Tryst with Destiny

After both a quiet and an exhilarating time at the homeschoolers' conference at Khandala, we started on the next leg of our long road trip - from Khandala to Aurangabad through Ahmednagar, where we wanted to see the world famous Ajanta and Ellora caves.

According to Google maps the distance was about 240 odd kilometres, which we hoped to do in a few hours, giving ourselves enough time to see Ellora caves on the same day :) It was a plan that looked good, until of course the Universe made other plans for us! Somewhere near Ahmednagar, while following the GPS on the phone, we took a wrong fork in the road, and soon found ourselves on a village road with pretty fields of potatoes and onions, dotting the countryside.We didn't realize our mistake for quite a long time, and when we realized, it was too late. We were doing more than a hundred odd kilometres extra!

That was a blessing in disguise as we were able to go off the highway, on village roads and  stopped by at a potato field and took some pictures. That was the first time the three of us were seeing potatoes grow and we were all excited! Soon, we came by a field where we saw a group of men and women packing onions into sacks. I wanted to get off and look, while my son and husband were not too keen. They were already worried with the detour we had made. But when I saw a pony, some sheep and goats there, and told my son, he changed his mind :)

They had just harvested onions and were packing some of the leftovers into sacks, to be sold in the local market. We spoke to the owner, who was a lady farmer. We tried to ask her a few things in Hindi, which of course she did not understand, and talked to us in chaste Marathi! Somehow we spoke and communicated to each other with a mix of sign language and Hindi/ Marathi.  We gathered that she was talking about low prices in the market and losses, but that she was doing organic farming, as she felt that was the best way. She then offered us some onions from her farm ro take back with us but refused to take any money for that.  The wrinkles on her face and the stains in her withered hands spoke of her hardships, but the radiant smile on her face spoke of her large heart.  She invited us to her little home behind the fields, and while we gave her some money to keep for her little grandson, she kept shaking her head in disapproval, as if to say that money cnnot buy or be bartered for some things. We  insisted that she should take it as a gift as we had nothing else to give her,  and that it was a token of our love. She was touched and so were we.

We reached Aurangabad very late that night - it had taken us more than 11 hours to get there from Pune, more than double the time that we had expected it to take.

Later that night, while  I was talking to my father,  who asked if we managed to go to Shirdi on the way, we saw the  map and realised where we had perhaps taken a wrong road. The detour we had been on took us just 18km away from Shirdi, and we did not know that! When I told my father that, he promptly said that perhaps Shirdi Baba was calling us to come and see him ( he is a great believer in Baba and we got married at the Shirdi Sai Baba Mandir in Chennai!). It suddenly occurred to me that we were indeed blessed by Baba through the old lady we had met...what other reason could there have been for our  unknown detour and chance meeting and tryst with our own destiny? Here was a connection that defied logic! A soul connection perhaps.....

Love and Light

Pain and vulnerability
sit within -
fragile, inflammable,
like thick, fragrant oil
in a little lamp,
just waiting to be lit
with tender love.

Our light is fueled
by our pain.

When we share our pain,
we light each other's lamp
in this infinite circle
of love and light.

What is Flow?

What is flow? 

What does it mean to flow with life?

These are questions that I have often asked myself in my long-drawn, never-ending process of self-inquiry.

The images that flash in my mind repeatedly when I think of flow are those of fluids moving from one place to another, sometimes slowly, and sometimes fast.....like water flowing from one place to another - the rivulets, ocean waves, rain, mighty rivers, cascades, water in a pond or lake, dewdrops, teardrops....everything that is water....I also think of more viscous fluids like honey, oil, molten lava and the like.....and then there is the gentle breeze, gusty wind, or the still, cool air that hangs over a mountain top...

And yet, when it comes to life, one is often made to stop in one's tracks to ponder over something that is happening, or something which is not happening the way one wants it to. Our path is often strewn with pebbles or pits that we usually mistake for obstacles that are slowing us down or making us stop or change course. I am now learning that they are only changing the way things flow....altering the pace or the course to open up countless possibilities.

