To fear or not to fear

Life is patience ... however fast it goes whether you realize it or not, you are forever patient, always waiting for something . Some inanely precious object always beyond your grasp , no matter how many times you get it , it manifests and you desire.

I wondered how a new year changes you, not just what you decide for yourself , your resolutions, ambitions etc . I wondered what changes in you when the clock strikes 12. In that transition from the last second of the year to the next, albeit a new one, what changes ?

I went inward to find out what changed in me. I fear less, which by no means is something great. The list of what I fear is quite long and quite tedious in its details, but I fear less.

Here is what I crossed off my fear list the minute, the second I entered the new year:

1) I don't care for the mayan calendar

2) I am going to watch my weight .. while I eat ... that's it ..just watch it and not control it.

3) I will not lose you. Yes you.

4) I will not fear hate, it exists.

5) Death is going to come my way but arthritis is going to get here sooner , I do not fear the former as much as the later, which incidentally is scaring me shit-less.

6) I will not be scared of someone else's success, after all it is not my failure.

7) I will not constantly fear the future .

8) I will not be startled by my shadow when I walk alone in the city

9) I will stop fearing the egg drop soup in the chinese take out below my house... as much as I detest a sick stomach, the soup is unlike any other.

I think 9 is a good number of things to stop fearing.

- MM

Where did the words go ?

I went on a writing freeze. I could not emote anymore. I could not move my pen. Their was no happiness. Life these days does not give you an inch to breath and take a step back to look at where you are heading. You work, you come back home, you work. You are in a constant state of distrust, society is being structured that way. Its all about competition. The dumb can't survive, the average stay in the middle and the bright ones shine.

I became jaded, the only emotion I felt was the need to be someone, the need to prove myself because the world suddenly became my enemy. I became a victim but their was no crime. That put me on a writing freeze, because the honest emotions I felt became increasingly absent. The politics, the news, the finances the problems etc. Emotion just varied between disgust and fear.

Then something happened, something so inconsequential and insignificant became life changing at least for me because my words are my emotions. I was in an airplane going somewhere, a passenger sitting three rows behind me started to have a seizure. The only medics in the airplane were a couple with a 2 yr old girl and a ten month old boy, Since I was sitting right behind them , they handed me the 10 month old boy so that they could help the female experiencing the seizure. Let me tell you, this kid did not blink the entire time I was holding him, I mean literally. I am excellent at not blinking and I often win at the silly game but this kid could beat me hands down. At this point I was eyeing the kid with a lot of distrust, what was he seeing with his uncanny clear blue eyes. Then somewhere in the texan skies he smiled, a very watery one at that, it could have been a burp ...but I think it was definitely a smile and then he leaned onto me and that watery smile landed on my nose. It was the single most touching moment in my life because I did not think, my mind was absent of any thoughts except holding this cute cute kid who had just shown me spontaneity, he released from a grasp that I was not aware I was in. He freed me from a road to complete cynicism. It was as if a pressure had been released. I was able to write that night.

Above all, it took a seizure to get me to write again. I hope this is the last time that happens, because its really scary when someone falls sick in an airplane :P ... seriously I am not kidding.

- Until the next one, since the words are just here.

hold my hand

I remember my grandmother. She is alive, but the shell of a woman of who used to be. I
remember her. I remember a woman who stood hours at a time, in worship at a shrine. I
remember a woman who told me stories about why I worship, who I worship, and how I
worship. They were not mere exotic creatures of admiration, but gods who lived a man’s
life and suffered for us. I never understood the stories, the meaning and the morals then. All
I knew was that i had to fold my hands and bow my head.

There is no memory lane to travel back on to the past, but rather memories that travel with
me. I hear her chants , her devotion and her wisdom quite constantly. I found god in a hand
that held me in a crowded temple. I found god in the lips that taught me how to pray.

I was 7. She woke me up at 4:30 AM on a deepavali morning, Massaged oil in my hair
and told me the story of Ram. Then, I was 10, and I stayed up all night for shivarathiri
with her. I was 15 when she held my hand, tearing, chanting govinda govinda govinda
in thirupathi. I was 18 when day after day she stood in the murugan temple chanting
kandashashtikavacham. I found god, not through miracles, but by witnessing faith, by
witnessing patience, by witnessing a woman who prayed for the sake of love.

