we make our love endure?”
He replied: Love each other, but more importantly, love together-something, someone other than yourselves.
For Suri and I too, tomorrow will mark our nineteenth wedding anniversary. And even as we live through our journey, with its highs and lows, for me, it’s the memory of mum and dad’s marriage that allows me to sustain the bad times and celebrate the good. And that to me is the greatest gift of all!
The true end of things
Is always at the beginning.
One day I shall cease to exist
Simply because I never did
to begin with.
Yes, I know
That there will be suffering
For you
When you have to let go
Unwillingly
Of all that you have owned
And laid claim to
Yes, I know
That I too shall suffer
In your suffering
Attached as I am
To your heart
Yoked as I am
To your being
A separation
A severance
A theft
A murder
Tortures unleashed on pleasures unwilling to relent
It’s all inevitable
Yes, I know.
I know you see me live
And ask of me all that I can give
But I’ve always wondered why
We don’t see each other die
Things often taken a turn
When the last remains burn
So easily we let go
Of all unworthy sorrow
And see clearly through moist eyes
That death claims us…
Long before we actually die.
I live in a mental asylum
With shadows for company
So powerful are my shadow-friends
That they’ve erected the walls
Of my asylum
For their existence
In its confinement
I yearn for friendship and company
Even if it is of the Unreal
The shadows beckon me to listen
Their amorphous forms speak in booming voices
That echo and resonate.
Their thoughts agree with my thoughts
That’s why we are friends…
We jog together in 10000-word dissertations
Or tickle each other with 140-character tweets
And I feel accomplished
That I now have friends in high places…
I now speak their slang
And their concerns
Are my concerns
Their outrage is my outrage
Happiness lies in the camaraderie
Between one bubble and another.
When you burst my bubble
I stand vacant
Alone in my madness…
And with this painful awareness
That I can’t see, or hear, or feel anyone
Outside of the thick walls
Of my mental asylum.
I have been shut in
To be protected from any contact with the breathing…
My walls are thick, impenetrable and safe
My shadow-friends erected them so that they could play
And oh yes, my walls have names
Please meet: Ideology. Fear. Pain. Self-loathing.
Within me
So many have lived
and scripted my story
Some have stayed
for decades
for years
Pined
Agonized
Washed away
by floods of tears.
Some come visiting
a month, a week
and leave soon after
they find their seek
Coveted guests
who appear
for a minute or two
Rejuvenate
Refresh and
Renew.
A residue of wisdom
on ways to cope
They leave behind
magical wings of hope.
My nothingness defined
by their very being
They’ve challenged what I know
of my seeing.
They’ve come to me
inhabited my space
They’ve shown their artistry
their canvas- my face.
Desires in search
for room, for chest
They’ve come to me
to manifest.
It’s in rare moments like these
I stand face to face
Watching in silence
My nothingness
My space.
I know now
I can clearly see
My space is nothing
But desire’s destiny.
Money is that bone of contention that has created some of the world’s broadest divisions: the haves and the have-nots; the materialists and the spiritualists; the pragmatists and the philosophers. These divisions, however, are absolute only in theory and most of us find ourselves sitting on the fence- in between the two extremes of the money debate. We understand the need to be astute about money but fear its corrupting influence. We’re glad we have enough, but would like just a little bit more. We want to help those in need but want to be convinced beyond reasonable doubt that they truly need it. How come we give so freely of our advice but tighten up in cautious knots in when expected to give of our money? How do we develop the right perspective on money? How do we measure its correct importance in our lives? Most of us have developed a socially polite attitude towards money, which is more often than not, at variance with how we internally feel about it.
Although it started as a simple instrument of exchange, it has become that very thing of value that we, wittingly or unwittingly trade our every thing for. It seems to have become the value of all values. We trade our time, our skills, our youth, our family relationships (sometimes) and our health in its pursuit. It has been the basis of many a friendship as also the basis of many a break-up. We see it as compensation, reward, power; as oxygen to our way of life, as a license to behave indulgently, as a marker of social status, as an expression of love and in the very least- albeit fundamentally- as a currency of trade.
The topic of ‘Money’ interestingly brings to the surface all possible themes of thought such as: ideas about right and wrong, just and unjust, beautiful and ugly, the sublime and the vulgar, moral and immoral, the astute and the naïve and the pragmatic and the philosophical. This only goes to show that money has penetrated deeply into all aspects of our lives. Money tends to cleave our perception. Through its prospect, our world stands divided into two halves, which are forever in conflict and tireless debate with each other. And we find ourselves on a pendulum course swaying from one side of the debate to the other. Why is it that a simple instrument of exchange fosters in our minds such a perpetual restlessness?
With the exponential growth of industry and commerce, we’re all inevitably money-minded. In today’s world everything we wish for, for a comfortable existence, can be acquired- for a price. The effect of such money-mindedness is that we’re always sizing things up; measuring their worth; pronouncing them desirable or undesirable and feverishly seeking profit over loss. Our economic system has permeated every other aspect of our being and has now also become our philosophical system. Everything we have, we believe is worthy of trade. In fact in a strange travesty of thought, we consider only those things about us valuable that we can trade in a market place. Money- in our lives- has overstepped its boundaries and today, it seems, everything has a price.
… But then, is such an occurrence or such a circumstance, unnatural? Is it really an indication of man’s sin and his deviation from his spirituality? Is the business of living at odds with man’s spiritual existence? Or is the entire business of living- with all its trials and tribulations- the mere working of an indifferent natural law? Is it possible at all- one wonders- to be misguided, even in matters of money and blind ambition? It almost seems- on close examination- that the law naturally corrects all excesses and that its ultimate aim is to arrive to a state of equilibrium and balance.
Money- as it always ultimately reveals itself – doesn’t have any attribute, worth or power of its own. It is we who give it its reputation. Some of us fear it; some of us worship it, some serve it, some vehemently deny it importance and some others master it. It’s very apparent that money behaves exactly as our mind prompts it to behave. If you prompt it to lord over you, it will. Money itself comes with its price and as such will extract that price. Sometimes we pay with our health, sometimes we trade our relationships and mostly we pay with our time. Like the Merchant of Venice, money will try and extract its pound of flesh.
Yet, money it seems, is an instrument of trade on more than one level. Through its temptation and false promises and then through its inevitable betrayal, man is left to himself- at first lost in its pursuit and then heroically redeemed.
So why is it that everything must be paid for? Why must man pay to discover himself? Every bright new day has to wait for the end of a long, lingering night. The transactions of money in our lives only reflect the working of another, higher natural law. Existence is never even. All highs are followed by lows; abundance by paucity; day by night and inhalation by exhalation. All that comes must go. And for all that comes, something else must go. Nature seeks balance; a repose in nothingness. Nature favors neither the rich nor the poor. She simply ensures and sustains the co-existence of both. There cannot be one without the other. The presence of riches in one area of your life is always balanced by an equal poverty in another. The problem really with the human mind is that the rich are blind to their poverty and the poor are blind to their wealth. Like a famous wit has said: ‘Success has made failures of so many men.’ When our self-esteem is derived from the weight of our wallets, it shows a dangerous dependence over money and a great poverty of spirit. Money is only a shadow. And gigantic as it may seem in a certain light, chasing it amounts to nothing more than chasing a shadow. The real work that we do, in fact, is in the least rewarded by money. Its higher reward comes in the form of greater self-reliance and a gradual independence from all things external.
In the final analysis, whichever way you look at it, the balance sheet of life always ends in a perfect tally. We’re all poor to only that extent that we’re rich.