The absent colours of Advaita

How hard can you be hit by Love?

Sometimes I forget the name of the beloved. Sometimes I forget that white has all colors in it. Sometimes I confuse white with black. Yesterday I forgot that my Guru has a teaching.

Everyone, including a pup, has a mind. Ok, some people may have a worn-torn bundle of thoughts which they drag along, but hardly ever is it empty.

We were sitting on the lawn of her home, seeking answers from each others bundles. We were trying to understand 'the individual's responsibility' in a world where God does everything.

'So Ramesh does not ask you to be mindful, to be aware?', she asked. (Read Ramesh Balsekar, advaita teacher in Mumbai.)

'Nope.' I replied.

'Then he must be a jerk.' she said.

'Well. You could call him that.' I said, half conscious.

'Then even you are a jerk.'

'I maybe.'

On my way home, the tube light lit. Ramesh does have a teaching. A method to understand the teaching. A spiritual practice. Just because I never questioned his basic, Fatoti theory, (short for Functioning of Totality), I never bothered to go through the doership inquiry method he prescribes. I always thought, Oh, thats for the intellectuals. I can chuck this class. I can happily go on with my life.

Being happy can lead you to being called a jerk. Which I don't mind, least of all from a friend. But my Guru, he ain't no jerk. He can talk the most head heavy seeker into silence. In hindi, bolti band karaa dena.

And the spiritual practice that he preaches, is not even compulsory. If you are used to a spiritual practice, and you want to know, 'Yes, Ramesh, I agree with you that there is no individual doer, but, till the time that this understanding reaches my gut, is there anything I can do, to ... pass the time?' (This is the politically correct approach. If you ask, can I do anything to speed up to the big E, he will say Nope. Can a particle of dust speed up to get out of the dust storm?)

Here is the doership inquiry : Take twenty minutes off, in the evening, or whenever you have the time during the day, sit in a comfortable position (not with a straight back, this is not a discipline). If you need a cup of tea, coffee to be comfortable, have it, if you like beer, you can have that too. Switch off your mobile, ensure that you are not disturbed, and go through the events, the deeds of the day. Single out a few actions that you feel proud / guilty of, that you are convinced that you have done, and find out if it was you who did them.

Well, I don't need twenty minutes. I get Fatoti out of my bundle in a second. Yes, it gets tossed and lost in the storm, but occasionally, we collide.

This is a Ramesh take on Ramana Maharishi's self-inquiry, 'Who am I ?' I am so and so because I do such and such. I am, because I do. So question what I do, and bit by bit, if you are lucky, if it is part of the Fatoti, the doer fades out and only 'I' remains.

The girl wiith black hair

This painting reminds me of a sketch I studied during the FTII days. It was a sketch of an old woman and young woman in one. A change in perspective, and the image transforms. I remember what the young woman looked like, also the older woman, but I cannot visualize them together.

This black hair girl is all cinema. Scroll down slowly and see how your perspective tracks back.

The aunties with a scooter-paster.

'Ai, can I have the scooter-paster?' asks my seven year old.

'The what?'

'The scooter - paster.' he repeats, rubbing his hands, smudged black.

'Oh, your cycle chain has come off again, right?'

'Yes.'

'So you need the screw driver, honey, not scooter -paster.'

'Yes. Same thing. Give me fast, no. All my friends are upon my cycle. They will break the chain.'

So we go out, armed with the scooter- paster, no screw driver.

Its not the boys, but three aunties that are upon his upturned bi-cycle, pulling and pushing the chain, getting their manicured hands dirty.

Its an eerie sight, but I can stand it. These aunties look after my kid in the evenings when he cycles around the block, so I cant mess with them.

The boys, however, are distraught.

'Mummy, please. You will break the chain.'

'Auntie please. We will go to the cycle repair shop.'

'Don't pull so hard, auntie. You will break the chain.'

The mostly dormant feminist in me suddenly awakens.

'Don't worry boys. Let them do the job. Cycle chains don't break so easily. Move away.' I say.

Within two minutes the chain is back in its place. And boy, are we aunties proud of ourselves.

I invite the aunties home to wash their hands, but they decline. I suspect they want to show off the mehendi to their husbands.

An intimate adventure

How would I feel, if I suddenly find myself all alone, deserted, and not know my way home?

