Life Flows

It is a sad day. My uncle passed away in a remote village in Tamil Nadu. Only a week ago I had talked to him since I heard that he was diagnosed with cancer. We talked for over 20 minutes and I promised to call him back after the biopsy results were available. He returned home from Madurai- the doctors had given him only a few months but he did not last more than a couple of days. Minutes before he breathed his last he exclaimed to his wife that ‘Yogam Mani’ ( my late mother) was present in the room. My mother loved him a lot and she was there to escort him away from the pain and suffering of a bodily existence.

He leaves behind a shattered and devastated family- wife , 2 boys and a girl. The girl and the eldest son are blind from birth. My uncle was the sole breadwinner for so many years and suffered the agony of watching the two visually challenged children grow into adults. They needed him for everything- to be led to the bathroom, to be fed and dressed and groomed, to go out to bring the groceries.. They won’t even know that he is gone. Who knows what destiny has in store for these unfortunate children

Life presents itself in many wonderful ways. As Wayne says “Death is not the end of life, rather, birth and death are a part of life” . The beautiful red hibiscus bloom at my home that I marveled at today morning and the pictures of his new born that a colleague sent me by email are as much a display of Life’s unembellished presentation as a death of a loved uncle

My Master moves on

A message from an Advaita Portal brought me the news of the passing away of my Master- Ramesh Balsekar. He is and will always be the one who held my hand as I began my spiritual quest. I met him some 5 years ago for the first time. I had just finished reading "I am That " based on the talks with Nisargadutta Maharaj and was desperate to meet the master. When I learnt that he was already gone and that his disciple was teaching at his home in Pedar road, I wasted no time to be in his presence. I took the hot seat and when he asked me how I came to know of him I told him the aforesaid story. He then asked, "So you have come to see me before I pass away?" Amidst laughter in the room, I answered in the affirmative and he laughed loudly. From that day on I have seen him every year and my last glimpse of him was on June 14, 2009. There were no questions in my mind that day and I just wanted to spend some time in his presence. But I found myself again on the hot seat. He walked in holding a walker for support and looked frail and weak. His speech was slurred and I could hardly hear him. I began by asking him who was there to be enlightened when it was clear that there was no one there. He said something which I could not decipher but then clearly asked me to read two of his recent books. After which my friend began to talk with Ramesh. He asked " Before you walked in to this room you stopped and prayed at the alter which has an idol of Rama and Sita . You are an Advaitin and i want to know if these idols have any meaning to you?" Ramesh only said :"That was an happening".
Ramesh, thank you for showing up in my life...

At the Statue

Finally, we braved the rough weather and storm threats to visit the iconic statute on the NYC waterfront. I have been here thrice and each time marvelled at the sheer size and the enormous planning and execution effort that went into creating this enduring vista for generations to enjoy.

The Bicycle Thief

This one is about the movie: The Bicycle Thief by Vittorio De Sica.
Made in 1948, this movie has been my dad’s favorite and I have heard him mention this name in my childhood. So last week, when hunting for movie DVDS at the Bridgewater Library in NJ, I spotted it and clung on to it for dear life.

The movie is set in a decrepit and seedy side of Rome and it is clear from the first frames that the movie has poverty for its backdrop. The constant crowd of miserable visitors standing for their turn at the clairvoyant’s living room is sure sign of a populace that is desparately hoping to ward off a dark future . A struggling family that sells its bed sheets to raise money for a bicycle tells you how immensely important it is to the breadwinner. The man is distraught when it is stolen and, with his son in tow, they scour the mean streets of Rome searching for it – it represents the family's only vehicle for earning a living and so the ground of their happiness. They do everything they can, turn every stone, and do things that only desperate people do when life seems to have forgotten their existence. The little boy “Bruno” who dutifully trails his father somehow senses the dad's anguish and wants to do what he can and the play of destiny positions him to keep his father from harm’s way. Bruno actually lifts the movie to an “existential” masterpiece that it is.

I notice that the movie is on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLQuSJGzR3Y&feature=related

So waste no time – have a dekko!

On Golden Pond

This is a movie that will stay with me till my last breath. It touched me as no other motion picture has. Henry Fonda and Katharine Hepburn have made this a movie to remember for a life time! I will say no more. Just get the DVD and view it. You will never ever forget it.

