The windy air

While typing the last few words on laptop I glanced on the clock. It was 6.00p.m.of evening. I had to get ready for dinner at an inaugural function. Anticipating a longer outing at night and to know how of the world outside I switched the TV for current forecast.

One after another the sequels of women atrocities that ranged from five yrs old child victim to forty plus woman flashed on the screen.

In yellow lights of MUV, the zooming engine had been piercing through the woods of plateau region. A narrow stretch of metalled road was reflecting in front of us. Through the abound chitterling of crickets the atmosphere was fragrant with flowers of Palash.

At the 7.30 the evening air of advanced spring was breezy. The darkness was serene except for occasional distant howling of jackals.The narrow windy road had been passing along the base of the hills. It was hemmed by the bamboo groves on the sides. And at some places the stretched was covered with the red of Plash blosooms. 

While enjoying the secenic view outside I  regretted my decision to visit the place after the dusk."Before dusk the scenery around could have been better enjoyed," I thought. The drive through the forest to guest house was of about forty minutes.

After the drive of more than fifteen minutes through the woods Bidyut, the driver seemed clueless and turned the vehicle at different passes. Puzzled in local dialect he yielded I took the wrong turn. “Hmm…. ask someone,” suggested Adi.

In past twenty minute we had crossed occasional hamlets along the path. Most of the routes were deserted through the forest. In abundance the orange blooms of Palash were strewn on the road.

When the vehicle took a turn and rode a bump we saw a girl in red attire was standing at the turning. At the turn the vehicle moved swiftly and I caught the glimpse of her big eyes. At the distance others folks were also walking ahead in groups.

“They are going for Bihu festival’s fair ”- Bidyut informed. Then we were hearing the faint chorus of folksong with rhythmic dak beats which was straining  at the distance.

The ride for next ten minute again passed in silence. We were listening the howls of wilds and occasional rhythm of beats in the commute. The grooves of bamboo were still accompanying us on both the sides of the roads. And now the clueless commute was puzzling us.

Fortunately after sometime an old man was seen walking on the path with a girl behind him. Ask them Adi retorted- “ How did you forget the route,you came many times at this side.” “But that was during the day,” countered Bidyut.

Nearing them Bidyut rolled down the glass. The duo stopped - in local dialect the old man explained something pointing to a side lane. I felt girl’s gaze on me. The moment I moved my attention to her the vehicle moved ahead. Thus I managed only the glimpse of her big, longing eyes and red attire. Bidyut slowed down the vehicle and they walked ahead with us for the time being to show the right lane.

I exclaimed to Adi," Thank god, we found the way." When the vehicle moved ahead both of them were still standing at the corner of the road. With gratitude I viewed them from the rear screen. Her expressive eyes were still at me.

The MUV took the turn through the thick bamboo groove on its side and in five minutes we were at the venue.

In dining hall for women I took the place at the far corner near the window. Through the windy breeze the folk songs with vibrations of beats strained through the open windows.

At the central courtyard of quest house the presentation of local artiste was going on. To continue the sequel of the events the artiste were passing through the passage near our chairs. Again I felt a gaze on me through the passing group. The same girl in red attire, while moving ahead she smiled. Her smile and gaze puzzled me. The function continued till latenight.

Around mid night we were heading back to home, a forest official was accompanying us on the front seat. Other vehicles were coming out in fleets. After the drive of few minutes MUV rode to the single strip road.

“Few hours back a fair was going on here nearby- somewhere near a side lane. We had asked the path and had taken the route,” Bidyut broke the silence after the ride of five minutes.

Ranger stated solemnly –“Only a single strip goes up to five kilometers and after that the nearest hamlet starts.” Again silence reign inside the vehicle. My baffled gaze met Adi. He stared back in puzzling silence.

Next day I get her image and story,the girl in the red attire in the local daily.She was the daughter of an old man.A local had persuaded her in the relationship, promising to marry. But after a while he stopped responding to marriage proposal-the girl fed up with his sexual advance had been seeking help.The relationship earned her and his family dishonor in the society. Fed up with dishonoring the family and unable to check his sexual advancement she ended her life.

I was dumbfounded. Why was I getting her frequently? Why the red attire and her eyes were so evocative? Whether she was aware I had recently been helping and working with local women commission. Was she wanted to be heard and knowingly following me everywhere or was its just a coincidence? I was unable to find out.

