Lalsa Verma's Blog

Not All Things Promised

 

Not all stories meet their endings,Not all struggles are won.Not all desires see the light of fruition,Not all journeys find their destinations.Not all hearts bloom in love,Not all friendships end in memories.Not all hopes survive time,Not all joys bring us shine.Not all sorrows are mourned,Not all love stories get their chance.Not all skies are starry,Not all smiles are peaceful.But when was it all promised?For life, doesn't come in a gift box.You either die with no regrets,Or you live and die every day.

Surrender

Pic Credit: Google Images




The Mansarovar lake, calm and silvery,

Spread till the edges of the daunting Himalayan peaks.

There! And what is there in the center? A small ripple,

It grows bigger and bigger but the lake stays undisturbed.

For such is her vastness and such is her equanimity.

The ripple shudders, a small laceration breaks the surface,

And slowly you emerge from beneath the cool waters, poised and pristine.

The whites clung to your ethereal body, pearls of water drop from your serpent like black hair,

And as radiant as the Sun is your face.

Is it divine call or are you creature of habit like all mortals?

You do not know!

You simply walk out in a quiet trance,

Leaving behind trails of water and bits of your history you do not need anymore.

The call you heard of silence which promises you joy,

While the world behind you toll in everyday turmoil.

Dhurva beneath your heel is soft as the white floss of the clouds,

Dew on the neighboring flowers and coral tree afar.

Perched, that bird tweets as the creepers grow on the mountain walls,

That Mount Kailash will be white with snow, you always believed,

Instead, you find a garden of devotion which gently tells that Spring never leaves.

You walk as the trance continues,

The flowers dance and the squirrels accompany you.

That soft sound of falling water has brought your walk to a sudden halt,

A little far is the rivulet running down that mountain wall.

Laden with the fragrance of ancient flowers,

It flows through Heavens before its earthly fall.

Is it a ritual or an instinct or a craving of a devotional heart?

You do not know!

But you pick up an ancient pot to fill it with the rivulet’s water.

You put the pot in the nook of your curvaceous waist,

Walk attentively so as not to give the brimming pot a start.

It has been a few miles and things seem to change,

The quiet is ever so beautiful, the trees enchanting and the parrots are talking to you.

Tender entwining vines furl and unfurl at your touch,

And beyond are the luscious trees forming an archway.

At the behest of your heart you walk under that archway,

The pot still brimming as you wonder at the mist forming un your way.

You can see nothing but white mist,

Scare? But it is not what you feel.

Deep faith propels you,

And for the first time in a long time you know what you feel.

At the end of the archway the mist thins, a silhouette appears.

You run as it pulls you,

You run not worrying about the brimming pot,

You just run!

Sitting on the rock is the divine himself,

Crescent moon adorned on the forehead, the serpent King around his neck.

The blue venom resting in his throat,

Rudraksh armlets and wide chest, clad in tiger skin he smiles.

You look on enchanted,

The untamed passion in his eyes, the enthralling smile,

The calm that emanates from him,

And the cosmos he built and he destroyed.

The formless, the limitless, the divine awaits you,

And the joy you came looking for is now growing in you.

A tiny spec in your creation, I am, oh Lord,

Allow me to show my love, oh Shiva!

Say you with the eagerness of a lost soul.

He smiles and your joy knows no bounds,

The closer you go the lighter you feel.

Is this how it should feel, you wonder…

Over his shoulders you pour from the brimming pot,

He sits patiently smiling and his love for you grows every moment.

Handful of Vibhuti you smear on his hand and feet,

The next moment you fear for you did a terrible mistake.

Where is the garland and where are the flowers, you think…

He smiles, he knows for you are a part of him.

Your eyes are shone of tears,

As you see the garland and flowers appear.

He smiles as he knows,

The devotion you feel, the faith you placed in him

And the love that flows in you.

You garland him and flowers you offer,

You bow and put your head at his feet.

The emotion that transcends cannot be spoken in words,

The tears that stream incessantly are of joy and not fear.

You say,

Oh Shiva, help me as I seek shelter,

Ignorance and pride are all I have known.

