He stood staring at her spanish brocade window panes, still shut as though no one resided there. He stared a rosy endless stare and to his bonne chance, window panes cranked open. The most beautiful hands, belle mains appeared and tucked the hooks in the panes to broader purview. 'Cathy, God forbid, Yesterday night I dreamed .... a sinister dream... you just flang that curtain !! ', she summoned. Cathy replied,' O Madame, the grande lady of ile de re, what you dreamed is juss the shadow of the reality, something good is to happen, madame".
Fabio sighed hopely relief and it started to rain. The rain started to trickle through his hairs and soaked in his coat unless it drenched and started to drip.The sunrays blend with the rain, pesevered to his face and reflected back from his eyes. Rosera chuckled with joy, looked up to the sky and witnessed the flock of fog, seeping in the rain. Her eyelashes impregnated with dew drops, her hairs settled upto her honey breasts. Fabio rekindled the confidence and beckoned her,'Rosssera !!'. The bland voice in the lively ambiance got lost. He called her again.
Rosera, with her exponent smile, curvy eye brows settled her eyes on her beloved Fabio, 'O Cathy, the greatness happened. None days had been so beaux... So gorgeous as this..'. ' The lord of the worlds has showered so intense zephyr through my veins that I see my Fabio, the love of my life..' Fabio stood still, spell bound in the curves of his beloved. He couldn't beckon her again. Her mere presence bestowed the divinity unto him.. Unsurpassed.. The heart with joy became so free and and felt too extraneous to reside in his body... It became free of all the bondage.. As though he waited this moment his whole life ever since in prison... Rosera couldn't resist her tears down trickling and merging with the rain... Even though settled through her life and her routines.. . She couldn't never beleagour that feeling to meet him again.... Her child might have gone to new age.. But her eyes still were cherubic... childlike... seeking... thirsty... She just witnessed fabio for few moment, the moment which was her own, the essence of her very own.. and never to again ... be for her...
People screamed, ' some one died here ..O. the dead body.. ' 'Do you know who is he' 'He was here for past few hours' 'Let me call the cops..'
Cops came and took his body for examination..
Rosera still weeping with her stone eyes....
It still rained. Fog still settled on her balcony. Sunrays still seeped to her room..
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
She ... Samadhi....& Solace..
She, Samadhi and Solace
I feel pity that Vivekanda's birthday is not a national holiday. Such and more national heroes who awakened the souls not only in india but worldwide are forsaken by Indian Government on the pretext of hinduism. But nevertheless, declaring somebody's birthday as national holiday doesn't make him more important than other person. Its after all the ideology, the work, the commitments and the achievements of person that makes him venerable, de facto. I have been particularly quite enchanted by Swamiji's sayings. He talks positive. He gives you goal. He gives you power to reach the same. The best way to reach this orgasm of energy, is to witness Vivekananda's samadhi on the southern coast of India.
One fine gloaming, the sun sets with divine blush over the welkin. Red sky marrying the sea. Red beams of light dividing the sea-skin as though a majestic sword has flung open to frighten the enemy and sea is melting it as if it retains magma in place of water. Silvery sand imitates the sky and becomes red-soothing. One fine godly lady was relaxing there. Her skin red-shone with apparance of sun. Her hairs unbunned and flowing with wind, as though its not the hair but the flair of a skilled painter. She wore the dress that displayed her bosom half from the top that glistened even more with the gleaming ambience. She has wrapped herself in a fair white blanket in such a way to ostentate her bodice unpretentiously. The gloaming sun made her so bright that it belied the truth that sun made the ambience shone. She looked above in the sky, towards the welkin with unfathomable feelings. But her beauty for sure was fathomable.
Samadhi looked pretty bright and red under the welkin of gloaming sun. It symbolised the strength of mind, soul. It represented the pinnacle of meditation,'Dhyan'. I saw the samadhi beyond her neck. The pillars of samadhi seems being pecked by her chin. The floor of samadhi seems resting on her breasts. The canopy, partially covered by her face. Her eyes seems seeing the canopy for unhearkened reason. I looked beyond her. I looked beyond samadhi. It was bright sun. It was visible. It was visible to such an extent that nothing else remained visible. Neither the lady. Nor the samadhi. Just a bright sun. There remained accord. Accord with nature. Harmony with unknown. This harmony with unknown is in the seeds of embracing the known. I know the lady, I know her bodice. I know the beauty she has. I know it and I go beyond. I know the samadhi. I know the power. I know the strength of the soul. I know the samadhi and I go beyond. I find nothing but solace. I find harmony in the bosom of unknown. The unknown is beyond senses. The unknown is infinite orgasm of human-self. The path to unknown is via known. And she is the step.. first....
