The Work along the Fear~

I am tremendously scattered, scared and fearful. Haven’t been easy since morning. A sort of knife is cutting me edging me out in my stomach. As if I am here to give some exams.

....A Little Hide....from fear!

I am writing this only to feel myself better. Last few days, I have been realizing and experiencing the glimpses of fear- rather how close the fear lives in us. What befriends us is the fear. The closest friend I would say than the enemy. Sometimes, fear brings us more close to what is the truth and helps us to walk in the darkness.

Three incidences, that made me feel the jitters like butterflies around me. Yesterday again, my building caught fire, short circuit and peoples fridge, tv etc started to burst. Immediate reaction was the lump in stomach. Churning of blood pressure and the sounds in the mind- of death.

Second incident: One of our students mother was struck by psychotic attack few days ago and we admitted her in the hospital. Whole night I kept checking her stomach- why? just to see whether it was moving up and down. Yes, whether she was breathing. Whether she was alive. Fear- Death.

Third incident: One of our inmates – elderly- she gets epileptic attacks. Although, we had decided we would not have the admissions for epileptic patients, we had to take this one case since her family members would have killed her in someway for money. I was astonished to hear the story. But, this is also the truth.

Morning, I wake up, get to know about one more short circuit, my student’s phone call about her mother’s one more such behavior and my inmates one more major epileptic attack has set me on the fire of fear. I am trying to release it. And writing is the best way I can.

I wonder- all that happens happens through fear first. Love…..where are you? Don’t play hide and seek, because its only the fear that seeks me! Always!

The Urban Truth~

‘Let’s change the world.” Lets make a difference.” Lets be the transformer.’ I sometimes wonder, all these sentences play ones, twice, thrice or hundred times in your life, but you are back to not zero but minuses when you hear stories of people, or see someone living the real filthy truths in this life.

....it hurts...

I don’t think, I can actually touch anyone’s life. I don’t think I can make a difference and I don’t think, I can change the world. I don’t want to. Today, when I was confronted with the big truth of little boy at the station, I felt so small in front of him. I felt helpless, speechless and for a second, I just felt- useless.

While I stood in the que for the tickets, the little boy, barely 8 years came to me and said,- ‘Give me something, some money, just few coins. Please.’

‘If you do not have change, I will go across the streets, go to that shop and bring it for you. But please give me something now.’

Hearing him and looking at him, more than the money, he was doing that for something else. He looked scared and horrified. I asked him – what happened? He looked at some distance and stood straight in front of me in a position that no one from behind me could see him.

‘Well, don’t turn now. But behind you there are these two friends- who I am scared of,’ he said trembling a bit.

In few seconds, I turned back and saw that there were these two small boys- 8-9 years trying to find out where this little boy is.

‘So, what about them.’

He looked into my eyes and said- ‘They both smoke. I don’t smoke.’

Have heard this so many times, but coming it from this little shocked me a bit more.

‘If I don’t collect enough money, they will make me smoke forcefully.’

‘I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to smoke and I don’t want them also to do so. But do you think, I have a choice?’ he asked me interrogatively.

‘I know, if I collect the full amount, I will be sad looking at them- smoking. And if I don’t collect the amount, I will still be sad looking at their restlessness and sleeplessness. They wont be able to sleep or eat anything. They are so much habituated.’

‘Do you think, I have a choice?’ he repeated those helpless words again.

In that moment, I was startled. I was zapped. It felt as if, the stars in the sky broke down too and slipped away inside- deep down in this earth. I felt blank.

‘Can you give me some coins, I can cover my target if you do so,’ he said.

The boy kept looking at me and I kept looking at him.

What am I talking about making a difference? I thought to myself. I don’t know why- although the experience added fire to my purpose in life but it did leave me with the feeling of purposelessness. . . I just walked silently away from that boy- in midst of the crowd running to go somewhere, reach somewhere and that crowd including me- not knowing, why we are going where we are going.

I can’t write more. I feel heavy. This is my urban truth. When I am close to the truth and face it, I get carried away by the crowd!!! It is fun to be in the crowd then to taste the truth.