Greed and sloth, hatred and envy are all I have sown,

Show me the path to rise above,

And have a heart that knows only love.

And I am at your feet as I surrender.

Summer Vacation

Pic Credit: Google Images




Ding…ding…ding…ding

Was the sweetest sound at eight,

As we cheered and shoved and pushed out of the class,

Long and bright summer vacation lay ahead in wait.

The clanking trollies of ice lollies

The sweet calls of the berry vendors,

Colorful frams, kiss me toffies and the loly pops,

And that one rupee coin with which I bought it all.

I came in running and threw the bag aside

It seems you’ll never need those books again,

Came mother’s chiding voice as she stared at me in surprise,

And I just smiled for,

Long and bright summer vacation lay ahead in wait.

As the morning sun filled the room with light

And at seven the drawing room clock chimed,

I woke up chirpy and bright,

Clad in a pale blue frock, said, here I come and smiled.

That gigantic black gate was as daunting as it could be

And the quiet growling of ‘Sheroo’ was paralyzing me,

Sapna? Sapna?! I somehow mustered,

She’s still asleep came a frail voice and I sighed,

For long and bright summer vacation lay ahead in wait.

My happy morning was spent sulking

And to make it worse mother suggested some reading,

Thank god it was time for breakfast,

As grandpa, had started to show the types of cursive handwritings.

Three long lessons of prose and poetry

And summer vacation looked miserably long,

Lalsa? Lalsa, where are you? Came the voice,

And fell in my ears like the morning dew.

Why are you so late? I wanted to shout

But the dolls in Sapna’s hands made me forget it all,

The far end of the terrace was long waiting for us,

Guarding us from the noon sun stood the neighboring mango tree, tall.

Tea was made and lunch was prepared

Tiny pebbles were rice and the mango leaves were the flat bread,

We took turns and went to office,

But not once we agreed when it came to doing the dishes.

The Sun was no more overhead

And the shadow of the mango tree fell on the other end,

Heat had risen and mother’s patience dropped,

Lalsa? Sapna? Sapna? Lalsa?! Were the angry calls,

That made us scared.

Waiting at the gate were our mothers

Exasperations and sighs were made very clear,

Enough already! It’s time you both came home.

But mother! But mom! Was the unanimous implore.

Mothers were determined and we too were hungry

So, at five?

Oh…yes, on the ground I said,

And we were quick to agree.

Four hours of playing was not enough!

Mothers wondered

We simply smiled

As the long and bright summer vacation lay ahead in wait for us.

It’s not you, it’s me!

It’s not you, it’s me

The red rug that faded over the years

The curtain rings which silently chipped away

The corner window that brings no breeze

That lone pot which once bloomed yearns no more.

They all said, it’s not you, it’s me!

The boiling tea, the cracked mugs

The stale smell of those peanut butter cookies

The dried grease, the rust coating on the stove

And that guilty looking three-legged stool croaked.

It’s not you, it’s me!

The empty flower bed and that dried patch in the lawn

That quietly hiding squirrel, that accusing little parrot

The constant dripping of the garden faucet

The glaring sheen of the iron gate.

They all said, it’s not you, it’s me!

The tiresome walk and the stones along the road

The echo of the mountains and those streams of muddy water

The quietness of the night

And the silent thumping of my heart.

They all said, it’s not you, it’s me!

The dark sky became darker

And soon came down the sleet and the rain

The corner window was no more quiet

And the lone pot made enough noise.

The rain did not come alone

Brought along a friend

The soft and silent

Pearly and pale flakes of snow.

As last the night had passed and sun had shone

And everywhere the blueness of the sky had poured

Birds sang and frolicked around

And the breeze blew up and down.

They all chose what felt right

And I stood by my pride

Brave heartedly I chose myself

And yes,

It’s not you, it’s me!

उन शांत आँखों में...

उन शांत आँखों में छुपा ये कैसा सैलाब है,

मुस्कुराते होंठों की परत के पीछे दर्द का एहसास है...

