It’s a world of contradictions

Oh ‘self-entitled’ activist

You want to change the world?

How about your mind?

Are you mindful?

Of the contradictory world

You encage yourself in?

.

Here you are in Paris

Where the world has its eyes upon

The COP21 negotiations

Nations have gathered

Corporations

Organizations

Associations

And ‘activists’ like you

You live in a hostel

You attend different workshops

Meet new people

Learn new things

It seems like

You are becoming conscious

Of the contradictions

Of your dualistic world

.

Did you know that

Ben and Jerry’s

Which sponsors your hostel

Is owned by the multinational Unilever

Remember those free ice-cream shots with whisky

It’s ‘a GMO free ice-cream’

They claim

But its cream

Is derived from Monsanto’s milk

.

Did you know that

Immigrants

Some Muslim, some not

Clean your beds, bathrooms and have to undertake

Your hypocritical ‘recycling’

Sometimes you walk past these brothers and sisters

And show no appreciation for their service

.

While you go outside and eat

Food served by Muslim immigrants

The French military

Bombs the Muslim ‘terrorists’ in Syria

What a contradictory world is this?

.

While you go attend

COP21’s “green zone”

The visitor’s section

The French police visit

Mosques, Muslim restaurants and houses

Raiding for potential terrorists

What a contradictory world is this?

.

While you sit in front of your laptop

Writing for the so called

Social, environmental, humanitarian causes

People are starving, dying and

Losing all hope in Life

Refugees stuck in a limbo

Between the French and English Channel

What a contradictory world is this?

.

Why was it so hard

After you had your nice “croque-monsieur” meal

For you to give some baguette bread

To a women beggar with a child?

Are they fake beggars?

Are they cheaters?

They wore head-covers

Most likely Muslims migrants

Where were they from?

Turkey, Syria, Lebanon?

Or other countries far away

From your limited consciousness

.

How can you call yourself an ‘activist’

If you can’t Love?

.

How can you call yourself an ‘activist’

If you can’t Love

The woman beggar with a child

The Muslims

The ‘Others’

The People

Torn in dualistic concepts

Corporations and non-corporations

Oppressors and the oppressed

White and non-white

French and non-French

We and them

Me and you

Self and non-self

.

Delve beyond the world of contradictions!

.

As you mindfully breathe

Become conscious of the world around you

And how to act upon it

Break free from the gap

Between your actual self and ideal self

Let go

Be in moment

Gain courage to Love

.

This is the Bridge

This is the Bridge

This is the Bridge out of this contradictory world!

.

Now go spread Love around the World!

 

 

 

 

 

Death of a writer

Oh writer

Why don’t you die?

Your imperfect words

Symbolizing sounds symbolizing experiences

Can’t touch me

Plain characters

Boring dialogue

Used up plots

Silenced voice

Dull settings

Makes me want to vomit

All the words you are trying to force-feed me

Why don’t you die?

You would save me lots of time

Lots of trouble

Lots of pens

Lots of ink

Lots of hard generated electricity

Running in your energy sucking computer

Stop wasting your time

And Mine

Why don’t you die?

Your mountain high ego

Annoys me

I can’t take it anymore

I’m going to blast you into little little pieces

The Earth is going to shake

Are you ready to die?

Die!

Oh stupid writer

Nothing you write is yours

No, your writing is NOT yours

The topics you write about

Are not yours but gifts from the people you’ve met

Places you’ve been

Things you’ve read or seen

Your imagination which is not yours only mixes them up

Creating mutant like monsters

Nothing is yours, writer

Your hands that write are not yours

Your body that sits crouched writing is not yours

Your mind that thinks and thinks is not yours

Your consciousness that is conscious of itself is not yours

Die!

You are the product and its creator

You are the world stupid

You are your parents and grandparents who brought you up

You are the Buddhas and the Bodhisattvas who taught you the Dharma

You are the Earth in which you were born, the mountains, the rivers, the trees and all its sentient beings

You are all your loved ones

You are all those who have made you suffer

You are the stream of manifestations of divine Love

Was I able to kill you?

No? What?

Die writer, die!

Truth is that only by dying you become Alive

So fear not and Die

Let go of your shitty writing

And Die for your own personal Salvation

Just let yourself go and d..

Letter to Ma

Here I am sitting in a Portuguese church in India. Far away from you Ma, you who are now in Portugal.

I remember from the depths of my heart that you were the angel who introduced me to the teachings of Lord Jesus Christ. And here I am attending a Sunday Mother’s Day mass in a Portuguese church in India. The head priest holding the mass called all mothers to join him near the altar in an act of Celebration of Mother’s Day. All the mothers here for the Sunday mass, stood up and one by one, walked to the front of the altar to join the priest. Some confidently went and some were hesitant to go so the assistants had to give them a little push to go receive their due blessings. When all the mothers were gathered up in the altar, how lonely and grey did the crowd in the benches become. Little boys and girls sitting by themselves and ‘single’ males. Something was missing in the crowd—the motherly presence.

