Standing the test of time

Colours of Love
Pic Courtesy: Google Images



He cradled me in his arms. I cooed. He threw me up in the air. I laughed. I knew he would catch me; never let me fall. On result day, he never returned home without a bar of Cadbury for me. I waited for him, for my most prized treat. He would willingly loose those Sunday afternoon Scrabble games. I broke into a war dance of victory. He watched the news with rapt attention. I imitated, not making head or tail of the reportage. He listened to old, slow, soft and somewhat melancholy melodies. I ruthlessly remixed and sang them in some self-composed high octane. He would laugh at my silly attics. I ran up to him with my henna adorned hands and feet. He smiled indulgently. To the world, I was bride-to-be. For us, I was still his little girl. Daddy. The first man in my life. The man I was in love with even before I knew what love meant. The man against whom I measure every other man who makes his way into my life, even today. As with every relationship, even in this one, there comes a point of intense realization. I found mine after 28 years... I was heavily pregnant. 8 months to be precise. Excited about the newest addition to the family, nervous about the added responsibility and scared of labor... I remember the day so vividly. The beeline of visitors had left. I enjoyed all the attention and the lip smacking delicacies they got for me, but the socializing had left me exhausted. Finally there was only mum, dad and me at home. Dad had a dry cough and while his throat irritated him, the incessant coughing bugged me. I turned on my left and lay on the sofa. Dad sat on the sofa beside me and gently patted my head. It’s a seemingly simple act but the love and warmth that emanated from it was so intense. I suddenly felt peaceful and cared for. It's true. Sometimes a million words cannot do what one touch can. That evening I felt that touch. I felt the love in its purest form. It touched me for sure, tugged the strings of my heart. But it also reached the little one growing inside me. A love that passes down generations. A love, which, like platinum will stand the test of time.

****

The second man in my life... One with whom I share childhood memories and grown up dreams. We grew up playing pranks, sharing jokes, fighting with each other... Sometimes, we were all set to slit each other's throat. Yet, one wouldn't last without the other. It's what most brother-sister relationships are like. For me, he is a brother to fight for and to fight with. Mum says, when he was born, I was the first one to hold him. Ever since, I've been fiercely protective of him. He knows all my secrets; I think I know his too. He is all grown up yet he is my little brother for me. 2 years 3 months ago when I got busy shopping for him and packing his bags, I was proud... My brother was going abroad to study. With a 3 month old incorrigible infant in my arms, I smiled and managed to do my bit to make his trip comfortable. Life moved fast, there was no time for whispering advice or sharing some quiet time with him. Yet, when he took his step outside the door on that night of August 15, I felt a surge of emotion, a pang of pain in the depth of my heart. He was going far away. Until then, I was the one who went from home. This was the first time he would go, and that too across 7 seas. When would I see him next? How would he manage? What if he needed something? Yes, we have a huge family where he is, but still my brother is 'my brother'. At that midnight hour, love raised its hood for the infinite time and showed me again, that he is a friend to the spirit, a gift to the heart and a platinum thread to the meaning of life.

****

Life is amazing. The way it works, brings people together and the way loves meanders its way through, weaving us into a relationship. Some years ago, this man walked into my life. It wasn't exactly like waves go dashing into each other or like new blossoms touch each other and spread wild fragrance. It was like meeting just about anyone else... may be at work or a party. Never once did expect my heart to do a cart wheel… and to that effect I was right. I didn’t shy, didn’t blush, no super-fast heart beats… just nothing to bring an indication of what was to come. And then, within a few minutes, a relationship was formed, a bond set and a new phase of life opened. It opened quiet so fast that I couldn’t exactly figure what was happening, except that I was smiling all the time, spent very less time at home, had no inclination to work, wrote innumerable emails and then somewhere down the line, said the three magical words… and even when we exchanged those, it wasn’t like a hurricane of emotions… but was more of a solid grounded feeling; like I would have said it sometime sooner or later. It was his birthday and I had lined up many surprises for him. Late that night I got him to drive half way to a jungle, he of course had no clue where the destination was. His eyes gleamed with joy when we drove into the beautifully landscaped resort. We checked in and walked hand in hand. Inhibitions, fear, shyness had long made their way out of our lives... On that star studded night, walking on a cobbled pathway below a canopy of trees, the moonlight pierced through the thicket and illuminated our path. A whiff of breeze brought with it the heady scent of rose and love filled the air. It was serene, calm, beautiful and romantic. We were at peace. When I suddenly picked up a ruffle behind me, at that late hour, in that deserted place, the noise scared me and I clung on him. He turned back and put his arm around my shoulder. It was reassuring. There was a truth in his eye that said he would never leave me. The touch of his hand said it would hold me if ever I fall. We shared an eye lock, saw each other's souls and were swept by a strong torrent of emotions… emotions of love, of longing, of adoration for each other. Unspoken words made promises of sharing our lives, of sharing togetherness, of being there for each other. We had found the love we yearned for... As precious as platinum, as pure as it too.

****

Every relationship has its day of love. A moment of realization of the love so deep and pure. I found mine over and over again in these three relationships... Each as pure and true as the other. My platinum day of love with the three most important men in my life... I wouldn't last a day without you!

PS. My post for the Platinum Day of Love Contest by www.indiblogger.in.