सुबह की खिलती धुप में रात भर की सिसकियों की आवाज़ है,

भीड़ में हर पल ढूंढता एकांत, ये मन्न इतना क्यों अशांत है...

एक पल कुछ चाहता है दूसरे ही पल दूर भागता है,

आंखें खुली हो या बंद, मन्न धोका पहचानता है...

फिर हर पल धोखा क्यों खाता है?

संभालता है, सब कुछ समेटता है और फिर निकलता है...

एक अंजनी सी चाह में, भीड़ में किसी अपने जैसे को पाने की आस में,

नअजाने कितनी ठोकरे मिलती है और कितने ही सपने भीकरते है,

पर ये मन्न कुछ ढीट है...

बिखरे सपनो को मोती समझ पिरो लेता है, ठोकरों पैर हंस चल देता है,

कुछ पूछो तोह कहता है की इन ठोकरों का अपना मज़ा है...

माना भीड़ में परेशान हु और खुद को मिलते धोखों से हैरान हु,

लेकिन ये भीड़, ये धोके, ये ठोकरें, येही सच है...

और ये सच मुझे स्वीकार है...

I knew!

Pic Credit: Google Images



In that very moment, I knew

You and me,

Stood hand in hand but were miles apart,

Like day and night, so close yet so far.

You looked into my eyes and smiled

But the warm glow in my eyes had long died,

Your tender touch felt nothing but ice cold and,

In that very moment, I knew.

You and me

Have been together for so long like old trees of Deodars,

Was it a habit? I wonder,

Or at least some of it was love.

Sunsets inspired hope for tomorrow

And what joy were our walks through the meadows,

One look at the wounded sky, the barren meadows, and

In that very moment, I knew.

You and me

Had years of laughter,

The echo of which haunts me in long winter nights,

As the crackling of embers tries to fill the emptiness of life.

In that very moment, I knew

You and me,

Were once meant to be,

But alas, that lifetime has passed,

And it’s you or me.

The Red Door on The Left

Pic Credit: Google Images

The elevator door opened with a whoosh sound quite similar to the steam engines of the olden days. A petite but feisty receptionist sat behind her high desk, her head buried in her phone. ‘Hello’, I said, ‘I am here to meet Dr. Arun Mathur’. She looked at me, her eyes clearly judging as she politely – only because her job required her to be – said, ‘please go straight, at the end of the corridor to your left is Dr. Arun’s room’. I nodded with a feeble smile, an attempt to be friendly but she had already gotten back to her phone.

I stood in front of the door on my left, staring at the color, palpably surprised wondering if a shrink is even allowed to use such a jarring color? Red! It was a red color door. The enamel shone as if it was polished just yesterday. Red! Red door!! My brain screamed, he can be no good, which doctor uses red color for the door? It clearly is the sign of danger, I told myself. It was my first visit to a shrink, yes, 34 years and never visited a shrink! Let it sink…slowly…yes…never visited.

But now as I stood outside the door I started to think that I should just turn around and leave, saving my own record from breaking in the process. I spun around to make a beeline for the exit door, ‘I believe you have come for me, Bani’, said a comforting voice. I closed my eyes, sighed feeling caught as I thought, ‘that feisty one did not have time to return smile but she had time to inform the doc of my arrival. All right then’, I turned back and smiled at the doc. Not very tall in blue jeans and a white shirt he stepped sideways holding that red door open for me to walk in. His room was small, plain beige color walls and a huge rectangular colorful painting of horses hung on the wall across the cushiony wing chair he gestured me to sit on. He sat on the twin chair facing me, his eyes small and beady but he smiled in a comforting way.

‘So tell me about…’

‘You don’t have a couch…what if your patient wants to lie down while sharing his or her life troubles…huh?’ I interrupted.

He smiled at me in strange way, I could not tell if he was mocking me or was he generally amused.

‘You watch a lot of American TV. I assume it’s safe to make this conjecture as else you would have never missed the couch.’

Yeah, he’s mocking me, I thought but kept it to myself.

‘So why don’t you tell me about yourself, Bani.’

