Boundlessness of love

Boundlessness of love…… sometimes I sit and think of what could have been and what is not there, and then I look at the sky think of its expansiveness and realize that to truly love someone unconditionally, you need to be expansive as the sky if not more. What matters is the current moment, and the depth of love you feel every moment, whether the person is there with you or not.

That priceless moment when the person is there with you, the togetherness of the spirit lights up your eyes, both your auras merge into one and you are complete. Does it matter whether you have your arms around each other or you are smiling at each other or there is an outward show of affection, you know you are vibrating as one, because the oneness of vibrations pervade your soul and you are complete.

In moments of celebrations, in the world’s definations sometimes you are dancing alongside your partner, sometimes not, but when there is oneness of spirit, even when you are dancing alone, you are with him/her, because he/she is in you. You are he/she and he/she is you. Unity in its divine best.

You close your eyes, submerge in that dance and the materialistic world fades away, you are one with your beloved, your mutual auras enveloping the other in a soulful union. Peace … contentment.. you have finally come home.

The magical part of this oneness is that it expands into several bodies at the same time. You are no longer able to distinguish between your self and the presence of your spirit in others as well. When he embraces the other you feel it is you he is embracing, when you embrace the other you feel it is he you are embracing. Everything becomes so flowing and beautiful. The worldly boundaries fade away and divine joy flows in -- the union of the atma with the Paramatma, Radha with Krishna, the merging of the river with the sea.

My little angel

There was always this wonderful connection with M – our own angel right from the time she was in V’s womb. Even then I used to talk to her, love her during the seminars.

The day before she was born we had gone to give V a baby shower. It was so special. She read out a writing by Rabindra Nath tagore and how she was inspired by it. We were discussing baby names. The next day we got the news of her birth.

We went to see her and she was so beautiful, she recognized our voices. V’s make over last year was M in her arms, angels give you brilliant makeover, however you are. I realized that when I was in Muktangan. Well… My angels will develop wings and fly up in the sky one day and I wish them a lot of love.

Well 6 months into the second year, and I am still amazed to see how M is growing, she is becoming radiant each day, and how she supports her mother to participate in the process. She participates with full gutso. V dresses her up like a dream.
Last month’s weekend it was her wow and baby which had all of us eating out of her hands. When she stretches out her arms or smiles with her buck teeth, my heart flips with love. A gush of motherly love spills over, and my hand automatically rises to give her blessings.

This time it was so special. She had started crawling, and I too started crawling with her. There was so much joy in that simple act of innocence, no pretense, no inhibitions. I was following her, she was enjoying it. She was all around me , playing, on top of me, smiling at me. When she hugged P, it was like watching two angels in complete harmony and love with each other. It was so beautiful. I prayed for both of them, both their health and long lives full of healing and magic.
Then the ultimate act of blessing was when I found her guiding her thoughts with her innocent presence when I was writing my prayer. She was surrounding me with love, joy, innocence and a lot of blessings. Strangely I was never distracted, I was so much at peace. Her gibberish was so endearing that I would only gaze in wonder at her.


I found the child in me, whom I had shackled for a long time and with it came love – gushing out.

How flat is my feet

When I was very young my uncle lovingly called me a platypus... I used to stare at him with my mouth popped open, thinking with my child logic whether he has royally lost his marbles. Little did I realise that he was paying tribute to my flat foot.

Now let me clarify for my friends for whom the world has always been round from all angles... Flat foot is a foot without that arch... A foot which has a mind of its own.. a rebel amongst feet.. which leaves hilarious anecdotes in its wake.

Since then I have learned to have a grudging tolerance for the platypus and the duck and the baby elephant, because you see I have been bountifully gifted with physical resemblance to all...

Well, coming back to my flat foot... I realised that I have been blessed with an excellent pair when I was in class XII (better late than never!!). Mind you I was a tomboy right from my childhood and teamed with a rebellious streak, it was not surprising that I always landed in trouble especially with my parents. Well here I was with my partner in crime (our landlady’s daughter) returning home from a Kabbadi match. Enroute to the bathroom, our muddy feet had left trail of designs on the floor in the hall. Ah. ‘Footprints in the sand’ I quipped. ‘But they are so different’ my friend said. As if it was not enough she added ‘Yours looks like a duck’. ‘Ah. You have flat feet’, she informed me, pleased to score one on me. ‘What the bloody hell is a flat feet ??’, I had royally lost it then ( I’m known for my wonderful trait for allowing my temper to run wild). Was it a disability? my mind wondered. My uncle intervened and explained. I was a bit appeased when he said that it was a hereditary trait that I have inherited from my father. My inheritance... the saga is a colorful one, which I shall take up some other day.

