And so the shore waits for his beloved wave...

Rushes she into his patient loving arms
Moment of life she has been waiting for
Countless trials she faced to meet him
No force now dare stand in her eager way
Lying hidden beneath this lashing rage
Are innocent feelings from time unknown
Calming silence is all that he may offer her
Though much would he have liked to say
Holding hands atlast their loving eyes meet
Yet she must depart at that very instant
Adorned in agony is this gaze of separation
In a fleeting second they live a lifetime
Undying promise of returning she makes
And so the shore waits for his beloved wave

Blemish you think but tears are these....

So hurt am I that your glory is lost
Never wanted this to happen to you
Blemish on this beautiful cherubic face
And I wish this misfortune go away
Elegance and dignity return to you
Yet there is nothing more I can do
Everything he heard that I had to say
Then replied the charming silver moon
With the radiance of calm in a storm
She lies in darkness so I may shine
With a twinkle in her dreamy eyes
No words can describe my feelings
Blemish you think but tears are these
Flowing with the force of my true love

Their tale of love....

Unspoken feelings they shared all their life
Every evening she waited with an intent gaze
His presence on the horizon stirred her nerve
And she would sway to his charm and grace
Falling from the sky she settles down earthily
Golden little girl of that timeless old maple
Never once he expressed his deepest emotion
He swirls now to touch her blissful serene face
And she moves gently to kiss him one last time
So the wind says goodbye to his sweetheart
Standing still he watches her atlast in peace
Death stands witness to their eternal bond
In this quiet depth of winter's beautiful love
Lies hidden the leaf of passion and grief

Behold the flames of love...

Behold the flames of love that cause the heart to burn
Rising high to bid adieu to the forgotten years
Like the restless toddler making many a turn
Warming every intense gaze fixed on this circle of charm

Behold the flames of love that spread far and wide
Casting the soul in a mystique trance of passion
Whose sparks of divine energy and resolve unable to hide
Like the pilgrim's radiance at the start of the journey

Behold the flames of love engulfing every glimpse of gloom
Like the morning rays hide every inch of darkness
Whose fiery unyielding spirit promises a rebellious bloom
Of hope and happiness after a sorrowful day

Behold the flames of love basking in the inner glow
Am bereft of words to describe the emotion
Whose tip is forcefully fast but trail is surprising slow
Breathing the most mysterious cosmic sound in this silence

Behold the flames of love swaying to a melodious song
Never heard until this moment's twilight
Making each tearful hour seem only a minute long
Whose searing heat will cool today even a broken heart's fury

Behold the flames of love conjuring up a delightful face
More brilliant and beautiful then ever before
Whose warmth permeates elegance and grace
Even shadows stand still to honor this majestic reflection

Behold the flames of love though kindled by utmost grief
Coming of the piercing separation from a beloved
Yet whose golden purity continues to forge a sincere belief
That the hour of separation shall not be long

Now I know my dream....

Outside the library. I am sitting under a tree. It is a beautiful day. The sky is clear. Not a trace of cloud. The birds are flying. There is a squirrel on the thickest branch. My eyes watch it closely. And then as if on a cue, it jumps down onto the lush green grass. And hops around gleefully. The bushy tail waves. And the squirrel looks away from me. The squirrel has spotted something. And its subconscious tells it that something lies beyond. It see a nut. It picks it up. Both hands around it tightly. A sudden twitch and it jumps. And it is back onto the tree. I trace it all the way to the tree. And then, I look again towards the same place from where the squirrel gathered the nut. I do not believe it. I roll my eyes. No. It cannot be. It is only an illusion. No. It cannot be. But. I look around. I see cars go by. An elderly couple slowly walk by. A middle aged woman pleasantly continues to jog. And yet, none of them seem to notice. This strange sight. This strangest of sights that my eyes behold. There they are....

Three of them standing right in front of me. All of them smiling at me. All three women wearing white gossamer. The sun rays splitting wide behind them. It seemed as if they were the source of that dazzling light themselves. I keep asking myself. Is this real? Are they really there? And as if she is fully aware of the intense anxiety inside me, the lady in the center beckons me. She looks at the others. And then at me. She raises her hand. As if asking me to come with them. And that she wants to tell me something. More like show me something. I sense it too. I ask her if this is real. She says nothing. She simply smiles. The others smile as well. I get up. I do not bother to shake up the leaves clinging to my back. I am mesmerized. I walk upto them. I go upto them. They are more beautiful than I have ever seen anyone. Their is a certain inexplicable radiance on their brow. They emanate a glow of happiness and serenity. I can feel it in me. The lady in the middle stretches out her hand to me. I give out mine. And our fingers touch. Her fingers are slender. And her skin is tender. I hold her hand. The lady looks to the lady on her right. And then to the one on the left. And then back to me. And then everything turns misty. And then there is darkness. I feel my insides chill. I hold onto the hand tightly. I do not know what is going on. I close my eyes. I am scared. And then there is light.....

I open my eyes. I am on a hill. I see the three ladies in front of me. The look on their face is still the same. One of calm and assurance. I on the other hand am in a state of stunned silence. I do not know where I am. I do not know who are these people in front of me. I do not know how far I am from home. And I do not know how I have come here. Yet, the curious mind tells me to stay on. There is something here that I need to know. I have to know. I look around. There is emptiness. And I move to the edge of the hill. I can clearly see the vastness ahead of me. There is the sea below. And yet its vastness means nothing. Its depth does not scare me now. The wind is blowing gently. The blue waters glisten beautifully due to the splash of the orange rays of the sun. Underneath, the corals wave as if swaying to some cosmic tune. I stand on there at the edge. The wind comes and kisses my face. And it moves behind my ears. Asking me to listen. Listen to the wind. Listen to the waves. Listen to the rays. My heart is calm now. The incoming waves of the sea, the gentleness of the breeze and the resplendance of the sun rays have now become one with me. And I am calm. I turn around. I now look at the three of them with more confidence and strength....

I ask. Who are you? What are your names? Where am I? And why did you come to me? They seem to not hear me. There is an awkward pause. The air between us is pregnant with silence. I know. And then. The lady on the left speaks. "We are three sisters. We live here on the hill. We were sent to see you. And we are happy that you agreed to come with us." I turn to the lady on the right. She spoke. "We visit everyone. Not early. Not late. At the precise moment." I turned to the lady in the middle. The one whose hand I held onto on the way. She sighed. And then she spoke. "Each one of us will ask you a question. You must answer our questions. And if we are pleased with your answers, then you may ask us any one question. We know the answers to all questions. We know the past, the present and the future. Anything that you wish you may ask. Do you accept?" I am mildly surprised. But I agree. Who are these three women? And what would be their questions?

So, the lady on the left steps forward. "One drop of it drives away darkness. What is it? Answer me." I look down. I turn. I close my eyes. And memories swim through my eyes. My childhood. My family. My friends. Everything that has happened to me so far. I see myself with my family. I see myself among my friends. I cherish all those moments. I ask myself why? I know. Because I am happy. Yes. Because I am happy. I open my eyes. I speak. "One drop of joy drives away all the darkness in the world." The lady smiles. I think she likes my answer. She does not say anything. The lady on the right steps forward. "It is all around you. And yet you struggle to find it. What is it? Answer me." I am perplexed. What can it be? What is it that is all around me. And yet I struggle to find it. Something that I do not understand. Something whose presence I can feel and yet I cannot see. Various thoughts race through my mind. What does the human spirit strive for? Why does it struggle? And what happens to it when it fails? Does it stop? Does it give up? Does it yield to all the obstacles in its way? No. The human spirit does not yield. An unconquered will. A fierce determination. A relentless effort even in the midst of gloom and despair. Why? What drives it in the face of insurmountable opposition? I look at the lady who asked me the question. And I reply. "Hope. She is all around me. She is always there. And yet, I struggle to find her. But my struggle ends when I find her." I knew that I was right. My heart was beating fast now. One more question. What could it be? And my gaze moves towards the lady in the center. She towers over the others. And she speaks in a charming way. "Presence causes pain. Absence causes pain. And yet on its own relieves pain. What is it? Answer this decisively." I am struck. I do not know. How can anything cause pain in both its presence and absence. And more astonishingly, how can the thing that causes pain relieve it as well? I have no clue. I look at the three of them. I look down. I look at the horizon. The stars have started twinkling now. The waters of the sea are now beaming with a thousand little eyes. I look at my hands. I look at my feet. Looking for the answer. I look at myself. What has life taught me so far? What is it that I have? What is it that makes me happy? What is it that makes me hopeful? What is it that makes me wait for the rest of my life? What is it that stirs me? What is it that pains me? Those memories. Filled with tears and sadness. Poignant. Stirring. And yet, those memories bring a bloom of hope and joy in my heart. I wipe the tears in my eyes. I speak. "Love. It is the one thing that when present causes pain. It is one thing that when absent causes pain. And it is the only thing that can relieve the pain that it causes." The three ladies smile. And I know that they are pleased. The lady in the center speaks. "Ask your question. And you shall have the answer." I already knew in my heart what I wanted to ask. I ask. "Every night I have a dream. The same dream. Tell me what does it mean?" The lady in the center came forward. And whispered into my ears. And I knew it. I had my answer. I understood my dream atlast. I look around. And the three women have disappeared....

Outside the library. I am sitting under a tree. The squirrel is playing gleefully. I get up. And start walking towards my house. I dont know who they were. But atleast now I know my dream...

Chronicles of the red shirt in the wardrobe...

Another Sunday evening. Another lacklustre day. Finally, I decide to tidy up my place. Takes me a couple of hours. Books on the coffee table. Clothes in the wardrobe. Bedding neatly folded and put aside. I am done. I sit down to pen my thoughts. I dont know what to write. I look around. Nothing interesting. Feeling a little sleepy. I close my eyes. Various thoughts swing in and out.
Scenes move in and out. A documentary of sorts. Amazing. I am right in it. All the action is happening around me. And I am seeing it from the outside as well. As if I am watching some black and white movie of yesteryears. There. I freeze the frame. This scene. The one right in front of my eyes. Many years back. I open my eyes. And the scenes still flash upon me...

