Life and Hope

This is a video montage made with the help of one true media with pictures courtesy postsecret and music courtesy The Cat Empire.The song playing in the background is 'Misere' by the Cat Empire and is one of my favourite songs ever.
Hope you like this.
Merry Christmas everyone.

My First Love

No one forgets their first love.The indescribable rush that it brings, always holds a special place in our hearts.You have loads memories of the time you spent together.You thought you'd spend the rest of your lives together. First love, so naive, so immature, so unsophisticated, yet ever so charming!. The novelty, like the first drops of dew on an untouched leaf, of the feeling makes it special and unforgettable.

I first fell in love a few years ago, four to be precise. I was sixteen and just out of school. It was something like that Craig Douglas song 'only sixteen'

I was only sixteen, only sixteen
I loved her so
But I was too young to fall in love
And she was too old, I know

So who was this mystery woman, and why was this love frowned upon by many?

Let us begin by giving her a title. In no way Miss, because she had been "around for a while". Not Mrs, because that brings to mind notions of responsibility at home.That is something definitely not for her. And Ms always brings to my mind desirous, power-hungry females. No, we have to travel abroad for her title.My apologies to all respectably-married Francophones out there, but for the rest of us, this title is synonymous with Gallic naughtiness - Madame. But Madame who?

A friend of mine in Bombay first introduced me to Madame Nicotine. As I said, she "put out a lot". And for a sixteen-year-old in search of excitement and experience, she seemed to be the answer to my adolescent prayers. I remember the first time as though it were only yesterday. It took place in a dark and secluded corner, of course. But I will never forget the excitement as she first brushed my lips and her taste as she entered my mouth.

And then afterwards i experienced the exhilaration, the guilt and the nausea. I decided there and then, that this was a dangerous lady, once was enough, no more.

And so it stayed that way for a few months. Then we met again, and I succumbed again. "But no problem", I thought to myself, "I can take her and leave her". So I left her. But a feew weeks later, I took her once more. And so it went on, and each time she grew on me just a little bit more. Less nausea, more excitement, more satisfaction.

Until the day came that I realized we were inseparable. We were meant for each other, and I was her willing slave. I began to spend more and more on her, because she didn't come cheap. My parents warned me to stay away from her. They said she was bad for me. But I didn't care. I would flaunt our relationship in public, deliberately parading her around. As an exchange student, I would often spend money on her instead of food, because when I was with her, I no longer felt hungry. She became a part of my every waking moment.

When I started college, I started spending more and more on her. We couldn't get enough of each other. We would consummate our relationship twenty times a day. Sometimes it would be eager and greedy. I would snatch gratification from her selfishly. Other times it would be gentle, relaxed and we would enjoy ourselves in the quiet company of each other. Often, I would take her for granted, my hand reaching out for her unconsciously, taking her while my mind was on other things. But as long as I kept spoiling her with my money, she didn't mind at all.

Over the years we grew closer and closer to each other. We were inseparable. Not a day would pass without us meeting. I felt guilty, of course. Not only was she was taking my money, which should have gone into other things, but she was also harming my health. At first I paid no heed to the second aspect. But slowly i realized that I was not as fit as i wanted to be and Madame Nicotine was to blame.

Many times I tried to give her up. I told her so. She just laughed in my face. She knew my weaknesses too well. And of course I couldn't live without her. Before long, I would come crawling back. She always took me back, for sure, but not without making me feel weak and humiliated. She always knew how to humiliate me. How many times, discovering late at night that she was no longer there, did I wander the streets searching for a place where I might find her? Or, being somewhere where she was not allowed, how often did she entice me outside, for a quick and sordid liason in the pouring rain or in the snow.

Finally I decided "Enough is enough". She was bad for my health, bad for my pocket, her scent always covered me and revealed our shameful relationship to the world . I announced to her that we were finished. How did she react?

Exactly like Cruella de Ville on steroids. "You'll never leave me", she spat out in rage, "you are weak and puny and have no will power at all. You have now idea how much I'll make you suffer!"