Power of positive

Image courtesy: Google Images :)

A million smiles, warm sunshine, a beacon of hope, the ability to transform tears to joy… what else is the power of positive but to touch lives, alter its very course, to bring a spring in each step, house joy in each heart, spread happiness, instill confidence, create an agile and alert mind and give life a new dimension. Positivity- a force, a tornado that can catch you unawares, sweep you off your feet, and land you in a place never thought of. Being as powerful as it is, the journey riding high on positivity can be fraught with immense power, speed and sometimes mind boggling events… yet, the destination is as beautiful as beautiful can be.

Like it does to every single person on this planet, positivity came knocking at my door too. I barely creaked open the door and life has never been the same ever after. Positive thinking has been a mantra in our household… we’ve always believed that if you want something with all your heart, the entire universe conspires to make it happen- a thought that gained firm roots when I saw it work in my own life. It was 12 years ago on a warm summer evening, that this mantra was questioned, shaken and stirred by the raw energy and untamed force called positivity. “Eliminate the cause, the very root of negativity in us. Instead of rubbing the mind with a positive thought, go deep into yourself through the breath, through meditation, and cleaning the system,” He said. I never understood; lesser still did I want to implement. Yet, a mystic force kept me enraptured and the teachings found a way to weave themselves into my life.

Around me I saw visible transformations, street side goons turning into compassionate people, militants laying down arms, drug addicts turning a new leaf without the need of counselling or de-addiction centers and many more wanting to spread the smiles. I gaped in awe as I saw life gaining a new meaning for millions. Through it all, I was blissfully unaware of the makeover happening inside of me. I never really worked towards eliminating the root cause of the negative, yet, years of curdled stresses, fears and tensions were slowly and steadily making their way out of my system. I was smiling more, believing more, fretting less, more composed and definitely felt a peace pervade my very being. Then one day, the dark clouds of gloom made their way into my life, bright student I was, but I had hadn't cleared a few exams. The first time in my life I encountered failure so harsh that I was on the verge of losing a year at college (and that’s almost criminal in the society I was brought up in).

In that moment, I introspected, looked back at my life and saw the transformation… here I was, in a situation where life as I knew it was shattered and all seemed lost. I, however, was far from flustered and depressed. I didn't fervently rub a positive thought in my mind, I just knew that I would be taken care of, that eventually all would fall in place. Here was the transformation in me… it wasn't just about thinking positive, it was about being positive and unknowingly that’s what I had become. At that moment I realized that positive was a force like none other, a force so powerful and unstoppable that you simply had to bow down and let it take charge of your life…

Positive had the power to root out insecurities from deep within, positive had the power to spread sunshine, positive had to the power to gift me an unshakable smile, positive had the power to uncover  itself in its glorious, shining armour within me… positive was the power my guru exuded. Positive was what my Master made me…

Pranaams at the lotus feet of my Master, HH Sri SriRavishankar ji.

Happy travellers ...

We've been smitten by the travel bug. Wanderlust has long taken over us. We can pack suitcases in a jiffy; have a knack of picking up bits and pieces of the local lingo; strike fantastic bargains at flea markets while taking in the sights and sounds of all places new. Essentially we take to the skies at every given opportunity. That's how we are, as a family- ready to undertake a yatra, explore the unexplored, search for soul, see the unseen, connect with people, wipe out boundaries and experience the world as one family. And so, when the festivals came along, bringing with them an extra-long weekend, we simply couldn't let the holiday season go by without packing the suitcases. We huddled in discussion- where should we head out for a dream vacation?

It’s been on our mind to explore our homeland, India, so we simply struck off international holidays. At any rate, a mere 4 day international holiday wouldn't satiate our greedy eyes which love to feast on new sights. It's the onset of the monsoon, the earth bathed in its virgin beauty and heady petrichor spell magic. We ran through our individual travel bucket lists and boarded many flights of fantasy. We bummed around on the beaches of Orissa and Tamil Nadu, ambled about in isolated island caves in Andaman, trekked up the Western Ghats in Karnataka and Maharashtra and ogled at the marvellous Brahmaputra. We soon figured that we wanted to go everywhere, there was simply so much to see and do.

That's us wanting to go here & there and everywhere!
(Pic courtesy: www.google.com)

 

That's when mummy intervened. She brings in a semblance of normalcy when we go over board and is our guiding light in moments of madness (both good and bad). She is the devout type and so when she spoke about Shrava masa, (the holy month of Shravana peppered with numerous festivals) we weren't sure where this was headed. Our travel hopes were going to be dashed with the impending festivals, we thought, when she broke the good news. "How about we all go to Kashi," she said. She beamed, thinking about getting darshan of Kashi Vishwanath ji, S smiled at the aromas of heavenly food wafted into his nostrils and his stomach growled at the mere thought of the place, images of intricately designed, opulent Banarasi sarees rustled in my minds eyes. Together we dreamed of sitting at the banks of Ganga ji and setting lamps afloat. How could we say no to multifaceted Varanasi? We jumped at the idea. Kashi it was. We were going to Kashi!

I have children at home, a 2 year old tornado of a toddler and a 7 month old inexhaustible infant. They are quite a handful, to be honest. Top that with household chores and the million other things a work-from-home mom has to do, you'll know that I have my plate topped up. And so, I did what motherhood has taught me to, place a call, order online, basically delegate the hard work to someone who does it willingly and does it well. It's the best way to be stress free and happy. I was clear, I wanted to a happy traveller, not worried about travel, stay and food and so, as always, I reached out to yatra.com. They are proficient, the yatra people. All it took was a 5 minute phone call to plan and book our trip; within a jiffy, in my mailbox sat our flight tickets to Varanasi (Kashi), cab details and hotel booking confirmation. Now, all I needed to do was pack and get ready.