I am walking with three others to the college. The rest are talking. My thoughts lie elsewhere. We pass Gurukripa. And I already see lots of students waiting outside. Alyosha would tell me that he makes it a point to have one plate of samosa-choley everyday. The samosa. The choley. The onions and the chutney. Not now I say. I move on. Today is a very important day. It is the "tie and saree day" in the college. A day that means a lot to some. The boys are to come in formal attire. Tie being the speciality. And girls would come in the "saree" (the most widely used attire by Indian women). Whether it is the saree that increases the splendor and beauty of an Indian woman or vice versa is certainly debatable. I am a bit nervous. I am wearing a red shirt with full sleeves. And a tie that I borrowed from my neighbor. My mother kept telling me that it was a "matching tie". Impressive I said to myself. I had been hearing a lot of people in my class discuss this day weeks in advance. It was a grand day they felt. They had been discussing their attire, their arrival time, places around the college where they would take pictures of themselves with "interesting" people and ofcourse where they would go to eat later in the day. Nothing short of a carnival. The digital camera was a new found luxury among middle class folks in Mumbai at that point. There was this one guy (NRI for this blog) who had one. Several of my classmates had spent a considerable time trying to convince him how important it would be to bring this gizmo. And finally after a lot of coaxing, NRI agreed to get it. Thats that. And so now I am about to move inside this quadrangular arena. Straight out of the Gladiator movie. The only difference being there are no wild beasts and warriors of great skill in here. Only a bunch of students ready to make the most of the day...

So I enter the building. All around me I see girls in fascinating sarees. Not to mention the jewellery that many of them have decided to sport today. I am certain most of them have spent several hours in the beauty parlors. And spent hundreds of rupees so that they can put forward their best "outward" appearance today. Harry comes by and tell me that all lectures have been suspended. It was pretty obvious to me that none of these girls were interested in classes today. And I guessed that the professors had already felt the same. Harry is his usual self. Chatty. And trying to engage in a conversation with every "nicely dressed" girl. I see NRI come by. He shows me his digital camera. And he keeps showing me the cool features. I am really not interested. I tell him that he better take photos instead of describing the camera. I admit to myself. I am curious to see all the faces in my class today. Especially away from their regular college attire. And I see Silver come by. He only shakes hands with folks who come from a "IIT parentage". Everyone else is scum according to him. He is smart but arrogant. I move on. I see a group of people sitting in the middle of the class. Mostly referred to as "Super 6ers". Well, I am not a great fan of theirs. But nevermind. I go and say a hello. NRI comes around and shows me some of the snaps he has already taken. Almost all of them of girls with heavy makeup and embroidered sarees. And he sees me sulking. So he takes a couple of my pictures. I say thank you. I guess he thinks this will cheer me up. Harry comes by and asks that his picture be taken in such a way that lots of girls form the background. I cannot hide my laughter. NRI obliges. The Super 6ers are doing their regular stuff. Singing some Tamil songs. Totally incomprehensible to me. I accept it as a harsh reality. I say to myself. You are studying in a South Indian college full of South Indians. What else do you expect? Move on. Well they are singing. Banging the desks. This guy Priam is at the centre with another girl Softy. Both are singing so loudly that some of the Marathi folks from Dombivali decide to go out. Had it been lavani I am sure they would have stayed back. Arab, Carrot and Collar decide to leave the class. And then I see Carnatic come by. He is a buddy. Talks too much. Alyosha dont like him. I dont mind. He and some other discuss the latest in EPL. I have convinced myself that this is nothing but a sense of superficiality introduced to appear hiphop. "Oh, see I am cool. I prefer soccer over cricket" kind of thing since cricket seems more hackneyed to them. I dont pay attention. This group had Carnatic, Rag and King. The Super 6ers had grown more vociferous after they were joined by CasanovaSwami and Chembur's Govinda. CasanovaSwami is moving in and out. Singing. And then flirting with some girls. Suddenly, I see three familiar guys come by. They are not at ease too right now. This setting seems alien. They come and join our "nerdy" lot. GodFood and Comet are here. And they are joined by Raol. Comet is at it again. Takes out his book and tells me that Prof. NoSorrow has asked him to solve some 290 probability problems. Alyosha thinks this guy is a "once in a lifetime madcap". NRI suddenly joins him in solving some. After that I see that the class has agreed to take group photographs. I join them. Lots and lots of photographs. We all go down in the quadrangular and take more group photographs. Harry and CasanovaSwami are enjoying. I confess. I will cherish one photograph forever. We all come back to the class. I ask NRI to take one photograph of some of the girls sitting in the corner. A motley group. I smile. One importance of this day is that folks get to give roses to whoever they like. Rest assured, I have not got any nor have I given anyone today. Not because I do not want to. But because today of all days, I feel the rose does not have the ability to carry the emotion and message intended by the giver. Dont know why. Its late afternoon. I and NRI move to Gurukripa. Everyone has moved on. All had made plans for some sort of a party and hangout. I have no plans. NRI keeps showing me the photos. I ask him to mail some of them to me. And there I see my good friend Alyosha having his samosa choley with some others. I go and say a hi. We recount some of the day's happenings since both of us are in different classes. He recounts all the "glamorous happenings" of the day. Both of us have a laugh. Comet comes by. And most of us agree that since we have no party or hangout to go to, we better catch the train and go back home. Comet is desperate to complete his 290 task. And so we start walking. We are joined by Carnatic and his buddies as well. Fifteen minutes walk and we reach the station. I catch the Thane local...

Great scenes. I still recollect them vividly. NRI would later mail me the photographs. I dont have them today. I have left out some other details from this. I leave them for some other day. Right now, I cannot stop laughing and reminiscing. Those guys and gals. Their excitement. Their frolic. I dont know where all of them are today. Of some I know. Of others I dont. I dont know what all of them are doing today. What career path they have chosen. But I am here today. I walk across to the wardrobe. Look at that shirt. That very shirt. The red shirt with full sleeves. Other than the memories, it is the only part of that day that still remains with me. I shake my head and put the shirt back in the wardrobe....

They make me laugh...

They make me laugh. I love them since my days as a toddler. They have been part of my life ever since. And I like them for one reason only. They are funny. Alone they are good. Together they are great. Dont know if there exists any other relationship like theirs. Dynamic. Rib tickling. Fascinating. Rarely does a day go by when I dont like to see them. No moment remains dull. No moment remains gloomy when they are around. To say they are my favorite is an understatement. They are more like friends. I remember Mom telling me that when I was a kid, I spent hours in front of the television watching them. Every act was funny. Every act was refreshing. I like both of them. The big guy has his "never say die" attitude. He always keep going. His big ears. His cheeks. And ofcourse his whiskers. His appearance itself brings out a laugh. And when he raises his eyebrows in deep thought, I wonder if he can think beyond the little guy. Indeed, he has a nice girl friend. And his road side friends. And once in a while, he does participate in a nice feline gathering. I like the little guy for his "can take him on" attitude. No matter what the odds. No matter what the obstacles. Whatever the big guy throws at him, he would be upto it, if not better it. He can wriggle his way out of almost every situation. Everytime they trade jabs, I laugh. It is not about their fights. It is all about their quick wit. It is all about their creativity. It is all about their constantness. It is about their camarederie. You must have guessed by now. Yes. I am talking about them. The cat and the mouse....

Tom and Jerry. Isnt it fascinating? They hate each other. Cant stand the sight of each other. Throw everything possible at each other. And with every act, they make me laugh. Make me forget all worries and sorrows for those brief moments. Some find great meaning in their metaphor. The little guy always wins. Their tale has some universality in it. The world is divided into two sections. The winners and losers. The gifted and the less talented. The rich and the poor. The lucky ones and the unlucky ones. And therein the victory of the mouse brings some cheer and hope for the second lot. But I feel there is something else about them that draws me to them. One without the other is not even half of his brilliance. I dont know if it is possible for anyone to think of one and not the other. As diverse as they are, they complement each other. They complete each other. I already owe them for giving me so much cheer. But if I could ask them to give me one more thing, then I would ask for their spirit and freedom. Tom and Jerry forever...

What does a question answer??

It is a nice Sunday morning. I wake up later than usual. The fact that the clocks adjusted for daylight savings didnt make matters any simpler. My mom calls on me. And I have to listen to the usual story. That I havent had a haircut since six months. That I havent been paying attention to tidying things up at my place. That I havent called some distant aunt of mine since I dont remember when. That I look more skinny than the last time she saw me in a fifteen inch screen. Thats that. After a late start, I go out for lunch. Few hours later, I am back. I discuss with Alyosha plans for the holiday season. Both of us seem to cant wait for the holiday season to begin. I sit to write today's piece. And I dont know what to. Has been an uneventful day so far. Thinking what to write. My head turns around scanning the entire room. And then it settles back on to the keyboard. As I am about to type the first character of a piece of which I have no idea, I am distracted by all the signs and symbols on it....

Of all the signs and symbols, the ? I find the most appealing. It asks me a question. What would I do without it? It is not funny. It is not jubilant. But it is revealing. Over the last year or so, I have asked many questions. I think more than I have asked in all the years before them. Not sure why this change. May be the environment has affected me. May be the workplace has affected me. May be my loneliness has affected me. May be something else has affected me. I dont know. Going back to the earlier point. The question that ? asks me. What does a question answer?? Yes. What does a question answer?? No question is right or wrong. Every question may have an answer. May not have any answer. That does not take out the need for the question. Sometimes the question clouds one's thinking. Sometimes the question illuminates the space over the subject. Some like questions. Some do not. Some like the intention of the question itself. Some do not. Some like the timing of the question. Some do not. Some like the reasons behind the question. Some do not. In general, I think that people do not hate the ? per se. It is only their concern about the answer that makes them fret....