She was right. Those first few weeks were a living hell. Often I would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, wanting to go back to her. When I saw her with someone else, my insides burned with rage.I could not stop thinking about her. For the first few days,she was all that was on my mind every waking second.

I don't know what stopped me going back to her. In desperation I flung myself into the arms of Miss Chewing Gum. She was a sweet thing, sure enough, and for a few brief moments she could take my mind off Madame Nicotine, but she had neither the personality nor the depth nor the sheer naughtiness of my former lover to make it a lasting relationship. And I think she always knew that. She knew that she was my rebound and that when she had served my selfish needs, I would throw her away into a trash can. Sometimes people are like that. But she fulfilled her purpose, and finally I was free.

That was a while ago. Every now and then I see her again, in the distance, in a cafe or bar, and she gives me a look of sad reproach. For a very brief moment, I remember our good times together, that first time she brushed my lips, those years we spent together through thick and thin, those years she was always by my side.

Like I said at the beginning of this post, "We never forget our first love".If we do try to blot it out of our memory then I ask you, what is worth remembering?

Homesickness

Its Christmas time.Its that time of year when everyone is at home with their families celbrating the birth of Christ. Sadly this year that is not the case with me. Although we do not celebrate Christmas at home, there is a feeling of homesickness inside of me right now.All my friends are back home with their families and sadly I am sitting here at home all alone yearning to be with mine too 4000 kms away dreaming of home.

I hear the mountain birds
The sound of rivers singing
A song I've often heard
It flows through me now
So clear and so loud
I stand where I am
And forever I'm dreaming of home
I feel so alone, I'm dreaming of home

It's carried in the air
The breeze of early morning
I see the land so fair
My heart opens wide

There's sadness inside
I stand where I am
And forever I'm dreaming of home
I feel so alone, I'm dreaming of home

This is no foreign sky
I see no foreign light
But far away am I
From some peaceful land
I'm longing to stand
A hand in my hand
Forever I'm dreaming of home.

For the Fallen

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

I dedicate these words from the fourth stanza of poet Laurence Binyon's poem 'For the Fallen' to those 15 policemen and 2 NSG commandos who lay down their lives for their country battling terrorists on the 26th of November.Their sacrifice is something very distinguished and worthy of mention in the annals of Indian history.

Today as I sit here in my room on my laptop blogging,I pause for a moment and salute these men for their valour.The Good Lord now has another 17 angels with which to guard his gates to Heaven.

You will never be forgotten. May you all rest in peace.

Popular Music: A Savage Hypocrisy

How do you kill a song? Step one, you ensure it’s played by all the popular guys on campus. Step two, uh, there is no step two. Why? Because people will pick it up from the ‘cool’ guys. If all the cool guys listen to it,it is sure to become a fad. The song will spread like wildfire. Soon, it will be blaring out of every car,ipod or music system. That’s how it may stay for weeks, perhaps months. But gradually, people will stop playing it, because they will eventually realize that it’s cool to be different. Finally, after the song has been rejected by the masses, playing it will become one of the most uncool things one can possibly do. And if no one plays it, you can be sure you have murdered the song, because songs are written to be heard.

There are many songs which used to be cool, once upon a time. But if you play them now, people will think you have an unsophisticated taste in music and that you are trying to follow a trend. Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life”, Green Day’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”, Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” and RHCP’s “Californication” are a few prominent examples. I bet the same will happen to RHCP’s “Snow”.

Some bands are perennially hot! Buy why does your liking for one band define the whole of your musical horizons? The rule of thumb most people love to use goes something like this:

· If you like Pink Floyd, then you’re like everyone else.

· If you like Iron Maiden, you are a metalhead.

· If you like Cradle of Filth, you are a goth.

· If you like RHCP and Metallica, you are a nice kinda guy.

· If you like Arctic Monkeys, Gorillaz, Nine Inch Nails or POD, you’re taste is interesting.