A hassle free vacation is a happy vacation, for sure. But what adds zing to the zest are those special moments that stay etched in memory forever as smiles you can't forget. Our vacation started exactly like that. Having seated belted ourselves and ear plugged the seeping children, the flight had just moved onto the runway of the Bangalore International Airport, when a dhoti clad, red and white chequered gamcha donning grandpa cleared his throat and chanted a loud jaikara, "Har Har Mahadev!". His family and travel companions accompanied him in this chant and a smile spread across many lips. My almost asleep daughter joined in the jaikara complete with throwing her hands up in the air. Our vacation cum pilgrimage had begun.

At touch down, there was a cab waiting for us at the airport. Driving through the ancient temple town and epicentre of Hindusim, it seemed we'd entered an era unknown. We were so taken in by the mysticism of the place that when we walked into a plush 4 star hotel, we were pleasantly surprised. Even as we were settling in, Varanasi showed us that in it, opposites and extremes co-exist.

Holy mantras reverberated in the air; we soaked in all the good vibes as we walked towards the earthly abode of Lord Shiva, the Kashi Vishwanath temple. Every Hindu worth his salt knows about the temple and its significance in the scriptures. So, finding a beeline of devotes and faithful’s that too in the month of Sharavan, dedicated to Lord Shiva, came as no surprise. What caught our attention however was the number of foreigners who stood outside the temple gazing longingly, some even with a hint of reverence. One of them walked up to us, looking at the kids, said, "you are so lucky to be here, this is the birth place of Om." Not like we needed affirmation from elsewhere but hearing that made us feel so good. As we inched closer to the sanctum sanctorum, the hustle bustle of activity increased, the jaikaras got louder as did the pushes and shoves. In the few seconds we got in front of the jyotirlinga, time came to a standstill. Yes, we were jostled. Sure, people were chanting praises of The Lord of all worlds. Some of the offerings of bilwa patra and Ganga jal even found their way on our hands and head. Yet, waves of peace and clam overtook us. From all the sights and sounds outside we were inexplicably drawn inwards. Shiva made his presence felt in our own hearts. In that moment, we felt light as a feather, free of limitations and bondage, innocent, complete and happy.

A few steps away from the temple, the scene changed, as did the mood. Myriad lanes abuzz with outlets selling novelty knick-knacks, tourists bargaining, loudspeakers blaring the latest Shiv bhajans, the aroma of deep fried sweets and savouries wafting from small eateries... everything to titillate and appease the senses. After gorging on lip smacking chaat and delightfully decadent rabari, we topped it off with a special thandai. They say, bhajan aur bhojan main sharmana nahi chahiye and we followed that to the last letter. Who could be happier than a well fed Brahmin who has just had darshan of the divine? Almost in answer to that thought, we put down our kulhars (traditional handless, unpainted, unglazed terracotta cups) and saw 4 of us sporting thin white moustaches. With a belly full of giggles we walked on to drown ourselves in the opulence of the finest sarees in this world- Baneras silk sarees.

Sitting at the Dashashwamedh ghat under a star studded sky setting sail leaf boats with small ghee lit lamps, was a deeply spiritual experience. The sight of mother Ganga has an over powering effect, the millions of brightly lit lamps floating along her waters seemed like sparkling diamonds on her veil as she meandered through the city. Her waters have a deeply cleansing effect, washing away our sins and carrying a message of hope and purity. Sitting there late into the night, feeling the cool breeze against our face, staring at the full moon and sparkling stars and hearing the celestial sound 'Om' in her waters was akin to finding a lost treasure.
 

 

As we took the cab to visit nearby places, a sight greeted us at the doorway to Kashi. It is a memory like none other; one that left us with tears in our eyes and a smile on our lips. Entering the city was a funeral procession and followed closely by a wedding party. Both adorned with flowers, loud music and an entire entourage. Once again, the all-encompassing nature of this sacred city was revealed. A place where people want to be born, a place where people hope to breathe their last. Be as indifferent to it as you may like, but the vibrations of the city are different. A place where hundreds of thousands of people across faith, age and many other differences come together and speak the language of prayer.

What could possibly make anyone happier than to see, that no matter how filthy the lanes of the city have become, the hearts of its inhabitants are clean. No matter how contradictory it may seem, the opposites peacefully co-exist here. And while deep into the night there are stories of people going high on drugs, one can see people intoxicated in devotion all day long. Spending time in Kashi is like living through millions of magical moments strung together on a river bed of belief, love and hope. So lost was I in the mysticism and history of Kashi that had it not been for yatra.com, I would probably never gotten back in time or even worse simply not lost myself enough in the wonders of the place while dealing with logistical issues. As usual, yatra.com had fulfilled its promise of creating happy travellers on a happy holiday.

We got back to the buzz of Bangalore. Back to office deadlines, long hours at the computer screen and of course steaming hot idlis. But we never really got back from Kashi, cause the city in all its glory resides in our heart and the Kashi yatra will be looked forward to over and over again.

PS. This post is my entry to 'Creating Happy Travellers’ contest conducted by IndiBlogger and Yatra.com under the topic: If you could take your family or friends to any place on the planet, where would that be and how would you make your trip the happiest one ever?

