it is sometimes enlightening to see the continuum of pain and joy. once a yoga practitioner, is adept with the asanas, the pain of the stretch is experienced as joy to her. the pain of the blood rushing in, and being breathless, but still being able to maintain the slow and deep rhythm of breath is extremely difficult. but appears joyous; but ofcourse painful. after completing that long marathon, the piercing pain of the accumulated lactic acid and muscles own means of doing anaerobic respiration is painful, but is joyous. the joy is more intrinsic rather than anything else. it is about being connected to that deep seated nerve say on the left of the shin bone, deep inside the muscles lining it. or for that matter, being able to feel one’s heart touching one’s inner viscera of the chest. that soft pain, makes us aware of our brethren i side us, standing firm to protect and strengthen us, so that we can pass on that gratitude to others in the world and beyond with our service, exploration, experimentation and toil.
the most pleasurable act for human – the act of sex, itself is an extremely painful and arduous regime. the continuum of pain and joy is so vivid and intricate in this situation! the lovers experiencing orgasm is in a rollercoaster of a mind shattering pain, and an enlivening and expanding joy. one loses the sense of that little ego caged in bone and flesh, and expands out to an incomprehensible, ever expansive, limitless openness, where there is no form, there is no name. only what remains is just that dance, that motion, that symphony, the music of the moans..
same is the case with a student of a complex domain of study. it is arduously and humiliatingly painful to go through those initial days struggling with the fundamentals of that domain. but then, if the student perseveres, and goes through the initial corny pain, the continuity of joy and pain slowly emerges soon, one she starts applying the first principles and graduates into higher order thinking, and creating inferences and solving ever more complex problems. i. this entire journey as was with sex, she just rides the wave effortlessly, and jumps from one crescendo to the other.
interesting is the absence of the boundaries between paina dm joy. and ever more interesting is the discovery that none of these appears in their pure unadulterated form. wherever they exist, they exist as a continuum of one into the other, like a water into sandalwood powder, or honey in curd, or water in milk. one strengthens and completes the other.
practicing yoga has been like a way of life for me. the day without yoga appears little incomplete. it feels like something essential was missed. something like one is deprived of that glimpse of the beauty of one’s beloved’s silky smooth calling in the early morning. like that bounce of lightness of heart, its movement from one to the other level was missed out. a day without yoga is like a day depriving a constellation of beings of their justified fundamental right to soak into the mushiness of love of each other with whom they are profoundly in love.
who are these beings? what is this love? what is that justified fundamental right? what it means to soak into the mushiness of that love?
yoga flows in following four stages. They are – 1. the first stage getting one’s movements right. 2. the second stage is getting one’s breath aligned to those right movements. 3. the third is about aligning one’s drishti (sight) with the movements. 4. the fourth stage is about allowing the breath and drishti to be the leader, and movements just follow them!
That is the journey of yoga. it is a journey of movement from gross to subtle. it is about disciplining and aligning one’s body with the soul, and then letting the soul take control. The important fundamental 1st principle on which this entire flow of yoga is based on is two folds – love and movement. it is all about movement. from one position to the other – spatial or mental. from gross to subtle. And also the entire movement is about allowing a constellation of beings to make love with each other. and it is about letting the soul being in observance (sakshi) of that play of love.
now, what are those beings? one way to observe that dance of love is to practice yoga, slowly, aligned with the breath, timing, and the required delays between each breath and movements, to build up that symphony; that music, that rhythm, that dance. And if this dance is done naked, alone, in a silent warm private place, it helps. being naked, one is able to use one’s body as a medium to align the drishti, and skin as a means to observe that exact points of contacts between the mother earth (yoga mat), and contacts between the outer parts of the body, and also the inner organs of the body. body becomes a medium to let one’s psychic energy seep into in meditation, and groove into what it feels, how it looks. Slowly the consciousness slips away from one’s ego to myriads of beings and myriads of those highly charged contact points, leading to orgasm, if done well. like while doing suryanamaskara, following points of contacts are prime to groove into –
pada hasta asana – kissing one’s sheen. letting one’s nipples touch the knees.letting one’s forehead do a pranaam to the sheen. the entire process is very respectful, like a worship, deeply soaked in carnal love, bonding and belonging. also it is about the sight of seeing the world upside down between one’s limbs, being embraced in love in protection by them. its like a little infant glimpsing the world of motion from the lap of her mother.
ashwa sanchalana asana – feeling that stretch in one’s groins, thyroid, and shoulders. letting the eyeballs touch the brows! it is also about seeing the ceiling, the sky, the stars, the sun, the moon, and establishing one connect with the universe above us.
adho mukha swan asana -feeling the hand muscles stretch, the expanse of the fingers being supported by the mother earth’s bosom. feeling that stretch in the leg muscles with the heels touching the mother earth.
the entire movement of the flow from bhujanga asana, to ashtanga namaskar, to chatur dandasana, to chatur dandasana namaskar, till back to again on ashwa sanchalana asana – is a deep love making with one’s groins, phallus, or clitoris, breasts, stomach, neck. the entire body experiences that deep intimate connection with mother earth, and then with sky to follow. The the love making continues.