The drunk night~

How I found – God is a drunkard!

The man wakes me up each night before I could fall into deep sleep. He lives in the slums opposite to my building. His high wakes everyone in our colony and around his home. He drinks, and makes others feel drunk with his high voice – only abusing everything and everyone in the world.

...shall write about the picture soon~

His constant abuse would be blaming everyone around him. But sometimes, it feels he talks for everyone in this world. He talks his inner most self which is high on anger. Sometimes, his talks are annoying, but sometimes it just makes you feel- all this is so true. He cries asking god- why did he do what he did to him. One night, in between all his abuse, he says- ‘God, when I am not drunk, I cannot ask you all the questions that I do right now because I do not feel close to you. But now when I am drunk- you know I am insane. So at this level, you and me connect very well. I know here, I will understand your silence too, your insanity too.’

When I heard those words in his stuttering voice- I lived that insanity too. I felt for a moment, the man was himself the God.  In the midst of insanity, I felt one could find God. Because God hides behind all the things that cannot be spoken, I thought this to myself. I sighed for a moment looking at my ceiling- feeling as high as I could that moment. The anger for the man turned into gratitude.  I felt lot of love for that man.

The man never appeared to me after that night. His sound- only rings in my mind but not in reality. I never heard him again.

Did God appear as a drunkard? I wonder today also.

Life is a cot~

In front of me is the lady lying on a cot. She is sleeping and every turn she takes, the cot makes some weird screechy noise. I was embarked in observing her breathe. She was breathing loudly. She was snoring sometimes and sometimes, no sound of her sleep too.

...cot~

Yesterday, she was admitted in this hospital and directly put on sedatives. No options. Complaints of shouting, getting angry, physically and mentally abusive and grimacing most of the time. In short, a psychotic episode.

What really must have gone in her mind and triggered so hard that this imbalance shook the entire family? She is wonderful lady. Living in less than a bathroom size hut with a husband and three children. Whole night she sits on machine to stitch people’s clothes. Morning, sends are children to school, prepares breakfast, food for husband, washes the dishes , clothes and cleans the house. This is not it! She goes to work too.

Isn’t that an enough reason for a high amount of stress? I do not know, why I am writing this. But probably feeling better after this sleepless night which went on thinking about people in India and all over the world- about the mental health. I wondered – is it poverty that struck mental illness or is it mental illness- that we all suffer from struck poverty?

The onset of the problem lies in all the ‘lies’ ‘superstitions,’ ‘beliefs’ especially the societal and cultural ones and this really saddens me that- although we are born free, we are yet not free from the cot. The cot of life that makes noise even if we try to move by an inch.

 

The Blind Bangles~

I was in the train; locals of Mumbai.

The train ran fast and the sounds of the tracks cracked in my ears. The train halted at some station and an old lady entered inside the train with great efforts. When I saw closely, she had a stand along with her- she was selling accessories.

Bangles~

They looked beautiful. But further, I noticed that the old lady could not see. She was blind and she sang aloud- ‘Beautiful Bangles for you, beautiful ladies! Buy them today! You are meant to look beautiful today. Tomorrow, your mirror may be alone!’

Something tore deep, deep inside me. I smiled and the smile went down with this tearing- opened the door of unknown hurt and love I felt that moment hearing the old woman.

‘I want those bangles,’ I looked at her and said. I felt awkward, because I could not point at the bangles or look into her eyes for a response. She raised her hands, and exactly picked up those bangles that I needed. They were colorful, in deed. Made of wood and tied with colorful threads.

She sat besides me while I removed the money.

‘Oh girl, give the money afterwards, first wear these bangles. I made them.’ She reached out for my hands and started to make me wear it one by one.

‘Where do you stay?’ I asked her.

‘Girl, I stay in the slums – on the road. I stay alone. In the night when I go back, I tie threads to these wooden bangles.’

‘But how can you see at night. It is so dark!’ I said that and I was stumped at my own question.  I completely forgot that she couldn’t see.

‘My heart and my hands- serve as my eyes. And these Bangles for me is the body of God. I feel I dress God every night. It feels God comes to me through these bangles,’ she said those words, took the money and went.