So, what does a question answer? It quenches the thirst for curiosity and creativity. It answers the agitated mind. It provides thrust to a cycle of thinking and acting. Hesitation in asking a question weakens the purpose of the question itself. Many things in life have been achieved simply because someone decided to ask a question. Many things in life are yet to be achieved simply because someone has not yet asked the question. I am glad that I am asking questions to myself. These questions enable me to explore hitherto unknown things about myself. Realize and understand things about me and all there is to my life. A ? may not bring finality to an issue on the outside. But it certainly does bring finality to the constant struggle about a thought within....

Walking down memory lane...

The month of October comes to peace. And I see leaves lying around the quiet side walks. The rustling sound breathes life everytime someone sets a foot on them. I walk slowly. There is a slight breeze. A little sigh. And I keep walking. The leaves now sway to the instructions of some invisible hand. They twirl. They ponder. And they glide from one end of the street to the other. Some of them are stirred. And without warning, they swirl upwards. And my intent gaze follows them. And there I see them up in the sky. From where they came. And now they go. I measure the enormous mass of light pink up above me. There is a strange glow. I observe. The sun is a beautiful red. And I am unable to figure out where the curve begins and ends. The sky is smiling as if impressed by the colors on its own canvas. My eyes cannot resist looking at the sky. The vastness of the sky only beckons me to walk down the memory lane...

It was a busy day back then. In a different country. In a different city. The railway station was at a certain level above the ground. The trains were crowded. Hundreds of people were stacked inside one compartment. One could hear every breath taken by another. Feel one's own sweat. And make no movement. Hands held on tightly to the handles. In the afternoon, these very handles sway magically just like children out from school. In the mornings, they are as taut as can be. I waited for the exact moment when the train arrived in the station. There was a big gasp. And people thronged to the exit. There was an equal force. Some wanted to get in. Some wanted to get out. I barely managed to get out. My bag was tightly bound to my left shoulder. As soon as I got out of the train, I took a moment to get some fresh air. A few seconds later, I could see fellow classmates who had just emerged from the other exits. And then, I was greeted by a pleasant banter. A few girls from my class amidst some animated discussion. One of my friends waved to a couple of the girls. And they waved back. We all walked up the bridge. And then out of the station. We just crossed the traffic lights. The short walking journey usually lasted ten to fifteen minutes. Today, it was more. My friends who were with me at that point were more at ease while talking with girls. Not me. I just listened. I always felt a certain awkardness while speaking to them. I dont know any reason. They all kept chatting with each other till we reached the college. I was about to enter the maze again I thought...

I cross the street. I see a nice young couple walk by. Hand in hand. I smile. Minutes later, a young lady comes from the opposite direction. She is doing a nice jog. Listening to her ipod. And her lovely dog struts besides her. I take a step aside. I have always been a little scared of dogs. I take a few steps. And then just sit down on the small blue bench next to the bus stop. There are a few people waiting for the bus. I am not. I am just taking a small break. I am not feeling tired. But sitting there seems a welcome notion. A lady is standing near the bus stop. She is holding a lovely baby. It is smiling at me. Then suddenly, it frowns. And now it has started crying...

So, I entered the maze. It was in the afternoon. We had a lab session on the topmost floor of the building. I had taken up the subject simply because I liked it as a kid. I was not that good in this subject. But I always knew I would make my career in that very field. We formed pairs. And we set out to do what we were asked to do. Write some program to print out the days of the week. Aaah. The guy who was my lab partner had a knack of doing things quickly. I just kept on looking as he finished the exercise assigned to us in no time. I could not offer him much support. Little would I know that a few years later, things might be completely the other way around. However, there I was staring at the blank screen in front of me. And then I heard two girls sitting next to us ask for help. My lab partner was ever eager to help out. The fact that two girls were involved here was an even greater incentive. I meanwhile just looked on. He helped them finish their work as well. Not that they needed much. And since there was a great deal of time left for the session to get over, the four of us began a small conversation. My lab partner was chirpy as usual. The two girls in frame were chattering too. I just kept wondering what I was to say. The fact that I knew much more on the topics that were being discussed than all three of them put together did not matter much. I was just mesmerized. She kept talking. For almost thirty minutes, the three of them kept talking. I was quiet. But, then I dont know what happened. All of a sudden I started speaking. Speak I did. And after that my lab partner felt quiet shut. There was only one girl and one boy doing the talking. The conversation went on from Egyptian pyramids to Monica Seles. From books we had read to our respective schools. From the languages we spoke to the food we liked in the canteen. And finally to our future careers. And we spoke. And we spoke. And we spoke. When the bell rang, I did not realize that more than an hour had gone by. My lab partner was perplexed. And he even chided me for trying to hog the limelight by talking too much. Not that I cared. It was one of the most remarkable moments of my life. I had never before that moment spoken to a girl with that kind of spirit and freedom. And I have never since then either...

The lady boarded the bus with the baby. And the bus just went by. I get up slowly. It was getting dark. And I say to myself that I better hurry home. Had to cook for dinner. And all the utensils lay there in the basin as if crying out mortally wounded. I walk up the stairs. I take out the keys from my right pocket. I turn the keys. And open the door. And then I just stand there. I turn around. I look at the sky again. The reddish glow has now given way to a silent darkness. I look forward in the northern direction. The North Star is at its place as usual. And from there it shines upon me. The twinkle of the star. And the radiance emerging from it. It reminds me of that conversation I had many years back. Both the star and the conversation are very far me now. But, I feel their warmth and affection. I smile....

Lost in translation....

Feeling lost. Yes. When something is translated from one form to another. Very rare indeed when this does not happen. And the translator deserves all the kudos. There are a few catches ofcourse. Not only must the translation be true. It must also carry the essence of the original. Can everything be translated? Or in more general terms, can everything be transformed? I dont know. But I see an annoying question mark on the reflection in the window...

I woke up late yesterday. And set out clumsily to work. Nothing out of the ordinary happened on the way. The train was on time. The station was empty as usual. Very few people use the trains after the peak hours early in the morning. I went to the upper tier. And just kept looking out of the windows hoping for some thrill. Something new. Little did I know that I was going to get a full share of it. Just after lunch. I am told that I have to be part of a new project. Something I have never done before. Something that seems challenging from the outset. I had already lost focus in the middle of the discussion. While the person opposite me was giving a brief overview, I had already ventured into another world. Dreamy. I was already visualizing how things would be. And what I was to do. I came out of the room. Went back to my desk. That daze hadnt left me then. In the evening, I spoke to my friend. And both of us agreed that some really rigorous moments lay ahead. Challenging but offering great scope for creativity. Things were so clear in my dreamy world in that room. However, back on the train station, everything was hazy. So, I took the train back home...

There are so many people in the room. Everyone speaks a different language. Everyone has a different attire. Everyone has different sensibilities. Everyone has their own agenda. But all of them have one task at hand. All of them need to coexist. Not one is greater than the other. Not one is better than the other. All are equal. And thats what is amazing. And they need to understand each other perfectly well. Moreover, all of them must act in harmony. Those outside the room must see a unified decision. And unified action. Not only must the action conform to the scruples of each, but also to that of the group in entirety. Since everyone speaks differently, what everyone hears is gibberish. "Noise" is the more apt term in the technological arena. That "noise" becomes "harmony" only when the person can completely decipher. Completely comprehend the exchange. The task that has now caught my interest involves bringing together different things. It involves translation. It involves transformation. The problem at hand is exactly like the situation in the room above. Only the people here are replaced by data. And "noise" can be transformed into "harmony" only by careful selection and mapping. One may speak Greek. The other Sanskrit. And somehow, both need to understand each other not only in the literal way, but also in the "worldly" way....

The desire is to not get lost in translation. The plan is to not stop dreaming. The goal is to establish harmony. Tall tasks. Needing big efforts. Little to lose. Much to gain. An opportunity to demonstrate that transformation is possible. A moment to watch wide angles converge. The beauty of diversity lies in watching its unity. The annoying question mark has now given way to a more optimistic smile in the reflection on the window....

Can love be perfect?

I ask. Can love be perfect? I thought about this the whole of today. And I am yet to understand. You see. The two words namely "love" and "perfect" evoke emotions which are not easy to interpret. Alone the two mean something for everyone. Together, some are yet to find meaning. I am one of them. No doubt. It is accepted that both love and perfection have various shades. Both are unique. And both are rare yet found everywhere. Both are found in varying degrees. And the perception of each and everyone is different to both of them. I ask again. Can love be perfect??

I sat lazily on my couch on a bright Sunday afternoon. The glass on the table was half empty, half full. You might wonder why I say both. And I asked this too. I was not sure what mood I was in. Thats why. The camera was lying around from two days. I uploaded some pictures taken a few days back. Not very fascinating I felt. Everything was lying around in a not so efficient way. The fact that I dont have too many visitors offers me even less an incentive to tidy up. There was the little Snoopy sitting right on top of the table. And looking intently upon me. And then the book besides the coffee table. For a moment I felt I was seeing things. But, I guess Snoopy had already read my mind. I had been reading Tolstoy's Anna Karenina for about three months now. I had already finished three fourths of it inside a week. The last part was taking the rest of the time. I admit. I read most of the book without any intensity. I took upon the book mainly because of the writer's reputation. Just for the record, this happens to be my first Tolstoy novel. For all this time, the story did not capture my attention. But today, suddenly, I was asked this question. And ever since, the rest of the day has gone into thinking about this question. Can love be perfect??