· If you like Linkin Park,Backstreet Boys,Nsync, Limp Bizkit, Maroon 5, DJ Shadow or Alanis Morissette, you are a pussy.

Some genres of music are perennially uncool. In my city,Pune, any hiphop song which doesn’t have Eminem or 50 Cent rapping in it is as uncool as classical sitar-and-tabla jugalbandis. Same with jazz, nu metal and electronica. And what is wrong with everyone’s ears? No one seems to be able to hear the bass guitar on a track, even if it’s blasting away at 120 decibels. In essence, things are pretty fucked up. Thus ends my little lecture, entitled "Popular Music: A Savage Hypocrisy". Goodbye!

Guitar Chords: Tum Ho Toh, Rock On!!

Rock On released this Friday and just as a lot of people expected, the movie rocked. Though the storyline was as obvious as the lyrics of most of the songs, the beauty of this movie was its directness and its simplicity. It managed to touch my heart more than once and then some more. The dialogues of the movie were a fresh breath of air. But I am not here to review the movie!!

I admit I wasn’t excited by the songs during the music release. The lyrics seemed more amusing than amazing. But after seeing the movie because of persistence of my friends that the songs are good, I ended up enjoying myself more than I had imagined!

Tum ho toh has become one of my favourite songs. Farhan Akhtar proves that he can sing really well. I am actually becoming his fan for his singing. He truly carries the rock feel in his voice. I would love to hear some more numbers from him in near future.

Anyways here are the lyrics to the song alongwith the guitar chords which I figured out.Post your comments and let me know what you think.

Tum Ho (C)Toh… Gaata Hai (C)Dil,
Tum Na(Dm)hi… Toh Geet Ka(G)ha…
Tum Ho (C)Toh… Hai Sab Haa(C)sil,
Tum Na(Dm)hi… Toh Kya Hai Ya(G)ha…

(F)Tum Ho Toh Hai,
Sap(Bm)no Ke Jaisa Ha(G)sin
Ek Sa(C)maa…

Jo (G)Tum Ho Toh, Yeh (E)Lagta Hai,
Ke (Am)Mil Gayi, (F)Har Khushi…
Jo (G)Tum Na Ho, Yeh (E)Lagta Hai,
Ke (Am)Har Khushi, Me (F)Hai Kami…

(G)Tum Ko Hai Maangati…(G)
Ye Jinda(C)giiii (Em) iiiii (F) iiii…(C)

(Gm)Woh ho… (Gm)Woh ho… (C)Woh ho ho… ho ho…

Tum Ho (C)Toh… Raahein Bhi (C)Hai,
Tum Na(Dm)hi… Toh Raste Ka(G)ha…
Tum Ho (C)Toh… Yahaan Sab Hi (C)Hai,
Tum Na(Dm)hi.. Toh Kaun Ya(G)haa…

(F)Tum Ho Toh Hai, Har (Bm)Ek Pal Meher(G)ban
Ye Ja(C)haaa…

Jo (G)Tum Ho Toh, Ha(E)wa Mein Bhi…
Mo(Am)habbato… Ka (F)Rang Hai
Jo (G)Tum Na Ho, Toh (E)Phir Koyi…
Na (Am)Josh Na… U(F)mang Hai…

(G)Tum Mile Toh Mili
Yeh Jinda(C)giiii (Em) iiiii (F) iiii… (C)

(Gm)Woh ho… (Gm)Woh ho… (C)Woh ho ho… ho ho… x2

Happy strumming.

Dear Mr. Terrorist

Dear Mr Terrorist,

I want to know if you were born without a heart.Are you so empty that you cannot feel and love?When innocent people die and others are left to mourn their losses, do you sit and laugh? Are you such an empty shell that you want to snatch the peace out of everyone?Does it not pain you to see others suffering? Do you not cringe when you see people in agony?Do you enjoy tearing lives, households and communities apart?Are you as naive as a 5 year old that you blame and condemn others, rather than own up to mistakes?