I feel pity that Vivekanda's birthday is not a national holiday. Such and more national heroes who awakened the souls not only in india but worldwide are forsaken by Indian Government on the pretext of hinduism. But nevertheless, declaring somebody's birthday as national holiday doesn't make him more important than other person. Its after all the ideology, the work, the commitments and the achievements of person that makes him venerable, de facto. I have been particularly quite enchanted by Swamiji's sayings. He talks positive. He gives you goal. He gives you power to reach the same. The best way to reach this orgasm of energy, is to witness Vivekananda's samadhi on the southern coast of India.
One fine gloaming, the sun sets with divine blush over the welkin. Red sky marrying the sea. Red beams of light dividing the sea-skin as though a majestic sword has flung open to frighten the enemy and sea is melting it as if it retains magma in place of water. Silvery sand imitates the sky and becomes red-soothing. One fine godly lady was relaxing there. Her skin red-shone with apparance of sun. Her hairs unbunned and flowing with wind, as though its not the hair but the flair of a skilled painter. She wore the dress that displayed her bosom half from the top that glistened even more with the gleaming ambience. She has wrapped herself in a fair white blanket in such a way to ostentate her bodice unpretentiously. The gloaming sun made her so bright that it belied the truth that sun made the ambience shone. She looked above in the sky, towards the welkin with unfathomable feelings. But her beauty for sure was fathomable.
Samadhi looked pretty bright and red under the welkin of gloaming sun. It symbolised the strength of mind, soul. It represented the pinnacle of meditation,'Dhyan'. I saw the samadhi beyond her neck. The pillars of samadhi seems being pecked by her chin. The floor of samadhi seems resting on her breasts. The canopy, partially covered by her face. Her eyes seems seeing the canopy for unhearkened reason. I looked beyond her. I looked beyond samadhi. It was bright sun. It was visible. It was visible to such an extent that nothing else remained visible. Neither the lady. Nor the samadhi. Just a bright sun. There remained accord. Accord with nature. Harmony with unknown. This harmony with unknown is in the seeds of embracing the known. I know the lady, I know her bodice. I know the beauty she has. I know it and I go beyond. I know the samadhi. I know the power. I know the strength of the soul. I know the samadhi and I go beyond. I find nothing but solace. I find harmony in the bosom of unknown. The unknown is beyond senses. The unknown is infinite orgasm of human-self. The path to unknown is via known. And she is the step.. first....
Saddam
No Ruler is without opponents. When russian communists chased and killed their opponents right from Moscow to Mexico, it didn't infuriate nobody. When pakistani military ruler General Zia hanged the democratically legitimate authoritarian of pakistan Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, No voice raised around the world. Neither did America felt it infringement of human rights or violation of democracy or annihilation of world-peace. When Mao of china routed Chiange-kai-Shek from China mainland to Taiwan, No one dared talk about equality. Why? Because these are power-games. One ruler makes laws, amends constitution to facilitate his legitimacy. Sometimes it makes it possible to suffocate their opponents, as did Stalin in 1940's. Laws of one country are not binding on nationals of other country.
Imagine A supreme court judge of India sentences some person XYZ of capital punishment. Tommorrow, some other country where capital punishment is not in the constitution, annexes India and accuses the judge of homicide because as per their law it is illegitimate. This is flaw. The same flaw is being entertained in Saddam's verdict as well. Whatever he did is part of power-game, everyone does that. Everyone kills their opponents, traitors as per the existing laws in that country, it need not conform to any international dictum. However, if such things are unacceptable to international community then a proper instrument should deviced that makes constitution of all the countries conform some basic humanitarian fundamentals. However it is preposterous to accuse someone on the basis of laws of someother country for the deeds done legitimate as per constitution of his own country.
Imagine A supreme court judge of India sentences some person XYZ of capital punishment. Tommorrow, some other country where capital punishment is not in the constitution, annexes India and accuses the judge of homicide because as per their law it is illegitimate. This is flaw. The same flaw is being entertained in Saddam's verdict as well. Whatever he did is part of power-game, everyone does that. Everyone kills their opponents, traitors as per the existing laws in that country, it need not conform to any international dictum. However, if such things are unacceptable to international community then a proper instrument should deviced that makes constitution of all the countries conform some basic humanitarian fundamentals. However it is preposterous to accuse someone on the basis of laws of someother country for the deeds done legitimate as per constitution of his own country.