‘Well, I don’t where to start?’ I mumbled uncomfortably.

‘How about you start with your childhood?’

‘I had a happy childhood’, I snapped.

‘I am sure. What I meant was to tell me about your school and we can move upwards’, he said with a smile that unsettled me.

‘I went to St. Mary’s and it was mostly good. I had a big joint family’, I paused and then quickly added, ‘a big happy joint family’. He looked at me quietly but his eyes said that he knew why I was here, I realized me emphasizing on ‘happy’ had given it away. He was good and this troubled me even more. I had come to visit him because I had somewhere known that I needed help. But it was equally true that there was a part of me which strongly and badly held on to my resentments. I was so deeply accustomed to those resentments and to the illusion of comfort they provided from time to time that I knew it will not be easy. ‘Damn! I should have turned away from the door quicker’, I thought.

‘Tell me more about your family then’, he said patiently. I looked at him for a few moments and then effortlessly shifted my gaze to the painting behind him. The horses were running, going where, I did not know. But they looked happy, looked like they had a purpose, a destination to reach. I on the other hand lacked all of it. Though I had job, obviously a well-paying one and it’ll be appropriate to mention that the calm doctor will expect crisp five Rs. 500 notes from me after this session.

He waited patiently as I continued to look at the painting. They were so colorful, free from worry, calm in an inexplicable way. ‘I want to be happy just like those horses are’, I blurted instantly realizing what a stupid thing to say. ‘I know it is was a dumb thing to say’, I began.

‘Oh no…not at all’, he said with a small understanding smile, calmness in his eyes for the first time did not unsettle me. ‘We all want to be happy but happiness comes with a price and not all are willing to pay that price’, he added. I stared at him confused, ‘price for happiness?’ I wondered and again blurted, ‘should you not be telling me that happiness is within us all, I should find happiness in small things in life and all such jazz for you are a shrink, right?’ I sighed and my eyes closed on their own in embarrassment. I did not know what was it, was it his composed demeanor that elicited these truthful thoughts or the equanimity of the room that pushed the words out of my mouth.

But he smiled, this time a bigger and more humanly smile and for a moment I felt that he is a homo-sapien too and not a ‘shrink’ – if you catch my drift.

‘But you already know these things, now, don’t you?’, he said. I decided to stay quiet and he took my silence for my assent and continued, ‘now let’s talk about the price of happiness.’ I could just nod. ‘We with every passing day learn new things, things about others, things about the world, things we feel will make us happy – but they never do. The first instalment of the price you need to pay is to ‘unlearn’ all those things you have learnt and held dear.’ I unabashedly stared at him and he didn’t seem surprised as he continued, ‘we need to learn about ourselves first, who is that person who wakes up every day and goes to a high-paying job and can buy whatever she wants but still feels the need to be happy. She doesn’t need material things anymore. They stopped making her happy long back. Maybe they never made her happy in the first place, they just distracted her from seeing within her, stopped her from learning about herself.’ The room suddenly fell silent and my stomach growled, I looked at him awkwardly but couldn’t tell if he heard the growl. Something churned inside my stomach and I was certain that if not the earlier one he will definitely hear this growl but that’s when his buzzer rang.

One hour was up! He cuffed the head of his buzzer and it went quiet and I sprang to my feet, kept his fees on the table and scurried toward the door.

‘Bani, next week same time?’ he asked.

‘Ha…such confidence. He really thinks I am coming back to listen about the price of happiness’, I thought.

‘Bani?’ His voice broke my thought.

‘Sure doctor, next week same time works for me’, I said and an involuntary but assured smile appeared on my face. I was just as surprised as you are as I walked out of the red door.   

Ahhh…hh…yesss…ohh!