I seriously doubt it. You are the devil reincarnated, who ought to be in hell. You are soulless and gutless. You lack the sense of humanity and compassion that man should have for his fellow man. You have no proper purpose in life. You blow up hospitals, places meant to help the sick and the wounded. You sink lower than anyone would ever even dream of.

Do us all a favour you gut maggot with no guts, GO HOME AND DIE.

This is for the terrorists who planted bombs in Bangalore and Ahmedabad on the 25th and 26th of July 2008,killing and injuring scores of innocent people.
This is also for those scumbags involved in the Mumbai attacks on the 26th of November 2008.

The Essence of Sufism

Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Raheem was-salaat was-salaam `ala Nabiyyina wa Habeebina wa Mawlana Muhammadin wa `ala alihi wa sahibihi ajma`een

We each come from a different background. Perhaps some of you are following a Sufi path in your own life and perhaps others are drawn to the name and wondering what this path of Sufism might be. If you’re in the latter category I thought it might be helpful to begin by saying something about the meaning of the term Sufism. Even if you’re in the first category it might be helpful. Because Sufism, it should be remembered first of all, is a neologism – a newly coined word. And I must say it’s not only a neologism but also a misnomer, a badly coined word, and that is because it contains an “ism” and the “ism” subverts the essential meaning of the word because an “ism” always suggests a closed community, an ideology, a doctrine -- and Sufism, in essence, is none of those things. So if we want to truly know what Sufism is it would be helpful to go back to the original word in Arabic which is tasawwuf. It’s not quite as easy to pronounce but it contains a more accurate meaning because it is a verbal noun, and so it refers to a process of becoming. It’s not static, but dynamic. Tasawwuf literally means the process of becoming a Sufi. So from the outset one understands that it is not a club to which you belong or do not belong, it is a transformative experience.

But then the question is: What is a Sufi? What is the end result of that process? Since the earliest days when this word came into currency -- tasawwuf and Sufi -- the Sufis have given their answers to the question, what is a Sufi? Each of those answers differs. Each of those answers is a facet of the single reality that is the meaning of being a Sufi. I would like to share with you some of those definitions which are like Arabic Qurans that help to orient us in a process toward which we can only distantly perceive its goal. I have some of the definitions .

The first is from a Sufi named Abu’l-Hasan Bushanji:

“Sufism today is a name without a reality that was once a reality without a name.”

That was said back in the eighth or ninth century.

And from Ibn al-Jalla:

“Sufism is an essence, a truth. There is no form, no ritual, no custom in it. It is pure essence.”

These two sayings go together. Sufism was a reality that has now become a form, has now become a name that is no longer a reality. True Sufism is always a reality that eludes form. It can never be fully embodied in form and takes on all manner of forms, innumerable forms for its expression and manifestation. And yet its whole essence remains secret, hidden, beyond form. The Sufis have always recognized the process whereby a hidden secret is institutionalized, commodified and known to the world as a form while the Sufis themselves, in secret, concealed its essence and carried on. This has happened over the generations. Time after time a transmission has been passed down from person to person from heart to heart without intermediary, always from heart to heart.

If you think about your family history -- you can perhaps identify some oral traditions in your family -- family customs and memories. How far can those be traced back? Two or three or four generations? Can you imagine a tradition that has been passed down, without form, but continuously and without interruption, as the primary imperative of the life of each of its carriers, over millennia? That is the formless tradition that is alluded to in these sayings.

Of course, it’s not to say that Sufis haven’t written books. The very same Sufis who said that it could never be put into words went on to write multi-volume encyclopedias. But at the end of the day, they knew that words fail.

I hope you here, reading this, is familiar with the eloquence of Mawlana Jalal al-Din Rumi, the great poet. He was a professor in Konya and he used to teach his students with big piles of books stacked up in front of him. One day a seeming madman blew in from the desert and rather rudely interrupted the class. He came to the front and, pointing at the books, said, “What’s all of this?”