Those carefree days, when I was hippying around near Dharamshala, in Himachal Pradesh. The rainbow camp, where we cooked our own food and slept in tents. I forget the name of the hot springs, but I remember the light colors of stones in the clear waters. The river flowing down from the not so distant Himalayas, the smell of fresh wild flowers. The chanting of the gayatri mantra with fellow devotees, while we were clearing up the mess, burning the waste.

'Om Bhu Bhuvaswaha. Tat savitur Varenyam. Bhargodevasya dhimahi. Diyo yonah Prachodayat.'

Somehow, the crowd dispersed, somehow I landed on a footpath in the late afternoon, my shoes wet from the river, the backpack heavy with the woolens. How could they go off without me? There were more than three groups, and each must have thought I am with the other.

I was all alone in the middle of God knows where, there was not a soul in sight, not even a stray dog. It was around four, which gave me a couple of hours to find civilization. I had two choices. To walk up the road or down. Down was the camp we had just vacated, up I could see the glorious Himalayan peaks.

It was scary, to be lost in such a vast space. But I was also thrilled, this was a first in life moment. This is something every person must experience at least once in her life. To be lost in nature.

I started walking up. No sound, other than the breaking twigs under my feet. A silence throbbing with itself. A silence lovelier than music. The entire universe was so silent, so aware, so enlightened.

After a few minutes, the fear left as the awareness enveloped me. All the trees, the sunlight, the valley below, the mountains above, the very air, were showering on me something that felt very protective. I realized that I had never felt so free and so safe in my entire life.

After a couple of hours the landscape opened up, the road widened, the trees receded and as the sun turned crimson, the fear came back. Alone and lonely interchanged, as the angels went off duty, for a tea break.

Angels have a bird eye view, and must have seen the approaching Bus from the other side of the mountain. Can any other sound be as heartening to a woman lost on an unlit highway? And how beautiful to hear it's low grr at first, and slowly the volume goes up and two stars appear in the distance and become bigger like moons and then blazing suns.

The Bus stopped and I hopped on. A combination of emotions flooded me. One was relief, thank God, and a vague sense of regret for end of the intimate adventure with silence.

A dream flying away...

Was it not King Janaka who went nuts trying to answer this question : Am I the butterfly who is dreaming that I am a King?

In my dream last night I told myself that I must blog this. That this is as true as it gets.

I was flying, well, not exactly. There was a rope attached to the top of the building, and I was swinging, like spider man, all over the place, with grace, confidence, and, utter joy.

Then, within the dream, arose a memory, in the shape of another dream, of a past where I have flown over clouds, sans rope. All it took was intent, and up....I bounce, tree-tops tilting down.

Flying dreams are gifts, hugs from the dream angel. I wonder if I will ever meet him to say thank you.

I did meet his sister yesterday, when I was watering plants on a large plot of land in the university campus. Maybe he was also around, and heard my singing...

Gandhiji comes to the mountain

I dug out my copy of 'Living by the words of Bhagwan', by David Godman, a book where years ago I read about Gandhiji's visit to my favorite place, Tiruvannamalai.

Either it was some other book, or I missed looking at the very page that Gandhiji came to the mountain. The good part of any research activity, and that includes looking for your keys, is that you find many things you did not expect. And sometimes they are so interesting, so beautiful, so soothing, you forget what you were looking for.

'The Guru's grace,' says Ramana Maharashi, the sage of Tiruvannamali, 'befalls on him who, in his previous births, has gone to many holy places for long periods of time. By this virtue alone he develops faith in the Guru.'

Faith in the Guru happens when there is faith in the teaching. A teaching so simple, so straight, so quickly rejected by the intelligent, so quickly accepted by the devotees, so easily forgotten by the do-gooders, and so sadly misinterpreted by the fundamentalists.

Was it class three or four, that I had a subject called community living at school. In the book, there was one sentence that writ itself on my heart.

God is everywhere!

And so there was no arguing with Ramesh when he said,

All there is, is Consciousness

in other words,

Everything happens by the will of God.

Back to the book. An old man, about to die, scared to die, comes to Ramana .

Old man: I am a sinner! I am going to go to hell! Bhagwan, do something! I don't want to go to hell.

Ramana: I am there too.

