Silence is all I can say. ~Mevlana Rumi

A spirit that lives in this world
and does not wear the shirt of love,
such an existence is a deep disgrace.

Be foolishly in love,
because love is all there is.
There is no way into presence
except through a love exchange.

If someone asks, But what is love?
answer, Dissolving the will.
True freedom comes to those
who have escaped the questions
of free will and fate.

Love is an emperor.
The two worlds play across him.
He barely notices their tumbling game.

Love and lover live in eternity.
Other desires are substitutes
for that way of being.
How long do you lay embracing a corpse?
Love rather the soul, which cannot be held.

Anything born in spring dies in the fall,
but love is not seasonal.
With wine pressed from grapes,
expect a hangover.

But this love path has no expectations.
You are uneasy riding the body?
Dismount. Travel lighter.
Wings will be given.

Be clear like a mirror
reflecting nothing.

Be clean of pictures and the worry
that comes with images.

Gaze into what is not ashamed
or afraid of any truth.

Contain all human faces in your own
without any judgment of them.

Be pure emptiness.
What is inside that? you ask.
Silence is all I can say.

~Mevlana Rumi

Moments and milestones…

I am not original in what I feel
Many have said it before
But it is the truth
So, I say it once more…

Happiness is in moments, fleeting.
You have to be aware and steal it
Or life will pull a fast one
And you will be left with nothing
But regret and repenting.

So, dear friend
Look for the moments in life,
Waiting, while you rush after milestones
Those are visible from afar…
The minor ones are there
Wanting you to come and share
The beauty that is in them
Stop for a while… walk off the road
Don’t worry it will always be there
Bury your feet in the grass
Let the breeze mess your hair
Smile at the sunshine making
Golden patterns here and there

A few lines...

Kisine aankho me aanso diye...
Tum paani samajh kar pi jao

Kisine ne gham ke saaye diye...
Tum hothon pe muskaan layo

Kisine ne zakhm-e-nasoor diye...
Tum auro ke liye marham ban jao

Yehi ek jeeni ki raah hai, dost...
Bas yun hi jiye jao


Attempted translation:

If someone fills your eyes with tears, absorb them as if water

If someone gives sorrow, let your face light up with a smile

If someone gives an eternal wound, be sure to soothe others

This is the only way to live, friend; Just keep on living

The Australian PM said:

India Needs A Leader Like This !

Muslims who want to live under Islamic Sharia law were told on Wednesday by Prime Minister John Howard of Australia to get out of Australia , as the government targeted radicals in a bid to head off potential terror attacks.

Howard angered some Australian Muslims by saying he supported spy agencies monitoring the nation's mosques. Quote: "IMMIGRANTS, NOT AUSTRALIANS, MUST ADAPT. Take It Or Leave It. I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individual or their culture. Since the terrorist attacks on Bali , we have experienced a surge in patriotism by the majority of Australians."

"This culture has been developed over two centuries of struggles, trials and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom"

"We speak mainly ENGLISH, not Spanish, Lebanese, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part of our society . Learn the language!"

"Most Australians believe in God. This is not some Christian, right wing, political push, but a fact, because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented. It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools. If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture."

"We will accept your beliefs, and will not question why. All we ask is that you accept ours, and live in harmony and peaceful enjoyment with us."

"This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND, and OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about Our Flag, Our Pledge, Our Christian beliefs, or Our Way of Life, I highly encourage you take advantage of one other great Australian freedom, 'THE RIGHT TO LEAVE'."

"If you aren't happy here then LEAVE. We didn't force you to come here. You asked to be here. So accept the country YOU accepted."




Maybe if we circulate this amongst ourselves, Indian citizens will find the backbone to start speaking and voicing the same truths. Do you agree ?

Angry, Anguished yet Hopeful II: IT IS NOW

I have been reading blogs and discussion boards flogging Muslims and/ or Pakistanis. And this base reaction scares me. An eye for an eye will leave all blind. Too many innocent lives have been lost... a 2 year old orphaned on his birthday. a father losing two daughter the apples of his eyes, a young major (1977-2008)... 150 or more. Not mere statistics... each a person with his or her own world, now desolate with their loss. We owe them a sensible and reasonable way of thinking. Not more innocents to join them.

I hear the voices baying for blood. I bay for it too but for the blood of those responsible whoever and wherever they may be. I want our anger to be controlled and channlised in a way that the right target is "targetted"... not a religion, a community or country (though the links are obvious... this does not mean we start bombing Pakistan), it means weeding out the scrouge.