Rumi couldn’t be bothered by a foolish question like that and said, “You don’t know.” He gestured to him to sit in the back and there Shams, the dervish, sat. Suddenly the pages of the books started to burn. Great flames were leaping from the desk. Rumi jumped up and said, as he looked at Shams, “What is this!”

Shams replied, “You don’t know.”

Ultimately, transcendent knowledge can never be encapsulated in words and is always passed down from heart to heart.

Here is the next definition, from Abu’l-Hasan al-Nuri, a great early Sufi:

“Sufism is not rituals and forms and is not bodies of knowledge, not doctrines, not ideas, not theories. But it is impeccable manner, the manner of the lover in the presence of the Beloved.”

That is the very essence of the law. The religious law exists to keep us in check when we are unaware of the presence of the Beloved. When one is in the awesome intimacy of the Beloved, one’s behavior rises to a degree of perfection that is otherwise unattainable. Probably you have noticed in your own life that you behave according to different standards depending on who you are with. And the one that you most idealize, the one who is most beloved, in the presence of that one, you are on your best behavior. Sufism, then, is living life in that constant presence.

There was a Sufi murshid (teacher) once in India who said to his students, “Unfortunately the time has come that we have to change our tactics. Until now we’ve just been receiving alms from whomever will spontaneously give, but things have become very difficult and now I will have to ask you to take something surreptitiously. Go out and steal something. The one provision is that you can’t do it when anyone is looking.”

People came back with all kinds of things: someone had a chicken and someone else brought a purse, and only one of the students came back with empty hands. And the murshid said, “I gave you very clear orders to steal something and you have brought back nothing!”

The student said, “I had to obey your caveat not to do it when anyone was looking, and God was looking everywhere.”

This, then, relates to the next definition, which is again from that very great early Sufi, Abu’l-Hasan al-Nuri.

“The Sufi is one who possesses nothing and is possessed by nothing.”

In the East you will find fakirs who interpret this very literally. They possess nothing. They are wandering mendicants who own nothing. And there are others who live in palaces in great opulence but are completely detached from the wealth, ready to release it at any moment. They are playing a role in the world. That is the essence of what is meant by not possessing and not being possessed. Possessing means grasping, being addicted, being unable to part from something. The Sufi is addicted, being unable to part with only one thing and that is the One Being who is ever-present and can never be lost or stolen. So one finds that the less one possesses, psychically possesses, the less one is possessed. Because all the things of life, as one collects them, just weigh one down. Of course, there will come a time, whether in this life or in the next when everything, item by item, will have to be released. It can be voluntary or involuntary.

This lesson was learned by a very great early Sufi whose name was Ibrahim Adham Balkhi. He was the king of Balkh which was a kingdom in Afghanistan. At that time it was a rich, composite culture in Afghanistan which included a strong Buddhist element. I am sure you are familiar with those incredible Buddha monuments that were destroyed by the Taliban regime that were the legacy of that period. And Ibrahim Adham himself was a saint in the footsteps of the Buddha. If you study the Sufi tradition you will find the trace of Buddhism. The Sufis in their Persian poetry speak of the but , the idol, as a manifestation of the divine beloved. And this word but comes from Buddha.

Like Buddha, Ibrahim Adham was a great king living in opulence. Of course, each of us in this contemporary era live, by comparison to the people of former times, like kings. So in some sense, Ibrahim Adham was a person just like any one of us. But he was the king of the court of a mighty kingdom. And this king was visited by another strange mystic from the dessert. This was Khizr, the green man of the desert. He blew in, evaded the guards, and made his way into the inner court. Instead of bowing in obeisance as was the protocol, he impudently went up to the throne. The king was deeply offended and said, “What brings you to the court of the great king?”

And Khizr replied, “Oh, I’m just passing through this caravanserai,” which means motel. You can imagine how angry the king was to hear his palace called a motel.

He said, “How dare you say that!”

And Khizr said, “Well, who sat on that throne before you?”