Thus the leela goes on. God is everywhere but he (and she), seeks himself, over and over again, through the seekers.

Annamalai swami, on whom the book, 'Living by the words of Bhagwaan', is written, is a life long disciple of Ramana. Without any formal training in building, Annamalai built the Ramana ashram. Ramana designed the space, Annamalai swami gave shape to his dreams. His excuse to live in the proximity of his master, manifested itself in the making of a temple.

He remembers ( I remember), when Gandhiji visited Tiru. Ramanashram is situated on the outskirts of the town. So if there was any happening event in town, news would trickle to the ashram. Gandhiji is in town! He will be passing by the gate of the ashram in his jeep!

All the ashramites, accept Bhagawan, flock to the gate. Annnamalai swami crosses the road, to
get some breathing space, I guess. He sees Gandhiji sitting by the driver in the open jeep (probably doing his Pradakshina on four wheels).

Annamalai swami joins his hands in greeting. Gandhiji returns the gesture, his face breaking into that heart-winning smile of his. The jeep passes by. Annamalai feels an anticlimax.

'Why didn't Bapu come and meet you?' he later asks Ramana.

'Probably because God has other plans for him,' answers the wise one.

An Afghan student is about to be killed

A young Afghan student, about 21 years of age has been sentenced to death for circulating an article that criticized fundamentalist's misrepresentation of Islam to justify women oppression.

The Afghan Senate has already declared a motion to confirm the death sentence and clerics are demanding his execution to be held as soon as possible. Please, there still is a possibility of overturning this sentence if the international community puts pressure on the Afghan government. If we collect enough signatures, we can compel the UK Foreign Office to intervene before it is too late.

It only takes a second. To sign the petition, CLICK HERE

You can read the story in the Independent: CLICK HERE

---

This was the forward that I forwarded to all my contacts. Since I have a secret blogging address (which I used when I used to blog from my work pace ), the mail got posted in my blog too.

What I would really like to know is that, do these forwards really work?

I mean, will this Afgan live?

And, how will I ever know of it?

30th January

'Hi, it is Jan 3oth. So like every year, taking this day to be silent and to meditate. Much love. Much metta. Nirali'
Said the sms, in response to a meeting planned for today.
Thank you, Nirali, for more than meeting me today.
I had completely forgotten.
Thank you for reminding me of Bapu.

coming next : Gandhiji in Tiruvnnamalai!

Working women, feed yourselves

Here is a list of what a well fed, nutrition conscious woman should stuff herself with. Those of you who are figure conscious and dieting, well, look elsewhere. The word, diet, by the way, is an Italian derivation that means nutritional, in other words, that which the body needs to function like a well oiled machine.

Upon waking,

• 3, 4 glasses of warm water with lemon, honey and salt. Guaranteed to produce the required result.

Then,

• 1 Cup tea without sugar, with jaggery. Organic jaggery in tea is yummy, once you get used to the difference.

Break fast,

• one helping of Dalia upma with a lot of vegetables and a little mung dal / 2,3 idlis with sambar and chutney / 2 rotis made with methi, atta and besan / Sprouted mung dal upma with a roti / 1 egg omlet with a roti / dhokla made with rice and dal flour / flattened rice (poha) with groundnuts and vegetables/ oatmeal with milk and honey,
• a glass of buttermilk / a glass of ragi with milk/ a glass of nachni with milk / a glass of plain milk ( If sweetening required, use only jaggery, or honey, not sugar), * Please note, the / means 'or', not 'and'. I mention this because someone commented that the breakfast was much bigger than the lunch *
  
• 3, 4 black raisins ( munakka) and
  
• 1 fruit.

Lunch,

• 2, 3 rotis (of atta mixed with milk, not water, nor oil, and certainly no salt)
• leafy vegetable with potatoes / paneer,
• dal
• lemon
  
• salad
• a glass of buttermilk
• a fruit

Evening Snack,

• Groundnuts / dry fruits (soaked overnight in water) / popcorn /puffed rice
• Lemon water / buttermilk / tea / vegetable soup / coconut water

Dinner,

• Khichdi made with unpolished rice + dal + vegetables (add a pinch of lime for calcium)
• Kadhi / milk with turmeric and ghee
• 1 date and 1 fig, soaked in water.

