Serene

'Arun, drop me at the koil please.'

' Ma, Isn't God everywhere? Then why do you go to temples? '

'I am not goin to get into this arguement with you.'

'That is because you do not have a good enough reason. '

' Oh, is that what you think? Look, more often than not, temples are places where people leave negative thoughts out when they walk in. So the entire place is filled with positive vibrations. I feel happy when I go there.'

' Well, I cannot argue with that. As long as you do not tell me that you go there to earn religious currency, it is fine with me. If you do it to make yourself happy, thats good. '

' Good. That closes this topic. Now drop me at the temple. '
---------

Arun was reversing his car after dropping his mother, when he saw her parking her scooty. He just could not take his eyes off her. A sense of calm prevailed on her face.

She was in a hurry. She was buying 'archanai thattu', setting her hair after removing her helmet, answering a call on the cell and removing her slippers all at the same time. Yet, she seemed so much in control. Grace. Yes, that is the word. There was grace in all her movements.

Arun, parked the car and followed her into the temple. He caught her skipping as she washed her legs and walked through the hot parankallu to enter the sannidhi. A small token thoppukaranam later, she scampered into a small hall in the side of the temple.

Arun,entered the hall to find himself in the middle of a lecture,where a Swamiji was talking to the gathering which was predominantly grey and white-haired. As Arun turned to leave, the Swamiji paused and said, 'It is nice to see even the younger generation interested in our scriptures.' Arun turned back towards the hall, only to be greeted by over fifty pairs of eyes. He gave a sheepish grin and quickly seated himself on the nearest chair.

For the next 10 minutes Arun eyes scanned the hall for a her but could not spot her. The lecture ended and he was about to leave when he saw her at the other end of the room.

' Arun, what a surprise seeing you here.'

' Well, Ma, I was curious.'

'So, how did you find the lecture?'

' Well.. uh... hmm.... interesting, if I may say that.' Arun was desperately tryin to remember something from the lecture.

' Good. I am happy you liked it. '
---*--

'Ma, you are late. Let us go. '

' I am surprised Arun. I thought your interest would die down after the first lecture. But its been four weeks now and you are regular. '

'I have a question for you. After we die, depending on our karma and dharma, our souls either get moksha or there is reincarnation in some form right? '

'Well... I guess so. '

' Then, why do we regularly pray for the souls of our ancestors through various rituals when technically, their souls don't exist as their souls any more?'

'Hmm.. good question. Why don't you ask swamiji today? '

' Maybe I will. '

' I like this though. You are asking questions and you now seek to understand. This, even Arun had noticed.

Arun had seen the girl every week for the past four weeks. She must also be the philosophical kind. Today , he would speak to her.
--

'Today we shall talk about detached- attachment.' Swamiji's voice filled the hall.

Maybe she is late. The traffic is heavy today.

She never came.
--------

' Swamiji.. Swamiji..'

' Oh sorry, my child, what were you asking again? '

The disciple looked up at Sri Arun, who looked serene in his white flowing robes.

' How did you know that this was your path in life? Did you have an inspiration or a divine revelation?'

Sri Arun closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened his eyes and replied, 'Inspiration and indication can come from unknown sources. Strange are the ways of the lord.'

Vinayaka Chaturthi

Vinayak or Ganesh Chaturthi, reminds me of my grandparents and my stay with them. I was brought up in Ranchi, Jharkhand and then moved to Bangalore, while my grand parents were always in Madras. So my interactions with my grand parents was generally restricted to the two month long summer vacations alone. (2 month long vacations... those were the days...) When I decided to move to Madras for engineering, I had the chance to stay with my grandparents for 3 years.

At first I found living with my grand parents difficult, for there were a lot of no-cannot-do things. There used to be a lot of pent up frustration, for I would never speak back or raise my voice, ever. But the longer I stayed with them, the more I began to appreciate their way of life. There was so much discipline and structure to their lives. At first I was not too fond of discipline, but when I realised that discipline gave rise to the structure, I began to enjoy the way of life.