This entire act of love, deeply grooved into the dance of the breath, drishti, movement teaches one lots and lots of things, and every day, every new stage, every new progression in this upward spiral teaches the abhyasi (practitioner) something new, something subtle, something much more beyond one’s ego, to those numerous constellations of beings, and being a sakshi of their love making.
Truly the act of yoga is not about completing some numbers of exercise turns, and fulfilling one’s ego that i have done those number of turns. but it is about a pure indulgence of seeping into the world of love. just love. And also it is about movement. it is about that continuous change, that continuous swing, that continuous progression from one point to other, that is more difficult, more demanding, where the soul, the body, the skin, the muscles, the bones, the mind, the breath, has to learn to do something more difficult, something beyond their current capacity. That upward movement, determines being alive! And this movement through love, starts with touch, touching one’s own body, touching mother earth, feeling that deeply, seeing one’s own body, seeing the universe around from different asanas, appreciating the texture, the warmth, that acceptance of the body through that tactile touch, and also appreciating the perfect symmetry, the hidden asymmetries in the body, and geometric miracle of what the body is, the world is! certainly taking bath before yoga, shaving one’s whole body if it is hairy, doing the yoga completely naked or with least clothes on, using a yoga mat that is very thin and allows one to feel mother earth more fully, using natural materials for the yoga mat, doing the yoga alone, etc helps and are essential hygiene factors, doing it as close to nature as possible, etc.
as always, love is whole and complete in the action of loving. it is the verb end to end that fulfills itself. there is no other hidden agenda to have anything or anybody outside that sanctuary of being engaged in love, and cherishing it’s grace every moment playing it. so is yoga! there is nothing to have or accomplish outside the mere act, and engaging with the act. yoga is whole and complete by itself. it’s like making love with one’s beloved is whole and complete in itself. or the act of worship is whole and complete in itself. there is no hidden agenda to accomplish, or a destination to achieve and rest. it’s a constant toil moving the upward spiral.
the festivity of togetherness, once it tightens
the entropy of dissipation kicks in,
leaving the soul apparently abandoned.
in one level, the soul cries out tirelessly,
for yet another chance, for yet another past.
runs it from pillar to post in that vehement need,
need to love and be loved.
in the backdrop of never ending
cacophony of the continuous humdrum
of the abundance of her hatred, and angst.
of her disgust, judgments, and righteousness,
curling into the melancholy of his abandonment.
on another level, a journey of abandonment, he embarked,
from the tears, pains, and tribulations,
to a cleansed and purified was his innermost core.
through a metamorphosis painful and inevitable.
it was cleansing of all cacophony,
like being ushered into silence,
into that sanctuary of restful breath,
where there was nothing,
but just the breath in and out,
in the silent space of just love.
in that meditative silence,
purified and cleansed
from the distractions of the apparent abandonment,
the soul could hear a distance music.
whispering gently to the soul -
love is an unwavering task of toil.
not an indulgence of a fleeting feeling.
it is a daily routine of stubbornness and resolve.
steeped in respect, freedom, faith and care.
it's a daily ritual of worship,
no matter what. no matter when.
love is an effort to discover
the eternal connection,
defying the distractions
of all the lies that is apparently visible,
bold, loud and violent.
perceiving the lingering realization,
the realization of an eternal connect.
the connect of the earth binding
in that vast and undeniable expanse.
although far away across the oceans,
or just next door, but pushed farther than the farthest.
the ocean bed, or the valleys or mountains,
Mother earth standing by him, held her to him,
with that steadfast yoke of motherly embrace,
bosom to bosom, flesh to flesh, soul to soul.
the connect of that churn in the belly,
of that goose bump in being,
of that skipped beat of the heart,
discovering the hidden laws of physics,
solving that difficult equation of aircraft performance,
realizing that esoteric truth of love, God, and people,
worshipful presence of that
silent, deep and still meditation.