-----------Sounds good?--------

Some more tips :

• In 7 kgs of atta, mix 1 kg of Ragi + 1/4 kg of Rajgira.
  
• Always soak dry fruits. Dry fruits, even dates, should never be eaten dry.
• Don't use refined oil. Cold pressed oil is better.
• Use hing in baghar. Lime can be obtained from panwallas.
  
• Say no to bread, biscuits, sugar, fried stuff, paranthas, ice-creams, cold drinks.
• There are many leafy vegetables in the market : radish, cabbage, leaves of fulgobi, etc. You don't have to stick to spinach and fenugreek.
• Eat only when hungry.
• Listen to soft music while eating.

This diet plan is summarized from the marathi book on Nutrition for working women, written by the nutritionist, Jayashri Pendharkar.

Coming soon (don't know when), another post on nutrition for guys and kids. We got to feed them too.

Cinema, mon amour

This is to remind myself, that Cinema, I love you still.

I might now prefer blogging than holding a video camera. I might have given up dreams of ever making my feature film. And sometimes I may wonder how I have forgotten the names of the films and the filmmakers I so passionately talked about, under the wisdom tree.

Where did I go wrong, I wonder. What was the name of the thing I left behind in the Film Institute? Why does it evade me now? Does it not like Bombay, or television, or video? It does disappear totally from my heartmind when I make documentary films, the commissioned variety.

The ones we used to see in theaters before the feature film began. Not like the ones Rao saab, our editing teacher showed us. In which there are yards and yards of footage of a boy sitting in a boat lazily sailing over a placid lake.

Now, ofcourse, I dare not keep a shot that long. If I make a film about cycling, it should not show too many cyclists just cycling. Make them say something, no. If I make a film on farming, why use the sunrise? The sun takes far too long to rise. Yes, the colours change, but so what? Is that the point one is trying to make here?

Is it the point? A film on photosynthesis? Why do you want to show the kid playing with a leaf?
Ah, it comes to me! It's name ! What I left behind in the Insti! It is antipoint! No such name exists? Oh well...

God, if you did not want me to use it, why did you give me a right brain? Said I, till a few years passed and my sweetheart of a husband, the nerd, introduced me to blogging! No more producers shitting on the head, but old beaux's commenting, hey I didn't know you are an artist! So what if this doesn't pay, I am willing to starve, so hungry for creation and appreciation am I.

And thus it happens, slowly, that instead of that cut, instead of the light, its the word, the idea, the sentence that I mix in my morning cup of tea.

However subtle, there is an inner unveiling that takes place when one continues to express without fear of judgment.

Why else, did I suddenly remember, a cut today, maybe a decade after I cut it?

The name of the film is, 'And so flows the Indrayani.'

Indrayani is the river that flows, mainly for Tukaram, the poet saint from Maharashtra. The story goes that Tukaram was an absent minded, lost to bliss godmad character. In times of poverty, read joblessness, he was offered to stand guard in a corn field, to shoo away birds who flocked to munch the ripe corn.

Our poet-saint, he did his job. Tukaram composed the bhajan, 'Adhi beeja ekle. Beeja ankireley, rope vadhile,' ( in the beginning, was one seed, it sprouted, and there was a tree), while the sparrows finished off the entire corn.

None of this features in the film, 'And so flows...' But it has a shot, of a couple of sparrows sitting on an upturned piece of corn hanging in Tukaram's temple doorway. The background score is a varkari singing a bhajan, in the temple by the river. One sparrow flies off, maybe to her little ones, to feed them some corn. Then she comes back, and both the sparrows peck the corn. This editor does not cut the shot till both sparrows have eaten their full and flown away, out of the frame.

A simple buddhist monk

"It is God alone who has become everything. But in Man he manifests himself the most. God is directly present in the man who has the pure heart of a child
and who laughs and cries and dances and sings in divine ecstasy."

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna , page 208.

His holiness the Dalai Lama had come to Ahmedabad. I was among the fortunate few who attended his talk at IIM A, on Friday afternoon, 17th Jan.

The topic of the talk, in IIM fashion, was 'Ethics in Business'.

In his introduction, the director said that the Dalai Lama was an incarnation of the Buddha.

'No such thing', the Lama said, and tweaked the director's mustache!

'All I am, and all I would like to be known as, is a simple Buddhist monk. Yes, there is a very deep karmic connection with the Buddha, but incarnation, no no.'