World of Worlds
I was amid the vista of multicolored trees on the streets. Greenary is a misnomer for the trees in europe cuz not many trees happen to be green. They are orange, yellow, maroon and even red. The crunchy fallen leaves seemed unable to flow due to little drizzles every now and then. Alas ! They do flow with the wind sometimes. The scene is nonetheless exotic and beauty uncomparable. Occassionally when me and me-like my friend stroll towards home in evening, the streetlights are no more as if deliberately put-off by some mad naturalist, who cannot imagine glossing over even the finest and subtlest natural beauty.
The place is nevertheless alien to non-french people and english is almost extinct with exception of some young crowd and rare old population. But the universal language of symbols everyone understands. It's an interesting dumb-charade where you can't give up and the audience feel sorry for not being able to understand. The modesty and formality are the armour of french-man. They know how to eat, how to talk, how to befriend etc. but all this without a tinge of artificiality. I always thought mannerism is artificial but here I feel, mannerism is an innate nature of the individual out here.
The other language of smile and humor is nonetheless universal. Its always the best way to convey how good you feel about the others. Simplicity is yet another attribute of french-man. They are fashionable yet simple because it don't care a damn about the other. Moreover, its the higher stage of civilization when an individual doesn't bother about the other and granularity of perspective shifts from collectivistic to individualistic. On this scale, delhi is the least civilised place on this earth.
Simple but yet so uncontrolled.
'Cigerette (pronounced - cig - haaat) ', a french girl says with her eyes not meeting mine as though looking above the upper eyelids, in the desirous meditation, in the solo objective, in the insatiable thurst.
'Sorry !!, I din get'. Me replied
'Cigerette', she repeated frowning.
'No, I don't have', Me replied with no particular gesture but floating deep being in some other thought.
Life is so simple here that monotony couldn't be obviated without residing onto something off-track as drugz, cocaine or some or the other kind of obsession good or bad depending on the individual, but generally bad as it is simple to follow ( again simplicity in choosing the simple way).
Its wrong if someone says, that the world is small. Its actually very big. Each individual is one world. Each individual has one replica of the world, his own personal copy literally untarnished by other's copy. Here, Me analyzing the world of all the worlds.
The place is nevertheless alien to non-french people and english is almost extinct with exception of some young crowd and rare old population. But the universal language of symbols everyone understands. It's an interesting dumb-charade where you can't give up and the audience feel sorry for not being able to understand. The modesty and formality are the armour of french-man. They know how to eat, how to talk, how to befriend etc. but all this without a tinge of artificiality. I always thought mannerism is artificial but here I feel, mannerism is an innate nature of the individual out here.
The other language of smile and humor is nonetheless universal. Its always the best way to convey how good you feel about the others. Simplicity is yet another attribute of french-man. They are fashionable yet simple because it don't care a damn about the other. Moreover, its the higher stage of civilization when an individual doesn't bother about the other and granularity of perspective shifts from collectivistic to individualistic. On this scale, delhi is the least civilised place on this earth.
Simple but yet so uncontrolled.
'Cigerette (pronounced - cig - haaat) ', a french girl says with her eyes not meeting mine as though looking above the upper eyelids, in the desirous meditation, in the solo objective, in the insatiable thurst.
'Sorry !!, I din get'. Me replied
'Cigerette', she repeated frowning.
'No, I don't have', Me replied with no particular gesture but floating deep being in some other thought.
Life is so simple here that monotony couldn't be obviated without residing onto something off-track as drugz, cocaine or some or the other kind of obsession good or bad depending on the individual, but generally bad as it is simple to follow ( again simplicity in choosing the simple way).
Its wrong if someone says, that the world is small. Its actually very big. Each individual is one world. Each individual has one replica of the world, his own personal copy literally untarnished by other's copy. Here, Me analyzing the world of all the worlds.
Oneness with Lotus.
