To The Readers

Doesn’t it look like a cherry preserved with sugar.  But it is just an old, dying inedible berry, covered in snow!!  

Dancers from Greece:  World Culture Festival: Art of Living, Berlin, 2011

This is a note to all my readers.  I have been writing this blog for over three years now.  The first year was not that productive.  I used images and many previously written articles.  But now, I have nearly 40 drafts on this blog, about a dozen half written articles on my hard drive, and about a thousand ideas about what I could write.  I have also started contributing to another website that features creative writing pieces.  But that one, unlike this blog, is not anonymous.  So, I have to be careful.  But I am partial to my readers on this blog.

In the last one year, traffic has picked up.  On the blog it says I have four followers.  All of who I bullied into joining.  They are my nieces and nephews.  But I have about four loyal readers in the US.  I  am not sure if these are friends or some people I do not know. 

But first, I would like to thank you for reading.  I cannot tell you the great feeling I get when I hit publish on this blog.

Often times these posts are written on the spur of the moment. I hardly get time to devote to this.  Sometimes they are written in lunch breaks.  Other times they remain half written for months or sleep in  the corner of my mind for weeks before anything comes out.

I apologize that often I have to back and edit the articles. But as I stated elsewhere, none of this is thought out.  It comes from within me, with the feelings and encounters.  I love being alive.  There are days when I get depressed but for all the uncertainties I have had, I am an amazingly positive person. 

My secret?  My friends. I have some great people in my life.  An excellent family and just much good will around me. 

And now, I have a few readers.  When I write, I have these anonymous people in my mind.  I do not know who you all are...but I am utterly grateful to you.

None of this writing takes me further in my career, but like meditation, it has become as important as breathing to me.  

I am sure many people come to this site only for the pictures.  I still remain grateful.  

However, I wanted to try something.  I wanted to place ads on my website.  Just to see if this is a viable way?  But also to understand the workings of this side of writing, especially online.  

And the reason I am writing here is because I would like to know if any of the readers have an issue with that.  Or they consider it would become commercial and so would not like any ads on the blog.  In case this is not acceptable to you, please leave a comment.  With my schedule, it might take me some time to organize all this, but I still wanted to inform and confirm...

Once again, thanks for visiting and thanks for reading.  I love to write.  So, please know that you add to my joy.  And give me this feeling that I might have something to say...ever so fleetingly!! 

Wise Ravens

I just had to try to upload this. Courtesy PBS. I got this from a friend. And have heard so much about Ravens. Finally in a land where you can see them often, many of the stories related to ravens make sense. One knows why ravens are such respected creatures in mythology, (including Native American mythology).

Made for Little Girls

About time we pull our pics from summer and fall to remind ourselves of gifts that nature bestows on us....Well, to be fair, even with the snow it is quite pretty right now!! I usually go for long walks.  In winter one has to be careful due to snow and ice.  In summer, both walks and bike rides are fun.

One thing I notice here in small town Sweden is that though the houses are usually not as large as they can be in the US, the yards are huge.  And often times they will have private swings.  Many a times, you will see tree houses, or playhouses made for children.  Alright, let us be fair, they are mostly made with little girls in mind. This one caught my eye.

It was complete with its own garden tools!!  Notice the spade hanging by the door.  And the house was placed right next to a bench and a table for entertaining guests.  

Here is a real tree house.  

And here are the tools that girls might use to spruce it up before they call it a home!!  With all these extra additions to the vicinity of the house, it must be easier for children to entertain their friends!! Or at least in the summer!

And this above picture was really intriguing for me.  It was taken the same day I took pictures of the moon.  When I looked back at this house, the pink light seemed to stand out.  As if some youngster was having an encounter with an alien!! How could I resist taking a snapshot!! All pink?  Probably a girl’s room too!!

To Those Who Lost Their Lives, and Their Families

I have been thinking about this for a while.  Ever since it happened nearly two weeks ago.  The school children who lost their lives---for no reason.