Not so verbose me :)

One fine day, a rather verbose me decided to try something new... twitter fiction. Tell a story in not more than 140 characters... a single tweet story. Much to my own amazement, I actually managed! and whats more, I even won the first place in the Word Weavers 2013 Contest... Yippee!!!

Here's what I dished out... and now, I look forward to your comments!

Twitter Fiction (Pic courtesy: The Guardian)

• Grief- death. Gain- property division. Hers- discarded utensils. Fate she thought. Silver shone through on washing them. Fate she laughed!              
• A deep look at all sights & sounds familiar. A long breath. Once inside those magnetic doors, he would fly across many seas to a new life.                    
• She had beauty & bounty- like summer clouds. Her sister had neither. Her kids like dark rain clouds, showered love & joy on all.                                             
• They had the gems. We had the skill. The jewels glittered & blinded morality from their heart. All was well until human nature meddled.                                  
• A ear piercing scream. A wail. A blur of activity. Million watt smiles. Boxes of sweets. A new life was born. 

Hop on & sit back!

2 years is a lot of time. Well, that depends on how you perceive it. Sometimes it moves grudgingly, dragging its heavy iron clad feet and yet sometimes it fleets away like a bouncing spring cloud in a gust of breeze. Life assumes many shapes; in my case it went from heavily convex to an attempt at plaining out- to heavily convex again and now, a frantic attempt at flattening itself straight. Life gives in abundance; for me it packed many gifts in 2 pocket sized bundles- Shivapriya & Guruprasad. Life takes back; from me it ruthlessly & hastily snatched away Dad; taking him back to the source and leaving us incomplete. Life teaches us all the way, I'll start with midnight snacking and move on to an uncanny, uncharasteristicly clam demeanour titled patience.

Well, to cut a long story short, there has been a flood under the bridge since I spoke to you all last. So much so, that I could write many novellas just based on what I've seen and been through over the last 2 years. While I was caught up in this madness, there has been a part of me left untended to, ignored but definitely not forgotten- this blog- which unfortunately wasn't able to keep pace with what life had thrown me into. Now, however, I am back with a vengeance. Am back to make you laugh & cry, to take you on my little escapades, to entertain you, to enthral you, to journey with you on this voyage of self discovery.

So, hop on... Let the adventures restart!

Blast from the past

Drifting away into never never land right after lunch while Geography ma'am would drone about crops grown in various continents. Snatching a bite from your classmates lunch box, especially when seated at the famed back benches. Passing chits around the classroom. Memories of many more such school time mischiefs bring a smile on our faces. However, what really made me smile today was the memory of a poem we learnt at school. Little did I think that remembering something I studied at school would give me such pleasure... Here is what brought the smile...

“Nav Kiran ka Raath saja hai
Kali kusum se path saja hai
Badalon se aanucharon ne,swarn ki poosak dhari
Aa rahi Ravi ki sawari

Vihag bandi aur charan
Ga rahe kirti gayan
Chood kar maidan bhagi, Tarkoon ki fauj saari
Aa rahi Ravi ki sawari

Chahata uchloon vijay kah
Par thithakta dekh kar yeh
Raat ka raja khada hai, rah par ban kar bhikhari
Aa rahi Ravi ki sawari”

What a wonderful poem by Sri Harivansh Rai Bachchan ji. I've always been inspired by his writing- extremely empowering, profoundly deep thoughts, fantastic language, brilliant meter and rhythm. :)

While I relive in the memories of this poem and many more... you feast your literary senses :)

Tera Main...

Bangalore in the month of May, over a decade ago. A cobbled winding pathway guarded by lush green trees in full bloom. The silver of the moonlight meandering and finding it's way through the thick canopy. A cool breeze bringing with it the smell of damp soil. About 50 people dressed in crisp whites standing on either side of the pathway holding candles. A sense of anticipation, peace, excitement and joy in the air. A smile on every face and a song on each lip. Even as my eyes feasted on this sight (something that even personalized private paid holidays cant always create) I saw a petite figure in flowing white robes glide along the path, we were standing. There was a smile for everyone, a pat, some flowers and love that was freely oozing for all to soak into. The whole event lasted no more than 2 minutes, but left a lasting and deep impression in my heart.

The silence of the night was quickly broken as the group jolted to follow the man in white flowing robes, with a twinkle in his eyes and smile on his lips... I was in all senses an outsider (it was my first time at that place and with these people in white) but something inside me propelled me to join the group into the hall. It was the first time that I had stumbled across the phenomenon known as Sri Sri Ravi Shankar and little did I know that I was soon to be swept off my feet straight into a whirlwind of knowledge, love and life.

Read the rest of my post on The South Reports. Await your comments and views :) 

Played out Live

(This is my first attempt at short story writing... wrote this a while ago but posted it only now. Would love to hear from you about this attempt)

She was wailing outside; she and the rest of the women in the neighborhood. He heard the cameras flash- the 3rd time in 3 months. He was sick of it. He had participated in the drama playing out on Television sets twice before- hoping that someone would hear. He had enough of this. He would not go out. He wasn’t the only one, those news hounds would find many like him in the neighborhood. Yet they kept coming back to him- he was the only English speaking person in the village. They needed him.