A prayer to Lord Rama

The Maryada Pursottam!
The Kaushalaya nandan!
The lotus eyed –king!
The shyam verna –dusk color!
The delight of Iksvaku dynasty!
The epitome of dharma!
The annihilator of demons!
The incarnation of Lord Vishnu!
The best of human- the idol of the superlative!
Anadaswarupa-the conferral of bliss!
Dharmaswarupa-the compassionate one!
The epitome of morality!
WE BOW TO YOU!

Faithful ally-the whiff

The whiff or the breath is the oldest ally of ours- the everlasting companion. It is the reflection of self. Still it is most ignored and forgotten aspect of the body. The whirling brain has indiscriminately exploited it and negative emotions further plundered it with reactions. But as a faithful companion it accompanies us throughout our lives and has endured all apathy of ours.

The whiff is the inner reflection of self. The ongoing emotion of mind shows in the breath. Vice versa the dormant wizard breathe too holds magic to change the thought pattern.

Every thought consumes energy. But the worst plunderers are negative emotions as they create more reactions. Reaction is an active process which saps energy and leaves one fatigued.

Thought courses the breathing patterns. Under positive emotions of love, happiness and gratitude-it remains calm and relaxed. But under negative emotions like-anger, hurt and indecision it becomes shallow, unsteady and rough.
So when thoughts can change the course of breath. Breath too holds magic to change the thought patterns.

To bring best of ours and the best of life, the deep,calmer and steady breath works best for us. As the calm breath supply enough of oxygen and nutrient to body cells and brings the best of physiological activities.

To bring it to best, attention is needed. Meditation and breathing techniques induces the calmness in whiff. The calm,deep and steady breath is the the elixir of all cure and healing techniques(but it should not be forced in certain medical conditions and can be undertaken by the help of skilled guide). It is the savior of all biological processes. We must work on it.

A view of whiff through different angles-
On physiological level- It aids physiological functioning of body. As the transporter of nutrients, oxygen and remover of toxicity/detoxifier, it is the supplier of basic amenities of the cells.

On religion level- it represents Lord Hanuman-the son of Lord of Vayu -Ajani-known as Pawanputra. The Lord Hanuman-the breath acts as a bridge to sustain body-supply fuel to mind and body. It provides life force energy as breath therefore japa of Hanuman mantra strengthens physical body. The worship of Lord Hanuman is under taken to increase vigor and earning capacity.

The Ram represents Prusha –the spirit-and the consort Ma Sita represents- the physical body. Lord Rama an incarnation of Lord Vishnu is the sustainer of life.
It suggests us that the breath (Lord Hanuman) has power to tune the mind(Ram) and body(Ma Sita) and brings best of vitality.

On Astrological level-the breath- Lord Hanuman represents the planet Mars- the planet of physical strength. Calm ,deep and steady whiff is a sign of vitality. A good physical strength ensures good health and earning power.

All of us are the best arbitrator of our lives. Are the intellects still doubt the correct course? I don’t think so, have a good day and best of vitality!

A prayer of Ma Durga

O’Ma Aditi, the conferral of boons!
The epitome of virtues
Salutation to you!

Brahma and Vishnu meditate upon you!
Saints and sages sing praise of you!
O’ Radiant-salutation to you!

The creator of world
The nurturer of world!
O’ Annapurna—salutation to you!

O Primeval beauty Bela
Beloved of Shiva Shanker
O’ Ma Parvati-Salutation to you!

The embodiment of wisdom
Mother goddess of Vedas
O Aditi-Salutation to you!

The epithet of Ma Lakshmi
The bestowal of fortune
-Salutation to you!

The goddess of strength
The dwelling of the virtuous
Conferral of auspiciousness
O’ Ma Gauri-salutation to you!

The primordial energy
The protector of all!
O’ Devi Mahamaya
Salutation to you!

The reluctant food writer

My reluctance to write food articles have nothing to take as dearth of readership. But something else, as bloggers are congenially bore. They are aerial souls, who get delight to soar the sky instead to walk. So some maniac behaviors are normal to some of them. When everybody in the bash talks, they prefer mum and scrutinize others. Back home when the normal unwinds in front of TV and cozily snugs in the bed, the marooning soul will torment the brain to stir out stuffs.

Now back to the work, food article! Yes, I do cook for my family. My favorite watch on TV is TLC. Does merely watching TLC qualify one as a food writer? I mean here, that I researched enough how to present the words and foods items aesthetically.

