Show And Tell

The hours of darshan were over, curtains drawn and place was getting readied for the discourse scheduled for the evening.

People, mostly middle aged and some old, were settling down on the huge blankets spread out on the floor.

The pravachankaar (speaker), a man of god, clad in ochre robes cleared his throat and got ready to begin. The mike was adjusted for his easy reach. The subject for the evening was ‘Laukeekam (worldly life) and Aanmeegam (spiritual life).’ A vexing subject if not handled right. Essentially a question of how to ride ‘two horses’ at once, with minds of their own?

Just then, a luxury car sailed in outside the temple. First, a lady got down, fussing around collecting from inside a big wicker-plate of fruits and flowers. Obviously for presenting it to the pravachankaar. A man, her husband, joined her. Aware they were holding up the proceedings, she hurried up to the make-shift dais at the far end. Coming up behind her was the man, walking slowly, head up and looking all around the pandal.  Was there a hint of disdain on his visage?

Up at the dais, she paid her obeisance’s, placing the fruits and flowers before the speaker. Among them was also an envelope most likely to contain some cash contribution. Her man stood behind, unmoved.

The man of god blessed the couple. As she turned to move away, the man came up to the pravachankaar and politely inquired if he could do something good for the bhakta’s who had assembled to listen to the discourse. The speaker nodded his assent.

What he did next shocked his good lady wife and others on the dais.

He pulled out wads of currency notes from a pouch he carried and flung them up in the air – one here, one there, another there…

In a moment, there was complete chaos…everyone scrambling to get hold of as much as they could. And some were not above snatching from another’s hands.

That was not all – the crowning ‘glory’ was the sight of the speaker going gung-ho on all fours clutching lustily a few notes in his hand.

The man winked a ‘I told you so…all fakes’ at his wife. She went pale and stood transfixed.

After a few minutes, peace and order returned.

The smug look on everyone’s face said each got his fair share of the windfall– the man had somehow done a good job of covering them equitably.

And now they were ready for ‘Laukeekam and Aanmeegam.’

When they turned their attention to the dais, the speaker was not found to be at his station.

The lady followed by her man made haste to the waiting car saving herself further embarrassment. On the way out she caught the sight of the pravachankaar down on his haunches beside the few old people left sitting out on the action minutes ago, giving them his collection.

His audience was growing impatient over the delay.  

None in the assembly including the speaker presently knew his act was by happenstance a teaser ‘show’ in real of what the discourse to follow was all about: Life for most of us, Laukeekam, is essentially one horse play, the horse guided and goaded in its ride by cries and calls of Aanmeegam.

End

..

Source: Image from Jagran.com

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Labor Of Fruits

From Jagadguru Chandrasekhara Swami’s speeches:

 

The flower in a plant/tree is usually is bitter to taste.

When it becomes a budding fruit. It’s astringent in taste (tuvarpu, thurat).

A raw unripe fruit is sour.

It then ripens into a sweet colorful fruit.

It is this ripe fruit that falls to the ground free from its bondage to the tree. Not until then.

When a raw fruit is plucked, ‘tears’ (sap) of ‘sadness’ or ‘reluctance’ ooze out at the (point of) separation of the fruit from the tree.

No such ‘tears’ are shed when a mature fruit falls off the tree.

So with people. For a person, gaining tejas (lustre) and madhuram (sweetness/calmness in disposition) and his progressively breaking his ties with the world around (maya) are mutually reinforcing.

End

Vide Ramesh Babu‎ to ஆன்மீக களஞ்சியம் and image from astroiyengar.com

Life: Trick Or Treat

”

I was waiting in line for a ride at the airport in Dubai. When a cab pulled up, the first thing I noticed was that the taxi was polished to a bright shine. Smartly dressed in a white shirt, black tie, and freshly pressed black slacks, the cab driver jumped out and rounded the car to open the back passenger door for me.

He handed me a laminated card and said: ‘I’m Abdul, your driver. While I’m loading your bags in the trunk I’d like you to read my mission statement.’

Taken aback, I read the card. It said: Abdul’s Mission Statement: “To get my customers to their destination in the quickest, safest and cheapest way possible in a friendly environment.”