I dont know since when we as a species have been looking for love and perfection. Both are innate human desires. And it can be assumed fairly easily that the first man and woman must have shown some desire for either or both. Anthropologists and historians. I wont bother arguing with you on this if you disagree. I move on. Now. Something I find interesting is this. It is pretty difficult to discern one from the other. Give it a try. Every poet knows this. Every artist knows this. Every laborer knows this. I can easily understand why this question now seems more like the riddle: what came first ...the phoenix or the ashes? The fact that each is deeply connected with the other makes the case absolutely captivating. Can there be love without perfection? Can there be perfection without love? I know not as I write. I have had my fair share of love I think. Family. Friends. Not quite from a lady fair. But I am waiting. Can all the love that I have been blessed with so far be called perfect? Hmmm. Well, there is always that feeling that there could have been more. Could have been better. And could have been more differently expressed. Not that I am complaining. But, I guess its very much in our nature to be never satisfied. Ask the guy who just spent a whole day by the beach with his girl. And he still maintains that he hasnt had enough. Ask the child who just had a big box of chocolates. Yup. Hasnt had enough. I guess the answer is that love cannot be perfect? Well, lets not hurry to any conclusions as of now. Perfection is something we appreciate. Something we admire. Something we look forward to. Something that every human endeavor calls its goal. Can it be achieved? Has it been achieved? Well, this depends on whom you ask this. The most adorable fan of someone will easily claim that her idol has already achieved perfection. Never mind if that idol of hers doesnt agree. The most judicious of critics will easily find the most difficult of flaws in everything there is. Then is it that perfection is only relative? Same again. I do not know as I write....

Being in love is being perfect. The love of a mother for her child. The love of a father for his child. The love of a husband for his wife. The love of one friend for another. The love of a devotee for his or her God. They all are perfect. And yet they are not. As I close upon this piece, I would like to believe that love is perfect. Only because it has its own imperfections. And it gladly accepts them. Something that we find difficult to accept in ourselves. Can love be perfect? Well, nobody's perfect. And thats what makes love so special...

When the grasshoppers are making merry...

Most of us have heard that tale. The ant and the grasshopper. Simple characters. Profound meaning. Isnt it pretty easy to distinguish the ants from the grasshoppers?? I enjoy this nice game almost every other day. And somehow, the more I play this game, the less I believe the ending of that tale. So, let me first take the case of the ant. Small. Hard working. Rarely gets appreciated. The ant is there but no one pays attention. Some do get their due, especially when they bite. Others continue to toil. I guess the ant knows. Working hard is its karma. Being selfless is its dharma. Doesnt complain. Doesnt cry. Doesnt wonder about why the hardship. Next is the grasshopper. Big. Strong. Mostly lazy. Influential ofcourse. Never around but gets all the attention. When the going gets tough, the first one to go to the ant. I guess the grasshopper knows. Hardly working is its karma. Ensuring the ants are selfless is its dharma. Now, going back to the story. The grasshopper had fun when the ant was working hard under the sun. And when the snow fell, the grasshopper had nowhere to run. But the ant was a good one. Had food of which he gave the grasshopper some. Moral of the story you know. Enough poetry. Now in this age and day. The ant works hard in the sun. And the grasshopper has fun. When the snow comes, the grasshopper is still having fun. The ant takes blame for the snow. Accepts that the grasshopper owns the food. And the ant is left without food for itself because it did not pay attention to the deadlines and gather enough food...

So, the question that the ant needs to answer is this. What should the ants do when the grasshoppers are making merry. Lets see. May be the ant can start a revolution. Ask fellow ants to make enough bites so that the grasshopper realizes whos the real smart one. Some might auggest that the ants go hiding when the snow comes. Let the grasshopper look after itself. A third alternative might be for the ant to go be pals with the wasps and the crickets. Perhaps even go on a hunger strike. Peaceful protest. I will tell you what. The ant wont do anything of this sort. He will continue to work hard. Nay harder. Till it becomes glaringly obvious to the grasshopper. How hardworking the ant is. Why the ant is working. And what the grasshopper should itself do. The grasshoppers need to realize the truth on their own. No bite of the ant will produce the desired effect. When the grasshoppers are making merry. Playing the guitar. Painting the tapestry. Enjoying the sun. The question that the grasshoppers need to answer is this. What will you do when the locusts will come to get you?? The ant will go underground and remain safe. And you will be dancing to an awkard tune...

We said it is a bull, they asked us to milk it...

Communication gap. This is perhaps the worst thing that can happen to you at a workplace. Especially when the organization is big. And the problem is that such a misfortune need not involve a party with a lack of understanding. Both sides can be perfectly right with their own perspective. And yet both can fail to convey to the other side their true intentions. It is pretty interesting to analyze how such situations develop. And what is the behavior of the parties involved in it. And what are the outcomes in such situations. How does a communication gap occur? First reason that comes to mind is faulty communication technique. Second, use of non unique symbols. Another reason could be lack of commonality in the channel. Problems with syntax and semantics are obvious. Now there are more interesting issues too. What are they? Pride. Prejudice. Politics. Parochialism. I call it the 4Ps of communication gap. Let me elaborate for the sake of clarity. No pun intended here...

Pride. There is a little bit of it in every person who has some knowledge of something. And there is none of it in that person who has the wisdom of realizing that pride clouds knowledge itself. Yes. Knowledge is knowing. Wisdom is realizing. And pride has no place in a wise person. However. Pride by its mere presence makes a party see things in a completely different light. In fact, the problem is severe when pride does not let a party see things in the right way. You know it is right. But your ego wont let you accept it. And theres the first cause of the great gap. Prejudice. Once you see things in one particular light, then the thing itself is colored that way for you. You fail to see that the light is not the attribute of that object. It is merely reflecting from it. It is your gaze that falls on the object. Science and philosophy cannot converge more beautifully than this. Rigidity in thought and actions are the second cause of the great gap. In fact, it would not be too wrong to say that if pride creates a gap, then prejudice only widens it. Next is politics. Well. It is hard to find one aspect of life that does not suffer from or benefit from this scourge. The politics which allows two sides to accept some of the other side's views and opinions while disagreeing on others is the one which delivers benefits. The politics which creates a vacuum between two sides is the opening to a valley of suffering. In such a game, everyone is right. And yet no one is. Remember the story of the blind men touching the elephant and describing different parts. All were saying different things. All were right within their scope. And yet all were wrong. The politics of vacuum is exactly this. All are blinded by their intolerance and radical values. These values might be driven either by personal agenda or to maintain the status quo. This is the third cause of the great gap. And now the final cause. Parochialism. It is easier to explain this one using the previous example too. Narrowmindedness breeds indifference. You dont care about others. And all you care is about you, yourself and your thoughts and beliefs. You will always hold the opinion that the hill outside the town is bigger than the sun. If something that is said goes against your beliefs, then you will ignore it as pure fiction. And no fact will reverse your understanding. This is the fourth cause of the great gap.

Outcomes of such situations?? Two words. Dead end. Thats it. So, now going back to the title of the blog today. There was a very interesting episode at my workplace. I will neither judge the intelligence nor the personality of the parties involved. Suffice to say. We said it is a bull, they asked us to milk it...

Highly Suffocating Caravan...

Yes. Some reflections. Those days. When I was in a Highly Suffocating Caravan. Spent two years in that caravan. All sorts of personalities around me. Many smart. Too many over smart. Quite a few treacherous. A small number mysterious. Some anxious. Lots of them idiosyncratic. A lot of them hypocritical. Almost all forgettable. One of them unforgettable. Amidst this motley group, I was trying to find myself. I was completely lost. Why? Weight of pressure. Baggage of emotions from the previous year. Lack of focus. Wrong priorities. Forgetting the art of winning. And most importantly, the loss of confidence. Those two years without question have provided me with more traumatic memories than all the others put together. And frankly, I am yet to get over some of them. Some of the wounds inflicted were deep. And some of them have only started healing now...

What was so wrong about those two years? I was practically in some exile. My closest friends know the mess I was in. A quagmire that was so hidden to me then yet so evident now as I look back. Wrong company. Wrong approach. But it was the most wonderful learning curve. Many lessons that I have learnt are from those melancholy days. And I can say that I have grown from those experiences. Those two years perhaps were the dose I needed for the rest of my life. In fact, it wouldnt be wrong to attribute the attitude of today to the pain of those days. Yes. Those days were painful. I felt let down by some whom I considered close to me. Yes. I felt betrayed by some whom I considered close to me. And my innocent spirit was burnt down to the ground. And out of these ashes rose the phoenix. One well versed in the mistakes of the past. And one who knew that life was a game. And competition was the rule of the game. And the phoenix was prepared to get burnt again. And would not fear the ashes. And see it only as another opportunity to rise again. Have I gotten over those days? I think I have. More so because I know now what exactly I did wrong. Have I gotten over those people? I think I have. Almost all of them. They are where they are. I am here. Do I want to see them? The answer is a resounding no. However, I have to admit that those years did give me one enchanting musical note amidst all the noise. Alyosha once told me that I should not forget that song. As I look forward, I want to remember those two years for two things only. The painful lessons I learnt. And the magical moments of the song....

The caravan was over long time back. But memories remain. It was a highly suffocating caravan. Yes indeed. But I realized that a caravan always rolls on. The wise know when to join the caravan. And the wise know when to leave the caravan. What matters here is what you leave behind for the caravan. And what you learn from the caravan...

Dancing with the stars...