No amount of understanding of heaven or earth will ever make sense, to those who knew them, especially their parents.  While I hope the children who survived will not be scarred with fear and hopelessness towards humanity, I am sure the event will leave a much deeper mark than any media or psychologist can understand.  After looking at a few pictures of those innocents who were killed in the mindless shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary, I broke down.  Turned off my radio, and stopped reading the news.

All I wanted to do was send warmth and love to all those affected.  In essence anyone who heard the story and has a heart.   Without making any grand gestures, or writing lofty posts about our oneness and connectedness or any claims about what happens to the souls after they leave us, or karma and its reasons....I just want to bow and say---we are sorry.  We fail children everyday, everyday in so many ways.

I hope and pray that our pain, and sorrow will become peace that will light the world!!

I leave here with a translation (from some user at Youtube) of a Bollywood song that deals with the confusion of those who are left behind:

Jane Chale Jaate Hain Kahan (Wonder where they go)

Those who leave this world, I wonder where do they go

How to find them, not even a footprint to follow

I wonder which is that town, from where there is no letter or news

Whenever one remembers them, to the lips comes a plea

The ones who leave never to return, wonder where they flee

My lost companion of life, a friend akin to the lamp and wick

You are lost to me as if, with the departure of monsoon

The flying black clouds, I wonder where do they go.

More Musings about the Moon

“I don't know if there are men on the moon, but if there are they must be using the earth as their lunatic asylum”

George Bernard Shaw quotes (Irish literary Critic, Playwright and Essayist. 1925 Nobel Prize for Literature, 1856-1950)

“See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls.”

Mother Teresa of Calcutta quotes (Albanian born Indian Missionary and Founder of the Order of the Missionaries of Charity. Nobel Prize for Peace in 1979. 1910-1997)

“When a finger points to the moon, the imbecile looks at the finger”

Chinese Proverbs quotes

The Burglar

neglected to take

the window's moon

                                                                                       John Daido Loori, Zen of Creativity, p. 154

Sometimes, the moon is the most expensive thing a Burglar could take....but AH.... the most precious of things can never be stolen!!  They can only be enjoyed....like love!!  There is a whole tradition of stealing love, like Lord Krishna does, in hindu mythology.  But this stealing of love is still done by belonging.  By noticing, by caring, by giving of one’s attention.  Like Lord Krishna does for Radha.  But, in the final analysis, the richness of it all lies in experiencing the joy in your lover’s eyes.

Just like the moon, so rich and silvery, can never be had, but may be in its reflection, which is fleeting....

“I don't know if there are men on the moon, but if there are they must be using the earth as their lunatic asylum”

 George Bernard Shaw quotes (Irish literary Critic, Playwright and Essayist. 1925 Nobel Prize for Literature, 1856-1950)

“See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls.”

 Mother Teresa of Calcutta quotes (Albanian born Indian Missionary and Founder of the Order of the Missionaries of Charity. Nobel Prize for Peace in 1979. 1910-1997)

“When a finger points to the moon, the imbecile looks at the finger”

 Chinese Proverbs quotes

Karlstad, Sweden, December 2010.  

We were headed towards town for a faculty dinner, just before Christmas break.  As we all stood freezing at the bus stop --yes Swedes included, none of us could ignore the bright moon. I was lucky, as always, to have my camera hanging on my knapsack.  

I have also to acknowledge the richness that I have been given in the midst of all confusion.  The four full moons between beginning of August 2012, and end of October 2012 (August 2012 had two full moons) were all spent in different countries on three different continents.

They all had their own flavors, the moonrise over the Drakensberg mountain, the shiny moon of early autumn in Sweden, the quiet silent one in Bhutan and finally the one in Singapore--waving a finger at busy singaporeans to slow down.....

Bhutan September 28, 2012

Bhutan September 28, 2012

Both the above the below pictures were taken in Bhutan.  The starkness is so apparent, the pictures look black and white.  If you click on the pictures and see them in their enlarged version, you will notice the grey clouds framing the moon.