And that realisation has made me wonder again about what flow actually is....what does it mean for me? Looking at the same things with new eyes, I now see everything, fluid or solid as flowing. So then, does a mountain flow? How about a tree, the earth, a flower, the stars, darkness or a tornado....do they all flow? I believe they do, because I have now come to understand that flow is "to just be"....when everything that exists is doing what it is supposed to do, in tune with its nature, it is flowing....flowing in harmony with the rhythm of the cosmos...and that I believe is what "flowing with life" means.....to be ourselves in this moment....for in being myself, I don't offer any resistance, I don't struggle...I just am....and so there is peace. That peace comes even when I find myself in the midst of a storm, or when the whole world around me seems to be crumbling. It comes from a complete surrender to what is before me now, without any expectation of a desired outcome. It comes from a trust that the Universe knows what I need. It comes from a space of knowing deeply that all of us are held in love, and are doing exactly what we are supposed to do now, and are in exactly the place we are meant to be.

So then, with that kind of belief, if I were to look at flow once again, what images would come up in my mind's eye? I can see towering mountains, still ponds with crystal clear water, huge boulders with jagged edges, giant trees that hold up the sky, tiny shells glistening on sandy beaches, a fast-spreading forest fire, or a volcano spewing out lava......one does not want to become the other...they are happy being what they are...and doing it with passion....how then can we feel that they are not flowing? Why do we as human beings find it so hard to flow? Perhaps it is because we don't know who we are. Perhaps we don't trust the Universe or ourselves. Perhaps we are often caught up in the race to be something or someone else.

Here is a poem that I wrote earlier on Flow .

Passion

a sliver of green
peeps out from
the dull brown loam,
a buxom rose bud
is kissed open
by the warm winter sun,
a monarch butterfly
emerges from
its self-imposed prison,
passion -
the life-force,
bursts forth, unbridled,
from the depths within.

  

Spring in the Desert

The desert tree
soaks its roots
in the parched earth,
looking to the vast sky
that holds all,
watching birds
traverse thousands of miles
to rest on its branches,
trembling as the wind
ruffles its brittle leaves,
stirring it from the stillness,
born from being alone.

Seeing the world
with new eyes -
a desert transformed
into an oasis,
standing tall
with a deep knowing
that spring is
just around the corner,
it soaks its roots
deeper into the earth,
that's cracking open
to hold the rain.

Tangled

Thoughts and feelings
about yesterday
and tomorrow,
rolled into one
brown mass -
tangled, with
a lost start, and
an unknown end.

Untangling
is not easy
if the threads
are not to be cut.

I find the knots
one by one,
with trembling fingers
running along each thread,
finding patterns in patterns
of thoughts and feelings,
as they slowly unwind
and unravel the enigma
of what it is
to be utterly human.

The Bell

an old bell
hangs still
in an ancient temple -
a silent witness
to the history
of the world;
it does not speak often,
and yet the world
remembers its voice -
that awakens and heals
broken hearts,
with its quiet presence
and piercing eloquence.

Just a little more love....

pouring grain
into a jar,
there's always room
for a little more;
a little shake or tap
here and there,
settles the grains
into a tight pack
of wholesome goodness;
much like life's ways
of disheveling what is,
to make room for
just a little more love.

The Tipping Point

I choose
the weights -
my emotions,
to place
on the scale.
I learn
as I let
the balance
tip over
to one side;
and then watch,
as it slowly
tips back
to rest
at the fulcrum
of love.

Sunspots

Dark spots
on glowing orange -
do contrasts
make or mar
the richness
of the light
or the darkness?

We see
what we see;
and in that seeing,
we reconnect
with our
ever-changing,
turbulent selves.

When we find
the darkness,
we know
where to find
the brightest
light.

The Invisible Cloak

Can I give you
a sheath of warmth,
a gift of love to wear
when the nights are long?

Can I give you
a quiet hearth,
when your body is numb
from the gorging pain
of frozen thoughts
and a love gone lame?

Can I give you
an invisible cloak,
to shield you from
the vagaries of time
and what it means
to be utterly human?

Can I hold the pain -
yours and mine,
in the silent space
between our souls -
connected, safe,
swaddled in the
invisible cloak
of love?

The Whetstone

sharpened on the
whetstone
of love,
a focussed mind
can cut through
any heart,
with gentle love.

Sand Crabs on a Sunny Beach

when I am stalked
and terrified by Fear -
the many headed monster
exploding into me
like a tidal wave,
I remember
the little sand crabs
on a sunny beach,
who make their homes
where the waves break in;
they know no fear -
watching with intent,
the ruthless waves rush in;
now quickly hiding
in the shifting sands,
they choreograph
their endless dance
with the sun-kissed waves -
a magical interplay
of stillness and movement
along uncertain shores.