The wounds were still fresh. Tears would well up naturally. But his grief was his own. He wouldn’t let this become entertainment for others. It was about 5 years ago, yet he remembered it like it was yesterday. He was 15 yr old - his father had taken another wife- his step mother, young and beautiful- less than half his father’s age. Not that the old man was a lecher, but he needed the money- dowry was the only way he could make up for all that he had drowned in illicit liquor desi daru. Habit could be a life taker he realized, when his father couldn’t stay away from alcohol in spite of the young and beautiful wife. Only last month, his father had gone out to have his evening drink- the draught notwithstanding, their little savings were lavishly given away at the local wine shop. He never came back. The next morning, the health officials found out that the liquor was contaminated. 40 men (over half the earning population of the village) had succumbed. Ever since, the media onslaught had only increased.

It had been a month. He had moved on. It wasn’t only about his father’s death. This year, mother earth had been cruel. No rains, no water, only dry barren and parched land; tilled land that couldn’t be sowed. He knocked on every door possible to get some help- some water. If this crop failed, he was doomed. The family was doomed. If they couldn’t repay the landlord, life as they knew it would crumble. He only wished that they women in the neighborhood used their endless tears to water the fields instead of entertain the camera. But he knew better.

He beat his hands against the faded blue wall of the only bedroom in their home. Then, almost as a revelation, he knew what he needed to do to stop the impending disaster. He knew this plan wouldn’t fail. The media would get their meat. His family would get the money. His sister could get married and not be ravaged. All would be right. With a smile, almost of relief, he opened the door and walked past the media and the chest beating women. He walked into the empty granary. 2 hours later when he didn’t walk out, the women went to check on him and found him lying on the floor, convulsed in pain. He knew he didn’t have time. Consuming the pesticide was fatal. He knew that the consequence of this last action would bring relief and solace to his family- he smiled and whispered in a raspy voice “farmer suicide…. Draught…. government… Compen…ssaaaaa….tion.” Then, with a gasp that betrayed the trauma and distress he had been through he lay peacefully in deaths powerful grasp.

Love n Life

Even if love knew bounds
I'd live unconstrained
Even if the wind knew direction
I'd live unconditional
Even if the sun knew limitation
I'd live to the fullest
And even if God exercised distrection
I'd love you beyond imgination...

Let there be light!!!

A special Diwali message from His Holiness Sri Sri Ravi Shankar ji: -

Hearty Diwali greetings to all of you. Diwali is the festival of light. Light signifies wisdom. We need to globalize wisdom today. People of various cultures, religions and nationalities will have to come together and realize we are a part of one human family. Let us on this auspicious occasion of Diwali resolve to spread peace, to unite people in love and celebration and to bring prosperity in society. This is the occasion to let go of all past bickerings and misunderstandings and once again come together in a spirit of celebration.

All the best to everyone of you.

Nothing of Nothing

A change has come upon me
a peace and quiet descended
No troubled waters, no hurricane
a joy with enthusiasm blended.

I can’t quiet say what’s happening
what’s happened or what will
A blissful peace has found its place
in creations mundane drill

Every curve, every contour, every breath
is so perfect
The silence has found its way
to the deepest depth

Nothing seems important now
nothing needs less respect
A nothing seems to have filled me
till nothing of nothing is left...

Me

The strength of a woman with the grace she deserves
The levelheadedness of a man with the ambition he aspires

The innocence of childhood with the laughter of that image
The flamboyance of youth with the respect of age

The pictures that you see beholds me in its frame
A vibrant character in life's massive game...

How to succeed in business: Meditate

Stumbled upon this fantastic piece in the Fortune Magazine... its old, but worth a read...

With hellish hours and info overload now the norm, the C-Suite set is turning to extreme meditation to cope, says Fortune's Oliver Ryan.

By Oliver Ryan, Fortune writer-reporter

July 20 2007: 9:05 AM EDT (Fortune Magazine) –

The crowd of Harvard Business School alums who gathered at their reunion to hear networking expert Keith Ferrazzi speak earlier this summer might have expected to pick up strategies on how to work a room, remember people's names, or identify mentors. But tactical skills, it turns out, aren't what turned Ferrazzi into a bestselling author or sought-after speaker.

Instead Ferrazzi let his fellow alums in on a little secret. The key to connecting, he told the group, is "not being an a**hole." And the most effective path he's found? Meditation. Exercise and prayer work too, he said, but meditation has been so effective that he now spends ten days every year at a silent meditation retreat. In other words, the man whose latest book is "Never Eat Alone" credits much of his success to alone time.

Meditation has been around for thousands of years, but not so long ago extended retreats or programs that banned speech were reserved for aging rock stars or college students on the ten-year plan. And while the practice isn't exactly mainstream in corporate America, more and more executives are open to anything that might help them thrive in - or temporarily disconnect from - today's BlackBerry-addled ADD business climate.

Meditation devotees include junk-bond-king-turned-philanthropist Mike Milken; Bill George, the former Medtronic (Charts, Fortune 500) CEO; ad industry mogul Renetta McCann; and NBA coach Phil Jackson. Silicon Valley is full of meditators, such as Marc Benioff, the CEO of Salesforce.com (Charts), and Larry Brilliant, head of Google's philanthropic efforts. Naturally, a crew of Google (Charts, Fortune 500) employees has organized twice-weekly open meditation hours, at which it has hosted Tibetan monks and a team of mind-science researchers.

C-Suite strategies

Particularly hard-core is Bob Shapiro, the former CEO of Monsanto (Charts, Fortune 500), who has done three ten-day silent retreats and is considering a 30-day tour. He must certainly be the first person to serve simultaneously on the boards of the New York Stock Exchange and the Center for the Contemplative Mind in Society.