the connect of that inherent sameness,
of wakefulness, and sleep
of same human follies and sublimations,
of that capacity to love, to unite, to be one
in that nurturing embrace,
in body, mind and soul.
the connect of that vast inclusiveness,
of the diverse beauty of being human,
the art and the innate capacity to belong,
that feeling of surrender, and restfulness,
in the ease and naturalness of being naked,
all exposed, all opened up,
nothing to hide, nothing to hold.
in daily prayers of wishes of wellbeing,
in those showers of blessings,
strewn like ageless, every youthful petals fresh,
on her presence, in her own world, with her own people.
how does that matter,
where the Niagara falls,
or the Taj Mahal stands,
when the bard sang,
or the Rome built.
For her beauty was ageless, timeless, infinite.
it was beyond a human grasp,
much beyond any tactile imprisonment.
in that realm of inexpressible, and in-comprehendible,
a realm whose glimpse cannot even be captured,
in the deepest silence of meditation,
whose music is quieter than the most profound quietude.
a beauty that makes all that is created pale,
a yearning that is humanely impossible to quench.
how can that limitless, eternal and magnanimous glare,
be even be intuited by limited human heart!
only one thing can he do,
is to attend to the task -
The task of love,
tilling, nurturing, trimming and beautifying,
with his daily worship, one word at a time.
tirelessly echoing the eternal song of love
till that last breath of life...
she knew very well, with the power, precision, sharpness and clarity! of that of the ethereal thundering bolt! she knew what was right, she knew which rule needed to be broken. she knew what was true. and what was false!
love, devotion, kindness, respect, beauty, joy, gratitude, worship - are they just not all the same? only are different just the outer surface. diversely sparkling with the different beams, gleaming from the same jewel underneath?
when she entered, she cleaned, she arranged, she freshened, she spruced! however, she didn't touch anything else, that carelessly spread on the table, and sofa the clothes books, and pens. except One!
that was the most touching gesture! she didn't touch any of my belongings. that was lying as is in the sofa all untouched and kept as open and in shambles Exactly as was left... keeping them totally untouched. except One!
she had meticulously spruced up, arranged, cleaned, and arranged all other hotel stuff, from the bed linen, to towels, to pillows, cleaning the bathroom and the rooms totally spic and span.
but she didn't touch, any of the belongings, even when they were just carelessly scattered on the sofa and table. Except One!
doing her chores, she saw the Beloved, Kali, there, unattended without any flower, without any asana!
she could not stop herself! her sense of discernment was razor sharp. she knew to cut through the falseness of what appears on the surface, in name and form, in non essential details, the hindrances of rules, of orders and dictates. directly pointing out the essential, with the focussed gaze of the eagle, The essential focal point, often deeply hidden, in some corner unattended.
like that pure love, that pure belonging, that pure connectedness, that pure friendship, that pure desire to be one in the most forceful embrace of love.
she knew the most favorite flower of Kali was Hibiscus, And she knew red and yellow are the two favorite colors of Kali. She immediately rushed out. in search of blood red Hibiscus and golden yellow bougenvillas she ran,
down the road lined up with the vast expanse of coffee plantation spread over 100 acres. interspersed with huge silver Oak, Peepal, Banyan and thousands of giant evergreen trees, the ground, still glistening bright with drizzles cleansing the bright green grass, bamboo shoots and birds of Paradise.
Hibiscus was not to be found anywhere around. for special blessings are often the most rare. she went deep into the forest, From that hidden plant in the dark, adorned with four fully bloomed hibiscus,
in the backdrop of a bountyful, beaming expanse of yellow bougenvillas, she in her little palms, gathered the earnest and fully blossomed flowers, eagerly waiting to be offered, throbbing with that deep earning of union, to just be one of the beautiful, soft and fragrant Lotus feet of Thine - source of all life and beyond!
drenched wet in love, and expanding in joy, ecstatic in the orgasm of devotion and longing, both the flowers and she! ran back into the room. patiently she cleaned the table, with a smile in face, and mercy in hand, made she the asana of pure white sheets. like the purity of her love and her soul, she placed the rosary, the flowers! she knelt, she prayed, she thanked. And she left. as quietly as she had come.
she respected me for giving space to my careless, shambles strewn articles, not even touching them and overriding them with the perfectness of her paint, paint of the sense of cleanliness and orderliness . she didn't even move them one inch to make them a little cleaner or ordered.
but then, she immediately and spontaneously within a blink of an eye, with audacity and thoughtfulness, her devotion, and care, she broke the status quo of unattention and emptiness, and beautified the altar with her love, her respect.
it was like she knew very well, with the power, precision, sharpness and clarity of the thundering bolt! she knew what was right, she knew which rule needs to be broken. she knew what was true. and what was false.