At the workplace. All of them come to the place. Many talk. More send emails. Very few work. Really amazing. The rule of thumb in large offices is this: 20% of the folks at work always do 80% of the work. More intuitive way of putting it is: 20% work hard. And the remaining 80% hardly work. And it is this 80% which is more often than not star-struck. The question is why? And the answer is pretty simple. In today's world, visibility at workplace is more important than your work. Like it or not. This is a bitter truth. A person who contributes little but which gets noticed is more likely to make headway up the organization than one who contributes more but with little visibility. And yes, just to make it clear. Visibility does not mean contribution footprint in today's rat race. It plainly means staying in the radar of the management. Now, the question as to who gets elevated to stardom at a workplace?? More often than not, the lady or gentleman who contributes 80% to a job which in reality is 20% the complexity and priority of a core but less "visible" job. Stars at workplace. Their influence. Their importance. Their worth. And their very existence. All debatable. And yet a reality that is inescapable. Here is something more curious. When it comes to work distribution, you would naturally expect the so-called star to receive a larger share of the burden. But, real life situations hardly agree. In fact, a star will only do 20% of the overall task. And the philosophy usually at play is this: These folks by their very presence uplift the others to complete the remaining 80%. All this might seem laughable right away. But think about it. You will be surprised how much you can relate these numbers to your work environment....

At the workplace. Is it crucial to have stars? I dont know. May be. May be not. The answer lies in the definition of a star. I am not going to romanticize the notion of a star as one who works really hard and never gets his due. I visualize a star as one who inspires 80% of the workforce by doing 80% of the work. And the remaining 20% of the work is a learning curve for the rest so that they too can establish their mettle and become stars. Personally, I never did have any liking for stars. Nor do I have time and fascination for stardom. I would rather have 20% of the workforce as stars, real stars. Rather than 80% of the workforce as no good false stars. About my own workplace. I am yet to form a complete opinion. But the experience so far indicates that 80% of what I wrote today is accurate with regards to my own work environment. Ending with something to think about. How does a star feel when the stardom is gone???

Relationships and expiry dates...

Do relationships have expiry dates? All or some? Hmmm...Dont really know. The relationship might be categorized as love, family and extended family, friendship and workplace. There might be more. But right now, I can think of these obvious ones. Do they come in different flavors? Expiry dates? Do they have them? If so, then do they come stamped with them? Or is it that as time passes by, expiry dates start to appear on them? Take a moment. I ask this question. Not because I am cynical of "forever relationships". They may exist for real. But I ask this question to just look back at some of mine. And may be analyze a few of them. And look forward to future ones. Let me look at each of the four mentioned earlier. And I go in reverse order to make things easy ofcourse...

So, the easiest one to discuss I suppose... Most relationships at workplace are professional by nature. I leave out the ones which are not for now..Ok, so we make acquaintances at work. Team mates and colleagues are courteous. And polite. Some may be nasty. Ofcourse the job and the job role dictates the tone of the relationship at workplace. A peer or a boss or a junior. There might be competition or there might be cooperation. The relationship may or may not fluctuate everyday. Some day you get flowers. Some day brickbats. And ultimately each on his own. Perhaps, these relationships do come with a expiry date. But we simply carry on because its a must dear. And when you quit, these relationships fall apart very easily. The expiry date becomes obvious. Ofcourse exceptions are to be found. There might be that one odd gal or guy in that cube on the 21st floor who would continue to remain in touch....

Next is friends and friendship. Some will question the very basis for this discussion. How can a friendship have an expiry date? Well, some of you or may be most of you would have at some point of time by now realized that "friends forever" is something that we wish forever but we seldom get. And those who get are the really lucky ones. The folks with friends a million might one day realize that this question is reasonable enough. Spend some time looking through your facebook or myspace or orkut friends and see how many really are "friends". Ofcourse, instant would be the reply that friendship comes in layers. Shrek might want to add friendship to his "ogres and onions have layers" theory. I though can consider myself to be a little fortunate on this account. I do not have a gazillion friends. The number of people I consider friend I can count on my fingertips. I once complained about this. But my mom put it succinctly to me. Better to have less than ten real friends rather than a million wannabes for whom you mean nothing. Why do people make friends? Some because they like these folks. Some because these folks help them get something in career or society. Some because it makes them "cool" to be associated with these folks. So, the answer to my question. Do they have expiry dates? Yes, the ones which do not allow an individual to breathe freely. Yes, the ones which enforce the mob mentality. And yes, the ones where there are false expectations. But, the friendship whose sole foundation is real warmth and concern does not have any expiry date. A friend and you do not have to agree upon everything. The best of friendships exist because there is a genuine liking as well as the scope to disagree on issues. The most remarkable aspect of such friendships which do not have expiry dates is that being in such a relationship itself is the best thing about them...

Family. And extended family. What?? The trickiest one to think about. Your parents are the greatest thing to happen to you. And no bond between mother and father and their children has any sort of expiry date by rule. And this I think is a sacred one. However. And a sad one at that, this bond in many cases around this world has not been able to escape the vagaries of this era's commercialism and "all about the self" attitude. Truly sad to even think any further on this. Yes. For ages there have been arguments and fights within families. Wealth. Fame. Better opportunities. Difference of opinion. Jealousy. You name it. Scores of families have been wasted for the worst of reasons. However, as some would put it. Its all in the family. Well, that family whose basis is love does not have any expiry date whatsoever. But all those families where deceit rules and material gains are the primary focus have the earliest possible expiry dates....

Atlast the one. The most confusing one. The relationship. The one where you are in love with that one person. If you are in a relationship with someone. And suddenly things are not working out. Then is it time to move on??? Is this person "the one"? The Chosen One?? This question pops up to almost every other soul at some point in their lives. For some its early. For some its a bit late. What if I am wrong? What if she is not the one? What if she is the one? Is she the one for keepers?? If we break up, then will we ever get back together? Or is this the end? Should I tell her that I love her? Is it love? Or is it some infatuation that will pass away? May be some relationship that has an expiry date that is today itself? Or is it destiny that we met? And that this is the match made in heaven. Cant help laughing here. Well. Falling in love is easy. Staying is difficult. So, does love have an expiry date??? And the answer is no. The mere fact that you call it "love" and not infatuation and fixation means that it does not have any expiry date. Had it been infatuation or fixation or crush, then the answer is yes. If this relationship is based on lust, then it has an expiry date for sure. If you ever fell in love with someone, she remains etched in your heart. You may break up with her. Never see her again. Try to forget her. But, sometime when you will sit idle looking at the sunset, you will think about her. Those days. Those moments. That spark. That magic. That conversation. How can it be not love? And how can such a feeling have an expiry date??

Alright. Isnt it about this always?? Finally moving on. There is always some work to do. There is always some friend to talk to. There is always your family to go to. And then there is always that one you love. And when you are with them at that moment, you dont really care about expiry dates. All you do is live in the moment. And thats all that counts anyway...

A brave new world...

The world is changing. New ideas. New thoughts. Every new generation brings with it a new perspective. A new approach to life. Many problems have been solved. Far greater ones still remain. The challenges that the world faces include poverty, hunger, inadequate health care, lack of education, unemployment, climate change, terrorism and intolerance. We live now in a world defined by boundaries and full of cynicism. Here is the question. Can we sculpt a brave new world? One whose foundation would be harmony and goodwill. One which will be united in its fight against these challenges? A brave new world...

It is certainly possible. Difficult yes. With a fierce determination and an unyielding will, it is possible. First of all, we would need to accept that these problems exist. Denial of the problem is a problem in itself. Second, there has to be a concentrated effort from all nations, industrialized as well as developing, towards mitigating these problems. Research and development of technology would be directed to meet these real challenges. Elimination of poverty would be the main concern. Creating easily accessible primary and secondary education avenues would act as an effective foil to radicalism and intolerance. Affordable healthcare for all irrespective of their economic status must be the goal set so that we can fight disease and sanitation problems. These are only a few things that can be used as a stepping stone towards this new world. Most importantly, the youth of this world need to be the agents of this change. A combination of Western society and the spirituality of the East would be the foundation of the new world order. All it takes is a voice. And people like Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Teresa are evidence that the power of example still wields a greater influence than the example of power. A person does not have to hold a position of rank, have wealth and advanced levels of education to be part of this change. Every person irrespective of his gender, race, economic status, creed and caste can be actively involved in this process and reap the benefits of this change. If each can do something to bring about change at the community level, the movement shall grow to include everyone.

A brave new world is not wishful thinking. Nor is it based on false hope. It is possible and for sure. The only thing we need is a change in present mindset and attitude. And the path is clear. And all we need to take is the first step. All we need is a few dedicated and energetic men and women to come forward...

At the hour of separation...

Kahlil Gibran said, "Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation." Many people come into your life. Many people go out of your life. Many years later, you think of some of them. The jokes. The thrill. The conversations. And you wonder. What impact did these people have on your life? What did you learn from them? How would you define that relationship? Was it good that you never met again? Was it bad that you never said something that you now wish you should have? That hour of separation. So vivid. Yet so unclear. What would you give for that one hour again??

At the hour of separation. Somethings in life always dawn on you only at that point. That what you took for granted suddenly is not so. That what meant very little to you suddenly becomes everything there is. Only at this hour, you see the same things in completely different light. A new perspective. Poignant about the past. And not knowing what the future holds. You just sit there. And thoughts race through your mind. Recollections. Of all that was. Of all that could have been. That very moment presents a conundrum. Do you look back? Or do you ponder ahead? What do you do at that very moment? Think about it. Every relationship whose foundation is love has its finest hour. And it is this. The hour of separation. At that precise moment, words seem so futile. But the one you love understands you perfectly. Both of you think on the same lines. The moments you were together. The moments that you were apart. And the moment in future when you will be together again. Every second is sublime. Every minute is magic. You live a lifetime in that hour. For now, I take solace in Tennyson's thoughts....'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

It is all about passion...

An intense emotion. Something very difficult to describe. But everyone has some of it for atleast something. Something which encompasses everything. And yet leaves enough scope for other emotions. Some people have a passion for music. Many for books. Others for cooking. Most for sports. I want to address it from a more generic platform. In short, what makes a person passionate about something....

