Secret Santa

The car took a sharp turn on DP road right in front of the crossword. The black paint of barriers on footpath, meant to stop people from driving on the footpath, was peeling off in parts almost resembling the map of India. I walked briskly trying to avoid the brown stray dog approaching me, his tail moving rapidly trying hard to seek my attention. I climbed up the stairs. The guard was sitting on the old wooden table. The blue temperature scanner lying there. He seemed least bothered that I was entering the store. His black moustache was ragged like a used-up bottle brush. I went to him offering to get my temperature checked which he did, his “please leave me alone” expression had not changed a bit. I had to find a gift for you for less than 150 Rs which seemed like an impossible task. The smell of new books mixed with crisp early winter air greeted me. The first table had its usual bestsellers and coffee mug. I picked up a red coffee mug which had a combination of round and square shape. Turned it upside down. It had a white tab with red borders right in the middle of which in faded ink was a number Rs 350. I kept it back disappointed wondering who made up this rule of 150 Rs. I was convinced that I could not find anything in this shop. I started meandering around the isles. I was getting lost in the works of Richard Bach, J Khrisnamurthy , Osho and others. The music system was playing an instrumental of a recent Arijit song. The dog had somehow followed me to the store I saw him sitting right across from me. His green eyes looking straight in mine, his tongue vibrating with each rapid breath. His tail which was now resting on the floor was still moving but less rapidly than before. Annoyed I started to walk away briskly moving through multiple isles reaching to a darker corner of the bookstore. Shaking my head thinking to myself that COVID had really affected the way businesses operate. Looking back constantly trying to make sure that the stray dog was not still following me. Suddenly my eyes fell on this black book with a red circle in the middle on the top in white was written MURAKAMI and on the bottom in smaller font “The wind-up bird chronicles”. Haruki Murakami is my current favourite author and I was surprised to find an entire section just for his books. I got lost in browsing through his masterpieces.  I suddenly heard the panting of the dog again. I looked around, but he was not there. That’s when I noticed that my shoelaces were untied so I kneeled down to tie my laces. As I looked up I found a small white gem with a black starry sky circle in the middle and on top was written MURAKAMI I quickly turned it around and the price label brought a smile on my lips. 

 “No matter how far they go, people can never be anyone but themselves.”

The power of the present moment is that it is the only moment, which harbors the possibility of choice: A review of, The Choice Embrace the Possibilities. By Edith Eager

Dr Edith Eagers life story revolves around something her mother told her as a child. “ “Just remember,” she says, “no one can take away from you what you’ve put in your mind.” ” The book chronicles her life journey which is expressed through bold and lucid transparency.  Her mantra is to take care of what is happening on the inside regardless of what his happening on the outside. Yet, it is what happened to her outside, which makes this a soul churning and exhilarating read.

Struggles accompanied Dr Eager from her early childhood when she had to deal with her cross-eye, shattered expectation of her mother who desperately wanted to have a boy and being compared her extremely beautiful and talented elder sisters. She overcame all of these and created her own space to become leading ballet dancer and gymnast. This space though was torn apart when she was expelled form the Hungarian gymnastic team because of her Jewish heritage and this was just a beginning of her suffering. The ugly, beastly cruel storm that smothered humanity with its fangs of anti-Semitism   also robbed Edith of everything she had. Her first love, his romance, her house her childhood, her father, her mother and her identity were clawed away from her by the greatest stigma on humanity. Yet her dignity prevailed, even when she was forced to dance in her camp for the entertainment of Dr Mengele the evil, which took her mother away from her. She endured all by holding on to the voice inside her which told her, if you survive today tomorrow you will be free and by holding on to her only link to reality, her sister Magda.  The two sisters clung on to each other often sacrificing their individual freedom to face the wrath of Auschwitz and Nazi atrocities and survive to tell their story.

The book also tells the story of her post freedom liberation to America, her domestic struggles and conquests to become a psychologist. She recounts how she faced her own demons while dealing with her patients and how she conquered them. While helping her patients cope with violence, racism and pain she constantly challenged her own beliefs, of anger bigotry and suffering. When the moment presented itself she took up her own challenge to visit Kehlsteinhaus (eagles nest) the place from where Hitler had orchestrated the crimes against humanity and against millions of Edith Eagers. She stood on the rubbles left of the nest and forgave Hitler thus announcing victory of humanity over evil, of Dr Edith Eager over Adolf Hitler. However, the most poignant moment of the book is when she visits Auschwitz and relives the dreaded moment in the line when Angel of death Dr Mengele pointed her mother towards the line of death but pushed her to the line that would survive. Going back to that moment she forgave herself for surviving but not being able to save her mother, thus letting go of the burden of guilt that she carried for all the years after her liberation from the camp. The exclamation mark in her life is that she ultimately worked with military as a psychotherapist to treat PTSD and helped in treating ravages of the wars similar to the war that had ravaged her.

