"the bridge flows, the water is motionless. why?" -- zen koan.
our train started moving. first it moved heavily inch by inch; then gathering momentum, it rattled steel over steel heading hurriedly towards its destination. it seemed unstoppable when suddenly everything stopped and the rattle died away into the distance. only the stopping seemed real now and the shouting of a hawker. "chai, chai, chai."
*****
Saturday, 7 February 2015
Wednesday, 4 February 2015
right action
right action is about acting directly, straight as an arrow, without subterfuge of any kind diverting the path of the missile...
this very complicated sentence drifted through my mind when i was playing with my nine-month-old grandson kunhikuttan this morning.
i usually take charge of him straight out of the bed around 6 a.m., just about the time the sun rises over the mukkundimalai hill to the east of where we live.
the crows would be out cawing, the cockerels calling cock a doodle doo and the koyels singing far and near, as the rays of the sun slanting across the lane going past our gates light up the mist making everything sparkle...
he has this way of bouncing as one holds him in one's arm. he would jump up, jump up, sort of impelling one in the direction he wants to move. when one starts walking in that direction, he would stop bouncing and relax. when one takes him across the spotlight the sun's rays throw across the vanishing mist, he would blink and start smiling, with a remembering sort of expression on his face, eyes shut.
then this sentence, which has no meaning as such, drifted through my mind like a white cloud over the morning skies:
right action is about acting directly, straight as an arrow, without subterfuge of any kind diverting the path of the missile...
*****
this very complicated sentence drifted through my mind when i was playing with my nine-month-old grandson kunhikuttan this morning.
i usually take charge of him straight out of the bed around 6 a.m., just about the time the sun rises over the mukkundimalai hill to the east of where we live.
the crows would be out cawing, the cockerels calling cock a doodle doo and the koyels singing far and near, as the rays of the sun slanting across the lane going past our gates light up the mist making everything sparkle...
he has this way of bouncing as one holds him in one's arm. he would jump up, jump up, sort of impelling one in the direction he wants to move. when one starts walking in that direction, he would stop bouncing and relax. when one takes him across the spotlight the sun's rays throw across the vanishing mist, he would blink and start smiling, with a remembering sort of expression on his face, eyes shut.
then this sentence, which has no meaning as such, drifted through my mind like a white cloud over the morning skies:
right action is about acting directly, straight as an arrow, without subterfuge of any kind diverting the path of the missile...
*****
Sunday, 1 February 2015
"it's just that i didn't cry"
my five-year-old granddaughter neha, running along the quiet lane in our colony, had a fall this morning and badly bruised her knees.
she was running ahead when i was walking to my friend radhakrishnan's home just 50 metres up the lane with her nine-month-old brother kunhikuttan in my arms.
it is our routine nowadays to go there first thing in the morning to see dicky, the white pomeranian, who never barks and likes chocolates and toffees.
neha often takes a bar of chocolate or a piece of toffee to dicky and the three of us--neha, myself and kunhikuttan--would watch her nibbling the offering gleefully, wagging her fluffy tail and running all around us excitedly. my grandson would be jumping in my arms giggling all the while.
this morning, before we reached my friend's gates, neha had this fall gamboling along the tarred lane.
that she was in extreme pain was apparent from the expression on her face, although she was not crying.
"did it hurt," i asked her as her mom cleaned the bruises with cool water preparatory to applying some healing ointment.
she looked up gallantly, her eyes overflowing, and said: "appooppa, it's just that i didn't cry... brave kids don't cry."
her hero is chhotta bheem.
*****
she was running ahead when i was walking to my friend radhakrishnan's home just 50 metres up the lane with her nine-month-old brother kunhikuttan in my arms.
it is our routine nowadays to go there first thing in the morning to see dicky, the white pomeranian, who never barks and likes chocolates and toffees.
neha often takes a bar of chocolate or a piece of toffee to dicky and the three of us--neha, myself and kunhikuttan--would watch her nibbling the offering gleefully, wagging her fluffy tail and running all around us excitedly. my grandson would be jumping in my arms giggling all the while.
this morning, before we reached my friend's gates, neha had this fall gamboling along the tarred lane.
that she was in extreme pain was apparent from the expression on her face, although she was not crying.
"did it hurt," i asked her as her mom cleaned the bruises with cool water preparatory to applying some healing ointment.
she looked up gallantly, her eyes overflowing, and said: "appooppa, it's just that i didn't cry... brave kids don't cry."
her hero is chhotta bheem.
*****
Saturday, 24 January 2015
what does death mean to you?
JK probing with listeners the question 'what does death mean to you?'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uJiP0Uiloc
*****
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uJiP0Uiloc
*****
Sunday, 18 January 2015
return to silence
i listened to him--
his words,
like clean pebbles,
tangible.
the tumult of the thunder squall
died outside
and a quiet crept into room,
snuggling close for warmth.
through a leak in the roof,
dripped rain water,
into a copper pot.
i listened to him--
his words,
like clean pebbles,
tangible.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZs0NinlYVI
*****
P.S.: The above lines were scribbled in May, 2012 trying to describe something one had experienced then. Today one happened to listen to a talk by Papaji on youtube in which he gave clarity to that vague experience. The link to the talk is given above.
Friday, 2 January 2015
let it wait
"we must be willing to let go of the life we have planned,
so as to have the life that is waiting for us."
i chanced into this quote by e.m. forster today, the day after i let go the life i had known for 36 years and stepped into the life that is waiting for me.
today is the day after the day my retired life started.
it looks good,
having nothing to do,
except play with grandchildren a bit,
read a bit,
go for long walks morning and evening...
in this unfurling silence something is waiting.
let it wait.
*****
so as to have the life that is waiting for us."
i chanced into this quote by e.m. forster today, the day after i let go the life i had known for 36 years and stepped into the life that is waiting for me.
today is the day after the day my retired life started.
it looks good,
having nothing to do,
except play with grandchildren a bit,
read a bit,
go for long walks morning and evening...
in this unfurling silence something is waiting.
let it wait.
*****
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