Every individual wants to achieve something or the other. Happiness, success, wealth, fame and ofcourse love. Not only is it about these things, but also about the desire for these things. Passion is a beautiful manifestation of desire. What is the difference? Well, its quite subtle. Let me explain with an example. A piece of wood does not burn when exposed to sunlight. But, when the sunrays are concentrated at one spot, then the wood burns. Desire is the aim. Nothing ever came out of a desire. Passion is the concentrated effort to achieve that aim. Nothing ever came out without passion. Passion for work. When is a person passionate about work? When there is something to be achieved. When there is something that excites. When there is some level of creativity. When there is growth. When there is satisfaction. Passion for life. When is a person passionate about life? When yesterday is about learning from one's mistakes. When today presents an opportunity to be cheerful by doing something constructive. When tomorrow offers hope for a better future. Passion for work And life?? When some inner nerve is touched. When there is an inner call. When the soul rushes into a state of ecstasy at the mere sense of a new beginning. When the soul recognizes itself....

Passion cannot be learnt. Passion cannot be borrowed. Passion cannot be replicated. Passion cannot be perfected. But, passion can be felt. It can be associated with. And it can be understood. And therein lies the secret of passion. Go out. And lie down on the grass facing the night sky. Calm and still. A beautiful starry sky. Clear out your thoughts. Now close your eyes for a moment. Absolute silence. What do you see?? Something right. Everything you do in this life is for that what you just saw. Your passion....

Motion does not mean progress...

Rowing the boat does not mean you are going in the right direction. Neither does flowing with the current. Moving because the wind blows almost certainly does not. Ok, so where are we going today? Progress. The result desired from almost every endeavor that man begins. Yes indeed. This little word epitomizes all there is to human endurance and indomitable spirit. Growth follows progress. Instantly? Not quite. It might take time to witness visible growth after progress has begun. Does the growth have ethical and moral foundations? I leave that for each to judge. Very often, we do certain things just to make some headway. "To get things moving" is a well known phrase here. Folks belonging to this school of thought believe that "walking if not running is better than sitting still". So, they advise any action that gets you going. Whether this initial action itself achieves the goal is not the question here. But, it is certainly worth asking if there exists a class of actions that merely facilitates other actions. Doing something so that you reach a stage from where the result oriented action is performed. Sort of the boosters that are used to propel the space shuttle into space. So it might well be assumed for argument's sake that such a class exists. Then the next point to ponder would be this: When do we utilize such an action? The reason for this being that it is quite possible that the wrong initial move might actually guide you into a different trajectory. And then instead of correcting the path, more often than not "patching" is done. But the supporters of such a class of actions might strongly point out that the primary purpose was achieved when you were set on the path. And there ends the role of such actions. Beyond that, what happens is not the concern. In short, the action "to get things moving" must be taken so with only that intention in mind. And not as the final strike. Hmmm....

Coming back to the main theme of the day. There are three different motifs over here. The first: An action with absolutely no goal. The second: An action which associates with every goal. The third: An action which is fully dependent on the environment for a goal. All of the three motifs basically translate into the same text. Motion does not necessarily mean progress. What needs to be done then? A rational and careful introspection of the action should clearly reveal the goal. It might not be the final one. The action should be performed with only one goal in mind (which might be a subset of/stepping stone for the final goal) . Focus is crucial. And finally, environment variables must not convolute the intention of the action. An action might be influenced by the environment, but not dictated by it. Final point. Motion can be in two directions. Forward and backward. Progress is only in one direction. Right direction. Growth is a combination. Two steps forward in the right direction and one step backwards.....

Defining karma....

Karma. And past life. Do you remember who you were in your past life? What you did? Where you lived? Has it ever flashed in your dreams? Some episode from your past life? Something that you could not explain? Do you remember anything from your past life?? Were you a seaman in the late 1800s somewhere in modern day Ireland? Were you a mapmaker or an astronomer somewhere in Hungary in the 7th century? May be a weaver in the 1400s in some province of Russia? Or a surgeon on the island of New Guinea in the 12th century? Well, who knows?? Our past life and the mystery around it always invokes some curiosity and excitement. Who doesnt want to know about oneself in some other age? How we lived? Who were our friends? Who was our lifemate then? How did we die? Some questions that are pretty interesting. And most of the answers are usually bordering on the edge of speculation. But, wouldnt it be amazing to know the answers to all these questions? May be, if we knew, we would go to that part of the world. And rediscover some part of our past life....

Now, moving on to today's point of discussion. Do things happen in a cycle? Our karma decides our next birth?? Do we end up with the same environment in every birth? Do we have the same family in every birth? Do we have the same friends in every birth? And now I am wondering if it is possible to guess who we all were in our past life by looking into our current lives? If you were a politician in your last birth, will you be in a similar profession in this one? Ok. May be you still bear the traits of a remarkable politician in this life even if you are say a dentist. If you were a farmer in your last life, then maybe you still have the industriousness of one in this life. Or is it that every person begins from a clean slate in every birth? And what about our soulmate? Is our soulmate going to be with us in every life? This one is the most interesting question for today's topic. If it is true that the soul transcends our mortal body, then the soulmate does too. Which in effect translates into this stunning conclusion: "You already know your soulmate. You have already known him or her across your other lives. And this life is nothing but a beautiful reunion." Hmmm.....

In the end there is nothing but our karma. And it is the only link between our different lives. Our thoughts, our speech, our actions and our conduct are all elements of our karma. They influence our past, our present and our future. Will living a good present life earn us the merit of a better next life? Dont know. But it will certainly make our present life much more worthwhile. Now, atlast I write about the law of karma. In its simplest form, the truth about karma is this: "Our deeds define our life." And the most beautiful aspect of it is this: "Every karma needs to be done without any expectation of good or bad."

Definition of 'karma': Purity in thoughts. Clarity in speech. Selflessness in actions. And righteousness in conduct.....

Somethings you know will never happen and yet you...

Here it is. We want so many things from life. Different people. Different things. Many want love. More want wealth. Others want success. Some want fame. And there are those who want it all. Add inner peace anmd happiness to this melting pot as well. And what you have is a plethora of wishes. Nothing wrong. For each his own desire. Seems fair. But then, what I am talking about today? Those things that you so very much want in your life. And yet you perfectly know that they wont happen to you. Just as an aside, I do believe in miracles. Yes. Some of my friends wonder about this. "Coming from a science background and this?" And I say, yes. In fact, science reinforces the possibility of miracles for me. Moving on, about these things that we know will not happen to us, yet we...

Almost everyone has heard the stories of Cinderella and the Frog Prince. And every gal and guy sincerely hopes for a fairy tale situation in their lives. Aah..dont tell me you didnt do so too? I openly admit. I did and I do so even to this day. Because, even if I know the probability of me finding my princess, having all the luxuries in the world and living a life of complete happiness is almost zero, it gives me enough hope and encouragement in life. Brings some cheer into the life of a monotonous, "only in and out of office" geek. Some lawnmowers have more fun filled lives. Seriously. Many of us visualize ourselves doing some of the most romantic, heroic and even funny things. But do we really do them? Nopes. Everyone wants to go on a candlelight dinner with their favorite moviestar. Everyone wants to be close to their idolized sports star. Everyone wants to been in the limelight. A positive headline bearing your name. Yah. Open the newspaper in the morning to see your name. And the story featured mentioning how you overcame real tough circumstances to rescue someone in distress. Very true, Deep down most of us are underdogs. And not a day goes by when we feel life has not been fair to us. And these very so-called imaginary things breathe some joy and cheer in our lives.

At this point, I think of an old acquaintance. This person believed in such "imaginary" things. It was plainly obvious from some of the things said. But, on the outside, she would hesitate to admit this. I dont know. I have no qualms about saying this out loud and clear. But, different people, different things. Each has own. I let it be. So, this put a question to me??? Do people feel awkward in accepting openly that they believe such "impossible and imaginary things" ?? Is it an effect of living in a cynical world? Is it a direct result of the world being viewed through the kaleidoscope of "adult understanding and maturity"? So much so that childlike innocence is a past relic and something that is now frowned upon? Is it wrong to think that there exists a parallel universe? Is it ridiculous to expect leprechauns in your verandah? Is it self insulting to wonder where the elves live? Are fairies a myth created to amuse some?? Nopes..

So, going back to the original point. Somethings you know will never happen and yet you believe in them. Why? Simple reason. Because they inspire us. Give us hope. And bring some cheer into our lives. Having already visualized and felt those things, we have witnessed a miracle. Isnt it? Our heart and our mind knows something that reason convinces us is not possible. Somethings in life are far greater than reason. Far beyond the realms of reality. And if they are imaginary, then so be it. What is fact? What is fiction? Who decides? You only do it. So go on believing in everything you want. Anything. All that makes you happy is true. And believable indeed. Ask yourself this question: If I assume that it will never happen, then by believing in its possibility, do I lose anything??? And you will know the answer yourself.....

A traveller with empty pockets...

Pretty simple, huh? Who is this guy with empty pockets? Someone we know? The guy we met at the bookstore yesterday or the guy next door? Nopes. He can be anyone. Anyone who is not concerned about the consequences. "Who dares wins" sort of guy. Such people do exist. And you might walk into one such person in your office. Seriously. Has the guts to say what is right. Has the chutzpah to upset the egos of many folks. Has the intellect to begin a rousing discussion. And the panache to end it in an abrupt manner. Most importantly, doesnt flinch one bit when asked to join the "fire fighting" at work....

Does every workplace need such people? You bet. Why? Because they get the job done? Yeah. And ?? Because they are not scared at all of the consequences of their actions. How often do people behave in a manner not natural to them? How often do people not speak up against what is wrong? How often do people not act to correct a process which they know is inherently flawed? And they dont speak or act simply because "how might someone else feel?" or "oh, i dont want to hurt someone" or maybe "my boss might not like it". Even better, "this might not fly with the executive". Give me a break. This fear is a mirage. An innovative organization never frets over frank and forthright opinion. Even the worst of "updates" are taken in a positive manner. In the right spirit. Only that workplace which houses "I love my job and how things are today" kind of people discourages honest and free expression of thoughts. A place full of people who are never ready to take steps to introduce corrective changes to the so called "process"....

