Monday, December 25, 2006

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow,if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty, every day.And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

it's a feel good thing

Sometimes some things happen to you that makes you feel so nice. You don’t even know why. All you know is that the feeling is true. You feel so good from deep down inside that makes you feel exhilarated, liberated and so extremely happy; Joy of the highest possible degree. People might call you weird and stupid. But that doesn’t matter, because you’re as happy as can be. It’s the feeling and also the freedom to enjoy the feeling that makes you feel so great. And don’t try to find the reason, because there is no one reason. Maybe there is no reason at all. Maybe it’s not possible to reason it out because the joy is in the feeling as a whole. Don’t try to analyze it or explain it – that will only spoil the effect. The emotion is so strong and you are so sure of it that even though the moment has passed, the feeling still lingers, and you can always come back to it and feel it all over again with the same power and intensity.

But it’s a happy feeling and so, you cannot keep it to yourself. Grief can manage on its own, but when you’re happy, you need someone to share it with, because that is when you can feel it best. The feeling is so much more big and the joy so much more great when you can find someone who can relate to it and understand it. It then goes into a different level altogether. And once you have found someone with whom you can share such a feeling, then its like you’ve come to the end of a journey. Once the feeling is there and its felt, then words become redundant. You can sit with him all day long, not say a single word and still feel that it’s the best conversation you’ve ever had. But it’s important that you share the feeling, because talking about it or knowing what it is, is different from actually feeling it. It’s like the difference between watching a porn movie and actually making love.

They talk a lot about soul mates these days - the perfect match, your other half. But the way I see it you don’t always look for someone to complete you; at least I don’t. Maybe all you need is someone wit whom you can share your incompleteness. A perfect match is not when the perfect couple come together; It’s when an imperfect couple learn to enjoy their differences.

21 Nov, 2006

Saturday, June 03, 2006

ANTIGONE (by Jean Anouilh, translated by Lewis Galantiere : an excerpt)

The spring is wound up tight. It will uncoil of itself. That is what is so convenient in tragedy. The least little turn of the wrist will do the job. Anything will set it going: a glance at a girl who happens to be lifting her arms to her hair as you go by; a feeling when you wake up on a fine morning that you’d like a little respect paid to you today, as if it were as easy to order as a second cup of coffee; one question too many, idly thrown out over a friendly drink – and the tragedy is on.
The rest is automatic. You don’t need to lift a finger. The machine is in perfect order, it has been oiled ever since time began, and it runs without friction. Death, treason and sorrow are on the march; and they move in the wake of storm, of tears, of stillness. Every kind of stillness. The hush when the executioner’s axe goes up at the end of the last act. The unbreathable silence when, at the beginning of the play, the lovers, their hearts bared, their bodies naked, stand for the first time face to face in the darkened room, afraid to stir. The silence inside you when the roaring crowd acclaims the winner – so that you think of a film without a soundtrack, mouths agape and no sound coming out of them, a clamour that is no more than a picture; and you, the victor, already vanquished, alone in the desert of your silence. That is tragedy.
Tragedy is clean. It is restful, it is flawless. It has nothing to do with melodrama – with wicked villains, persecuted maidens, avengers, sudden revelations and eleventh hour repentances. Death, in a melodrama is really horrible because it is never inevitable. The dear old father might so easily have been saved; the honest young man might so easily have brought in the police five minutes earlier.
In a tragedy, nothing is in doubt and everybody’s destiny is known. That makes for tranquility. There is a sort of fellow-feeling among the characters in a tragedy: he who kills is as innocent as he who gets killed: it’s all a matter of what part you are playing. Tragedy is restful; and the reason is that hoe, that foul deceitful thing, has no part in it. There isn’t any hope. You’re trapped. The whole sky has fallen on you, and all you can do about it is to shout. Don’t mistake me: I said “shout”: I did not say groan, whimper, complain. That, you cannot do. But you can shout aloud; you can get all those things said that you never thought you’d be able to say – or even knew you had it in you to say. And you don’t say these things because it will do you any good to say them: you know better than that. You say them for their own sake; you say them because you learn a lot from them.
In melodrama, you argue and struggle in the hope of escape. That is vulgar; it’s practical. But in tragedy, where there is no temptation to try to escape, argument is gratuitous: it’s kingly.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

All of us live, breathe, eat, work- all with the same hope; hope for a better tomorrow. We want to grab all the opportunities, make all the money, get all the fame. Everyone wants a piece of the cake. But then at the end of the day, is that what we really want? We should react and reach out to the actual calling within us. The real dream, the real purpose for which we are all here. Now don get me wrong. I’m not bein spiritual. If you have climbed the highest mountain, earned the last dollar, have been to the moon and back, but you still don feel quite right inside, its just not worth it. Just because half the world (or maybe even more) wants the same things from life, its okay if you don want to be in the spotlight. Some people, if left alone, would be really happy being mediocre. What do celebrities do anyway? Work hard all their life to be famous and then wear dark glasses to avoid being recognized! Life is to be lived and enjoyed. Do what you want with it. If you want to be the richest man in the world, then go ahead and work towards your dream with perseverance and confidence. But then, if you really just want to lie back and take life as it comes, that’s okay too. Wait for the right calling in your life to happen. Be sure of what you do. Whatever it is.

Sunday, May 21, 2006

everyone is a hero

they talk a lot about heroes these days. make them idols, give them titles, name streets, perfumes, houses, pets and even children after them. they write pages and punchlines about a hero's life. everybody loves a hero. so who is a hero anyway? someone who can do things that no one else can? someone who can speak, dance or sing well? someone who hails from a popular family? why is it that we are able to celebrate the lives of those heroes whom we have'nt met or known in person, but fail to recogonize the hero inside each and everyone of us? there are heroes who rise to the occasion and then quietly slip away. a man who jumps into a building on fire to save an eight year old, a man who satnds up against the odds in his life, a man who lives his life the way he wants to withouit worrying about pleasing others; they are all heroes. in most movies and plays its always the hero who says the best dialouge, its he who fights for what is right, its the hero who is all powerful and intelligent. its always the hero whom we all like to relate with. but we must learn to appreciate the everyday heroes like you and me. you dont always have to climb the highest mountain or win the toughest election or write the best book to be a hero. any man who lives his life with a purpopse and brings out the best in him is a hero. we all are.

Living life the way I want to. Without thinking about anything else. To get up and dance without being bothered about what others are going to think; to eat all the chocolates that I want to without worrying about the extra layer of flesh adding on to my stomach; to be able to hear the incredible noise that perfect silence makes; to be able to shout when I want to instead of bringing out a forced whisper; to have the courage to cry when I feel broken instead of putting on a fake brave face; to be able to get wet in the rain and roll in the sand without worrying about the grass stains on my skirt; to laugh with complete abandon; to be able to use all that fine silver that I have been saving up for the ideal occasion failing to realize that every moment in life is special; to let my heart speak when it wants to; to love and be loved for no reason, but love itself; to have worked hard all my life and then when everything that I had so carefully built over the years shatter right in front of my eyes , to still have the strength to pick up the broken pieces and start all over again in all humility; to believe in God and feel Him within me; to live, breathe and sleep every night with no burdens of yesterday, but with new hope for tomorrow; to grow old gracefully and to be proud of my greys; and when death comes and knocks at the door, to be able to slip away with no regrets, leaving a mark for what I have been, that is how I want to live .

Who reads this stuff, anyway?