However, if you notice the following two pictures, you will see the distant lights of Paro City.  I remember staring at it in the dark  Bhutan is quite safe, so I could simply breath in the fresh, slightly chilly Bhutan air and simply whisper a ‘thankyou!!'

Bhutan September 29, 2012

Bhutan September 29, 2012

The following two pictures are again from Karlstad, Sweden. Feb 2011.  Notice how bright is lady of night (In India the moon is a ‘man’. Affectionately referred to as Mama, mother’s brother!! 

Karlstad, Feb, 2011

Here are two quotes from different traditions, Buddha vs. Mark Twain.  Both of whom I have affection for....for different reasons. I leave you with these two quotes for you to ‘muse a bit about the moon!!’ and its place in our world, thoughts and cultures.

“Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”

Buddha quotes (Hindu Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.)

“Every one is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody”

Mark Twain quotes (American Humorist, Writer and Lecturer. 1835-1910) PS:  Here are links to all time favorite songs where lovers are talking to the ‘Chanda’ (the moon) or their love....through the moon! 1. Dam Bhar Jo Udhar Moon Phere (If only (dear Moon) you look away for a moment, I will show affection to my beloved) 2. Yeh raat yeh chandni phir kahan (Neither this evening nor this moonlight will return (in the same way), so come my beloved to meet me.

3.  Yeh raat bheegi bheegi:

This Rainy Night ...these stunning surroundings
And Rising gradually rising, that lovely moon
Why is the Moonlight silent after setting me on Fire 
and the beautiful evening signals me away from sleep

4. Aao Tumhen Chand Pe Le Jayen:  Let’s take you to the moon (where santa claus lives 
according to this  song...not the North Pole..Too far from India!! :)  
This song is a famous Bollywood Lullaby from the 1970s!! 

5. Chand Sifarish Jo Karta Hamari: If moon recommended me to you...it would 
have told you that I ‘like you’ (english subtitles)

6. CHANDA CHAMKE (the moon shines):  A tongue twister--to be sung with children!!

I TRULY HOPE THE READERS WILL NEVER SEE ‘THE MOON’ THE SAME AGAIN...

ENJOY!!

The Sound of Snow

                                                PepperMill, State College, Winter 2004.

If only you could hear

the sound of snow...

                                         Hakuin Ekaku

John Daido Loori, Zen of Creativity, p. 153

A Safe Journey, A Safe Return!

Phurba Dorji: A seven year old monk blesses a visitor!!

What is your name?

What do you like to eat? Hear his friend whisper 'banana'.  In the video that I took on my semi prof video camera he had said he liked Chocolates! 

What do you like to drink?

What time do you wake up in the morning? 

After I interviewed him I saw him play with his friends--just like any other child......After all 7 year olds the world over are the same.

I see a safe journey, I see a safe return

May I become at all times, both now and forever
A protector for those without protection
A guide for those who have lost their way
A ship for those with oceans to cross
A bridge for those with rivers to cross
A sanctuary for those in danger
A lamp for those without light
A place of refuge for those who lack shelter
And a servant to all in need. 

Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama

The Dzong, is the first major building you see as you drive from Paro airport towards the town.  It is colored in the same colors as all buildings in Bhutan.  But the first day is when you notice it.  It leaves a sense of calm in you.
The building is painted white on the outside and all the windows and roof work is done in Bhutanese style.  Most of the buildings in the country are built that way to keep a uniformity.  The Dzongs are the fortress like structures.  Only they are meant to train the monks.

In all the Buddhist countries that I have been to so far, there is a wisdom that underlies many things. I am sure there is corruption and other wrong doings, that result from ego. But it does seem that they work from a stand point of developing the character of an individual.  Often those who are too poor to send their children to school send them to the Dzongs.  The young are then trained in reading and writing, the language of the country, and knowledge of the mind.  Other than getting education, these young men are made to think of character and its significance.  The focus is on impermanence and therefore a persistence in joy. 