Furthermore, what kind of role do such travellers enjoy? A position from where they can "shake up" things. Not necessarily being a leader of the troupe or the show manager. But sort of a playmaker on a soccer field. Some job where there is creativity and enough freedom to exercise it. And bring about real progress. Set up the play so that the strikers score the goal. Finally, what is the most common attribute of all such people? You can put your best foot forward to put them down. Bureaucracy. Boredom. Blockages. And lots of frustration too. They will never back off. They will pull on...And eventually win. A traveller with empty pockets can whistle in a robber's face....And whats more..will live to tell another interesting tale many years later.

That which is free...

So, what is the world's most liked word? Free. Yes indeed. The word "free". It has different shades to it. The most trivial one is the most popular one. Go to any part of the world. Speak any language. And wear any outfit. People understand this word with the same range of emotion. Free to do whatever you want. Free to be as you want. Free time. Free goodies. Free lunch. Uncle Scrooge swears by it. The good. The bad. The ugly. All like it. I do. And I know that you do too. Now, just something to reflect upon...Do we really cherish and treasure that which is free??

So why does this word win the Miss Congeniality award? Let us first think on the more material aspects. Free food, free goodies etc. Very easy to explain to myself. And understand as well. The first reason that comes to the mind is this. Everyone is a child at heart. No matter how old you are. And someone brings you a gift, your eyes gleam with joy. So, anything that is free, it is like a gift from someone to you. And you are happy. Second reason. Since times unknown, man has known this thing called barter. So, something free goes against the norm. And everyone likes being a rebel. Dont know why this happens. But true. Third reason. "Hey, if I am just getting to keep it, then why not?" attitude. Need say anymore?? Moving onto the more serious and interesting aspects of the word "free". There is an innate human desire to act in a certain way. Live as one feels. Say those things. Believe in different ideals. We give these simple things more sophisticated terms. Sort of a glossy finish. Freedom of speech. Freedom of religion. Freedom of action. Freedom of choice. As in you choose what is right for you. In short, freedom to be and live as you feel. Ofcourse, with an underlying assumption that your freedom does not in any way cloud that of anyone else. Why do we like this word for these things? Only one reason. And it is so strong that it does not need any other. And it is this. It affirms our ability to lead a life full of happiness and self content....

In life, the most wonderful things are the ones which are "free". In a special way. The birds. The butterflies. The golden sunrays. The soothing breeze. The pleasant shade of the magnolia tree on a hot Sunday afternoon. Even "more beautiful" are these. A thought that is free of parochialism. A will that is free of deceit. A decision that is free of ignorance. A situation that is free of dilemma. A resolve that is free of procrastination. A beginning that is free of impatience. An end that is free of pride. A speech that is free of malice. An action that is free of expectations. A responsibility that is free of worldly compulsions. A judgement that is free of prejudice. A sense of hope that is free of limits. A relationship that is free of restrictions. A world that is free of hatred. A way of life that is free of intolerance. A memory that is free of pain. A mind that is free of fear. And a heart which loves freely....

All that emptiness and me....

Look up at the night sky. Millions of stars looking down on you. Amidst the darkness. Emptiness. And you are standing alone here. Space and time. Lots of energy out there. And you are left with one question? What lies out there? Are we alone?? Space. Something that has captivated man since times unknown. What mysteries lie in this phenomenon called universe? Who created the universe? And why? How big is it? How was it formed? How old is it? There are answers. There are theories. But, do we really know? A moment...

All that emptiness and me. You wonder at times. If we were alone indeed, would it not be a whole lot of empty space? Or is there something that we have failed to understand? The syllable 'Om'. The beginning. And the end. The same sound I hear in that conch I found on the sea shore. The same sound I hear when I lie still on the ground. Somehow, the whole universe seems connected. For all its vastness and empty space, there are also beautiful galaxies, supernovas and other planetary systems. Empty space is not so very empty. And yet, to man, it is. Intergalactic oneness. You know deep down. That in some far away infathomable galaxy and in some mysterious time warp, there is some soul who is calling out to you. Holding out her hand to you. And you reach out to the sky as well. In the hope that you touch her. Somehow, some waves reach to you. And you understand what she is saying. Yes. Every subatomic particle that is part of you perfectly recognizes the charge that is coming forth from the sky. From that soul. No distance is too large for this charge to permeate. Telepathy. Naah. Intergalactic oneness...

Our life is much like the universe. Same questions? Yes. Same answers? Dont know. There is emptiness and there is wholeness. What do we see? We see both. There is energy. Both light and dark. Perhaps, this cosmos holds out something for us to realize. To know. To understand. That we are not alone. Though there is emptiness, it is not everything. Even one tiny speck of light is enough to dispel our emptiness. Now I know. That beautiful light in space would never have captured our imagination had it not been for the emptiness around it...

Mopping the floor to turn off the faucet....

Well. Everyday we face some problem or the other. At home. At workplace. During commute. You name it. So what do we do with most of these problems. Either we try to find a solution. Or sit on it and let it fix itself. I choose to discuss the first option. When solutions are the order of the day. Wait. I am more interested in the approach. Ok. Ok. The solution is important. But, the road taken in pursuit of the solution seems far more interesting...

So, whats with this theme...mopping the floor blah blah. Something I have done. And something which some of you do too. Identifying the problem can be easy. But finding the cause is difficult. Need to list all possibilities. Put them in some order. And then that old process of elimination of irrelevant stuff. Pause. Many a times we dont do all this. Actually very frequently. We simply try to find a "fix" to the issue at hand. And honestly, this fix is some sort of a bandage on the wound. And is not really going to heal the wound. Only stop the bleeding for the moment. Huh.. Sometimes this is a personal habit. Every person takes this route one time or the other. On the other hand, this is a characteristic of the system itself. Your environment. Your action place. You have a high priority bug (sorry for "the term"... operational hazard). And you dont have time to sort this issue out. But, you are under enormous pressure to "fix it". You then do this. Mopping the floor to turn off the faucet....

Some might argue thus. This is how it is. Some quack right now will buy time to find an expert solution. But, how often do we go and do the right thing after the need is over. Naaah...We just leave it. If it aint broke now, why fix it right? This is not correct. You do not have to be Einstein to figure this. No complex equations. No complex philosophies involved. Time and space are relative. Yeah. And so are solutions. But it would never hurt to put that extra effort to find the right solution. A lasting one too. Ok..Ok. Atleast one that might last for some substantial block of time. A short term fix will always bring back the problem later on. And one has to spend more time and effort to go over it again. Worth it? Nopes.

Ending with some things to ponder over for the next few days. Moment please. Fine. If a solution fixes the problem only "right now", is it a solution? If a solution fixes the problem at hand, but creates another, then is it a solution? And finally, what is a "wrong solution"? If it is wrong, how can it be a solution??? Mopping the floor to turn off the faucet. There you go...

In order that people may be happy in their work....

Ruskin wrote thus: "In order that people may be happy in their work, these three things are needed: They must be fit for it. They must not do too much of it. And they must have a sense of success in it."

After a series of events over the last year, my level of conviction in these words has grown. Every one in their youth is told that work is worship. But, never told that quality matters as much as quantity, if not more. Organizational growth and sustainability is directly tied to the happiness and intellectual engagement of all the pieces within it. The scale and variety of systemic problems varies from one organization to another. Intuition would lead us to say that organizational size does play a major role here. What are the common problems ailing any organization over a certain period??

First one that instantly pops up in any discussion is a lack of information flow. "But, I was never told of it" problem that everyone has experienced. Communication gap is now a part of everyday lexicon. Yet it is perhaps the most frequent problem noticed. Information flow is not a unidirectional flow. It has to go in both ways. The grass roots need to be perfectly aware of what the top hierarchy is planning and formulating. After all, they are the ones who will implement the process. Meanwhile, the upwards flow is important as it gives the top an exact idea of the concerns, grievances and challenges that the the bottom might have. Otherwise, there is always the danger of a shipwreck if the captain does not know that an iceberg is on the horizon...

The other problem that is very frequently observed is that of lack of precise planning. "Things changed and this came up" attitude arises out of this. Planning is very important as far as actual execution is concerned. Number of problems anticipated during planning phase makes it that much more easier during execution. Which brings me to an interesting question. Who should be the players during the planning phase? Every person who will play a role in the execution needs to be involved. Planning cannot be compartmentalized. You cannot have one set plan and another execute. The two sets have to intersect at some point. The finest aerospace engineers cannot design the most advanced and useful planes without actual inputs from the guys who will eventually fly them...

Another problem which happens often is "sit on it" attitude. Everyone knows there is a problem. But instead of doing something about it, they sit on it. Let it be. This does not help anyone. This problem is sometimes exacerbated because of the refusal to accept the fact that the problem exists. Both the management and grass roots are guilty of this on various levels. Simply acknowledging the fact and then letting it lie is even worse than refusal to acknowledge it in the first place. A small hole can bring down the great dam....

The last great problem that I intend to discuss today is that of "this is how it has always been" attitude. Legacy when right needs to be carried forward. There is no shame when one has to dump wrong legacy. This is the greatest vice that affects every work culture. That one which can remove itself from the clutches of this problem thrives and ensures growth. Work culture is something that is inherent and local to every organization. It can be adapted to suit the needs of the organization. However, letting the organization adapt to the work culture is the wrong way. People who are so much a part of the work culture are the ones who will prevent any change to it. This is where youth can play a fantastic role. It knows no bounds. It is willing to take risks and inject that very much needed dynamism. However, there is always the risk of frustration among youth when things do not move in the desired way....