Realisation brings enlightment and joy...Friends I wanted to share some of the funniest anecdotes ... courtesy my flat foot.

Stumbling, falling down, tripping over invisible objects are all state of art manifestations of a flat feet, not to forget gaping holes in your almost new footwear.

I am a true foodie and the food which I take, along with the air and water confluence very well with my body’s digestive mechanism and so I become endowed with lovable deposition of fat on my torso. There was never any love lost between my brother and myself, but my generous proportions being compared to a baby elephant in shorts.... hmmm.... Heavy body mass is deadly if you have flat feet.. especially if over the years your body starts resembling like humpty dumpty walking on sticks...

Anyways..

Anecdote 1 -> It was the last day of my first semester in college. I had a lecture at 9.30 am and I had to change 2 buses. As I alighted..rather tried to alight.. (you see I have always failed to alight graciously from anything, because as i told you my feet have a mind of their own and they are ever conniving with my gigantic mass to embarrass me) I stumbled down from the stairs of the bus.. I had the bus handle in my hand and the next moment I saw myself heading straight for the pavement face down. I desperately tried to hold onto something, and the first thing which came to my sight was 2 poles. I grabbed onto them and straightened myself, only to realize that I have landed straight from the pan to the fire. What I mistook as poles in my rush were in reality the legs of a dhoti clad Bengali and he was livid. His face said it all.... loose chit of a girl, with no senses...and I did not stop for more, I was hurrying in the opposite direction, my face gone red as a beetroot. Wait friends my agonies were not over. just when I thought I had escaped I stumbled again flat on the tram track..( This was kolkata and trams still ply on the road). My language had always been colourful, thanks to my unerring ear for the slings and the male company I kept. That day it surpassed my previous rend rations.
When I tried to gain a sympathetic ear from my friends they were in splits.. yaah..thats what friends are for.

Anecdote 2 -> This can be attributed more to my platypus like walk... I would like to call it a flip flop gait, which I have painstakingly perfected and can give its originator a run or his money. I was on my way to Hariprasad ji’s concert. I had royally fibbed at office, and basking in my ability to tell a white lie, I was rushing to the bus stop. Believe me when I tell you.. There was no a stone or barrier in sight. The pavement.. Hardly 2 inches from the ground and me in my heels... yes you have guessed it right.. the culprit conniving with my flat feet this time were my 2.5 inches heels. Suddenly my knee crumbled and I fell onto the road and there was this excruciating pain and blood oozing out. People rushed to help.. or maybe to just watch the fun... because amongst the crowd of people who throng to your side during your distress, 90% are there to watch the fun, and a fallen lady whether she has fallen from the pavement or otherwise, clad in a sari somehow tickles their funny bone.. or can I call it their sadist bone. Even through that haze of pain, what was funny how a man, in the garb of a good Samaritan was inching his way slowly towards ... hmm .He was almost there when, I summoned up my strength and scrambled on all fours to my feet. What a feast for the eyes, my gigantic proportions must have been then.. but it was better than being touched by a lech. Anyways I reached my office which was on the 7th Floor and almost fainted in the Front office with pain. By then my knee had swollen up. My very good friend Abarna and Nandita helped me to the back office.. and then it was a series of happenings till the doctor gleefully pronounced that I have a torn ligament. Only I can achieve such a feat.
Six years has passed since then, and I have learned to love my flat feet and as all love stories go, if you sweet talk to your loved ones they behave according to your wishes. My feet are no exception. I take good care of them every night.....In fact; they stand me in good stead whenever I want to stamp on an offender’s foot.

Now I shall tell you about the holes which feature in almost all my footwear because of my gait. I have to change my footwear every 3 months. Big brands do not matter to my feet. all have similar fate at the hands... or should I say the legs of my flat feet. I sometimes think I should be hired my the big brands to test the durability of their shoes..

What is consoling is that there are many like me with surprising similar anecdotes to their name. One day we shall compare notes.