The king answered, “My father.”

Khizr said, “And before him?”

“His father,” said the king.

“And before him?”

“His father.”

And Khizr replied, “And you mean to tell me that this isn’t a motel with people constantly coming and going all the time?”

Suddenly a revelation came to the king. He realized that all he had invested himself in, his persona of grandeur and wealth and power, was ephemeral; it was trifling in the grand scheme of things. He was just passing through a motel. The words of Khizr went straight into his heart, like a barb. He was compelled to leave his crown and his throne and live as a wandering dervish. For many years he wandered. One time, he came upon a dervish who was complaining about his poverty and the ex-king said, “You must have bought your poverty very cheaply.”

The dervish said, “Does one buy poverty?”

Ibrahim Adham said, “I paid all the wealth in the world and still I feel I got a very good deal.”

Then he became a disciple of Fuzail bin Ayaz who was a highway robber turned Sufi. There at the khanqua, he was made to renounce his false pride. His murshid, his teacher, was very strict with him, and he made him carry out the garbage; this, for a man who was pampered all his life. But Ibrahim Adham took it in stride and carried the garbage. The other students couldn’t bear to see that great noble being subjected to humiliation so they said, “Please, take it easy on him.”

The murshid said, “Well, alright, well have a test.”

He sent someone to knock over the garbage while Ibrahim Adham was carrying it. The former king looked at him very sternly and said, “When I was king, I would have never put up with that.”

This report went back to the murshid and he said, “He’s not ready yet.”

Some months later, they did it again. This time, Ibrahim Adham just looked at the one who knocked over the garbage. When he heard this report, the murshid said, “Hes still not ready.”

Then, finally, months later when they again knocked over the garbage, Ibrahim Adham didn’t even look to see who did it. He just picked up the garbage and continued with his chore. His murshid went and embraced him and gave him a very high initiation. He became successor in that order. In fact, that is the order that we are continuing in this line. So he followed in the footsteps of the Buddha who was also a great king who renounced his worldly position to discover an eternal reality.

Here is another definition of Sufism:

“The Sufi is the possessor of breaths.”

The previous definition said the Sufi does not possess anything. This is an exception to the rule. “The Sufi is the possessor of breaths.” “The one who breathes well” is another translation or “The one who is awake to the breath.” You know it is an idea in the East that each person is born on earth with a certain limited number of breaths. Some yogis try to extend their breath, slow down the breath, so they will live much longer. Well, the same principle applies here, but it is not extending the breath in time, but extending the breath beyond time, making each instant, in the awakened breath, eternal. It is through the breath that we attain presence and through the neglect of the breath that we are absent. Sin is the breath that escapes in forgetfulness and the virtue is the breath that is breathed in awareness of the unity of being. It is as simple as that. Just one lesson in Sufism: each breath to be breathed in remembrance of the One Being. It is something very simple, but it is a lifetime study.

Here is another definition -- a very wonderful and provocative saying:

“He is a Sufi whose religion is God.”

Not Hinduism, Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, any other ism. The religion itself is just God. God is the religion. A religion is an accommodation in which one can more and more orient to the divine presence as it transpires in the horizon and in oneself. The attainment of a state of mystical realization is one in which one’s religious obligation is directed to that reality. So one follows a religion whose forms are every form. Every revealed tradition is an element of this universal religion which is the divine religion that encompasses all of the human traditions that are reflecting its one light.

This is the universality of Sufism and the universality of every mystical tradition in its essence. A reality, not a ritual, not a form. The essence is always the reality behind the form. It is always illuminating to recall the words of Shaykh al-Akbar Ibn al-‘Arabi who says,

“Beware confining yourself to a particular conception and denying all else, for much good would elude you. Indeed the knowledge of reality would elude you. Be in yourself a substance for all forms, for God is too vast and tremendous to be restricted to one form of belief rather than another.”

