Yoga -myths and realities:

Wide-Angle Seated Forward BendThe YOGA Vedic philosophy has all along been known for its complexities since ages, or say since hundreds of centuries, and is known so well for its qualitative values and result orientations with a richer orientation on fitness factor. As against different tough masculine discipline of direct physical exercises involving a more rigorous discipline of regimen, Yoga exercises are considered as simpler and easy to adopt maturing to an expertise but it is observed that many take it as a short cut to achieving a perfection which is nothing beyond what is utterly utopian. The traditional physical exercises lay more emphasis on reoriginating physical body fitness whereas Yoga aims at building up a sound spiritual fitness aimed at in a way towards divine pursuits which is far greater a goal. Yoga stresses more emphasis on energising the veins and not just the bones as against wrestlers mode of practice.

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The real India is here?

india image‘There is no time to stay and stare”, said Lord Kipling and that’s because of every day growing population of India which the country is just facing and may be it grows worse in days to com. In our puraans (epics) there is already a warning signal that some day India may collapse because of awefully overpopulous a country with the Earth unable to bear the burden. Some brand it as something catastrophic and there are some who smell a Doom’s Day in it. Possibly it is the time for India to fall in line with China who brought certain legislations to curb this menace of overpopulation.

Leading the life of a recluse?

Truth is this, rather an eternal truth, that none bothers about the other ones and the question is why should they? And the question is why something for nothing? And yet the question resounds in the air why any tussle on that count or why any hue and cry for the purpose? Monkeys have an inherant propensity to kill their inmates if some one of them is fatally sick. Nothing wrong; it is aimed at rescueing the victim against tortuousmost an agony of pain. Humans too virtually fall in line with monkeys as a matter of cause. Socrates, a great thinker and philosopher, was poisoned by his own disciples including Aristotle, the most confidant follower of his. Lord Buddha had more or less the same fate and when his chief disciples Sariputra and Maudgalyayan rushed to him in his last moments he advised both of them too to follow the suit. Swami Shraddhanand was given samaadhi by his followers against his will and the story is unending. What pervades triumphantly in a masculine measure is the Immanent Will and one has but to succumb to it.

Obstructing the chain of thoughts:


Milky_Way_galaxy_sun05space3Engrossed in your work with a pensive thought it’s a tumultuous jolt to you if you get confronted with some hurdle or the other in the form of an obstacle. It is so annoying and irritating as if you had to incur a heavy loss with your mental faculties going astray like dry leaves wantonly flying helter skelter melting in the dust. Such a phase of life is like a Samadhi where one enters a circumference bordering unconsciousness bereft of any thing sordid. Any mode of thought process, a Divine mode or some business pursuits, none likes to be detracted to noise and uneasy utterances sans a normality. A chain of thoughts with Divine orientation or some business perception hardly tolerates hoarse voices in their close vicinity –the reason being a deep chain of thoughts never tolerates even a minor intrusion to their pursuit  and that is what is denotative of the kind of what a person thinks –it could be Divine, it could be sordid too.

In the void air towards THEE….?

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  • Suffering from the pangs of seclusion and hankering for a look and glimpse of his love partner he stretches his hands towards the horizon but in vain, she is not there nor his voice is audible to her and the distance between the two increases tens of times with the passage of time and out of a sheer disgust he cries in the vacuum “…In the void air towards thee my strained arms are cast”. Much easier it is to pursue a loose sort of love but tremendously difficult and tortuously painful to go for the one that is serenely ecstatic with an absolute satiation close to Divine where pangs of seclusion are manifest much larger in more serene an order on the face of the partners with the whole world in their fist. Possibly it was this kind of love for which Thomas Hardy made the lady of one of his novels wandering alone in the Egdon Heath crying “Give me love, my Lord, give it to me, give it, give it” (sic). Love is not a kabaddi game or a lust, love is a great sacrifice.

  • Some of my beloved readers requested me to write something exclusively on love and to  meet their requisition I put up here one of my poems in the form of prose, hence this writeup.

In the void air towards THEE….?

images (25)

  • Suffering from the pangs of seclusion and hankering for a look and glimpse of his love partner he stretches his hands towards the horizon but in vain, she is not there nor his voice is audible to her and the distance between the two increases tens of times with the passage of time and out of a sheer disgust he cries in the vacuum “…In the void air towards thee my strained arms are cast”. Much easier it is to pursue a loose sort of love but tremendously difficult and tortuously painful to go for the one that is serenely ecstatic with an absolute satiation close to Divine where pangs of seclusion are manifest much larger in more serene an order on the face of the partners with the whole world in their fist. Possibly it was this kind of love for which Thomas Hardy made the lady of one of his novels wandering alone in the Egdon Heath crying “Give me love, my Lord, give it to me, give it, give it” (sic). Love is not a kabaddi game or a lust, love is a great sacrifice.