I don't know why and from where I have faith that my country will take a mature, well thought out course of action and all my fellow Indians will support that course. Becase if ever India has been pushed in a corner and can be heard screaming "WE HAVE HAD ENOUGH", it is NOW. Let this moment be a unifying one and may NO ONE be able to "play their personal gain games" with this moment to be communal or separate us. WE STAND AS ONE... Hindu, Muslims everyone, hand in hand against terror. We shall not be fooled by anything but the RIGHT thing. Let our leadership know this.

Angry, Anguished yet Hopeful

"Fifty hours of pure terror and disbelief.
Ours hearts, full with rage and grief.
The blood on the road flowed
in our veins, we feel the pain.
We have died with innocents
and the fighters...
We cry with the families
A bond ties us.
Evil has no nation
caste or creed.
Target the deed
Not the breed..."


I am so numb with what has unfolded in my country over the last 50 hours that I can barely string a sentence. But I must, for when I feel is when the truth is revealed. I saw people die, cry, come away alive. I saw men in uniform doing their duty, professionally, efficiently and sensibly. I saw NDTV report the most sensbile and was aghast at the exclusives in other channels! Shocked me, I tell you... scoring brownie points at a time like this! Petty, pathetic and painful.

A bindless bond...

He sat by her side, holding her hand. She smiled at him and said “; don’t be… this is life. People come and go, I am going. And I don’t want you to come with me. You have my love in your heart to keep you strong and move on in life; find a wonderful woman to grow old with. You will, right?’ Her tone was firm yet beseeching. He felt his heart tighten with emotion. Before he knew it, a few tears fell from his eyes. She said”, I hate tears, Pushpa”.

He smiled, in spite of himself. He looked into her eyes. They were luminous, radiant pools of light. It has always been her eyes that captivated him. Whenever she used to look at him, he used to feel as if she was inside his mind and heart; there was nothing hidden from her. How could there be, in the face of such deep love? And he liked the fact that there were no secrets from her, even though many things were always unsaid. He always knew were they said, she would have understood. A thought that enveloped him like a cozy blanket. To be totally understood, just as one is… extremely rare.

She softly said his name and he bent down to listen “, you are my strength. Don’t think I am not afraid of dying, but I am brave because you are here with me. Love gives you courage to face all, even one’s own death. Hain naa”? He nodded yes, unable to speak.

“, and also courage to live in spite of a loved one’s death, meri jaan, because love itself never dies, yaad rakhna. Rakhoge naa? Apni zindagi bharpoor jeena and if someone holds out a hand, reach out, if it doesn’t work out; be sure another hand will come your way; you just have to have faith in love. Main to chali jaungi, tumhari chinta sukoon se aakhri saans bhi nahin lene deti’.

He steeled himself and said”, Pata e, pehli picture kaunsi dekhunga uske saath… Amar Prem”. Her smile was the ray of the sun, when she heard that. Her hand tightened around his… she said aur nahin to kya.

And the sun set at 9:45 am.

THE SHADOW...

It was one of those get togethers at the GOC’s house and I was draping my turquoise sari. Atul came to help me with the pleats which he always did…I smiled. He looked so handsome in his bandhgala. It was navy blue, which caught his complexion really well. He looked every inch the officer and the gentleman he was. My heart swelled with pride and my love for him shone in my eyes. He preened, touching his mouche, combing away imaginary unruly strands of hair, dusting his shoulders. I nudged him and we both laughed, in perfect harmony with each other.

We entered the party lawns and walked towards our host Gen. K , who was holding court with some officers and their wives. A grinned “The cat is away (referring to the Gen’s wife)… I smiled. It was well known in the Army circle that Mrs. K was a tough old bird. Suddenly, A called out “Hey! Bhatta, you bugger! Come here”. I turned to see a young officer, probably a captain with his wife walking up to us. Oh! She was so pretty, in her heavy Benarasi saree, gold jewellery and her wedding choora.

She looked shy, ill at ease. My heart warmed towards her, knowing what she must be feeling. The Army atmosphere can be overwhelming for a young girl, the protocol, the sit down dinners, I had been through it, and so I knew the anxiety one feels as a new bride. You want to make a good impression especially for your husband’s sake. And there is enough gossip floating around about how the ladies can tear one to shreds, if one doesn’t know the salad fork from the dinner one at those stuffy formal sit-downs!

“Maam, this is S, my wife”, said Bhatta, proudly. I spoke to her warmly, asking her about her family etc. She talked to me a bit shyly at first, but soon was chattering away, telling me about her exams and their honeymoon in Goa (a favourite destination for young officers as the Army has a nice setup in Panjim)… After a while, we moved away, had to circulate… but I kept looking out for S, smiling whenever I spotted her, she reminded me of myself so much when I had been a new bride. A asked me “L, what is it? Why the smile?” I said “Just that I look at her and see myself then and now as a Col’s wife, sure of what is expected of me. Just thinking she will be sure too”. He nodded, saying “He is a bright chap, will rise, got an alpha on his YO’s.” We looked towards them and I felt the hair on my arms rise!