In Lao, the young monks usually stayed in these monasteries till they were twenty and then joined the real world. In Thailand many adults, after being disillusioned by the 'real world' come to the monasteries as a refuge to save their souls.

In Bhutan, where like all buddhist countries, sending children to monasteries is considered praiseworthy, families often pride in sending one of their children to the Dzong --to get an education that might save the entire family.  

So, about ten days before I left, I finally made it to the Dzong.  It was a nice 25 minute walk from hotel to town.  And then about 10 minutes of an uphill walk that must equal an hour of walking.  When I arrived there, I was huffing and puffing.  But seeing the red robes of the monk flutter in the wind against the white backdrop of the fortress like building brought me the well needed rest.

The fun part about Bhutan was that most people spoke hindi.  After generic talk with the guard and other monks, I walked in.

One of the thing as a traveller is that you must have the time to actually understand the country.  Not in the country but before you arrive there.  I, am embarrassed to say that I do not do that.  But that is because my goal is different.  I never arrive as a tourist.  I arrive as a person.  I meet other people, make friends and  leave with friends.  But I learn much, because often I get the inside story.

So, when I enter these monasteries and temples, which after the first few all look the same, I look for the human element.

This time, I spoke with young monks, who were not very well versed in english.  I took some pictures --of Paro Cho (River Paro), some shots of the river and the surrounding area of the Dzong, was lucky enough to get an amazing shot of a plane flying above the mountains.  

And then I asked the monk if I could just stay inside the monastery for a short while, in silence.  They agreed.

I set my timer and sat there.  I could feel the gentle glow of the  butter lamps, sense the gaze of Buddhas carved in stone, breathe the colors inside the monastery.  It must have been only a few minutes when I heard this pitter patter.

I turned around to see this tiny thing fixing his robes. 

The littlest monk....7 years--my nephew's age.  But with a big commanding name--Phurba Dorji!!

I could not hold my chuckle, and got restless just looking at him.  I wanted to touch his forehead, pull his robe, ask him questions.

He spoke no English, I realized very quickly.  In in a few minutes monks of all sizes were around me. This tiny one ran out with the ones his size--probably playing a game of catch.

I could no longer sit in peace, I had to capture this.  

I went outside and I hugged him.  In fact, I could not stop hugging and kissing him.

Older monks helped me converse with him.  

What do you want to be?  What do you like to eat?  What do you like to drink is what I asked him.

His friend who was a year older translated some for him.  The older monk, who understood better, kept our conversation alive.  But interestingly enough there was a 7 year old-- a non-monk, who translated english to Dzongkha just as well.  Children in Bhutan learn both Dzongkha and English in schools. 

His father passed away, and the mother has six other children.  He was sent to the Dzong to become a monk, only a month ago.  So, the newest monk.  A month old....  

I told him that i will take him with me in my bag, if he was ready to come with me. 

I asked him who was his favorite sibling? 

'Mom' he said.

He told me that he aspires to be the head lama.  I told him he had to bless me now, since I wont be allowed to hug when he is the big shot!! 

He giggled at least 6 times before the other monk got this shot from my camera....

Readers will be happy to know that on my next planned visit, I took him bottles of mango juice and some chocolates, as he had asked me to.  

Ek Mulakat, Sar e Rah! (A Meeting on the Way!)

Sabah and Noyan, November 2012

Here I ask them their names and where are they from--Sweden? I ask..'No, Afghanistan' they say. Really, they are a lot less from Afghanistan than I am from India.  And I get confused often where I am from.  Sometimes I wonder if the whole world is an immigrant and only a few of us have the courage to acknowledge that!! 

Here I talk to Noyan in hindi.  I ask Noyan to say something in hindi.  He is confused. I ask him his name.  Then ask him how did he learn hindi, 'my mom' he responds.  Sabah did not speak hindi very well and so she is trying to slide off the frame!!