I remember my grandmother. She continues to pray, ,not affected by cynicism, death or
sorrows. I have seen god; she held my hand and never let go. Still.

- MM

ps: thanks ps for the idea and the inspiration. Though not a story, a story nonetheless :)..

AUGUSTEN BURROUGHS- RUNNING WITH SCISSORS

I have a good life, not great but a good one... a decent one at most. I have a lot of wants but most of my needs are taken care of. I complain a lot about how bad my life is , I almost always forget to thank my blessings.

At one time or the other someone always drowns me in a bucket-load of cold water to wake me up from the Universe of Me, A much deserved dose of reality. My dose of reality is Augusten Burrough's book - Running with Scissors. The book is good, the Humour masks almost everything Sad. I recommend this book to almost everybody (Above 18.., Like that's a warning!!).

The first chapter is almost the only set of pages which comes close to resemble normalcy, the rest of the book is full of twist and turns ,almost impossible to guess what is going to happen next. I cannot believe that this is someones real life experience!!!, I have never been to a psychiatrist (God forbid!! What can of worms that would open!!) , but his first person account of an eccentric one did leave a lasting impression on me.

Read here for more :

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Running_with_Scissors_(memoir)

So that leaves me here: Counting my blessing!!

Self-Realized!!!

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The blogger's views are purely emotional, and has nothing against any religious sect. God, if you are reading, please get me the internship I always wanted!!!!

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Yes, don't read, the content is bound to depress you if you are not philosophical or cynical.I am humbled by time. It not only loots away my youth,my memories and my loved ones, above all it never regrets. We cloth ourselves in pretense. We suffocate ourselves trying to believe the image of who we are not. No matter how much you try nothing lasts for ever. Which leads one to question about this depressing world we live in. I would like to meet the almighty , I want to know if we are a part of his own tragic movie. Death by itself is not a final blow, self realization is. Every spiritual book talks about self-realization. I believe in it because it puts the fear of god in me, but I question its validity because I am human. I think this is what passive aggressiveness is all about. I secretly detest something I have chosen to believe and respect.

Let me tell you which part of self-realization has me thinking whether our Creator is a software guy after all. He develops something really awesome like the world with really awesome functionality(food,porn,mmmmm food?) and delivers the damn thing to the customer(err..humans) and tells he/she that the end product is useless because it kind of corrupts your whole system , so contact customer service(hmmm i guess this would be god) to get some gyan on what to do next. Self-realization is attaining god by overcoming desire,love,sorrow,pain,hate etc... Well , can you realize my horror, when I found self-realization I was trying to meet a deadline. I realized the pointlessness of everything. I am a grown adult(trust me I have seen tiny adults) , who has lived life to the maximum till now, and I have realized what it is to be self-realized. You know what's the worst part ? I still have a deadline to meet.

-Me

Homeless at home

Recently I saw a woman of Asian origin taking a 7-up bottle from a garbage can and drink from it. We were both waiting for the local train in the subway. Our train came, we got into the same compartment , throughout the journey I could not help but stare at her. She was about 5'3 ,plump and in her late forties. She begged for money from passengers, no one spared her a glance and part of her I guess did not expect anyone to. No matter what, she was always smiling.

I have never been homeless. Never experienced dearth of food. Even though I have gone through some lean times , After seeing her I felt I had never suffered enough. I wondered if I gave her ten dollars , would that be enough? , Probably for me and my conscious. I never understood how much help is enough . I am by no means rich , I do not have jobs to give at my disposal , what can I do but give her 10 dollars?

I will always remember her , the subway lady. She taught me a very valuable lesson. She taught how never to complain about how little I have.

"Buddha" - Deepak Chopra

For the uninitiated , I am one of you. I recently happened to find Buddha , not one from a Feng Shui store but one from a book store. Deepak Chopra's Buddha is by far the best book of his I have read and a book which moved my core.

The book talks about the early life of Siddhartha ,how he became Gautama and eventually the all knowing omnipresent Buddha. The book is not a spiritual book , but one that talks about a young man's fears and doubts . It talks about a man, whose thirst of knowledge was very beyond his time, whose father would do almost anything to stop him from learning his destiny. Above all it talks about a young man not unlike you and me in search of his true destiny.

I find the book almost sacred , almost. Only because I would never treat the laughing Buddha or any Buddha for the matter, as a decor.