I saw something behind S, a hazy figure of a woman. I don’t know why, my heart filled with sense of foreboding. I felt a cold finger run up my spine. Something terrible was going to happen! I asked A “What is that?” He couldn’t see anything. After a minute or so, though it seemed like forever, the shadow disappeared. My throat was dry. “Oh! God… they are so young! Let nothing happened to them” a silent prayer escaped my lips.
I was quiet for the rest of the evening and as we drove back home, I asked A “Is the brigade moving out for anything?” He said “Yes, darling. You know its winter; we will be going for the regular exercise in the desert area. Why?” I said nothing.

In the next few weeks, I met S too, once or twice at a Ladies Meet and a coffee morning. But it was at a welfare event that I saw the shadow again just behind her. I shook my head, it was still there. My heart tightened.

That evening, I waited for A’s call. When the phone rang, I snatched it and asked him “How is Capt. Bhattacharya? Where is he?” There was a note of surprise in A’s voice as he answered, “He is with his unit. They are 100 kms away from my location. Why?” Then I told him of what I had seen and my fears. He laughed gently, cracked a few jokes and in his usual way, put my fears to rest. I was feeling light when I hung up.

The next morning, the phone rang around 6 am. I reached out for it and as I listened to the voice telling me what had happened, I realized that the shadow had been for me, not S.

Solitaire

What's Your Goddess Identity?

My Result: Muse

Known for your creative powers, you Muses are the poets and musicians of life, the patrons of the fine arts. It's funny, though — even with your inspirational prowess, you're probably not the type to boast about your guitar-strumming skills, or your latest published book of verse.

While it's great when people flock to you for ideas, there probably is a part of you that prefers to blend in sometimes — whether dressing in muted shades or staking out a one-on-one conversation at parties and social events. But try as you might not to hog the spotlight, others can't help but notice you. Must be hard to be such a goddess!

Despite any lingering modesty, you might be surprised at how much your mere presence can help improve the lives of those around you by infusing them with ideas and good thoughts. With that kind of healing energy, your inspirational ways have the potential to change the world, Muse. Whether you're scribbling sonnets, boogying with your friends, or drawing your own constellations — you're tapped in. So keep your eyes wide open to the possibilities and let that inspiration flow!

What are you?
http://web.tickle.com/jumpto?test=goddessidentityogt&c=50652

The Phoenix...

She folded her knees and sat up, rocking to and fro, as if trying to comfort her own self with a steady motion. She felt dead; as if someone had sucked her life force from within and left just a shell, a husk with no grain. Her grief, her hurt was too deep for tears.

She blankly stared into space as if trying to divine an answer from the air itself. I could hear her silent screams "Why", why"... she repeated the same word. I knew. She wanted to make sense of it all; sense of something which just is. There is no pattern to it. It manifests itself into each person's life in a different way and each person has to fight for his or her own survival. I have given them everything, but it’s dormant. They have to activate their own selves.

And while I wept tears of blood for her, I stood by her side, saying nothing, just sending thought wave after thought wave of love towards her heart, hoping that through the darkness, even a small ray would reach her, telling her that life is still worth living and the stranger she meets on the bus deserves a smile. Just because the last stranger wiped the smile of her face with a backhand swipe, she must still trust; as in that lies her salvation. To smile, to love, to live, to rejoice... in spite of ALL that may happened.

She was sobbing now, her body shaking and trembling, her head bent down on her knees, immersed in her agony. My heart went out to her and I said ", Child! Do not weep anymore. The oceans in my universe have run dry as they fall from your eyes. I beseech you to try and see me, see that I love you, and see that my arms are open wide for you. But till such time that you are where you are, you must still smile, spread love and joy, and never get bitter because that is certain poison to kill me"...
She looked up, as if straight into my eyes, and I could see her spirit fighting her pain, and as a tiny smile glinted in her eyes, I knew that once again, the phoenix had risen. I sent her a bright colorful ray on which danced a thousand dreams and went on.