I have to agree when people say that I have the best experiences.  The same things that bring restlessness also bring the freedom of just waiting a little extra time, paying attention to things that we may not usually pay attention to--when someone is waiting at home.

I have been in this habit of small talk for ages now.  I think regardless of how busy I am, I would always engage in this 'causal conversation' that has brought me so much over the years.

So yesterday was Diwali.  Our festival of lights.  Our Christmas and ID and Hannukah!! But I had forgotten about it, since I have been travelling.

The day before yesterday I went into town to get a few things I knew i needed. Namely 'lights'.

As always I have to ask for directions in these areas.

I thought it was a long shot, but I tried anyway when I saw two young people--very young...under 12 walking on the street.

'Excuse me, do you speak english?"

Ao, Yes, the boy nodded.

"Do you know where is the store?"

Yes, we are going there.

And I followed them.

'Hur manga sprak talar du?' How many languages do you speak?" I asked

'Three' (Svenska, Engelska, Afghani!!)

"Afghani?"  I got excited.  All these places seem close to home.  I know that Afghanistan has gotten a bad reputation for the last few decades, but I know Afghanistan and its Kabul from Tagore's Kabuliwallah. One of my all time favorite stories.  The story has been brought to screen in at least two languages, may be more.  I read it in 4th grade, and have read several times since.  In addition I made my advance media writing students in the US read the story.

The main character and his friendship with a five year old girl was so endearing that I always wanted to know people from Afghanistan.

The there was an Afghani shepherd who used to stop early spring around our house and request my grandfather for the new soft leaves from our Peepal tree, to feed his goats.  The green eyed owner of goats was so darn beautiful that we kids would line up to see him.  Sometimes he would forget to ask permission and my grandfather would be yelling at him to come down and leave his tree alone.  My grandfather loved plants.   If we wanted to aggravate him, all we had to do was pluck a leaf from any of the plants or trees in our yard--while he was watching!!

In case the readers are wondering if I grew up in a village--NOPE, in the liveliest of all cities.  New Delhi, India.  But as is common knowledge, many centuries live in India at the same time.  And so shepherds and cow owners were always among us!!

So I was excited to hear that these kids were Afghani.  Obviously they are first generation swedish.

'Which Afghani language do you speak?"

'Dari, Hazare..'  he said, and I smiled.

He asked me where I was from. I usually respond I grew up in India.

'Indien?" asked the young boy.

'Yes'

And just on a sar sari taur (casually) I asked--' Do you know any Indian language?"

"Yes'

I thought he was joking.

'Hindi aati hai? Know hindi?" I asked (Hindi, is considered the national language.  Although what is official in India is always debatable.  But Hindi is by far the most commonly spoken language in India. Also, being the Bollywood language it lands far and wide.  I spoke hindi with many people in Bhutan for that reason.'

"Hain' he said.

Ok, that is just one word I thought.

"kaise aati hai? how do you know?

'Pata nahi' he shrugged 'Don't know.'

This can be happening I thought, but I had to explore that, 'My mom taught me' he said.

"May be hindi movies?"

"Yes' he nodded.

I smiled at both the kids and asked them if they would let me hug them.

They did. We exchanged a few more sentences in hindi before I asked them to let me take their pictures. 

The pictures here do not do them justice.  They were such beautiful kids, but I was touched by their simplicity and willingness to help, to talk, to let me hug them.

I know we live in a crazy world, kids should not allow silly people like me too close to them.  But it is because of these trusting children, that 'idealist souls' like me find a way to enjoy my ride on the winding road...in this wanton world.

Before I went into the grocery store, I acknowledged how calm and peaceful my heart felt.  I hugged them again.

And went about my work, as if it was a sar sari (casual) happening!! But don't we all when we experience little miracles --varje dag (everyday?)!!

Be open to these miracles, people be open...it will transform us!!

Shukran (thank you) to Noyan and Sabah--for reminding me that!!

PS: I also wanted to put these pictures here to show that yes they are afghani and they children, just like kids anywhere--only with a an understanding of a few extra languages.