'twas dusky, ghostly midday of outskirts in Nantes. The bus was treading amid miniature hills and hillocks. I kissed the lotus. The lotus looked upto the sun, that wasn't there. The sky seemed about to drip. It was neither pain nor pleasure, just pure serenity. It was dead day of christmas when all roads were with rare vehicles and still rarer human beings. Still I managed to find the rarest secluse where I could sit and appreciate the presence of Lotus. The lotus was alive. Her soul was lively. The caress was gentle and beatific. I kept looking in her eyes. She didn't understand, what me upto. But I knew, 'twas the one-ness with her that now she's indispensable for me. She didn't knew her eyes were the one - unfathomable where I could deepen eons and eons. She didn't knew her touch reminds me of the eternal One, the supernal harmony. She didn't knew her hairs reminds me of the great bliss as though I am on the highness of the clouds. The wind that ran through us. The hatred. The apathy. Torn the lotus petals and left me forlorn. In the end, the journey outside ends and the journey inside begins. The harmony with exteriority ends and synchrony within commence. The petals are far - far away. The wind has flown it the way it had to. The eyes are half-closed and still. The ambience is One within and out. The sky is still dusky and pregnant to drip. Me, is again alone with myself.
Superconsciousness
When I was too young, I thought life is very simple and hence boring. There was somebody who could take care of my problems. Thats my parents. But then again there were problems that they didn't dare handle. I thought thats the limitation of humanity. Because for me, my parents were my world. As I grew up, I realized world is without boundaries. Anything that my mind can think, it can do. There is no question mark in the world. Everything is possible. The sky is unlimited and boundaries does not exist, if at all they do then they are psychological. Then I thought, I could any thing and everything. I didn't think much before plunging into it.
I thought, If someone else can do, why cannot I. Man has several levels of realization. First step is material self, that every one has. Second is, something within, the conscious self, the 'atman'. Third and most intangible is, super-consciousness. No, I am not bluffing anything philosophical, its very practical. If one believes in consciousness, he must believe in super-consciousness. Super-consciousness is the phenomena of collective consciousness of the humanity. Its the cosmos. Imagine, We all, every one around here have one common brain, one common energy that flows within all of us. It is as if, many children are getting nurtured by one umbilical cord. Feeling of super-consciousness comes on realization of one-ness with the cosmos. It is the realization that the immense cosmic energy is within yourself.
Realization of wave that it is nothing, is so pessimistic. Realization of wave that it is the whole ocean, is superconsciousness. When a wave thinks that it is something, it is misleading itself. But when it realizes that the WHOLE is it. A Human being is beyond the boundaries of small-spanned, time-bound, mediocre wave. Human being is extemporaneous manifestation of grand ocean. Its realization of superconsciousness is connecting with cosmos, is one-ness with the whole. Its no more philosophical. It has been proven with Reiki. With Reiki, I get connected to the cosmic energy and heal myself and others. Thats how the energy flows within and out. That makes me feel, mediocrity is unnatural. Every person is born divine and super-natural. No one is mediocre. Its just that some people deny the boundaries and realize the cosmic self within . While others, keep haggling with day-to-day problems and live muggle life.
I thought, If someone else can do, why cannot I. Man has several levels of realization. First step is material self, that every one has. Second is, something within, the conscious self, the 'atman'. Third and most intangible is, super-consciousness. No, I am not bluffing anything philosophical, its very practical. If one believes in consciousness, he must believe in super-consciousness. Super-consciousness is the phenomena of collective consciousness of the humanity. Its the cosmos. Imagine, We all, every one around here have one common brain, one common energy that flows within all of us. It is as if, many children are getting nurtured by one umbilical cord. Feeling of super-consciousness comes on realization of one-ness with the cosmos. It is the realization that the immense cosmic energy is within yourself.
Realization of wave that it is nothing, is so pessimistic. Realization of wave that it is the whole ocean, is superconsciousness. When a wave thinks that it is something, it is misleading itself. But when it realizes that the WHOLE is it. A Human being is beyond the boundaries of small-spanned, time-bound, mediocre wave. Human being is extemporaneous manifestation of grand ocean. Its realization of superconsciousness is connecting with cosmos, is one-ness with the whole. Its no more philosophical. It has been proven with Reiki. With Reiki, I get connected to the cosmic energy and heal myself and others. Thats how the energy flows within and out. That makes me feel, mediocrity is unnatural. Every person is born divine and super-natural. No one is mediocre. Its just that some people deny the boundaries and realize the cosmic self within . While others, keep haggling with day-to-day problems and live muggle life.
France in Me.
Sky was azure and bright. I stood there with my face, facing the welkin. Horizon was delimited by the atlantic ocean. I saw ducks on the beach that later I came to know, were sea-hens. That's the speciality of atlantic ocean. When I skid on the not-so-expressive frozen ice on the foot-path, I came to know, foot-path could be slippery without cow-dung also. When I had the hardest bread in my life, I realized why it is called 'pain' in french.