Out of all the cases she has described the two cases, which summarise the essence is of two women who came to her on the same day. One who was in huge pain because her son was suffering from a deadly disease and the other was in pain because the color of her new car did not look good. As disparate the situation of these two women was, their pain still was equally intense. Ultimately, how we respond to a situation depends on our mind and our thoughts, which stem from our core beliefs.  Indeed, ““We don’t know where we’re going, we don’t know what’s going to happen, but no one can take away from you what you put in your own mind.” 

This book illuminates the path for your soul to conquer suffering, like none other.

Do thorns feel pain?

Frosty silver clouds

Dirt specks on the windowsill

The lone cactus weeps

My first attempt at Haiku

Me, Baba and Mahatma Gandhi

People leave us and we do not have control over when they have to go. We will all have to leave one day to. As the cliché goes, death is the only constant in life. I was having a discussion with my son yesterday about how in the future intelligence and maybe even consciousness could be built into robots and if that happens how life could become perpetual. He made an interesting observation; he said, “ Dad if there is no death wouldn’t life get boring? As there won’t be any excitement for doing anything? Right now we try to do as many things as possible in our lifetime, but if we are supposed to live forever then there wont be any urge to do things”. Indeed, death is not just a reality of our life but in a sense it also provides a meaning and maybe even purpose to our life. We must celebrate death and lifetimes of people have who departed. People don’t just depart; they stay back through memories and through their influence on us. And far as influence goes, my Baba is the most influential person in my life. So today on the anniversary of the day he departed I want to write about a small anecdote, which has left a big imprint on my being.

  I grew up in a community, which hated Gandhiji. Nathuram Ghodse who assassinated Gandhi also belonged to the same community. I feel that this hatred for Gandhi probably is a means to justify the heinous actions of someone who was their own or there are other deep reasons why it exits, which I am not aware of. But the fact is that when I was growing up everyone around me hated Gandhi. Young minds can be easily influenced and from a very early age I accepted this hatred as my own emotion, slowly as I grew up into adolescence my emotions converted into opinions. I started becoming proud of these opinions. I still remember vividly how during a trip to Raj ghat , while all my friends were paying homage to Gandhiji by his Samadhi, I was standing far away fuming at how badly the man had destroyed our nation. My opinions were slowly turning into beliefs I used to often discuss my clear hatred for the man in front of my father. Baba never reprimanded me for my strong opinions neither did he try to change them with reason, the only thing he would do, each time I criticized Gandhiji, was to ask a simple question: “Its fine if you hate Gandhi but do you know the man? Before having opinions about anyone should you not at least know the man? “ Most times I brushed aside his suggestion with a long list of reasons why opinions were correct.

By the summer of 1998, I had moved to the US already well in my 20’s, I was awed by the reverence the West had for the man. My father’s constant enquire of “knowing the man” started strongly lingering in my mind so I decided to read a book which was in my small library at that time. The book was called Life of Mahatma Gadhi written by Louis Fischer. I cannot recall how the book ended up with me but I will never forget the sense of shock I felt as the book grew on me. The book sent tremors in my strong beliefs. After that, I could not get enough of Gandhiji so I got my hand on My Experiments with Truth and that book fundamentally changed me as a person. Gandhijis life story today is a key part of my moral fabric. Over a period of time as I have explored Gandhijis life story more closely, some perceived flaws in him might have manifested in my opinions of him but regardless of that my reverence for him keeps growing every day. My views today are a complete contradiction of what they were prior to the summer of 1998. Regardless of whether they have made me a better or a worse human being one thing is for sure that my views about Gandhiji today are absolutely my own views and not borrowed misbeliefs from anybody.

The best gift that my father has given me is the freedom to choose. He never imposed his views on me, so much so that, I was completely free to choose opinions which may not have been grounded in reality. It was completely okay to flirt with god or accept atheism. There never was never any force to choose any particular career, only a suggestions that the consequences of my choices are also my own. My father nurtured my free will at the same time through constant enquires he kept my opinions honest. Without any preaching, he taught me to always challenge my opinions and make sure that my beliefs are my own and not imposed or borrowed from others. There is no doubt that my father has hugely influenced who I have become today, good or bad is for others to judge. Honestly it does not even matter much because, thanks to Baba, I will always remain open to change!

The Truth

A Flower is a Flower.

Regardless of whether it symbolizes love or tragedy

Love is Love

Regardless of whether it causes pain or ecstasy

Pain is Pain

Regardless of whether it is by intention or by accident

Intention is Intention

Regardless of whether it is for good or for evil

Good is Good

Regardless of whether it is by truth or illusion

The Truth is the Truth

And always worth fighting for says the warrior of light!

Belief II

I believe in:

Failure without fear

Victory without pride

Class without prejudice

Confidence without arrogance

Competition without opponent

Relationship without expectation

Journey without destination

Wealth without money

Religion without god

Society without division

Philosophy without justification

Communication without interpretation

Belief without hesitation

Spirit

I walk with ghosts of each past life

As we scale mountains beyond time

Oceans stars suns and skies

All fuse in one to become my eyes

We gaze together, the spirit and me

Watching the moment when all came to be