Youth is one of the most important driving factors behind any organizational growth and sustainability. Young blood brings in the force and spirit required for uplifting the organization from any stagnancy and decline. It takes time. But during that period, youth matures and understands the exact amount of torque needed to change the direction in which the organization is headed for. It is very much possible that prevalent work culture and organizational framework are so rigid that molding any change is that much more difficult. In fact, there is the chance that the system resists change. Though the change is for the better. Sometimes knowingly. Sometimes unknowingly. Reasons vary...

Going back to Ruskin's words. Every organization needs to find its requirements. These may evolve. However, the basic understanding would remain the same. Both the grass roots and the top hierarchy need to find a perfect balance. Job roles and their scopes need to be defined. Precise planning and the flexibility to change legacy make the work interesting. Motivates the cadre to get involved even more. Success drives success. An engaging work environment fosters a sense of reponsibility and ownership. Drives the grass roots to assume situational leadership. This is beneficial to the organization on the whole in the long run. Cultivate the garden within...

Ending this piece with something to think about. Is work culture an incremental phenomenon?? Or is it something that is driven by natural selection?? What sort of relationship exists between change and work culture??

I speak of garlic, you reply about onions...

I speak of garlic, you reply about onions. What is this? It is the easiest way of avoiding unpleasant things. Happens everyday. Think about it. Sometimes you do it. Many times you are at the receiving end. It is now a very integral part of conversation. But, it is not so easy. You need to be one real good chef to know your onions from garlic. And more so, when to use what and how much...

The right quantity of onions and garlic adds taste. You know that. Why do I speak of garlic? And why do you come back to me with onions? The more sophisticated ones will put a nice touch to it. They will call it a communication gap. The more smart ones will completely be in agreement. As long as the food is good, they dont care. To the more happy go lucky ones sort, they are just playing along. Garlic first, then onions. Or vice versa. These procedural nuances are simply too cumbersome for them. All they are interested is the opportunity to cook something. Whats the most interesting thing in all of this? Both the sides think what they are saying is more relevant. Such talks happen between every guy in love with a gal. Mostly, as an escape from the regular banter. Happens after marriage with more serious overtones. Happens between two friends too. Happens at workplaces. And it is very amusing when it happens there. But, do you ever point out to your boss that an onion is not a garlic? Nopes. And realpolitik says you should not. Happens as a norm in politics. Is a classic feature of red tape. But, this kinda talk is not all that bad at all times. Sometimes, it is the perfect ice breaker. In fact, it would not be wrong to call this onion-garlic talk the mistress of diplomacy...

Machiavelli and Chanakya are I am certain proud of it. Everyone likes it when they are in a corner. But no one likes it when they have someone cornered. Garlics have pods. And onions have layers. The first is said to be good for the heart. Second for the eyes !! And between them they spice up your mind and life...

To say...or not to say...

Everyday there is a moment when you wish you had said something to someone. Everyday there is a moment when you wish you had not said something to someone. What is more difficult? To regret not saying something. Or to regret having said something. Let us take a moment here...Hmmm. Ok. Moving on. As I sit today looking outside the window, I can clearly see somethings. Some moments actually. When I should have said something that I never did. And some moments which I wish to forget for having said something that I should never have. A spoken word and a shot arrow never come back..Well, true. Thats all I can say. But, the word never spoken and the arrow never shot also never come out again. What am I saying? Yes, I am saying that both situations are painful. If you say something that you should never have, you realize it pretty soon. And it is not fun. Now, assume you never said something. Well, you know...years down the line..It hurts real bad...

How I wish I could have changed somethings? Changed the script...But, did any movie ever get to change the script after its release?? No. So it is in life. But, sometimes there are second chances. And you have to be one lucky guy or gal to get that second shot...Really really lucky. How wonderful it would be if we knew what is the right moment and timing to say or not say something!! Neither late nor early. Just in time. How nice it would be to not feel awful after many years about that hasty tongue slip? How nice it would be to not feel miserable after many years about that glued tongue? Haaa. Everything is not so easy. A few things that I have learnt painfully yet thankfully over the last few years. I have to say it. Then I have to say it. I will not get another chance. Next is never to say a mean word to anyone. Only one reason. I wont like it myself after a few minutes. If I like something or some quality or some aspect of someone, I have to tell him or her. A good word never goes waste. A small word of appreciation is always welcome. No one wants to be seen doing a thankless job. If someone is wrong, let know. Invariably, not letting know hurts oneself in the long run. I have the right to grumble. So does the other party. As long as the grumbling is genuine and in the best interests of one and all.

Looking back. I think I should definitely have said atleast one thing at one point of time to someone. And I should definitely never have said so many things at some point of time to so many. To say or not to say. Was the question. The right answer still eludes me....

More than just a game...

The gentleman's game. Yes. It has always been called so. Cricket is more than just a game. It evokes passion. From the early days of colonial pastime to a genuine modern entertainment spectacle, cricket has come a long way. But something about it has not changed. And that is this. It is more of a talking sport than a playing one. You dont need to play it to know its nuances. Its intricacies. Every person among the millions outside the boundary lines is as knowledgeable as the few inside it. Or so it is supposed to be. From the chawls of Mumbai to the beaches of the Caribbean, from the meadows of Old England to the clubs in Sydney, everyone loves to talk about it. Yes, everyone loves more to talk about it than play it. Scarcely, nay impossible would it be to find another game as this....

Every household that is glued to this game knows what I am talking about. The old timers still go by the cut of Bradman and the drives of Sobers. The 70s generation has the swagger of Richards etched in their memories. They still fondly talk about the great fast bowlers of those times. The pace and accuracy of Holding, Lillee and Marshall came naturally to people's discussions. For me and most of the 90s baby boomers, the most remarkable players would be Sachin, Lara and Warne. Decades from now, I and my friends am sure will continue to talk about the consistency of Sachin, the pure artistry of Lara and the magic of Warne. Yes, there have been scandals. There has been talk of corruption. Agreed, there is now an overdose of commercialism. Some say there is no art nor grace left in the game. It is now more like a mechanical science. Has its mix of management theories. Something that can be perfected by repetition. But, amidst all this, cricket talk still retains its innocence and charm. Be it between fathers and sons or even between two friends. Behind every fervent plea from a cricket tired wife or girlfriend is still that curiosity to know the latest score....

How I miss my cricket talk with some of my friends? I know some of them are very passionate. Every win of their favorite team is like a personal win for them. Every century scored by their favorite batsman is simply adding to their treasure trove. Every milestone that their favorite bowler reached is memorized by them. I miss the talk. There would be times when everyone else would make lighthearted fun of that one guy whose larger than life player failed or his deeply adored team lost. There would even be times when one of us would feel vindicated at having made a prediction that just came true...."See, I told you na" kinda moment. The gleam in the eyes when the team won. The downcast faces when the team lost. Cricket is not just any sport. It is something that every cricket lover takes pride in. And his or her heart has something to say about it. And there is every effort made to appear well informed about the game. Everyone offers their two cents advice before the game. During the game. And indeed after the game. But it is more than that. There is criticism and praise. There is emotion filled chirpiness. The game's uncertainties add to the thrill. Everyone just basks in the joy of the spectacle of this beautiful game...

Give us a bat and a ball. And we will play for a few hours. But take us to see a game of bat and ball. And we will talk about it for the next few days. And even remember that lovely game after many years....

To see a world in a grain of sand...

I went for a walk today. And I went over those lines again. A grain of sand and a wildflower. Somehow it appealed to me in an unfathomable way. I come back. And sit on the stairs outside my doorstep. And I look up at the sky. It is a quiet evening. A few rain drops just kiss the summer soil. There is a mild feeling to the air. And it is good. I can see the whole place full of flowers. Like a newly married bride. Decked up to please and charm. It brings a smile on my face. A faint breeze begins to blow. I still wonder. I pick up a pebble and throw it at a shrub close by. I pick another. And I am about to throw it as well. I stop. And look at it. Look at it closely. It has a few lines on it. I pick up another one. It has those lines too. I try to come up with some meaning for those lines. And I am not able to. I throw that pebble as well. It just bounces off the grass. And disappears into the vast green before me. Then I look at my palm. And there are lines too. I am still. I get down the stairs and look at other pebbles there. I go to a violet colored flower and examine closely. It has some lines too. And then I again look at my palm. I get inside. Lie down on my bed. And I close my eyes...

Havent written anything in a week or so. Why? Because these few lines of William Blake have stirred me. And I was not able to decide on them. In a grain of sand. In a wild flower. The vastness of the world and the heavens. All that is there to it. Can it be done? And how? Realization. Perhaps the only word that captures the essence of these lines. And yet, leaves out as much for the spirit to remain in awe and wonder...The oneness of all. The emptiness of the world. And its abundance at the same time. May be we should see beyond the obvious. In a busy life. We have no time to look around. Something that is always before our eyes. But we never appreciate every aspect of it...

And I open my eyes. And some of it makes sense now. All the lines mean something. Some lines mean the same. Some lines dont. The stones. The flower. And my palm. The lines intersect at some points. And move in parallel at others. They are thin at some nooks. And have tributaries at other edges. Each line alones make sense. And all lines together do even more. I have the pebble and the flower by my side. And every other second, my gaze is drawn towards them. More towards those lines on them. These lines have some strange quality that now draws me towards them. I put both my hands together as if reading a book. And the lines on both palms connect. Seamlessly. And there lies the answer to my week long dilemma...

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
(From "Auguries of Innocence" By Blake)

Everything is connected. But, I see everything only in parts. Every part is brilliant on its own. But their presence together is even more so. The world too is connected through me. My ideals. My thoughts. My conscience. My faith. My karma. And each dictates if I am able to see everything. And if my soul can feel everything. In my palm. In those lines. I see some meaning now. That same meaning I see in the pebbles. And the flowers. The world is infinite. The heavens too. But so are the lines on the pebbles..the flowers and my palm. All I need to do is open my hands..and look beyond the lines. I am my world. And it is what I make of it....