'And, if you take my advise on business, you will probably sink in eight days.' He talked in broken, prompted English. A translator was sitting behind him, whispering in his ears.

'And so, I will talk about three things, love, compassion and warmheartedness.' He laughed, eyes twinkling merrily.

Somehow, I felt a deep relaxation in my gut and I dosed off, telling myself to remember the essence because this was too meaty, this was going to get in my blog.

Hence, please note, the material in this post has spun out from the subconscious, or from that which does not sleep.

'To love and to be loved, is very essential for the well being. Even science agrees. There was a research among monkey babies. Those that were allowed to touch, and be held by their mother monkeys, survived and those that were separated, died. Every body, child and adult, needs compassion to survive.
So to have a warm heart is good for the immune system, for health.
And now,' he rubbed his hands lovingly at this point, ' let us have some inter...action...some question and answers.'

He did not like written questions, so he asked people to directly ask the questions.

Question: Your holiness, in today's busy lives, it is very difficult to find the time to meditate. So how should we aspire to get the peace that you radiate?

'Yes. Life has problems. I too have a problem. My country, Tibet, is not a country anymore. It is not there.
So, the answer is, become a refugee.' Much laughter.

'Next question.' he asked, enthusiastically.

Question: 'What do you feel about the friendly relations between India and China? Don't you feel bad ?

'There is a positive side to every situation. The common person in Tibet, wants development, modernization. So, it is better we are in China. But, we also feel that the ancient Tibetan culture, our rich spirituality, and clean air, should be protected.
For every life, there comes a test. This is our test. I see that a lot of the old Tibetans, have emerged stronger people. Suffering makes strong people. Even in Europe, I notice that the young people, very soon, they are fall down. ( The translator prompter, was trying his best to whisper, but his holiness was on a roll.) The older, those who saw the war, are going strong.'

'Next question!' he waves his arms.

Question: How do you reconcile to the rude behavior of the Indians to the Tibetans?

'India, is our Guru. The disciple has come to the Guru. For shelter. How can the Guru refuse?
When I spoke to Pandit Nehru, he agreed to giving us asylum. So, India is now my home!'

'Next Question!' he is so full of joy.

Question: What is your task in life?

'I have three tasks. As a human being, to talk about the three basic human qualities to people: love, compassion, and warmheartedness. As a Buddhist monk, to hold the teaching and the practice of the Buddha. And, since this body (pinches his bare arm), this flesh, is born in the soil of Tibet, I will try, till I die, to preserve its ancient culture, our rich spirituality, and the clean, beautiful air.

Next Question!' he announces. What a mood he is in. What a mood he has created!

Last Question: Do you think there is life outside? In space?

'Oh yes. Even he Buddha mentioned that there is life, a lot of life, all over.' A pause, then he changes the track. ' But it will take many many years, thousands of years, to go in the spaceship to far away, and then to meet someone weird, not happen in our life, I think.
Better to live peacefully here only.'

Bar Camp Ahmedabad

How many are attending a barcamp for the first time?

All but two raise their hands. I don't raise my hands because I am holding this laptop.

This is a live blog on the Bar Camp, Ahmedabad.

So what is a Bar Camp?

An unconference, a treat for entrepreneurs, a place for youngsters on the brink of life, of start ups. A non-organized affair. Depending on the mood of the city , the venue, people walk in and write their name on the board outside, in the slot and someone else can come and rub it out.

Most of these participants are students, ripe and receptive for exchanging knowledge.
There are three rooms, this is happening in IIM, Ahmedabad, new building, on a crisp Saturday morning on 19th January.

The speakers are impromptu ( its an unconference, you see), but some have planned ppts.

You can be informal, you can boo out a speaker, you can walk in and out. Lets see how much fun we have .

The first talk is by Sanjay Banerjee . He talks on the mindset of entrepreneurs. He talks of dreaming big and commercialising your hobby, and leadership skills.

Second talk, by Ankur Shukla is a success story, from a small city Jabalpur. He mentioned a large figure, something close to eighty thousand hits on his websites, KoolKampus.com, Kyapoocha.com, KoolKareers.com , all being run by his company Kudos Infomedia

End of first post.


SESSION TWO:

I have moved to another classroom, a pretty lady (dressed in a saree) is going to talk of something no-technical, she said.