That is a direct quote from Shaykh al-Akbar Ibn al-‘Arabi from his Fusus al-Hikam and one that speaks in a very relevant and timely way in our time when humanity is struggling to find a common spiritual language that transcends the boundaries of difference. Not merely a globalized market but a globalized spirit.

Here is another definition. Al-Shibli was a great mad friend of al-Hallaj. When al-Hallaj was sentenced to death and people were throwing stones at him, al-Shibli threw a rose. He used to frequent the asylums of his day. People weren’t sure if he was totally mad or totally sane. He said:

“A Sufi does not see in the two worlds, in this world and the hereafter, anything with God except God. Nothing in addition to God.”

In every situation, in every place, at every time, in every relationship, the Sufi keeps coming back to the One and sees the innumerable masks as veils on the face of a single infinite personality, divine being. Not for a single moment does the Sufi imagine that anything could be additional, recognizing immediately, intuitively, that everything is essentially singular in its essence. The Sufi recognizes that this whole manifestation is one phantasmagoria that is the refraction and reflection of a single Light.

A Sufi teacher was once speaking in this way in a group like this. Afterward he was walking home and someone from the audience followed behind and took a stick and whacked him on the back. He looked back. That person who had whacked him said, “Gotcha! You said its all one but when I beat you, you turned to see who it was. The Sheikh just smiled, “Yes. I knew it was all God. I just wanted to see what kind of an ignoramus God would choose to fulfill this act.” It does take the edge off one’s reactions when one knows that God is behind it all. You cannot really hold anything against anyone personally after a certain point.

And now finally, these words of Sheikh Abu Yazid Bistami:

“The Sufis are like infants in the bosom of God.”

To be a Sufi is to be in that state of reliance, assurance, loving resonance, non-individuated consciousness, feeling oneself enclosed in a loving embrace that is eternal and infinite and irrevocable, knowing the essence of reality to be not ambivalent but in truth essentially compassionate, accepting, forgiving, nurturing. Infinite mercy. Eternal compassion. These are no longer theories or wishful thinking but one’s essential experience, incontrovertibly true because one resides in the embrace of the Divine Love.

May God Bless each any everyone of us.

some food for thought

Intellectual nourishment

The important thing is not to think much,
but to love much;
and so, do that which best stirs you to love.

Saint Teresa of Avila

If you are seeking closeness to the Beloved,
love everyone.
whether in their presence or absence,
see only their good.
if you want to be as clear and refreshing as
the breath of the morning breeze,
like the sun have nothing but warmth and light
for everyone.

Shaikh Abu-Said Abil-Khair

All those who are unhappy in the world
are so as a result of
their desire for their own happiness.
All those who are happy in the world
are so as a result of
their desire for the happiness of others.

Shantideva

O, friend! Nobody veils you, but yourself.
In your path there is no thorn or weed, but yourself.
You asked: shall I reach the beloved or not?
Between you and the beloved there is nobody, but yourself.

Awhadoddin Kermani

You do not have to struggle to reach God,
but you do have to struggle to tear away
the self-created veil that hides him from you.

Paramahansa Yogananda

Before you ask God for what you want,
first thank god for what
you have.

Talmud, B'rachot 30b

How long will you keep pounding on an open door
begging for someone to open it?

Rabi'a al-'Adawiyya

I do not desire suffering;
yet fool I am,
I desire the cause of suffering!

Shantideva

Wisdom tells me I am nothing.
Love tells me I am everything.
Between the two my life flows.

Nisargadatta Maharaj

In the morning, the one who does not understand will
consider what he will do,
while the one who understands will
consider what the one will do with him.

Ibn 'ata 'illah

Until you become an unbeliever in your own self,
you cannot become a believer in god.

Shaikh Abu-Said Abil-Khair

Student:
Sir, if one gave up the I, nothing whatsoever would remain.

Ramakrishna:
I am not asking you to give up all of the I. you should give up only the "unripe I." the "unripe I" makes one feel: "I am the doer. these are my wife and children. I am a teacher."

