Friday, July 17, 2015

Is place of living important?


I do dream of different lives which I may want to lead at different points of time.

 Sometime I dream of living in Goa alongside a beach with a small design studio and a small coffee shop for example. The relaxed days and calm nights, shadows of palms and coconut trees, soothing sights and sounds of the sea. Good and healthy life. Reasonably good education for my children and satisfaction.

Sometimes I dream of a life in a far away land, perhaps in the developed part of Asia. A really urban but a peaceful systematic life.. a secure 9-5 job. Lots of time to spend with my family., exploring the city and native cultures, making new friends. Learning the music and new languages. No hassle of driving through traffic. A perfect pedestrian or public transit based life with social security.

I also, albeit not often, think of a life in a quiet village or a small city in Europe where I could be my own self, exploring dimensions of art and architecture surrounded by nature and silence. There is a lot which I can transpire with my own self. Perhaps write a book on a not so boring life I have had so far over a dose of nicotine and wine.

Then there are urges to spend the rest of my life in exploring my own country with my family. Meeting my own people. Understanding them and helping them to the best of my abilities. Laughing with a village stock some day and crying with a group of deceased poor another day. Rural India has a still lot to offer me to keep me alive and kicking.

But then very soon my dreams get shattered when I open my eyes and find myself in a catch 22 situation of realities and real responsibilities and reminders of what I must do and not what I want to do . Very essential to sustain myself and my family in a jungle surrounded by beasts of the highest order.

Then I pray to God and ask him the reason of sending me to this mrityuloka, a loka completely curtained by maya. A life where you have to do things because you are supposed to. Your innate instinct of survival. Your compulsion of struggle. A situation where you can see the truth but cant follow it. A world which you know is fake and materialistic but you cant escape it because the only way to escape it is through death which itself is the antithesis of the reason why God sent me here.

So, I carry on with the best of my abilities to win the game of mrityuloka. Lets see whether I win or lose. It doesn’t matter though but the excitement and anticipation gives me a reason to cheer. Seclusion and shying away from playing will only encourage me to escae Maya. Which I can but I wont. I love my wife and daughter.

 

Sunday, March 22, 2015

It is perhaps my most difficult hour in life that I am writing this post. I lost Papa on 5th of March 2015 and since then I am feeling that I have lost a big chunk of myself.
The day I lost him made me feel like being abandoned by God himself. I felt that there is nothing for me in this world and no reason to live now.
I lost my history, my heritage my friend, philosopher, guide, guru and my witness.Papa was the only one who witnessed me for the greatest part of my life. For 33 years. He was constant for me since my birth. At the age of 21 when I lost mummy I still had him with me. He was my mother and father and everything since then. Atleast till I married.
My every professional and social effort was either inspired by him or was targeted to please him and have his appreciation. I feel now that there is nobody in this world who will appreciate my life as a whole, nobody who would accept me as I am in totality, nobody who would stand with me for everything big or small so selflessly.
I feel a part of me has died. A part of my mind, a part of my soul, a part of my conciousness. Everyday I pary to God that when I wake up next morning, I find this as a bad dream and not reality. Every day I miss Papa.His presence. His blessings.
When I analyze myself, I feel that I have not been a good enough son. I could not make him as confortable as I should have. I could not make him as cheerful as I should have.
Right now I see no way how I can console myself, how I can distract myself, how I can pay my penance, how I can forgive myself.
I see no way. I find temporary solace in rituals, I found some solace in the company of Ma Ganga who said to be that she will take care of Papa as she did of Mummy. But I could not embrace Ma Ganga properly yesterday among all those rituals. I find some solace in the company of my wife and daughter but it is beyond there capacity to fully understand how torn my heart is right now, which not even their fault.
My connection with Papa was unique for him and for me.
Forgive me God. Forgive me Papa. Give me peace. Heal my heart.
Om