Shapiro says that meditation has improved his ability to listen and to think creatively - and there's an increasing amount of scientific evidence to back that up. Dr. Richard Davidson of the University of Wisconsin at Madison has, among other experiments, used cranial electrodes and MRI scans to study Tibetan monks on loan from the Dalai Lama. His basic finding: The brain functioning of serious meditators is "profoundly different" from that of nonmeditators - in ways that suggest an elevated capacity to concentrate and to manage emotions. He calls meditation a "kind of mental training."

The retreat, however, is only the start. Back home, students are advised to meditate twice a day. Shapiro admits he struggles to find the time, but he also notes an old saying: "If you can't spend half an hour meditating, you need an hour."

Piecing the Jigsaw

The prospect of living my individuality has always excited me. Painting my life with vivid streaks of my unique personality has been my most cherished dream. As a schoolgirl, I was perennially in awe of the strong, the bold, the fabulous, the rebel and the recluse. At 18, the threshold of a new life, I essentially wanted to be, a bit of all of these. A fabulous girl, rebel at heart, strong in the mind, bold in action and a recluse to the core. After my class 12 board exam and an unsuccessful attempt at making it into the country’s premier law institute, I thought that the dream to live my life-my way, was all but shattered. To cut a long story short, I realized like everyone does, that every cloud has a silver lining. To my amazement, the unfortunate events of the past had actually opened the door to a new life for me. The depressions of the recent past forgotten, I marched forward, to begin life in a hostel, in a different city far away from home!

The train chugged in on the platform bringing me to my destination- Pune. It’s just a 22 hour journey from Bangalore, not much actually. Yet, with this journey, life as I knew it- changed- now and forever! My new life at the ILS Law College breathed of my individuality, within the framework of the Paying Guest rules. From figuring out breakfast to what to wear- each day was topped with decisions I had to make. Mind you! I came from a school, where uniforms complete with the name badges were the norm even in class 11 and 12. If that wasn’t enough, I had a lovingly overprotective family which made most decisions in my best interests.

Soon enough though, everything was under my control- including the weekly call made back home. I was running my own life, on the modest monthly allowance given by my father. But I swelled in pride when I was budgeting and shopping. The weekly toilet cleaning, the hanging and picking of washed and dried clothes was stuff that I didn’t particularly enjoy doing. The rest, I did smiling and happy with many a song on my lips. Hostel life with its myriad experiences was enthralling to say the least.

It was one such rather busy day. We had Morning College so that gave me most afternoons free to research for various college activities or just enjoy an idyllic evening. That July afternoon, I didn’t feel like anything particularly. So, I decided to give the library and reading room a skip. I headed straight to my room. Dark clouds loomed large and thunder threatened to replace itself with huge water droplets. Hopping into one of those 6 seater autorickshwas, that Pune boasts of in plenty, I scurried back. It was a short walk from the auto stand to my room. Plenty of small eateries also known as the tapries, dotted the walk and of course, many grandpa gulmohar trees provided shade. The rain gods were exceptionally pleased that day. Knowing my love for them, descended in all their might and left me drench to the bone.

I scampered into my room and quickly changed into fresh clothes. I later opened my room door to view the small veranda and tall canopy of trees beyond. I’ve always loved the rains and the earthy smell of fresh, wet mud. This time, however, as I sat at the doorstep of my PG accommodation and gazed out, memories of home came flooding into my heart.

My brother and I would return from school drenched in the rains and splashed with slush, in spite of our raincoats. Mummy would frown disapprovingly but hand us fresh towels, nonetheless. Once we’d changed, a warm cup of milk and some pakodas or fried nuts would greet us. Anyone who has lived in Bangalore knows that when it rains in Bangalore it pours. The joy of a hot cuppa in the cool monsoon breeze with a few stray droplets dashing against your skin… aahhh Heaven!!! Here I was in Pune looking at the raindrops slid down the leaves of the jasmine and seep into the earth. Mummy wasn’t around to hand me hot milk, nor was brother around for us to jump in puddles. In that instant, I don’t think there was anyone lonelier than me. My heart ached for the familiar sights and smells of home. Just the thought of making me a cup of steaming hot soup seemed demanding. I felt a warm fluid run down my face… I was glad it was raining so no one knew if the trickle was tears or rain drops.

Later that evening, I called home- it was time for that weekly call anyway. I had overcome the emotion of that afternoon and life seemed to have reverted to normal gear once again. I said ‘hello’ like I always did- the first question I heard my mother ask me was if I was ok. She said I didn’t sound alright. At that moment, the shoddy job that I had done, of putting my heart together, came apart. I didn’t say much, but I heard. I heard a lot of things that went unsaid. I heard my heart say all those little things that had been locked away.

In my first monsoon in Pune, I realized that there was more to me behind the façade of running my own life and feeling proud about it. The strength I boasted of was not even skin deep and the individuality I craved for meant absolutely nothing. I was little more than a girl who wanted the warmth of home and her people. A child who wanted to be pampered and be part of the limelight. A grownup who still sought solace in sharing the small stories of the day. An adult who was scared of letting the torrents of time pave a new destiny. I learnt my first lessons of adult life; no matter how grown up I’ll be, there’s always a little child inside who seeks love and no matter where I look for it, there is no place like home and no support like family. No matter how harsh the trial or how deep the test, all I needed to do, is dip into that pool of unconditional love and strength that existed just for me.