"Hope" ... a poem by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—


And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird—
That kept so many warm—


I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Meaningless

I have personally been through a very rough patch, devastating, infact. I lost my husband, my elder brother in a span of 5 months. They were both less than 40. Some other problems also cropped at the same time. In short, my life just seemed to spiral out of control. I ended up in a city I didn’t know, a place where I had no friends, in a situation where I felt totally helpless. I just did not know what to do with my time or myself.
What I did was “face” what had happened. It is easier said than done. I didn’t want to admit that just after 3 years of bliss, my husband had died or my elder brother who was like a roof over my head, had died as well. Notice that I say “die” not passed away, or moved on. Saying this even to myself was very difficult. But it was the truth, right? No point in shutting it out… there is NO way one can shut truth out. It creeps in through cracks, in bits and pieces, in shapes and forms that leave one feeling worse. Much better to let it in, and wash over you, in its entirety. Believe me, this “allowing” self to feel is a huge step towards moving on. I shut myself out. I cried. I stayed in darkness. I grieved. I fought with God. But, at the back of my mind, I was just strengthening my self to rise up, stronger and sure of myself. You know, one reads about the power of free will and choice, but till realization sets in, the concept remains just that, a concept.

Today, as I write this, I smile because I know now that the so-called meaningless things in life have more meaning for the one who can see. We all go through life, conditioned by society, family about what has meaning… a career, a beautiful home, money, to be able to travel to exotic places, and you CANNOT be single! (What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you seeing anyone? Sounds familiar?)… We hear it so much, read about it in glossies, see perfection sashay down ramps on TV, see people leading a lifestyle that one can only aspire towards. Somewhere, somehow, we start believing that OUR life the way it is is not good enough. We are not good-looking enough, fit enough, rich enough, interesting enough… and we cry inside, screaming “enough is enough”, yet no one hears, sometimes, even we don’t hear our “self” calling out…
And then, life is a drag; one feels like Atlas twice over, sucked in a dark vortex, wondering how to deal with it.
Here’s how: Let yourself feel, let yourself go, dive straight in the dark dank waters of negative thoughts. You need to confront each of these, before you can let go. I liken it to crossing a river; you need to swim across to know the depths, to understand the nature of the river. If you build a bridge, or row across in a boat, you will get to the other side, but without knowing what the river is like. I hope my example is clear. In short, embrace something close so that you can let it go. Paradoxical? Yes! But so is life!


Learn to reach out to others. There is NOTHING that has happened to you that hasn’t to anyone else and it will happen again to someone. You are not alone in your moment of happiness or pain. But its just that, a moment. And last but not the least, be grateful to life, to God, to everyone, even those people who hurt you or gave up on you, they enriched your life’s experience in their own way. After all, can one just survive on sweets? You need a balance. Is night anything without day and does day have any meaning without night? Remember to be grateful for this balance in your life. Treat everything in life as a lesson. Learn to ask yourself when in any situation, what can I learn from this? Believe me, you will find something! I am a different person today. I keep busy, am peaceful and like waking up in the mornings! I don’t have any secret formula to share with you, or some magical chant or potion. It’s just that I have changed my definition of what has meaning for me. A smile on a stranger’s face, the green of the leaves, the sky with its multi hued patterns, even a lone flowerpot on someone’s windowsill makes me smile. Life is beautiful, indeed, even with all its broken dreams and rough rides.

Zindagi...

hum khud hi hain apne

baaki sab log hain sapne

jo chor jaate hain kuch

sheeshe ke rangeele

tukde paon me dhainse hue;

zindagi bhi mazaq karti hain,

nikaalna chaho to rok leti hain;

kehti hain inhi pe chalo jahan tak

chalna naseeb hain; aur dard

uska kya, wohi to mere kareeb hain.

Colours...

I was clad in red just like you

My hands anointed with henna

My feet heavy with anklets

Bangles tinkling in my hands

Filling his heart with music

I felt his hand around my waist

And his lips on mine

For the very first time

I had blushed too

Under his longing gaze

While people milled

Around us for days

The colour, the celebration

The joy and the elation

posing for pretty pictures

standing in front of mirrors

It all has been mine

With grace divine

Don’t shy away

From me, friend

Do understand

That Just because

I now wear white

And you red bright

You turn your face

away from me today

Your today was mine

Just yesterday

my today could be yours

Maybe tomorrow…

Two sides of the

Same picture are we

It could have been you

Instead of me.

Forgiven, not forgotten ... a poem

Do you feel it now
As time wrinkles your brow
You were strong once
Full of your immortality
Your sense of power
Beyond measure
In a child’s agony,
You found pleasure
Do you now see
What you did
To a little girl, me
Scared and timid
Bruised and scarred me
While filled with lust
Kicked me while
I groveled in the dust
But He was there
Watching over me
Just as He sees you
Slump in your chair
He bought down
Forgetfulness
In a haze
Kept me cocooned
In a daze
I grew strong
While you grew weak
Time flew for us
As it does for all
I am an adult now
Not a girl small
I forgive you
For your deeds
But how do I forget
My heart bleeds
For terror unspoken
For innocence lost
For cries so silent
For screams so loud
That I hear them
Even today
While I sleep
And I weep
Tears of grief
For a little girl
Who called you Father

Prudence- with you are good judgement and a sharp mind.