The post-it read, ’I can and I will’. The cubicle wall that had the post-it pinned with a rusted pin had a desk that ran through the bullpen. A small chair with wheels which served no purpose and the black worn-out upholstery was neatly set by the desk. An urbane looking ‘Michael Kors’ was set leaning against the cubicle wall. A closer and definitely a trained eye could tell that stiches around the zipper were unskilled. The urbane looking bag was anything but a ‘Michael Kors’. Though the same could not be said for the phone, it was a one hundred percent ‘Apple’. Almost feeling superior about its authenticity, it beeped. ‘1 Notification from Lovestruck’ glowed the screen. Ever so curious or as some preferred ‘nosy’ Kate picked up the phone, grinning as she looked at the beating heart icon on the screen. “And what do you think you are doing, Kavita?” came the voice. With a calmness that comes with years of snooping Kate turned, smiled, “it’s Kate, Athiya”. Athiya nodded, “nevertheless, what are you with my phone and why are you at my desk?” She extended her hand as Kate reluctantly giving her phone said, “nothing, I was just passing by and your phone beeped. Thought I’ll come and find you.” Athiya nodded with a perfunctory smile, “thank you.” Kate utterly disappointed in herself left. Athiya took her chair as she stared at the phone, her thumb hovering over the screen as she decided what to do.

“What are you waiting for? Open it and check already, Athiya”, said Samira as she climbed on the desk next to Athiya. “I am not sure yaar…you know I am…I mean…” fumbled Athiya. “You mean you have been going on dates with Amit and you think he’s the real deal?” “Don’t be a smartass, Samira”, Athiya rolled her eyes as Samira shrugged with a great innocence. For the coming few moments both sat silently at Athiya’s desk, Athiya kept staring at the notification from Lovestruck and Samira patiently waited like a good friend. The silence got deeper and the tension intensified just as it would have been in the control room of ISRO right before the launch of ‘Chandrayaan 2’. Athiya sighed deeply and took a big step. She deleted the Lovestruck App from her phone. Samira jumped off the desk, agape, “w…what the fuck? Are you serious?” Athiya looked at her only friend in office, “yes, I am very serious. I am serious with Amit and he is serious too. So, I figured that I don’t need this App anymore” she shrugged making it sound simple and obvious.

“But it has only been two months Athiya and there are so many of them out there. Meet more of them, maybe you find someone better…you know, better than Amit”, said Samira with her hands stretched almost in a plea. “I don’t like doing it and you know that” Athiya said, “and anyways I like Amit, he is nice, kind, he reads too, mostly cheap fiction but who cares, atleast he likes to read”, shrugged Athiya. “If you say so”, said Samira with no attempt of veiling her disapproval and disappointment. Athiya swiveled her chair to face Samira, crossing her legs with a grin said, “I am meeting Amit for dinner tonight”, Samira showed no interest, “and he’s taking me to his flat later”. Samira’s disappointment vanished, brows raised, “so you mean…as in…”, “yes, you got it right Samira, tonight is the night”, said Athiya. Samira jumped like an over excited labradoodle while Athiya laughed away.

The plunging neckline of the black dress and the ‘do me’ heels were not Athiya’s style but during the day Samira had made a valid point – “your style won’t get you a place at langer let alone a man”, and Athiya agreed. Though she didn’t like Samira rubbing her face in when she commented, “and langer is free meal, they don’t stop anyone there but trust me, even they won’t let you in”.

“Welcome”, Amit said as unlocked the door to his apartment and ushered Athiya in with a smile. The place was quaint, clean and organized. That’s definitely a good sign thought Athiya quickly referring to an article from the last month’s issue of ‘The Cosmopolitan’ in her mind. “Would like some wine, Athiya?”

