No more tears to shed for Thee...

In my Class 11, the year i moved into Sai's Intensive Care

సుప్రభాతమందు మింట నలకిన ఎరుపు నా అంగీ ఛాయయని,

నదులు చెప్పు గుసగుసల నడుమ నా సవ్వడి దాగుందని,

నిషా నింగి పరచిన తారాతివాచీ నా మందిర ముంగిటయని,

నిను తాకే చల్లని పవనము ముందుకు తడుతున్న నా ప్రేమ స్పర్శయని,

రంగుల పువ్వులలో, హరిత పంటలలో చిగురిస్తుంది నా చిరునవ్వేనని,

వాన జల్లులలో, మంచు కొండలలో స్వచ్ఛత నా నైజమని,

కనులు విప్పి చూడు, కప్పుకొన్న కలి దొంతర్ల నడుమ,

ఎదురుచూస్తుంటాను విసిగిపోక, ఇక నీ ప్రయాస సాగింపుమా!

I will not cry again on your departure, i now promise,

You never left me nor will you ever, so do i muse...

I logically decided that i should not cry any more on your departure, for every tear i shed would be a testimony to my faithlessness. I cry for those whom i might not meet again as the wheel of time completes the revolutions. To cry for those, of whom i constantly think, for whom all my acts are an attempt to please, is an act of betrayal. I am an insolvent dear, for i can never ever even repay the interest for the lessons you taught, the path you showed and the way you walked.

Every day as i walk, i remember to smile back to the flowers, pause a second to the songs of the morning birds, wait to watch a bird in flight, give way to a hurrying fellow traveller, observe innocent kids play and laugh, marvel at the leaves green, wonder at the water puddles after a heavy rain, notice the painted bodies of butterflies, the passing clouds, the still woods, the noisy crowds...i know you are there in each one of these and how can i ignore you as i pass?

I know you are happy when others are happy with me, you take pride when i succeed and never leave my side if i recede. You have never asked anything in return not even my thoughts on return. You invested your entire time so that our acts bear fruits that others relish, our hearts clean for others to lookup and our characters fine that they shine your reflection. You said, "My life is my message" but prodded us to live so that our lives too become your message!

I shall always remember that religion is a signpost, region is a geographic entity, language is a medium of communication, that culture is the way we live and not born into, jealousy and anger are luxuries we can ill afford, neither me nor my ego are at the centre of the universe, pride and pomp are too huge to accommodate, patience grows with understanding, that pleasure is an interval between pains, silence and controlled talk are unfading embellishments, warm smile and a kind word are always appreciated, discipline never disappoints, that we all are part of same cloth dyed in varied colours, listen to all, love all, serve all and above all to be aware that you alone WATCH our Words, Actions, Thoughts, Character and Heart.

* On April the 24^th, 2011 my Guru and God, Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai Baba shed HIS mortal frame. These are the thoughts with which i consoled myself to sleep and re-resolved to live by.

To Mom & Motherland

Lukshmi palace, Baroda, 24.07.2011.

కాలం మారినా ఏమిటో మారదు కొన్నిటి విలువ,

డబ్బూ బంగారం అంటే పొరపాటు, నే చెబుతుంది అమ్మ చలువ.

గుళ్ళూ గోపురాలు తిరిగితే పుణ్యం వస్తుంది కాబోలు,

అమ్మ మనస్సుకు నచ్చితే అదే కదా పదివేలు.

తాను తరుగుతూ కోరుతుంది మన భవిత పెరుగుదల,

కొవ్వొత్తికి వెలుగులా, నింగి మబ్బుకు వాన చినుకులా.

బాథ్యతతో మెలుగు మిత్రమా, అది వెన్నతో మలచిన హృదయం,

ప్రేమతో కరిగిన తన్మయం, బాథతో క్రుంగిన విషమయం.

అందుకే, పాపం చేసైనా పుడతాను ఎన్నిమార్లైనా మళ్ళీ,

ఎలా తీర్చగలము ఈ ప్రేమ ఋణం...ఓ  మమతల కల్పవల్లి.

Translation

Time, in its perpetuity fades monies and memories,

Alas! Fails to cloud the power of thy love and blessings.

What merit do i seek in these rituals for redemption?

To know in thy hands lies my fruition asks gumption.

Sinketh art thou to let my gondola safe from currents marine,

Liketh the expecting cloud conceiving myriad drops molten.

A string of words woven today, I place at the altar so divine,

To the God masked in a mother’s heart, speaking sermon sublime.

What act shall i commit to be reborn times multitude?

To be again for once called, “Thou art mine, My dear child”.

If No one walks with you, walk Alone

A friend’s FB status read, ‘Maturity spoils all the fun’. Impressed, i asked myself, “What is fun anyway?”. If to be aware of the long term consequences, to follow the footsteps of the wise and to stand on the shoulders of giants is not cool, then what else? Ignorance definitely isn’t funny. When i feel more isolated, lonely and confused, i was advised to apply this test to check the path i tread. With some customization this is what it is. 

1)   Am i being selfish and hurting someone in the process?

2)    Am i proud of bringing this to public knowledge?

3)    Will the heart that i admire and love the most, be happy about it?

It has worked for me till date in steering me back to where i wanted to be in my pursuit of what i wanted to be, without any side effects and i find no reason to abandon it for the fancy of some alien logic.

"When we are committed to a path that’s tough, be assured, we find the roads less crowded" the wise so say. On close observation, the tougher path is in fact a dotted line; it requires tiny leaps of faith, one at a time. We are neither alone nor uncared for. God is indeed the eternal gardener...don’t believe?  Subject yourself to a quiet moment and you find the truth waiting to be welcomed at your very door step.

“Then, why there is difference?”, i asked. Prompt came the reply. Some plants need to grow tall, some creep, some broad and yet some colourful. All are needed to make the garden complete and all are cared for as per their entitlements (the elegant theory of karma!). Does the tree sing a melancholy strain because the very root* that sustains it, also binds it. It realizes the limitation and grows broad and skyward. It happily submits it’s canopy as a caravan to the winged in their flights of fantasy. May be there is a lesson in this. I am waiting for my quiet moment.

* 'the sustaining root binding the tree’, is a phrase borrowed from one of my favourite Telugu film songs.

Stand on your own, do not borrow the feet!

Sign off in style...

Does the tree shout in gratitude to the clouds that fed it? It rises and looks into the eyes of the skies and says in silence how it was worthy of the love showered. Just like the rain that touches all under its purview, it too replicates by sharing its shade to all under its view. We too shall look into the eyes in the mirror and feel awed for we all shall one day look into the eyes of the maker and say in submission that we too learnt to give and forgive our fellowmen not for what they are but for what we are.

A word for a word, a smirk for a smirk makes us a mirror and nothing more. Then we turn out to live as per the wishes of our association, hoping acceptance and appreciation but losing on the way our true inner transcription. We change to our surroundings but not change our surroundings. Isn’t there a difference between cactus and jasmine? One adopts and the other asserts.

Changing and adopting for better is always desirable and adorable. But what is ‘better’ in this subjective prejudiced web we weave ourselves in? This can only be answered by a thinking mind, an oxymoron in today’s world. GB Shaw in his inimitable style says,"Few people think more than two or three times a year. I've made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week”. In this binary classification of thinkers and non-thinkers, i am striving hard but falling short in crossing over the hurdle, do lead me on!