Renounce this "unripe I" and keep the "ripe I" which will make you feel that you are god's servant, his devotee, and that god is the doer and you are his instrument.

Sri Ramakrishna

Worn-out garments are shed by the body,
worn-out bodies are shed by the dweller within the body,
new bodies are donned by the dweller, like garments.

Not wounded by weapons, not burned by fire,
not dried by the wind, not wetted by water,
such is the one.

Not dried, not wetted, not burned, not wounded,
innermost essence, everywhere, always,
being of beings, changeless, eternal, for ever and ever.

Bhagavad-Gita 2:22

Where are you hurrying to?
you will see
the same moon tonight
wherever you go!

Izumi Shikibu

There is no difference in the destination,
the only difference is in the journey.

Inayat Khan

All the violence, fear and suffering
that exists in this world
comes from grasping at "self".
What use is this great monster to you?
if you do not let go of the "self",
there will never be an end to your suffering.

Shantideva

In the pursuit of learning,
every day something is acquired.
in the pursuit of Tao,
every day something is dropped.

Lao Tzu

Correct behavior
means that you are
occupied with commendable activity.

Ibn 'Ata'

There is only one virtue
and only one sin
for a soul on the path:
virtue when he is conscious of God
and sin when he is not.

Abu Hashim Madani

I see now
that all creatures
have perfect enlightenment
- but they do not know it.

Buddha

satyameva jayate
truth alone is victorious

Mundaka Upanishad 3.1.6

Bandeya Ho

India, my country, and neighbour Pakistan, have been at war for decades. I do not want to discuss politics and warfare right now.I reserve that discussion for another day.I leave you with a lovely song. A Sufi song by Baba Bulleh Shah. Bulleh Shah is believed to have been born in 1680, in the small village of Uch, Bhawalpur,India now in Pakistan. Sufism originated in what is modern day Pakistan.It is a beautiful song, called Bandeya ho (addressing a man or mankind), rendered beautifully by Khawar Jawad and Faiza Mujahid telling the tale of Bullay Shah and his guru Inayat Shah, who was of a caste deemed lower by those of Bullay Shah’s community.



The lyrics and translation from Saraiki to English, thanks to the many websites which have appeared since the song appeared in the Pakistani movie, Khuda Kay Liye:

Bullay Noun Samjhawan Ayaan
Bhenaan Tay Bherjaayaan (Bullay’s sisters and sisters-in-law came to advise him)
Man Lay Bullaya Sada Kaina
Chad Day Pala Araiyaan (“Listen to us and stop associating with that man of the Araain community”)
Aal Nabi Ulad Nabi Noun
Tu Kyoun Leeka Layaan (“Why do you insult our tribe the descendants of the Prophet Mohammed”)
Jera Saanoun Syed Saday
Dozakh Milay Sazaiyaan (Bullay replies: Those that call me a Syed (the tribe of the descendants of the Prophet) will be punished in Hell) (Indicating that he’d rather denounce his tribe than denounce the peer, his guru)

Bandeya ho, Bandeya

Araain Saain Sabi Thaain (People of Araain and Saain clans are everywhere)
Rab Deeyaan Bay Perwaayaan (God doesn’t care (about placing them together in this world))
Soniya Paray Hatayaan tay
Khoojiyaan Nay Gal Layaan (Those that are beautiful (in heart and soul) do not find such differences (in castes), only ugly people do)

Jay Tu Looray Baagh Baharaan
Chakar Ho Ja Araiyaan (If you desire paradise in the afterlife, become a servant of the Araiyan) (Indicating ‘serve the poor and downtrodden, if you seek heaven’)
Bullay Shah De Zaat Ke Puchni
Shakar Ho ya Razayaan (Ask not what caste Bullay Shah comes from)

Bandeya ho, Bandeya

Intellectual nourishment?

So this is it

So this is my new blog.It already has 2 views which is me.I dont think there are going to be too many views because im not going to advertise much.Lets see.
Here is to my first post