But real crook here is something else! The muse of food comes to me in terms of calories and its benefit. Whenever I cook my attention gets fixed on calorie and taken oil rather than taste. Recently during Holi festival while frying the bara- my attention was in the frying oil, maintaining the heat as over heating at smoking level is not conducive to health- it increases the LDL –the bad cholesterol. The entire concept of molecular biology was floating in the frying pan. Naturally the baras were of different geometrical shape. With accumulating guilt I completed the frying work, incurring the karmic effect of sinful act-to load the unsuspecting family members to those extra…..

When I dine I say hello to those few recipes only which my palate is acquainted. The fusion food and all different genres of experimental food appeal me visually only. I don’t see any valid reason to try them. The pretext of trying food of distant shore makes me nostalgic and I get feel of bartering my own family members to foreigners.

Any sweet dessert gives a good quiver to my pancreas. Even the soft textured syrupy gulab jamun hardly entice me. No I don’t have ailment, instead I horrify to have one! While eating and viewing others, I get more concerned about how a poor pancreas would have to cope up with the barbaric attitude of the diner. I am always towards the rescuers side rather than inflictor.

Still there is hope I can write about diet food, not a bad idea after all. “But any way, who is going to eat the stuff of my research?-I and hubby,” he cannot escape me. As a newlywed on several occasions he had boosted my spirit by mouthing terrible stuffs cooked by me, simply to check my tears and guilt-earning my faith in parents’ choice and arrange marriage. Children cannot be trusted. Perhaps I missed to inculcate politeness in them that to refuse food doesn’t come as good manner.

Now a pertinent point to mull! After all we have five sense organs, then why to encourage single one. Listening to palate only! Are the over activation of taste buds and single zone of brain good idea, not at all? Distribute the work and engage every sense organ to use. Instead of eating enjoy watching the color and smell of the food. Why to strain the system by eating it and loading the unwanted calories?

So what is going to be food item of my write up? Well, salads-easy to make and rich source of nutrients, tea-full of antioxidant and brain booster, sprouts- full of beneficial enzymes, roughage and toxin buster. Quite confident! Yes, I can write about any.

But, now feeling a bit uncomfortable- a pang in the stomach! In the evening with a cup of tea I had started the musing. It is dinner time now, better to take refuge in food cooked by my help and postpone the idea for the while. Good night!

The stuck up lives

The roaring train thumped into the platform and a sudden motion surged over there. The emptying of trash bin and unloading of furnishing started.

Putting at the shoulder the nylon net of collected empty water bottles Vilash walked off with Malesh and Tulsi. He tied the lower edge of the shirt to put sachets of edibles which he had got from train.

The western fringe of the platform was joined with the slum. They stepped out of the station and crossed the drain. The over powering stench of uncollected garbage and excreta signaled him the border of slum. The nauseating smell would tell him – his breakfast time of Paw with fried snacks-before to pick up the day’s job. After scrutinizing the trash occupied place they mounted the fenced wall of railway’s colony for their breakfast. The congestion had been rising day by day as the station was getting bigger and busier.

Just outside the platform the smell and the slums were the shock of the city for the first timers. Especially the foreigners who gape abhorrently the contrasts of the city-the muck and the heritage site of the city. But still, the open soaring trash and littered garbage had been the fact- a part of the city though a contrast to- swanky- would be- world class platform, like their lives and the lives of well to do.

The day’s soaring mercury ensured the brisk business to him and in few hours he hurried the sale of more than half dozen of sealed fake water bottles. Only few had left in net, might be he would have to frequent the slum for another dozen!

The descending sun had mellowed the heat. Sitting on the bridge he had been watching the commuters of the elite train who were trading the way carefully evading the glance of choked drain and heaped trash.

Till evening he had filled the quota of his twice meal. At night he never cared for food. To soothe the strain of the day he had been depending upon the sniffs. Sleeping along the deserted dividers the starry night would herald nightmares to him. For last couple of years he had been on the seduction of adhesive sniffs for night sleep. The enforced drowsiness would blur the reality of dark hours and nightmares.

Near the dividers at night with other children he would huddle to sleep. The hard come sleep would vague the difference of glitz urbane crowd and Spartan life of choking drain and repelling smell.

During the visit of VIPs and big events in the city they would have to evade the platform. Then they would move to the parking bay for buses, right across the old station building.