I froze that moment, looking at those bangles. I was in deed blind to them. Between every bangle lives the soul, empty and see through. That’s how I should be too, I thought to myself. Nothing, empty and transparent. I was left with tears in my eyes and an imprint in my heart. I love you bangle lady! You made me cry- you made me touch my soul.

The train was still moving and everything went silent, silent on  the tracks.

God falling on me~

I and my dearest friend, angel and my little guide- Amrisha were in Rajouri Garden Market today in Delhi. While we were walking on the streets and enjoying the cold and lovely weather, she spoke of the tallest Shiv Idol (Murti) in Gurgoan.

....Shiva....

‘I was very small and tiny when I’d been there. The idol is so tall that even the airplanes have to change their routes,’ she said with many un-explanatory child-like exclamations on her face.

‘When I stood, close to the idol and looked up, I felt that the God will fall on me. But I also felt, so what if it falls. After all, it is GOD that’s falling on me,’ she said this and laughed.

In my mind- the episode ran through and I felt that it is still true. When you see anything very very tall standing in front of you, you will feel it is falling on you. Isn’t it that God, who stands so close, so tall, up above seems to be falling on us? He is always falling on us, it is important for us to look up~

‘God, do you sometimes feel, that we are falling on you?’

‘Always,’ God says in my mind. 🙂

Principle of Statue of ‘Liberty’

She was a German woman, sitting next to me and sipping hot black coffee. She was visiting India for the first time and had completely lost on her health due to traveling, food and exertion.

‘Have you been to Kerala?’ she asked me.

‘It is beautiful!’ she exclaimed.

‘I have heard it. Not been there,’ I said.

We were at the guest house called Lucknow Home- stay and an amazingly divine place, I must say. I was there past 6 days and haven’t really gone to see any places around.

‘Today we plan to travel to Imambada. You must have been there for sure,’ she looked at me and said.

I smiled, rather laughed and said- ‘No.’

She smiled nodding her head and shared her experience.

‘I know you will be going tomorrow to Mumbai, and that’s why I am sharing this with you.

Statue of Liberty- New York

‘I had an uncle in New York and he lived there for 32 years. But the interesting thing is, he’d never been to Statue of Liberty. Now can you imagine- someone staying there for so long, but haven’t seen the Statue of Liberty in real.’

‘It happens with us. The things that are close to us, we always tend to say to ourselves- may be later, may be later, may be later.’

‘He died few years ago- without seeing Statue of Liberty.’

When she said those words- I wondered about Mumbai. I wondered how much of Mumbai do I really know, how many great places – big or small in Mumbai, I have been to. How many cuisines, have I really tried and how many such temples and historical places I know of in Mumbai. I lived there for more than 25 years now, but!!!

I would call it as a ‘Principle of Statue of Liberty.’ Somethings are already there and we do not see it. We know it but we just keep to knowing it than being it.

Same is the case with my relationships.

The more the close the relationships, the more we delay ‘doing’ things with them. I need to really look within, as in what are the things I have been putting on hold just because no matter what they will be there for me. I need to embrace my relationships.

I do have liberty to choose my actions. Do I really want to be a statue or do I really want to feel the liberation by actually living it? I have so much to write. But, I am at the moment, sitting at Lucknow airport, waiting for a ‘delayed’ flight.

I am here, without seeing the famous -Imambada.

Thank you my dear German friend.

I shall be back to Lucknow soon~

Little About Lucknow~

Today, finally I am here. In the midst of coldness and blankets.

My hands are freezing and so are my fingers melting in this little place- I love – called Lucknow. I have not seen much of this place, but what I have seen and felt are two different things. I have seen really BIG ROADS! NOPE! I AM JOKING! 😛

Nothing like Aminabad....!!! NO SPACE

The roads of Lucknow just pass over you as if they are as thin as your veins and as fragile as your nerves. Oh! I should have said the opposite, but its okay. But ‘its okay’ has a real meaning in Lucknow. I guess, the city runs on this mantra. Everything is okay. You break the traffic signal- it is okay. You spit at the airport, it is okay. You bad eye a girl continuously without a wink- it is okay or you may just jump off the running train on the tracks because there is no station. Most of all, you may take a ride and see the great monuments with branded bags. You know who am I talking about- but the mantra remains the same – It is okay!