“White”, she said, “red would do too in case you don’t have white”, she quickly added, she didn’t want to come across uptight. “Ofcourse, I have white wine. Shame on me if by now I don’t know your taste”, he gave a warm and boyish smile that made Athiya’s heart skip a beat. Amit popped open a bottle of posh white wine, “he is all out to impress me”, thought Athiya with a sense of pride and relief. It wasn’t just she who was serious about whatever they had but he too wanted it. They hadn’t talked much since they came in and as Amit handed her the first glass of wine, his hand brushed against Athiya’s fingers. It was intentional or completely innocent can’t be said but it produced the desired result. The deep, inevitable and – in their case –clearly unsated carnal desire came rushing to the surface. Somewhere between devouring of lips and tearing of clothes wine and the formalities were completely forgotten. As Amit lifted her naked body in his arms Athiya’s heart sank in deep relief, everything was just as she had hoped for. The bed was soft and the pillow fluffed, a simple night-lamp at the bedside table and freshly replenished tissue box. It was just perfect. She looked straight into Amit’s eyes and gave him a deep long wet kiss. Amit responded to the perfection, slowly and gently making place between her legs, effortlessly placing himself in between. Athiya closed her eyes, smile lingering on her lips, breath getting heavier. She sensuously arched her back making her ample breasts rise in an inviting manner and longingly looked at Amit. He gave her a compassionate smile and moved his hips but what came next left Athiya baffled. His face contorted, his breath came in quick successions as the passionate sounds, ‘Ahhh…hh…yess…oo…ohh’ escaped his mouth and he fell limply on Athiya. She lied there silently for the moments to come thinking awkwardly about what had just happened. Amit slowly lifted himself up and looked at Athiya who still lay under him, “did you just…I mean…did you” she asked, unable to finish her sentence. Amit looked away, it was hard to tell if it was awkwardness or shame as Athiya continued to lie there quietly. “I’ll just go and clean myself”, said Amit and dashed towards the washroom. Athiya sat up on the bed, blank, awkward and speechless. She heard the shower running and then miserably pulled out the tissues from the box she had just moments before admired and cleaned herself.

“Siri, download Lovestruck”, she instructed her phone and left while the shower still ran.

Just Believe!

Just believe and the Universe will find a way to reach to you in the most unexpected way.

The truth is that we are never alone and having said that, I don’t mean other humans around us. I mean, ‘the spirit guides’, ‘the guiding angels’, ‘our higher self’, ‘God’ or whatever you would like to call them, maybe a loved one who has passed on to the other side – like my mom.

But we are never alone!

We are always surrounded by these amazing beings, eager to help us and guide us through. And today, I would like to share two of my such experiences with you all.

Some three years back I came across ‘The Secret’, courtesy a loving friend and began my journey of ‘Law of Attraction’. At that time, as I believe would be the case with a lot of you, it was for material gains. I was at such a point in my life where everything seemed stagnant, be it professional, personal or health. And with LOA I felt that I have finally found my magic wand…one swish and everything will get better…no…everything will be straight out of a fairy tale. Ahh! Sounds familiar…isn’t it?

Well like any good writer should do I did my research, Google and Youtube! With time, I became a regular practitioner, I manifested things, sometimes small sometimes big and I was happy. Soon, I realized that I was eager to manifest all the material things because I wanted to be happy. Something which we all wish for and something which we all have already. Being happy is our ‘original state’, it is our ‘core’, our soul is inherently happy. Material gains is just a garb and I was ready to shed it (now by that I don’t mean that I quit my job or something…I do have my bills to pay).  I simply stopped chasing it and trust me I have never felt more abundant in my life. I don’t know what happened but I could feel that I have come closer to my higher-self and felt my spirit guides steering me through life.

One of my first experience was amazingly beautiful and surprising. I decided to order White Sage from Amazon, checked a couple of options and placed the order. Now, I always thoroughly check my order –  the price, the quantity, the seller name, ratings etc…etc.  So, it is very difficult for me to miss out any detail. I did it like always and placed the order. Some four days later the order arrived…I was busy with work so didn’t open it for another couple of days. Finally, when I opened the parcel and took out the Sage stick, I saw there was something else in package. I was surprised as I had ordered only one Sage stick. I opened it with my obvious skepticism and there it was…a beautiful shining raw and huge piece of black tourmaline crystal! It blew my mind away…I was jumping up and down for ten freaking minutes.

Now, you’ll wonder why?

Well simply because I had been looking for crystals, reading about them, trying to understand them better and even took a test which would let me know which crystal I should go for. Black tourmaline was one of them but for some logical reason I wanted to buy Angelite first. But the Universe knew better and sent me Black tourmaline. I never ordered it and despite my keen attention while placing the order, I never saw that fine print which said ‘Black Tourmaline, 100 grams free’. It was a free gift with my purchase of Sage stick. Amazing, isn’t it?!