Her name is Vinita Shetty, the topic is mobile Governance (whatever that means).

Before she begins, we have Ruchit talking, about how he is going to change the mobile interface within a couple of years. He passes around his cell, showing people how it is already possible to access not just internet, also laptops, other mobiles cameras, from his server.

You can check him out at http://www.ruchit.mymobilesite.net/ Type in ruchit , and the password is samsung123.

Now for the pretty lady, the mGov.

People carry mobile phones, not laptops. (True.)

So people should govern themselves, through the mobile phone. Citizen to Government information flow, is what she is proposing. Make hell for the Govt, call them for every and any problem you have. A police complaint? You need not go there, sign up, just call them and the complaint will be registered.

A fresh new approach to democracy, where public private people (ppp) rule, hierarchy diminishes, voices can be heard.

The common man with a cell phone is empowered, protected, connected.

This was Vinita Shetty, talking of mGov. You can get more on metrobhoomi.com.

Lunch break!

Session three begins:

This is about motivational marketing.

The speaker, Sashi starts with a song, Na todo dil mera, a song I have never heard in my life.

He is gonna tell us about a tool to market. Make it easy for people to buy. That is marketing. Motivation is the fuel that makes a business run, or a person buy from you.

Motivational marketing: Be responsible to your customer if you want him to come back to you.

People buy, act on emotion and later, justify with logic. So emotion is the boss. Take aim at your customer's emotions.

How does a person benefit from your product? Directly and indirectly. Use emotional stimulators.

• Fear. Insurance policies are based on fear of death.

• Love. Connection. A personal touch. Children. Grandparents. Family.

• Sex. A woman's magazine like Cosmopolitan sports a sexy lady on the cover. It gets the men for obvious reasons, and the woman drool to find out how they should be looking to get attention.

• Money / Saving money. Most sales pull crowds on this emotional motivator.

You will find more on www.motivationalmarketing.com.

I need a break, see you next session!

Next talk. Sunayana, a student of NIT Surat Engennering, presents an interesting design for the web.

She is talking about Exploring Online Credibility, on websites like Wikipidia.

How to help people judge the credibility of information on Wikipedia. Any person can go make whatever contribution, factual, imaginary to the contents of the Wikipedia. For example, the Gujarat page carries many factual errors of the earthquake. This misinformation has survived there since many months.

Author credibility , reference credibility, endurance credibility can be the different sections depending on which, you arrive at an average credibility rating. This is mentioned in a small, separate area of the page. And this credibility rating will help in knowing how correct the information could be.

This is her online presentation. www.cs.cmu.edu/ourcs/presentations/ExploringOnlineCredibility

Now it is mykavita. Write your own poem.

Rakshit is getting ragged, or so it seems. Finally, he gets the point through. All of these internet websites like orkut, facebook, etc, communicate short messages, but these ain't serous writers, no sir. However, serous writers, meaning original, long time writers write blogs. They blog their thoughts, their poems, etc. However, there is no copy write on blog. Creative commons a is big confusion.

Your poems can get stolen from you, they can use them for commercial purpose like Fanna (a blockbuster hindi movie). And if that happens, can creative commons do anything?

In an unconference, this can also happen.

Sorry, I have lost count of the sessions. Now I am back in classroom 1, for Tapan Shah's attempt to demystify Facebook applications.

History of Facebook, is that it originated in Harvard, then opened to other universities, high schools, and now it is open to all.

The twenty four year old who mothered it is now a billionaire.

What is the one thing that draws crowds in a social network? Asks Tapan. Gossip, he answers. What are your freinds doing, who are they talking to? Basically time pass.

He gives something like a tutorial (that mostly bounced off my head) on Anatomy of Applications.

'Where did you get this from?' I ask him.

'I stole it,' said the hacker.

'So do you have it saved up somewhere online?'

Here : http://developer.facebook.com/

Feedback session :

More participation needed, be more vocal on mailing lists, no registration please, its dynamic, ideally, in a barcamp , there are no power point presentations. A ppt comes between the speaker and the participant. It creates a formal wall. It was fun. I am happy I came. The best part was that you can move out whenever you get bored.

What is a Bar camp? Where is the bar? Is there a bar?

And India won too. Claps claps claps.