This blew me away. Especially when I noticed that the inside of the cab matched the outside. Spotlessly clean!

As he slid behind the wheel, Abdul said, ‘Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a thermos of regular and one of decaf.’

I said jokingly, ‘No, I’d prefer a soft drink.’

Abdul smiled and said, ‘No problem. I have a cooler up front with regular and Diet Coke, lassi, water and orange juice.’

Almost stuttering, I said, ‘I’ll take a Lassi.’

Handing me my drink, Abdul said, ‘If you’d like something to read, I have The NST , Star and Sun Today.’

As they were pulling away, Abdul handed me another laminated card, ‘These are the stations I get and the music they play, if you’d like to listen to the radio.’

And as if that weren’t enough, Abdul told me that he had the air conditioning on and asked if the temperature was comfortable for me.

Then he advised me of the best route to my destination for that time of day. He also let me know that he’d be happy to chat and tell me about some of the sights or, if I preferred, to leave me with my own thoughts.

‘Tell me, Abdul ,’ I was amazed and asked him, ‘have you always served customers like this?’

Abdul smiled into the rear view mirror. “No, not always. In fact, it’s only been in the last two years. My first five years driving, I spent most of my time complaining like all the rest of the cabbies do. Then I heard about POWER OF CHOICE one day.”

Power of choice is that you can be a duck or an eagle.

‘If you get up in the morning expecting to have a bad day, you’ll rarely disappoint yourself. Stop complaining!’

‘Don’t be a duck. Be an eagle. Ducks quack and complain. Eagles soar above the crowd.’

‘That hit me. really hard’ said Abdul.

‘It is about me. I was always quacking and complaining, so I decided to change my attitude and become an eagle. I looked around at the other cabs and their drivers. The cabs were dirty, the drivers were unfriendly, and the customers were unhappy. So I decided to make some changes, slowly … a few at a time. When my customers responded well, I did more.’

‘I take it that it has paid off for you,’ I said.

‘It sure has,’ Abdul replied. ‘My first year as an eagle, I doubled my income from the previous year. This year I’ll probably quadruple it. My customers call me for appointments on my cell phone or leave a message on it.’

Abdul made a different choice. He decided to stop quacking like a duck and start soaring like an eagle.

”

End

Source: miscw vide Usha Narayanan.

Shayari Beautiful

(Translation not verbatim at all places)

In the quest for perfection one loses out a lot.

Even the crescent moon is as beautiful, one forgets (to appreciate)!

**

Heard it’s raining heavily in your city.

(Take care,) Don’t get too wet.

If washed away clean are all of the misunderstandings,

you’ll find me flooding your thoughts and memories.

**

How could the thorns

be blamed, Sir?

(On them) It was I placing my feet.

They were where they were.

**

End

Source: Jakir Chhipa Al-safa Tour, vide Madhav Rao Pachpute, Rajjo Rani and‎ Sushma Pandey‎ in ‎Gulzar Shayri

Only A Wave Can Die, Not The Ocean – Osho

Osho

What is our problem?

The problem is that the wave thinks itself separate from the ocean; then there are problems. If a wave thinks itself separate from the ocean, the fear of death will immediately come. The wave has to die and the wave can see all around dying waves. And you cannot deceive yourself for long. The wave is seeing that other waves are dying, and the wave knows that even in its rising, death is hidden somewhere, because those other waves a moment before were rising and now they are falling down, dispersing. So you are to die.

If the wave thinks itself separate from the ocean the fear of death is bound to appear sooner or later. But if the wave knows that it is not and only the ocean is, there is no fear of death. Only a wave can die, not the ocean. I can die, but not life. You can die, you will die – but not the cosmos, not the existence. The existence goes on waving. It has waved in you, it will wave in others. And while your wave may be disappearing, just by your dispersal other waves will arise and the ocean continues.

Once you detach yourself from the wave form, and you become one and feel one and realize oneness with the ocean, the formless, there is no death for you.

Osho, Vigyan Bhairav Tantra, Vol 1, Ch 39

No End!

Source: From here.