The Universe always knows and sends you what you need no matter how much you feel otherwise.

My second experience was also around crystals as this is my current craze J.  One Sunday afternoon I decided to buy myself a Rose Quartz, I am new to this whole crystal thing but I had seen a shop at the market place which I frequented. I went to the shop and asked for it…the nice guy there like a good businessman lined up all the Rose Quartz available at his shop for me. I looked at them all, they were all beautiful but in the midst, was a beautiful Rose Quartz that called out to me, it felt as if it was smiling at me and I scooped it up without any delay.  It was a big piece and I was expecting it to be if not much atleast moderately expensive. But it wasn’t, in fact it was quite inexpensive given the size of it and with that skepticism creeped in again.

Though I bought it, I kept wondering if the stone was real, if it’s some scam, if I was fooled and so on. With all these questions, I walked to the main street, hailed a Rickshaw and got in. Doubts were clouding my mind and I was starting to feel unsure about the purchase when I pulled out my phone to call my kid brother and my phone clock showed enormous 3:33 in the middle of the screen. You guys felt something too?! Well I did!

I was joyous, I knew that it is a sign, 3:33 is a synchronicity, a message that ‘our ascended masters, our guides are with us and assisting us in whatever we are doing’ so it was simple and clear to me – that crystal belonged to me!

These incidents happened sometime back but it was yesterday, when I was sitting at Iskcon Temple that I felt the urge to share them. Hence, the new post on my very neglected blog. 

The Spiritual Bug

Well, we all agree that spirituality is vast as a concept and varies from human to human. Some might agree that it is a transcendental experience while for some it is sacred. For some it could be simply feeling alive and some could put it as a deep sense of interconnectedness with something deep within.

To me it was a bug or an itch!

 

Yes, you read it correct. A bug or an itch. It all started somewhere around twenty years back when my Mousi (maternal aunt) started her spiritual journey with Osho. In fact, she is the one who introduced to me to this very word ‘spirituality’. My parents are lovely people but they are simple and plain religious people, not the fanatic type but the regularly praying type and observing a few fasts during the year. Now, I am not saying that religious people cannot be spiritual because trust me, I am both. But it was different for my parents – praying and god fearing, they were. And to them spirituality was something that had something to do with monks, sanyasi (hermit), vairagi (recluse) etc. However, I was exposed to it as my maternal aunt continued her journey and I started picking up on what spirituality meant, what it felt, what it was all about.
Obviously, Osho was my first and only point of reference in the initial years. But soon I realized that spirituality is a calling and not a family heirloom that can be passed down the generations. So, what did wonders for my maternal aunt stopped working for me after some time. And by saying this, I don’t want to hurt any sentiments, but this is what I felt. I listened to Osho discourses regularly and I would proudly say that his words amazed me, they challenged my mind, his words motivated me to challenge and question the norms and patterns of society. But I failed to feel anything in my heart. And since that spiritual bug kept tingling me from the inside, soon I found myself bouncing around, finding my path to spirituality, trying different things, different paths, different people.

 

And after years of journey, I still cannot say that I have found the right formula or something. But I am in a way better place and much more in touch with myself than ever before. I have become ‘khichadi’ (an Indian staple dish where rice, lentils and veggies are cooked all together). I have found a perfect concoction for myself. I meditate daily, my love for and believe in my Shivji (Lord Shiv, one of the principle deities of Hinduism) is unshakable. And I believe that I am not a human being but a spiritual being. I am part of the bigger picture, I am part of the supreme power (some call it God, some call it universe or mother nature) and one day I will immerse in that supreme power.I will be one with my Shiv ji!!
In the end, all I can say is that we all need to find our perfect concoction because spirituality is not just a practice or just a lifestyle or some habit that you cultivate but it is a discovery. It is a seed that is born the day we are born, it is within us, waiting to blossom, to give us that overwhelming, powerful, blissful and beautiful experience that we were born to live.