Conversations with Chuck Hillig and Peter Francis Dzuiban

I was lucky recently to be able to discuss my advaita questions with two renowned masters. The "interviews" happened on the NeverNotHere .com portal and I skyped in for a direct one-on-one. Those interested can listen to these talks on:
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/1956036
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/1853726
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/1853939

What the Bleep do we Know?

I found this DVD at a local Library. This is perhaps the first ever movie on the convergence of Science and Spirituality. To demonstrate this fusion, the director works on two separate themes – at one level the movie follows the life experiences of a speech challenged woman who has the artistic sensibilities and a childlike wonder for the world’s fleeting images and frames that are characteristic of a photographer and on another level the hard –fact based insights from world-renowned Psychologists , Philosophers , Thinkers , Neurologists, Anesthesiologists and Physicists are interwoven into the story. Amit Goswami, the famous Physicists is both simple and profound as he explains his “science within consciousness” paradigm.

Click here to leant more about this incredible movie

Nothing more to say...

"The feeling that I have not realized is the obstruction to realization. In fact it is already realized and there is nothing more to be realized. Otherwise, the realization will be new. If it has not existed so far, it must take place hereafter. What is born will also die." Ramana Maharshi

At Home

I walked into my home that night and felt totally at ease- everything was exactly as I had left it a year ago. It seemed like a dream scene- my father and my in-laws were sitting there and I eagerly held their hands and felt their presence with every cell in my being. I was glad to feel the firm mattress and the old familiar pillow under my head as I drifted off to sleep. The jet lag caused me to wake up at 3:00 am and I waited for the first light of dawn to see the world that was removed from my vision a year ago. We hit the jogger’s park and someone mentioned that they are seeing us after a long time- we just smiled and continued walking.

Later we went off to the vegetable market to soak in the steaming sunshine. We argued with the vendors and shaved of a few rupees- we tested to check if our negotiating skills were still intact. The Auto rickshaws passed inches away from our chappals and we did not cringe. The deaf and dumb vegetable vendor opposite the Oswal Grain store was at his place, the old man who sells garlic, the coconut seller, the old Muslim selling leather goods on the pavement were all there at their corners. I’m taking in these old familiar sights and mention this to my wife and she says that we sound as if we were dead and viewing things from a higher disembodied plane – everyone is still there , only we have been missing from the scene! Perhaps this is how our dead see us?!

It was wonderful to be back at Tirupati, my dad and a friend from New Jersey joined on the trip. It was a Saturday and the deity was dressed simply and the decorations were minimal. Even the sacred trident mark on the forehead was much smaller, thus allowing for a full view of the Lord’s eyes, which is considered auspicious.

Dad and I then travelled to the Ashram of Ramana Maharshi. An uncle from Bangalore joined us there. Early next morning I woke up to the call of peacocks. I reached the meditation hall by 5:00 am. In the dimly lit room, I could barely see the other devotees deep in meditation. As my eyes adjusted to the light I saw a life-size portrait of Maharishi placed on a couch he used to sit on. A wick lamp was burning in the corner. I grabbed a cushion and sat with my back to the wall. The mind was effortlessly absent. The peacocks were calling and a grey light slowly entered the room and the dark stone floor of the room became visible. Someone came in with a handful of flowers, place it near the Maharishi’s portrait and sat down. Later, an ashram attendant came in quietly with Sambrani incense and room was gently covered in smoke and fragrance and in the faint light of dawn it was a surreal sight.

On the second day, when I was sitting outside the Matrubhuteshwar Temple inside the ashram, looking at two peacocks dancing with their awesome feather trains opened to display their regal colours; a sadhu approached me and asked if he could drink some water from my bottle. I readily agreed. He told me that he was living on the Arunachala Hill and was visiting some 2000 temples in the State. He pulled out, from a cloth bag hung over his shoulder, a picture of Maharishi sitting on a rock with a beatific look. It was not a picture that was sold at the Ashram store and I was intrigued. I looked discretely into my pockets for some small rupee notes and saw only 100s and 500s and so let him go. As he moved away, I had a closer look and saw a 20 rupee note. I called him back and gave it to him. He accepted it and produced a Rudraksha bead from his bag and gave it to me. I refused it but he pressed it back into my hands saying it was from the Pashupatinath temple in Nepal. I asked him if I need to pay him for this but he declined and walked away. Strangely, when I was viewing the pictures I took at the ashram, I noticed one of it had a human figure and on zooming in I was amazed to see him there!