I am never alone. I always find beautiful creatures around me. Somebody is stone hard planned and calculative then someone is so careless that he doesn't bother where he's going and realizes what he has eaten after having it all. On the first day in office, I met the person whom I considered, whole-n-sole. But later on I realized, He was NOTHING, simply NOTHING. But then again, It is so mediocre to be with people who are SOMETHING. So being sophisticated and modest, I did lunch with NOTHING.
Once I decided to go to Paris, for some official work. I needed tickets and travel information. I went to the lady who does all these work. Fortunately, She didn't knew english. I had another oppertunity to explore my non-verbal skills. But unfortunately, she couldn't bear me for long. She went and asked someone, whom I thought NOTHING, to act as translator. He came and took immense interest in my travel to paris. He was french chauvinist. He planned all my weekends to some or the other beaches, mountains, historic towns (of course whose history was beyond my purview). Later on, I realized, He was BIG-THING.
Sooner, I was joined by one plump and cute norwegian. He was quite senior to me and had good experience in my company. He used to take lunch with us. He was quite a photographer than a software engineer. He used to roam alone. I don't know how people roam alone. But he did that quite gracefully. He was the example complete narcissist. He loved himself. He was contented with himself, his profession and his passion that he needed no one else. Not even for appreciating his works. Then Christmas came and he went to Oslo. I don't whether he ever discussed about us to his family. But one thing is that, that no single day was gone without discussion about him.
One freezing day and I thought, 'its pretty hot today'. Somebody from my office stopped and beckoned me to get in the car. I was pleased. But when it came to my notice that outside it was subzero. His eyes glistened and mine surprised. We didn't talk no more.
Few people in france love indian food. They gave us the map to reach one indian restaraunt. Even though I didn't miss much the indian food. I just went to the place. I was greeted in the restaraunt by NAMASTE. He was the old, frail, well dressed, gujrati by tongue and french by nationality manager cum owner of the restaraunt. His parents were from Gujrat. Gone or deported to Medagascar in 1912, for I don't know what reasons. And France, the beautiful and humane country on this earth, given french citizenship to all the descendents. Hence was he there. He didn't knew English. But he knew tidbits of Hindi. Not very fluent but cute.
I am never alone. I always find beautiful creatures around me. Somebody is stone hard planned and calculative then someone is so careless that he doesn't bother where he's going and realizes what he has eaten after having it all. On the first day in office, I met the person whom I considered, whole-n-sole. But later on I realized, He was NOTHING, simply NOTHING. But then again, It is so mediocre to be with people who are SOMETHING. So being sophisticated and modest, I did lunch with NOTHING.
Once I decided to go to Paris, for some official work. I needed tickets and travel information. I went to the lady who does all these work. Fortunately, She didn't knew english. I had another oppertunity to explore my non-verbal skills. But unfortunately, she couldn't bear me for long. She went and asked someone, whom I thought NOTHING, to act as translator. He came and took immense interest in my travel to paris. He was french chauvinist. He planned all my weekends to some or the other beaches, mountains, historic towns (of course whose history was beyond my purview). Later on, I realized, He was BIG-THING.
Sooner, I was joined by one plump and cute norwegian. He was quite senior to me and had good experience in my company. He used to take lunch with us. He was quite a photographer than a software engineer. He used to roam alone. I don't know how people roam alone. But he did that quite gracefully. He was the example complete narcissist. He loved himself. He was contented with himself, his profession and his passion that he needed no one else. Not even for appreciating his works. Then Christmas came and he went to Oslo. I don't whether he ever discussed about us to his family. But one thing is that, that no single day was gone without discussion about him.
One freezing day and I thought, 'its pretty hot today'. Somebody from my office stopped and beckoned me to get in the car. I was pleased. But when it came to my notice that outside it was subzero. His eyes glistened and mine surprised. We didn't talk no more.
Few people in france love indian food. They gave us the map to reach one indian restaraunt. Even though I didn't miss much the indian food. I just went to the place. I was greeted in the restaraunt by NAMASTE. He was the old, frail, well dressed, gujrati by tongue and french by nationality manager cum owner of the restaraunt. His parents were from Gujrat. Gone or deported to Medagascar in 1912, for I don't know what reasons. And France, the beautiful and humane country on this earth, given french citizenship to all the descendents. Hence was he there. He didn't knew English. But he knew tidbits of Hindi. Not very fluent but cute.
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