On that face of fleeting material world, gleaming with the riot of the cacophony of hatred, abandonment, anger, indifference, there always lies that quiet, still, never changing, substratum of the only truth, the one and only one truth, the truth of Love, the truth of embrace, the truth of connectedness. far far beyond anything that ever can be seen, or heard, or articulated.
that never was born, will never perish. that will always stay, Primordial and Eternal! the bolt hidden in the bubble.
love is a personal affair. a meditative affair. with the self.
love is that brilliant bambino, ever youthful and ever pure, nurturing on trust and worship. on respect and devotion. on loyalty and meditation. on space and freedom. on guileless friendship, on benevolent blessings. on stubbornness to belong, on the resolve to be one in spirit, to be one in soul.
the timeless brilliant bambino, unchanging and eternal, with that sage like stillness, chuckles with her drooling lips, on the shallow impermanence of the effervescence of the fizzes, of likes and dislikes, of attraction and disgust, of acceptance and rejection, of connection and abandonment, of honor and damnation, of life and death.
like the beautiful moving shades of vermillion, crimson, pink and red, paints these nectar of life, on the eternal, unchanging, spotless canvas. the canvas of the eternal and immortal reason. the one and only reason of life and creation, the reason of love, the reason of freedom.
the throbbing hearts, beating in that love, die. beaten up by the vagaries of the ever changing seasons. some die of forgetfulness, some die by bleeding into hatred, some injured by indifference, in those dark lonely alleys abandonment.
but that music in his heart, remains ever new, echoing and reverberating the universe and beyond, music of that lightness of his soul, music of that belongingness towards the other. relaxed respite of that unbroken trust, eternal and immortal.
the throbbing hearts die, but the music remains. for it inspires another soul to be born, another heart to beat in a new life to be formed, again to be offered on the altar of worship of love. only love.
wash my soul, O my Lord, with that shower of the light of the music, the light of love, washing away my tiredness, my weaknesses, my death.
it was the wedding of my dearest nephew. he is pretty accomplished, and more so, is among those few people i know in my life who has a heart of gold. not only it is a pleasure to know him, but also it has been a life time opportunity, being part of the family, to be able to connect so many beautiful people in one event.
the wedding was at the heritage site of the Taj group of hotels at Swabhumi at kolkata. it is a beautiful and inspiring heritage property of Bengal Renaissance that is now converted by the Taj group into a heritage hotel and group of convention centers. we danced, sang, talked, played, and connected with friends and family. and of course the sumptuous and delectable dishes spread at the buffet dinner was out of the world.
with all the merriment, i want to recollect the most heart touching experience i had in this entire wedding ceremony. it was on 14th may sunday night. it was mother’s day. the occasion was sangeet. i was doing the comparing, and all of them danced. several relatives and kids did dance. we had a dj hired. it was quite a good event, where we did rehearsals, planning, correct music selection, choreographing the dance and the final performance on stage. kids, cousins, relatives, brothers, sisters, all danced on a dance mix. it was great.
the culminating experience was the last event. it was mother’s day night. we got cakes and invited my mother and bride’s grandmother to cut the cake. the dj played a beautiful song on mother from tare zameen par – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOK08cRwE6c
my mom was overwhelmed with the respect that the entire crowd was giving. all cheered her. i was with the microphone and was cheering happy mothers day and the excellent song on mother was being played in the background..i could see tears in all of the eyes in the audience!! people had tears of joy and gratitude for their moms, and they came on the stage and touched the feet of my mom and took her blessings. she was in tears as well. she kept blessing all, and fed them with the cake. even the camera man, left the camera and came to eat the cake from my mom as blessing, and he also touched her feet. i was in tears too. all were smiling, and had wet eyes, and cheeks. wow what a moment it was! there were about 100 odd people in the hall, and all were clapping, cheering, and praying for mothers with folded hands. they were all tapping their feet on this wonderful song. and swaying with love, bonding and belonging. my god! it was divine experience!!
that human connection, that feeling of being part of a family, that delicate but robust bond of belonging, and above all that gratitude, love and feeling of being at ease within a sanctuary of togetherness and bond was mind blowing!!
feels overwhelmingly grateful..thank you Rom, thank you Didibhai, thank you Gudiya, thank you Milanda..Love you..
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