Back at Mumbai, It was time to help dad pack and leave for New Zealand. So I spent that day with him and assuaging his apprehensions. I gave him a bear hug before we left our home to the airport. Earlier I had good look at the small shrine my mother used to pray at. I even opened the old table drawers and spotted the pair of scissors mother used when she practiced her tailoring skills.

And, closer to my departure date, I visited the office where I worked for 13 years. The Asoka trees lining the main walkway were a heartwarming sight. I took the opportunity to meet everyone. The workmen in the Shipping department were delighted to see me. One of them told me that he has not met a better person. I was touched but checked myself internally for any pride that might arise- nothing came up. He said his wish was that I would like to treat me to Bengali food at his home- cooked with his own hands. I promised to do that the next time I visited Mumbai. My close friends took care of my comfort and we went to the dining room together for breakfast and lunch and the afternoon tea. A friend even brought out the Bourbon Biscuits and potato wafers that were our staple diet during the afternoon tea break! In the evening we drove off to a Club in Bandra for dinner.. I cannot remember what we talked – I can only remember the emotional moments when I felt completely one with the mood of friendship and togetherness. I came home that night knowing that as my life flows its pre-destined course, my friends will remain an integral part of my existence.

Finally, it was time to bid goodbye to Mumbai. As I sat at the new Balaji temple that day waiting for the shrine to open, I saw the young priests doing their daily chores. People do things to fill their waking time, I thought to myself. Some one was bringing in banana leaves. Some people were asking a priest when the sanctum would be opened. It was a working day and many were eager to get a glimpse of the Lord before launching into their daily activities. I noticed a thought go through my mind: Those priests inside, who were decorating the Lord before the door opens, were taking too much time – we do not want any intermediaries between us and the Lord but that is the way our religion has been structured. Rituals, Poojas, decorations, priest…all paraphernalia that has no meaning if one is connected directly to the One.

That night, at the airport, I saw a white middle-aged couple with three children of Indian origin standing in the Immigration line. The lady was consoling a 3 year old boy and the man was asking “Neha”, a girl of around 7 years, not to stray. It dawned on me that these were Indian children they had adopted. I felt a lump in my throat and my heart filled up. The same One who creates destitute children and crooked politicians who exhort one community to exterminate another also creates this couple with a broad outlook that brings them to a third world country so that they can share their love of humanity with some of its most unfortunate and neglected human beings- abandoned children, its orphans.

Homeward Bound

It is time to fly off. Today I will be traveling home to India. The week has been hectic with some really anxious moments when it seemed that everything we planned was coming apart. An immigration issue snowballed into a major crisis and everything was hanging in air. I realized that there was nothing I could do and I left it to Him. But everything resolved itself miraculously yesterday after a visit to the Immigration office and it seems like a miasma of doom has lifted off at least for now.

Here is the Kishore song that captures my mood:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEol25DMA_Q

And if you prefer Paul Simon, listen to this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6K8wfyzAJQ

April Showers bring May flowers

And finally it's April and soon it will be May- the month I make my trip to the homeland after a full year in the US of A. My dad will be glad to see me. And the irony of it is that he will be moving to New Zealand to live with my brother. And I will have to put him on a plane and send him off!

I have a lot do in in my homeland. I have planned a trip to my favourite temple at Tirupathi and also to spend some quality time with my dad at the Ramana Maharshi's ashram in Tamil Nadu. I have to meet my friends, eat the vada sambhars at my favourite eateries, meet my Guru Ramesh Balsekar... I hope my plans are not washed away by the impending monsoon season!

Sometime, living here, so far away from my people and country can seem like penal servitude! I know that the initial days will seem like a dream- the stench, the heat the cacophony on the streets will be overwhelming. Absence makes the heart grow fonder-I now also know that my very being is waiting for the day when I will smell the air of my homeland- and I expect that the first whiff will also smell of aviation fuel !

On my birthday , last week, I was thinking : What am I doing here, so far away from the people I love and the country of my birth? And then suddenly another thought asked: Why not? . The mind slowly went into a quiet mode and was at peace...

To Whom Does It Happen ?

A couple of days ago, the howl of winds outside my window startled me . A gusty wind storm was blowing. The dry leaves were dancing across the streets like sparrows do. The pine trees were swaying wildly and the window pane was quietly vibrating.

I wondered who was putting up this show and for whom! Perhaps it was only me who was looking out of the window. The trees were not bothered, the roads, the sky , the building could not care less. So why was this happening and to what effect?It occurred to me that it was only a happening - not happening to anyone.