I smiled at what I wrote. Have never been so sarcastic. But I love this place. Its full of lovely sarcasm. I must say though that – people here need directions, help, guidance. The slums I saw- they looked naked. The people who live on the road looked dry with happiness and the talk of the people I hear is dark red. Dark red voice….what does that mean? It means eating 25 pans a day to keep you going for 24 by 7.

This place has given me joy too. I have met lovely people from all over the world. Holland, Germany, Banaras, Japan etc. and having some interesting experiences with them; drinking and eating their local biscuits, soups and some ready-made food. I tried something today- a hot japanese ready made soup.

‘I liked the taste,’ I told Takashee, Japanese friend.

‘Yes, it is made with fish,’ he said.

‘Are you a non-vegetarian?’

I look at him- halted before another sip in danced down my throat….

and nodded – No!

‘Ooopss. I should have asked before,’ he said.

and all that I had to do was- gulp the soup down in my system, smile and say

….’Takashee…it is okay!’

Well, I am learning this language too!

Untitled~

Most of the time, I feel and run behind giving some label to my life- ‘happy’, ‘sad’, satisfied etc. But neither of it stays or sustains itself. It flips and rolls over to something unknown and sometimes, it just goes blank. Blank is still a label, but what to do during times when life goes untitled. You do not know what is happening.

Untitled Life

Too many things happening and not happening in my life simulateneously.  I look at the road I walked to  be here. But wait, I’d started walking the path of unknown…so I cannot very much say- I wanted to be here. I did not know what is going to happen next or rather where and which way, will I take turns.

I feel a snowball stuck up between my heart and stomach and it does choke me up but I also feel that it is snow and it will melt eventually. I feel like saying I am tired of understanding and looping myself to people to fill up the space of untitled life that I am living right now.

At this moment, I wonder how does a little one in the mother’s womb title his /her life- ‘a womb-full life,’ where everything is floating without any moment!- stillness yet reaching the title of ‘birthing’

May be untitle-life is birthing!

My friend Vibhore~

I am coming too close to my writing. And that’s where my soul is.

But what has my writing to do with my friend Vibhore?

Certainly.

...in contemplation...

I feel, people come into your lives to tell you stories – of others or themselves. They reflect you and the dots of your stories and join the strings of your thoughts. This string of thoughts always extends to new destination when I meet Vibhore. I think, I will dedicate this piece to myself as it is his story that opens the lid of gift that I already have in me, rather, each one has this gift – the gift of realizations and as you open this gift of realization- you find nothing but yourself~

Vibhore, young man with all his senses misplaced yet with complete consciousness. I can say, he is dismantled for the right thing in life or rather than using the word ‘right’ – the thing that he really loves doing. Today, when I met him , he shared about how sharing happens after saturation. Most of the people realize that- enough is enough- they got to do things that really can contribute to the society. They got to share so that their lives can be filled with complete satisfaction- then just normal running behind, money- marriage- matter.

‘I realized it for myself- that sharing happened after this saturation point. I wished that it had happened much earlier in my life,’ said he.

‘I now pray that people don’t wait for such phase of points in their lives and starts sharing and contributing much before and make it as a part of their lives.’

Vibhore – fought with his parents to come to India from Chicago, be in the rural villages and serve his being and give meaning to his life. I do not know whether he  really feels he is adding meaning to his life but he, in some way adds lot of anecdotes, full stops, exclamations and three dots to my life.

But this is what he shared when I shared what I wrote for him –

” I am satisfied at the present
moment, though it doesn’t come across because of the desire to
continue on this journey (in rural India). Having said that, the
meaning and the satisfaction comes from the inner journey & it is not
bound by any timeline or geographic location”

I know Vibhore may have felt saturated but I also know, he is living this satisfaction

……

…I leave these dots here… because I do not know what he really wants ….

Just wrote this to thank this dear friend with whom I always share the line before we depart….

‘We meet, when we meet~’