That afternoon rain opened to me a new window of understanding life and the relationships we build. Here I was, young and energetic, looking forward to a new life and forging new relationships. While I did just that, what I also did was leave behind many of the old ones. With every relationship I put behind me, I lost a bit of myself on the way. Every new relationship built, showed me a newer, brighter tomorrow and a part of me, I had never known. Yet, when someday, like this rainy afternoon, I needed to piece the jigsaw together; I needed not just the new pieces, but the old ones as well.

We are what we eat

It’s a story that has always fascinated me. A story in the Upanishad’s (ancient spiritual texts) which talks about a young boy asking his Guru (Spiritual Master) ‘What is brahaman?’ to which the Guru responds saying, ‘Anna Brahama’. Undoubting, the little boy goes and meditates upon this answer given by the Guru. The story goes on to say that, 4 more such one line answers later, the boy finally achieves enlightenment. The spirituality of the whole story besides, just that food can be equated with God or Godliness was something that amazed me. So, I decided to explore and experiment.

Being the foodie that I am, I loved this experiment. I ate different kinds of food on different days and saw what it did to my mind and body. Ate spicy stuff and saw my mood swing, ate stale food and saw my mind plummet, ate raw vegetables and saw energy spurts. After a couple of months of experimenting, I started observing others and seeing what food did to them. The results were startlingly similar to what I had experienced when performing the experiment on myself.

Read the rest of my post at www.n-zine.com/2010/09/we-are-what-we-eat.html

Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans...

I recieved this in an email forward... This one truly deserves a read... Hope this lifestyle/attitude culture moves forward - even if slowly.Don't know who the author is, but as long as the message gets conveyed, it doesn't matter......

It's been 18 years since I joined Volvo, a Swedish company. Working for them has proven to be an interesting experience. Any project here takes 2 years to be finalized, even if the idea is simple and brilliant. It's a rule.

Globalized processes have caused in us (all over the world) a general sense of searching for immediate results.. Therefore, we have come to possess a need to see immediate results. This contrasts greatly with the slow movements of the Swedish. They, on the other hand, debate, debate, debate, hold x quantity of meetings and work with a slowdown scheme. At the end, this always yields better results.

1. Sweden has 2 million inhabitants.

2. Stockholm has 500,000 people.

3. Volvo, Escania, Ericsson, Electrolux, are some of its renowned companies. Volvo even supplies NASA.

The first time I was in Sweden , one of my colleagues picked me up at the hotel every morning. It was September, bit cold and snowy. We would arrive early at the company and he would park far away from the entrance (2000 employees drive their car to work).

The first day, I didn't say anything, neither the second or third days. One morning I asked him, "Do you have a fixed parking space? I've noticed we park far from the entrance even when there are no other cars in the lot."

To which he replied, "Since we're here early we'll have time to walk, don't you think that whoever gets in late will need a place closer to the door?" Imagine my face.

Now-a-days, there's a movement in the world named Slow Food. This movement establishes that people should eat and drink slowly, with enough time to taste their food, spend time with the family, friends, without rushing. Slow Food is against its counterpart, Fast Food and what it stands for as a lifestyle. Slow Food is the basis for a bigger movement called Slow Down.

Basically, the movement questions the sense of "hurry" and "craziness" generated by globalization, fuelled by the desire of "having in quantity" (life status) versus "having with quality", "life quality" or the "quality of being".

French people, even though they work 35 hours per week, are more productive than Americans or British. Germans have established 28.8 hour workweeks and have seen their productivity driven up by 20%..

This slow attitude has come to the notice of USA , the pupils of the fast and "do it now" brigade.

This no-rush attitude doesn't represent doing less or having a lower productivity. It means working and doing things with greater quality, productivity, perfection, with attention to detail and less stress. It means re-establishing family values, friends, free and leisure time. Taking the "now", present and concrete, versus the "global", undefined and anonymous. It means taking humans' essential values, the simplicity of living. It stands for a less coercive work environment, more happy, lighter and more productive work place where humans enjoy doing what they know best how to do.

It's time to stop and think on how companies need to develop serious quality with no-rush that will increase productivity and the quality of products and services, without losing the essence.

In the movie, 'Scent of a Woman', there's a scene where Al Pacino asks a girl to dance and she replies, "I can't, my boyfriend will be here any minute now."

To which Al Pacino responds, "A life is lived in an instant."

Then they dance the tango!

Many of us live our lives running behind time, but we only reach it when we die of a heart attack or in a car accident rushing to be on time. Others are so anxious to live for the future that they forget to live the present, which is the only time that truly exists.

We all have equal time throughout the world. No one has more or less. The difference lies in how each one of us does with our time. We need to live each moment. As John Lennon said, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

Janamashtami- a new perspective

That time of the year when Nand Ghar Anand Bhayo rings loud and clear. When butter and milk and kheer are wolfed down without guilt... Yesterday and today have been days and nights of celebration. Lots of singing and dancing to celebrate the birthday of one of the most colourful Hindu God- Krishna. While we wish Lord Krishna- A very happy birthday, its also good to know what the celebrations really mean... There is much more to the Janmashtami celebrations than just fasting, dancing, singing, feasting, listening to the Bhagwat (stories of Krishna) and meditating. This piece by Gurudev Sri Sri Ravi Shankar ji gives a new perspective to the celebrations. Read on...