  • Some of my beloved readers requested me to write something exclusively on love and to  meet their requisition I put up here one of my poems in the form of prose, hence this writeup.

Back to squire one:

This is small story from the Vedic era describing about a cobbler who wanted to be better placed in his next birth and accordingly prayed at Bhairoghat temple near Dashaswamedh ghat close to the Ganges river. This temple is mythologically known for granting the worshippers the type of birth they wanted when they are born next time. One day the cobbler went to the temple with the resolve to return only after the Deity consents to his wish. He prayed in a sequence asking for a king in his next birth but withdrew it on the thought that king’s life is very risky and his life is always in danger. Like that imageshe  made a request to become the king’s Prime Minister but that too he himself turned down on the pretext that every Prime Minister is supposed to be a chamcha to the boss the king. Then he opted for a tiger but that too was dropped by him realising that some day an elephant may crush him to death using his heavy legs and the trunk. Like this he continued requesting for dozens of the choices but was unable to stick to one out of his list. In the end he had no option but to request the Deity after obeisance to allow him to take birth as a cobbler only and it is from this point onwards that the saying “Banda mochi ka mochi” did emerge. Any live being has the same discipline to follow and it is only utterly foolish to hanker for the fancy of different genres.This applies to all live beings uniformly with no discriminations of any kind

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A world without joints?

Shakespear

It’s a mirage in itself as to what the world as a whole is and what is the purpose which it stands for. Is there some God who created it or it just emerged at  its own with or without any massive volcanic eruptions devastatingly colluding with one another and the resultant mass was called the world. But authenticity part on this version is still sans an acceptable truth. What historians and anthropologists talk on the subject is all guess based. The role of the mythologists too has worsened the confusion in a form worse confounded.

We can of course talk about the real world of which we are the inhabitants, we can visibly see it, we can use it, we can share our views with one another candidly and frankly, and above all we can secure some little space somewhere as our own with plenty of ifs and buts to add or subtract from any where to any where. If it suits Jigar Moradabadi, an eminent Urdu poet he fumes and frowns saying “…na jaane kidhar se na jaane kidhar ko, azal se abad tak baha jaa raha hoon…”. As if it was not enough, Shakespeare finds the world as a whole suffering from loopholes and his Hamlet proclaims that he is the one born to set these disorders fixed. Hamlet cries with a shriek “The world is without joints and I am born to set it right”. The world continues the way it suits it and the critics have no pause against whatever they could at the maximum, say beyond a limit. We may have to keep ourselves contended that there are actually two worlds –one that we could never see and the other one that we could see with snags at every step.

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Fear not dreaded devils in you:

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Dreaded devils have nothing like a specified place to stay and they could be seen and felt any where mainly including your own brain and heart. Those having faith in Lord Buddha might have gone through the respective literature intensively with his encounters with dare devils and also supernaturals and at a stage he felt so disgusted because of these confrontations that he decided to call it a day to pursuing the Truth, Truth the eternal. Thanks to Sujata, the village girl, who inspired Him to stick to the mission that led him to become ‘the ENLIGHTENED SOUL’. He also became ‘Light of Asia’ in the very name of the book. He was hailed as God incarnate all over the world and his followers are to compulsorily chant ‘Buddham sharnam gachhami’.(O! Lord, I submit to your grace). On return home, he shared all his encounters with devils and dreaded devils with Yashodhara, his wife. His views on them are contained in Paali like this:

attahi athhno natho kohi natho paro siya”

BuddhaAnd one gets more or less a near factual translation of the above when a reference is made to Milton who wrote “…mind’s its own place and it can make hell of a heaven and heaven of a hell”. Man is the Master of his mind capable of controlling it the way he wants cleansing and purifying it.

All are angels here and no trace of a man:

images-21 A friend poet of mine once recited a Urdu poem to me a part of which reads like this:‘Hain sabhi yahan farishthey koi aadmi nahin hai’ (….all those present here in the mehfil are angels only as they are all sans a heart. Humans are identified as such as they could possess a heart to communicate, love, share and mutually exchange their feelings with one another and they take every thing to themselves both mentally as well as physically enjoying life which arena is denied to angels. Great poetess Mahadevi Verma aptly said “Rahney do hey Dev hamara marney jeeney ka adhikar”. Life is to live and not to let it go a sheer waste.