That thought took me to another realm. Things do not happen to anyone- life, death. birth, suffering, happiness- they happen- only we take delivery unto ourselves and say it is happening to me! The wind was not blowing for anyone- it was just blowing. No one needs to be concerned since no one exists.

And , by some strange coincidence, the Zen book(Ta- Mo's teachings) I'm reading had these lines:

All that is

Can wake you

To all that is.

A sound, a word, a blow to your body, a movement.

Even a gentle breeze moving through the forest

Can point directly to the mind

This is the first skill that you employ to reach the other shore

This is the best skill that you employ to reach the other shore.

( From The Whole Heart Of Zen- by Rev. Venerable John Bright-Fey)

When loss is a gain

Last week, on Thursday, we were at a Indian Grocery store and after that I could not trace my leather gloves. It has been a severe winter and without it it was a painful task to get out in the morning to dust off the snow from my car. This was the second pair that I had lost in the last months and each costs $20- so you can imagine my upset at being stupid enough to repeat the mistake.

On Friday morning, I saw that the car windows were covered with frost but I went to work with the scrapper , wearing just the woolen gloves. Later I started the car, turned on the heater, locked the car with the engine running using a spare key and stepped back into the warmth of my home and for a cup of coffee. In ten minutes, I was on my way to work.

After parking the car in the basement I picked up my laptop bag, lunch bag, another plastic carry bag containing some winter wear and both car keys. Having pocketed the keys, I walked up to the digital employee ID scanner which opened the door to the building with a clicking sound. As I reached the door to my office, I realized that I was missing my spare key. I was distraught. I opened the door , placed my bags inside and decided to re-trace my steps to the car to see if I had dropped it en route. I prayed briefly to Ramana Maharshi’s portrait in my office and stepped out. I walked with my eyes scanning the floor- and moved out of the building’s automated door to the parking lot- no sign of the key. I opened the car door and checked everywhere. I even walked around the car and looked underneath to see if it had fallen there- no luck. At this point I realized that my key had gone missing and that I had left my ID card in my office – so I could not get into the building now! At that moment I noticed another car was parking and an Indian stepping out. I decided to following him and enter the building quietly when he opened the door with his ID. So I picked up my pace and kept very close behind him. He swiped his ID and entered while holding the door briefly for me. At the moment, in what I consider a miracle, my myopic eyes spotted the key on the dark floor. I picked it up in one smooth movement without letting the door close

Once inside the office I sat down at my desk and thanked Providence for this favor.

Later , on Saturday, my son informed me that he found my gloves behind the settee in the living room.

I new then that I had gained more than a pair of gloves or a wayward key. I regained a misplaced faith. These miracles have re-affirmed my faith in the One without the Second. I feel humbled by the experience - He took pity on me and showed me the way…

I want to conclude this with a quote from “The Little Zen Companion”:
The Way is not difficult; only there must be no wanting or not wanting.
Chao-Chou

Inclement weather in NJ

When I watch the Weather Channel, I see the Arctic cold spells in Michigan and Illinois and feel lucky! On Wednesday morning, when I woke up and peeped out I saw the gentle drift of snow flakes. Later, I stepped out, leather gloves, snow cap, snow shoes and two layers of clothing including a long coat and scrapper in hand. It feels like dusting the car off some “Atta” so the effort is not much- except when you have to clear hardened ice or snow... If you are covered up you can take it- no pain at all. You only need to be open to this new experience. I then get into the car, start the engine, turn on the heaters and step back into my home. The car gets nicely warm and cozy in 10 minutes and I drive off to work listening to Farida Khanum and Mehdi Hassan. The flakes keep coming at your windscreen and fly off the edges of the car. It is a wonderful sight. Today the temperatures are expected to be at -4 degrees Fahrenheit.

I remind myself that Change is the only constant in life and there is little use in pining for a past existence. The mind, of course, does its tricks and harks back to the wonderful times I have had with all of you, other friends and kin. I must confess that existential questions do come to my mind…. Also, life here has a different quality- we are pretty much alone and the world here seems to be built on a substratum of deep silence- as compared to the cacophony and bustle of Mumbai. That takes getting used to and now I find that I get irritated when someone speaks loudly or incessantly! So the mindless chatter on TV does not interest me and while the family is watching their favorite soap in the evening, I retire early with a book – usually I read one of the Advaita or Zen Masters and drift off to sleep, mulling over a Koan