Janamashtami celebrates the birth of Lord Krishna. Ashtami is significant as it indicates a perfect balance between the seen and the unseen aspects of reality; the visible material world and the invisible spiritual realm.

Krishna’s birth on Ashtami signifies his mastery of both the spiritual and material worlds. He is a great teacher and a spiritual inspiration as well as the consummate politician. On one hand, he is Yogeshwara (the Lord of Yogas — the state to which every yogi aspires) while on the other, he is a thief.

The unique quality of Krishna is that he is at once more pious than the saints and yet a thorough mischief-monger! His behavior is a perfect balance of the extremes — perhaps this is why the personality of Krishna is so difficult to fathom. The avdhoot is oblivious to the world outside and a materialistic person, a politician or a king is oblivious to the spiritual world. But Krishna is both Dwarkadheesh and Yogeshwar.

Krishna’s teachings are most relevant to our times in the sense that they neither let you get lost in material pursuits nor make you completely withdrawn. They rekindle your life, from being a burnt-out and stressed personality to a more centred and dynamic one. Krishna teaches us devotion with skill. To celebrate Gokulashtami is to imbibe extremely opposite yet compatible qualities and manifest them in your own life.

Hence the most authentic way of celebrating Janamashtami is knowing that you have to play a dual role — of being a responsible human being on the planet and at the same time to realize that you are above all events, the untouched Brahman. Imbibing a bit of avadhoot and a bit of activism in your life is the real significance of celebrating Janamashtami.

 

Here's one among my many, many favorite Krishna bhajans. Click and Enjoy! 

Nand Ghar Anand Bhayo Jai Kanhiya Lal Ki! Haathi Ghoda Palakhi... Jai ho Nand Lal ki!

Nature in my backyard...

Laughter had tinkled across our classroom when in class 6 when we were taught about JC Bose and his experiments with plants. I laughed too yet, from that very evening I stealthily crept into the balcony and sang to my rose bush every day. Voila! It grew better than all the other plants in my sunny little balcony. This was amongst my best kept secrets until of course my brother caught me singing a lullaby and ridiculed me for being such a baby. It’s a vivid image- that healthy plant which I believed swayed to my cacophony. Sensing my interest in gardening, my mother and I slowly began our small kitchen garden- beans, mint, tomatoes, potatoes, carrots- you name it, we grew them. I noticed again, that if we spoke to our dear plants they grew better- healthier, yielded better produce. Not to discount the absolute necessity of good soil and great manure.

Today, many years later, I have my own small kitchen garden and am proud to say that I use no fertilizer. Just lots of good soil, plenty of sunshine, water and tons of love and great vibes- I have a rich harvest of curry leaves, mint leaves, tomatoes and many more in the pipeline… It’s a small step, but I believe it makes a difference. No fertilizers, means that the soil doesn’t get rancid and barren. It also means that I can replant and still yield a good produce (even if in a small pot). Plants in my balcony mean I am green. I am ecofriendly and in sync with the times. It’s a fashion statement in its own right and surely works to beautify my home’s interiors. Herbs that I grow mean I can garnish my cooking with well, garden fresh herbs! It also means that in case of a cold or a sore throat, I can pluck a few leaves of tulsi or holy basil, brew it in steaming water and ward away the illness. Plants in my home mean a dash of music every day, a smattering of love and lungs full of fresh air. It also means a smile on my face as I tend to nature- flourishing right in my backyard.

India's Diadem

She is exuberant to her youth, a companion to those with many a silver hair, a task mistress to the unrelenting, charming to the poet, inspiring to the artist and a goddess to the believer. She is every color in the rainbow. She is extraordinary in her ability to be a shade of everything and everyone that she houses. She is India: incredible and glorious in every aspect. She is a country of love and acceptance. She is a nation of diversity. She is a country of abundance. In that India, we live.

India! Everything from population to languages, from cuisine to costumes - is in plenty here. A country that is home to so much variety and color cannot but be a melting pot of cultures, traditions and humanity. With such vivaciousness about her, it is no mean task to identify the tiara but I believe I’ve found the biggest and brightest shining diamond - the diadem of Incredible India.

Click here to read the rest of the article...

A quest...

It’s a desire… may be a little more than that, may be a little lesser. But it’s a desire all the same. To be loved. To be sought after. To be craved for. To be the mistress. To be the slave. To be the best. To be looked up to.

A desire yes! On the face of it.

And to fulfill that desire… there are the wants… a diamond ring to outshine the rest. A curvy look to be the temptress. A table over loaded with the much sought after feast not to forget the huge pile of gifts. Wanting to please others. Wanting to be wanted. Wanting to be cared for…

Wait! Is that confusing!!! That I said was a desire… a desire to be cared for. A desire to be wanted… and also a want to be craved for… a want… a desire… a desire… a want… want... Desire. Desire Want. Want. Desire. Desire. Want…

But look beyond… actually look through it… pierce the want, look at desire. Bare its soul to you and you’ll see the truth… no desire. No want. No complimenting. No fulfilling.

Just a quest. A thirst. To feed your soul on love in its various glorious forms…

You don’t desire. You don’t want. You simply seek fulfillment and that; you look for outside of you… instead of where it really lies... buried deep within the depth of your own eyes. Like water droplets that seep into the ground and you can never separate them again… so also, our thirst for unconditional love, for bliss is part of our deepest longing… the only true desire or want that we’ve ever had is that of love- unconditional, free of all entanglements.