Yippee!!!!! Long live my flat feet

BAL ANAND – A home away from home

21st April 2007 dawned bright and Sunny. I had a leap in my step as I contemplated the day ahead. Kids have always been a source of immense joy to me and a day spent in the lap of their innocence made me send a note of Silent Thanks to Mastek Foundation and Richa Sood (face of IVolunteer) to make it happen.

I picked up Swapnil enroute to Vashi Station. We joined forces with Shama and Soumyashri at Chembur Station and armed with the directions Sunder had given us, finally reached BAL ANAND at Ghatla village after a series of funny twists and turns in wrong directions. Looking at the small nondescript 4 storied building standing before us, no body would have been able to guess what a powerhouse of love waited behind its doors, ready to enfold us. Rahul, Sunder and Rajesh joined us there with Richa. After a round of introduction with some members of the Trustee, especially the Founder Member Sulochana Devi, we were taken to the 2nd floor to meet the physically challenged kids. They were so delighted to see us and what a warm welcome we got from them, that too when they were meeting us for the first time. Makes you wonder do we really value the loved ones we are fortunate to have? How often do we have a warm smile for them? Why do we forget life is too short, and we all are such a storehouse of love? We got introduced to them, and some of their antics pulled at your heart strings. The camaraderie they shared with their house mother was apparent and each of them wanted to show off their achievements. Some of them had won accolades and laurels in different competition they had participated in. “If you have the will you can”. Not all of them get adopted and the oldest child is 25 years old. After all how many couples look beyond the physical disability at the soul. To us being normal often is often an excuse to get away with disabled minds.

After promising them to return again we went to the 3rd floor where the normal kids were being housed. Each different age groups had a different room to themselves with individual trained nurses to attend to their needs. The tiny tots ranging from 3 months to 1 year made you want to cuddle up to them and give them all the comfort they deserve. They deserve a decent family to call their own, with all the love which we all get. Some of them opened their arms to you waiting to be picked up. With eyes bleary from tears I watched my other colleagues’ cotton up to them and love them in each one’s own way. So what if we work in a corporate jungle, where emotions are always at loggerheads with materialistic gains, power; here there was unadulterated love waiting to be shared in all its benevolent power.

Some of the sisters also related the tragedies behind some cases. Swapnil was one year old and such a charming kid, always bursting into smiles; but fate has dealt a very mortal blow on him. He had been found in a garbage dump, left to the mercies of the element and animals, with half of his right leg from the knee downwards bitten off by a dog …. “Cruelty in its ugliest”. Makes you often wonder about the divinity of parenthood

We chatted with the children who were attending school. Some of them willingly climbed on to your laps showing off proudly their homework and what they have learnt. Then it was time for their lunch. What makes BAL ANAND so different from other adoption homes is the love the children get here and the hygienic conditions maintained, be it food or the way they are looked after. This loving care becomes apparent when those children willingly wanting to share food with us. God bless these souls.

We all bid them farewell, promising to come the next month. A new chapter in our lives had been unveiled which undoubtedly would leave us and our surroundings enriched.

I sincerely hope many Mastekeers would come forward, as often a healing touch can work wonders for a soul.

You fill up my senses….,

Whenever I listen to this song, it seems yesterday once more singing along with that special someone. Sometimes it is very difficult to let go of your past, especially memories of good friends who for some reason no longer feature in your life. The line though clichéd is very “TRUE”. You do not forget your first love. It’s only a few lucky ones, who by God’s grace get to build their life with their first love. I am not among those. Goblin (That’s his nickname) came to my life when I was in college. There were fireworks (not the check him out man kind) right from the beginning. In fact if I had accomplished my heart’s desire to throttle him then, maybe I would have been saved these heartbreaks…. Wishful thinking..

In an empty classroom where we had our English classes, this sprightly, bubbly bunch of college guys decided to break ice by discussing the most controversial female of Indian Epic – Draupadi… A firebrand in my yester years, when I used to ride high on the flagship of my youth, I revered Draupadi for her strong convictions and courage. Man that he was, he was very eager to pinpoint the cause and effect of the famous Vastraharana Saga, and lo and behold I suddenly found my heroine the brunt of their jokes. I saw red and was quick to defend her with many a supporting evidences from history’s own pages. Mind you even then I was an avid reader… maybe something might have foretold me from my childhood, that during the years of loneliness to come which would shroud me in its folds, books would often be the only companion to make the sleepless nights tolerable. Anyways, my legacy of humour which I have inherited from my family, soon surfaced, and we all were in splits over that incident. We all became instant friends. And what a mixed group it was… Political Science and History vied for place with Physics, Chemistry and romancing with English was our link.