Few years back during the raid the children had been picked up by the cops and were sent to a NGO for night shelter and learning. For two years he had been to a school and had learnt to read. He remembered the quotes of his school day about the Kashmir, “ if there is heaven on the earth it is here ,here, here.” he glanced upon the trash and drain and mused about renovating platform-the disparity of places.

Few railway officials walked ahead putting the handkerchief on nose. “ The smell is disgusting.” Another added-“It amazes me how such obnoxious air can prevail for such a long time even on this busiest Metros platform.” But before making the report make it clear-“What can be done to refurbish it?

He moved ahead near the bridge and stumble upon heaps of garbage. The uncollected muck had been a play ground and treasures of some good finds for them.

He moved from the fetid, unhygienic environment to sparkly railway station. The election was round the corner so it was declared as world class station. The work of renovation was going inside, the adjoining areas had been renovated. The new garbage bins were placed at regular intervals with dark plastic bags neatly tucked inside. These days not a single bin was overflowing with trash. The sweepers were swooping down on every piece of discarded paper, food packets, plastic cups and other trash. There was not any filth on the station. The bags were removed from the bins before they start spilling over. He trudged the foyers of the platform which was being sprinkled with water to settle the dirt.

Till dawn to dusk the day changed, the sparking world class place would transform into appalling sights after the walk of few yards -akin to his life. The day again passed and the next dawn ascended but every change and move would be same for him. To pass another day of non waiting..in the array of movements the stuck up lives of theirs…

The paradoxical faiths of life

Hardships-the package of opportunities-pushed aside by all of us-so we push the opportunities. Hardship entails tackling the unknown-venturing the unknown territories. It is creator of fear so it is shunned. Every opportunity involves risks. Calculated risks (according to our strength) are necessary for progress.

Calmness or equanimity- mistaken as vegetative stage of being or renouncing the life and world-it is the state of complete alertness with total relaxation. A state of total awareness in witness mode gives clarity of the circumstances. To achieve the state- a regular practice is needed.

Peace-the thing of ascetic or can be striven at old age. Is the present age or time is entitled to slave in negative thoughts and misery or to waste in agitated state and tension? Or is a time to harbor the unpleasant thoughts – a product of unaware mind? Or allowing all those negative thoughts to root inside for long so ruining the mind and body it can create ailment in long run. EVERY AILMENT HAS CAUSE IN MIND.

Anger- view as a tool of strength- in fact it a sign of weakness- a weak person gets threatened easily and shows anger unable to cope up with situation. To beat the blue and anger- an exercise of compiling the self must be taken by us so we should not waste energy. Anger dissipates energy- it is like poison.

Perception of world -Usually by many of us the world and people are viewed as competitor. I have seen many people in life they are always at competition - at home, at work place and everywhere. They generate competitor at first step and starts competing losing the bliss of the moment and work in hand.

We are not here to impress anyone and the world outside. We are here with our own special talent to display with complete fullness according to our potential. We are here to enjoy the bliss of life giving complete awareness to the work in hand and to enjoy the moment. Success and failure are all relative in the world. No success is ever final so any failure cannot be allowed to be fetal.

The hurdles of success reside inside us-as inertia, procrastination and compliance-which restrict the growth and best of ours. The world for us must exist inward to outward. First we organize our inner world, instinctively it will handle the outside world in best way.

Spirituality- a refuge of non action or like renouncing the world. It is actually art and science of life- a sure shot technique of empowered life- yoga, japa (the vibrations have the power to tune the mind and body),Hindu figurines (energy patterns like Yantra-has certain pattern, color and symbols to understand- empowered tools to restore the lost mental and physical strength). To achieve these a regular practice and understanding require.

Bhagwat Gita –a book of elderly people meant for old age. It is the best book of human psychology-in the form of Krishna-the self- how to strength it (the self)? The mental frame and gain best of life is illustrated-a crying need of today’s world- for youths as well as for all of us.

In today’s life-where childhood ends at twelve and thirteen years- a teenager and twenty plus(and all of us) are seen coping with all insecurities or fighting the world-that range from fear, loneliness, peer pressure, careers, coping with failed affairs and sex/marital problems.

Under the friction of harsh world often the sustainability of life raises the skepticism -how long the throat cut life style allows one to breath in.? Sometimes life seem totally on the mercy of nature that raises question on their sustainability whether he/she will be able to push it for longer or peril in depression or in more unfortunate grave decision…

In this era of roving insecurities it time to precept right and wrong and choose the savior for protection.