My grandparents are pretty religious. (I do not know about myself, yet) So we used to celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi, Krishna Jayanthi, Diwali, Pongal etc at home. There would always be 'Poojai' at home. The run up to the date of the 'poojai' would be me going around the market buying flowers, 'arukam pul' (A kind of grass), fruits and so on. My granny would make the right savouries according to the function.

Among the festivals Ganesha Chaturthi was special because I would be asked to do the Poojai. I am not very ritualistic, but when I do take part, I am very sincere about it and try to do it in the 'right way'. So, on Ganesh chaturthi I would wake up early, have bath and start preparing for the poojai. I would not eat till the entire poojai was completed. I would try and do all the rituals properly, chant the mantras to the best of my abilities. Ofcourse, my grandfather would sit next to me and literally handhold me through the entire poojai. I should admit that I was pretty clueless the first year, but by the third year I was pretty good at it :)

To me, Ganesh Chaturthi was like a great bonding occasion. My grandfather would teach me the right way of doing the rituals. He would explain why certain things were done and what were the reasons. I pride myself on being the 'rational guy', so I would ask questions on the 'whys?' of everything and he would patiently explain, what he felt were the reasons. So the poojai that should take 45 minutes would take an hour and a half or more. My granny meanwhile would give my grandfather constant reminders that her grandson was foodless since dawn and that he should not be troubled so much. The poojai would then end and food would be served with those amazing Kozhakottais and jaggery payasam. But the conversation between me and my grandfather would continue onto religion, mythology, philosophy, scriptures, politics and so
on. And a few more kozhakattais would be gulped down. And then we would finally stop, because we all would want to catch a nice siesta after the heavy meal.

At the end of it all, I would be happy that I was successful in being a good grandson. My
grand father would be happy that everything went on well. I sometimes got the feeling that he felt happy also because he could pass on some of his knowledge and tradition down the family. And my grand mother would be happy that we had finished her yummy kozhakottais completely. And overall, I am sure Ganesha would have liked the way we celebrated his birthday.

I miss not being there for Ganesh Chaturthi with my grandparents. I was trying to figure out what exactly I missed? Was it the conversations, the ritual or the food. It then dawned upon me that it was a bit of everything. It was shopping for the veggies and fruits and flowers for the poojai. It definitely is the poojai itself where the grandson was trying to learn and impress his grand dad. It is the poojai again because my grandfather used to teach me with so much involvement,belief and faith that it was inspiring. And it definitely is the kozhakattais to complete the entire event.

Tomorrow is 'Ganesh Chaturthi'. And I am in Bombay, alone, missing those kozhakattais .*sigh*

Dreams

It is the promised land that I have dreamt of.

I bask in the Sunshine of Happiness; soaking-in the simple joys. Clouds of Desire shower me with the choicest of wishes. Gentle winds of content, sooth my fluttering soul.

My eyes scan the clear horizon, I see my path of purpose in front. Suddenly, I am not worried whether it is an oft taken path or a rarely taken one; Or whether I am trailing a path or pathing-a-trail. For it does not matter - Because it is 'my path'.

A voice bellows from the sky, 'Choose any one. The sun, the rain, the wind or the path. When you wake up its yours forever.' Without a pause, I shout back, ' No. Never. I do not want to stop dreaming!'

Friday Musings

I wanted to make my 'Friday Musings' a weekly thing. And given that I had written something for past 2 weeks, I did not want to break the rhythm. So I sat with my laptop in front of me for two hours last night. I started writing on some topic, deleted it, restarted on some other topic, deleted again and so on, till I was so drowsy that I slept off on my laptop.

I walked to office this morning through a light drizzle, thinking about the previous night when this thought struck me. So how does one know when to give up?

Whether it is writing a blog post, or working on a project you wanted to forever, but getting no where on it, or with certain people you wish who would listen more.

Till what time is getting out of something considered smart and at what point does it tip over to being little-too-late. When will you be called a smart guy for making the right decision and when will you have a quitter tag attached to you?

Its a complex question, atleast for me.