Justice		93%
Prudence		93%
Hope		82%
Charity		71%
Temperance		71%
Fortitude		61%
Faith		32%

The Seven Heavenly Virtues
created with QuizFarm.com

F & B

Rain, mists and clouds
Beauty and her beloved
Walking down a narrow path
Treacherous but safe,
In the hands of her lover- Faith

Home...

What is it about home?
You travel all around the world,
yet long for home, the one place
you feel rested, at peace,
is it a place or just a feeling
that warms your heart?
Is it her smile of welcome,
when I trudge back,
weary and she opens the door?
Is it the cosy familiarity of my couch
in which I sit and ponder?
Is it the smell of onions frying
in the kitchen as she prepares dinner?
Is it the shadow of the tree
that falls across my window?

Or is it just me, belonging here?

LIFE ON HER TERMS... (a story or is it?)

She sifted through her table drawers once again; didn’t want to leave any memory, untouched before she left and of course destroying damning evidence, if any. She smiled, thinking to herself that she had actually never done anything which needed to be hidden or destroyed. She had lived her life, with dignity and her head held high. “An open book”, Opal” that’s how one dear friend had described her. Ah well, better to be open than closed; makes it easy to deal with people and be free, truthful. After all, an open book wouldn’t have any pages hidden, now would it?

Of course, in her life’s journey, her idealism had mellowed and now she knew that she could only be responsible for her thoughts and that s it. If anyone needs change, it has to come from within, and no matter how much you love a person, you are still not that person’s thinking. You can pray, ache, agonize for them but you cannot realize for them. Yup, that was not possible. She didn’t mind the pain that had come her way; there were plenty of good times to remember not just the losses, she knew that. But she also knew that to be able to GO ON, one must receive, and give and receive in return, This is the eternal scheme of things; the symbol of zero; full circle, the serpent eating its own tail, however one put it… this was how things were meant to be, how mankind was meant to be; not standing with their hands crossed their chest but each one holding another’s hand. She grinned, God! May that day come when we all hold each other, carry each other and hold out our hand to the man with the lonely eyes. OMG! That was a line from a Supertramp song. She laughed out aloud, thinking of how much she loved music and how even now it was seeped within her sub conscious, even now, when…

There was nothing in the drawers. She turned her attention to the little packet she had made. It had his handkerchief, watch, a picture of the two of them and a letter she had written while he had been away. Was she being Egyptian, she grinned, how does it matter, doing this is giving me peace now and that’s what counts. After all, wasn’t it time she looked out for herself? Her peace? Her space? Her life?

Her eyes grew moist as she thought again of how cruelly pages from her book of life had been ripped out. My dear friend, don’t you realize the jagged edges remain and that they cause pain which never goes away. Yet, how silly to expect compassion from someone who was brutal enough to tear her life apart in the first place.

She walked around her house, touching things here and there, smiling. Oh, before she forgot, she lit up incense in each room, because the fragrance was calming and while she was calm, she knew that when that front door opened, whoever entered would be anything but calm.

She entered her bedroom drew the curtains, stripped and went for a shower, cool water running down her body. She sighed with pure pleasure and scrubbed herself well. Taking the towel from the rack, she draped herself in it drying, her hair, her hair was long, thick and almost till her waist, that took forever to dry. She tossed the dryer aside. The weather was balmy; they would dry on their own. What should she wear? She stood in front of her closet, wondering at the perennial “what should I wear” feminine dilemma.

First things first, she put on a new pair of undies, and a bra which fit her very well. Then she took her favorite long skirt and pulled it over her head, reached out for an orange t-shirt. She grinned at her choice of clothes; she was always one for comfort, not fashion. But her one weakness, perfumes, esp. layering, you know when one bathes with a soap or a shower gel and uses a body lotion and then sprays on the perfume (all the same brand)… She had chosen Paris by YSL. No particular reason, she just liked it. She went and sat down on her bed, put the packet she had made on the side table, turning her head this way and that to make sure her bedroom was in order.

Then she lay down on her bed, took out the razor blade and slit her wrists.

Alone...all one, all alone

A small note of music echoes in my heart...

Or is it your laughter that I hear from beyond time itself?

... echoing down the centuries to finally reach me?

A smile plays at my lips as I reach out... to you

only to grasp nothing and as you fade away into the mists of time...

I wake up to the harsh reality of being alone.