From then on we were an inseparable group... 10 of us.. SG, SC, NC, SSM, RG, AA, SD, SS, RG and myself. Those get-togethers were paradise, but little was I to know then that there was a serpent in that paradise… But then as Dr Brian Weiss says, ” we are so surrounded with noise all around us, we pay little heed to our basic instincts, the voice from our soul, which often makes us aware of evil spirits.”

The group used to meet often at SC's place, which was near to my college. His parents, especially his mother were darlings. We landed up during odd hours with our multitude of demands for food and Kakima (Auntie) would willingly feed those hungry stomachs. And how hungry we used to be…. And how often.. It seemed each of our stomachs was this huge well which had some amazing absorbents and the food used to disappear in seconds… I have been blessed, or would I say over zealously gifted with this genetic quality of blotting even on air… and SG, SC, SSM – the 3 musketeers as they were called would hog like pigs.. (Lovingly addressed by our group) and not put on an ounce of fat. B’days were celebrated in style often in our homes, or in some local Restaurants ( Shiraz, Amenia) and even Telbhaja stall at Surya Sen Street junction. I still remember my cry of distress one afternoon at my house when even after 12 luchis (Puris), the group of 6monsters ( I no longer liked them that day) demanded for more. My darling mother scolded me … “tui athithider orokom kore bolishna kabar niye “(Do not shout at guests due to their appetite), but frying hundred puris , not to mention preparing them was no mean feat… I obviously was in the kitchen helping my mother. But looking back, that was one of the funniest b’day I have had till date. I felt loved, wanted by my friends. We then had a jalsa (a gathering where people sang recited and generally demonstrated their artistic inclinations). My friends liked my mother a lot and she too joined with her very talented voice. Such gatherings happened many a times after that, both at my place, at SC and NC's place. These two lovebirds had no inkling then that they would become partners for life… The few lucky ones I mentioned earlier.

Well to come back to my love for SG, it had starting growing its roots in my tender heart. Mind you I was a very normal teenager where my love quotient goes. I have had my series of crushes and infatuations. My close friends used to call it the ever fluctuating curve and I was an open book. But this was the real thing, kept very close to my heart and not shared with anybody or that’s what I thought. Fate has a habit of making a yoyo out of your life.. Some might say… fate is what you make out of your life. But I have always been a strong believer of destiny, and I had somehow foolishly believed Goblin was my destiny.

This was of course not to be. … My truth was glaringly brought to his notice as a result of a series of incidents. Even then I had told him, let it be.. So what if you do not feel the same about me, I am quite OK with you loving me only as a friend. You see I was naïve; I had not accounted for those devilish streaks which makes a seemingly good friend pour his venom into an otherwise good relationship. Misunderstandings piled high between us, and one fine morning when he refused to converse with me further, I cried my heart out.. Why me always God. ? . I questioned. I tried my best but the silence would not break and somehow as I always do I struggled with my pain alone, well almost .. SM and DD were there as always, but it is not possible for anyone to truly share your pain.

The days turned into 1 and a half year and we met again at SSM's wedding. I suppose even though I am matured in a lot many ways, when it comes to love I am quite naïve. Why else would I have believed that meeting him would not tear my wounds open? It did. When I looked into his eyes across a sea of people I again felt that pull. Maybe he is the soul mate across time which Dr. Brian Weiss refers in his book “Love is the only thing”, but had I failed to recognize it then. I had always wanted to behave as a matured adult in front of him, but the childlike tendency in me craving for attention again made me put my foot in my mouth on several occasions. We again fought over a piece of fish; I can afford to laugh over it now. I again saw that flash of dislike in his eyes, and I still could not summon up the courage to go up to him and make amends. Funny isn’t it ?? Me afraid, and I was called the Jhansi Ki Rani in college. A strange twist of fate which could have been a plot for a novel.

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then. Nobody after that really measured upto him. It seems I am eternally destined to wait for him. 2 years back I came to know he has a family of his own now. I wish him well.

I know I should get on with my life and let go, but then “You fill up senses” is my favourite song and even in a crowd I feel his presence whenever I listen to that song. I am lovingly told by my friend I am crazy..

But I am proud of the fact that I have loved n lost, than to not have loved at all.