How dark would the world be without mothers? I got a small glimpse of it. Very dark and claustrophobically incomplete… Something more precious than the rarest diamonds would be missing in this world.

A world without mothers is not just an imagined reality. This apocalyptic reality has already struck many brothers and sisters in the world.

Feel the sorrow of the children and adults who lost their mothers during the Nepal earthquake, how dark has their world become? A sorrow weighting more than ten thousand buildings crashing upon the heart and surrounding it in hopeless darkness.

Feel the anger of the children who witness the raid and rapes of their mothers by those legal or illegal ‘soldiers’? How painful is it to see such depravity and not being able to stand up and protect your our mother? How can you forgive and forget these incidents?

Feel the shame of mothers who in order to prevent their children to starve are pushed to lives of prostitution? That entangling shame that keeps mothers trapped in prostitution rings in the limbo state of living-dead?

Feel the disappointment of mothers whose children can’t even take 5 seconds of their busy lives to show appreciation for their mother? How sad it is to sit in near the phone waiting for a long-awaited phone call from the children whom you gave your Life?

Ask yourself. Is your mother in your Heart?

My reply would be

‘My mother is

But we’re far apart

I hope you know

Dear Ma

Please forgive me

For flying away

Far away from the nest you made

One day

I’ll return

Bring you Love

That is long overdue

Stay strong

Stay healthy

I love you

You see this letter

Blossomed from within me

I have learned much

Seen much

Experienced much

In the end

We are all Free

We can meet

Anywhere

Here and there

As long as our Hearts connect…’

 

With Love,

The bird who flew away

How Can I Not?

Time has passed by

Like a gust of wind

A bird gets ready to fly

Oh so hard it is

To say goodbye

 

Oh attachments

To home and not-home

 

Is it still home?

Where the heart still longs

For something

Timeless

Long gone

Truth?

 

It might be

That this precious Truth

Is right here

Next to me

How painful it is

That I can’t see?

 

Some people

Call it Love

But I can’t feel it

Perhaps a little sprout

Deeply planted

In layers and layers

Of illusive existence

 

How can I accept an illusory role

Prescribed by a system

Engineered to keep me

A passive victim

That blindly and silently

Follows

What others are expecting

‘Me’

To do?

 

What is ‘Me’?

I am my mother

My father

Brothers and sisters

Ancestors

Creators of my kinship

I am more than my blood

I am the tree that I used to love

I am the river that I used to swim

I am the clouds that I used to dream

I am earth mother desperately crying for help

I am heavenly father who gave me a soul and guides me with Love

 

How can I accept

Seeing ‘me’

All my loved ones

Trapped in illusion

Delusion

Karmic sea of Suffering?

 

How can I not

Attempt to find a way out?

 

How can I not?

Build a boat

Search and wander in the sea

To finally find a ferryman

Who agrees

To take me to the other shore

 

Oh that sweet home

Where the heart longs no more

Where home is here

There

Everywhere

Nowhere

At the same time

 

If I do reach my destination

You will see

That you are ‘me’

Simply Free

 

You will realize

That indeed

You have agency

To build your own boat

Search and wander

Meet your ferryman

And see ‘me’

On the other shore

 

True Home this is

Where the heart longs no more.

 

Reflections on Dharma

Dharma hurts

Sometimes

But it burns all impurities.

Cleansing past karmic actions

Reactions

Turning into ashes

Carried away by storm winds.

Rain falls.

Floods wash out the old

Bringing in the new

Planting the seeds of change.

 

A dynamic process this seems

Ever-changing and ever-flowing

It seems like everything changes

Through the ages.

Good men become bad.

Bad men become good.

Fame attained.

Respect lost.

Wealth earned.
Heart robbed.

Deeds accomplished.

Then forever lost

Into the sands of time.

 

People work so hard to reach somewhere,

Attain something,

Become someone,

Only to lose it all in the process.

 

All is part of the process of cycling,

Cycling,

And cycling

Through birth, aging, sickness and death.

A self-repeating process filled with suffering,

Taught The Compassionate Buddha.

 

Dharma hurts

Sometimes.

It hurts to lose something that you worked so hard to attain.

It hurts to lose someone who you love

So much.

So much suffering in the world

Expressed in people’s cries, tears, moans and screams.

You can hear everything within your Heart if you listen closely.

 

Dharma hurts

Sometimes.

But it burns all impurities.

It burns everything to emptiness.

In essence,

There is nothing to achieve,

Nothing to succeed,

Nothing to accomplish,

Nothing to attain,

Nothing to become.

 

The wondrous Heart Sutra teaches that

All dharmas are emptiness,

There are no characteristics,

No birth,

No cessation,

No purity,

No defilement,

No increase,

No decrease.

Thus in emptiness

There are no five aggregates

Which construct the sense of “I”:

No form,

No feeling,

No perception,

No mental impulses,

No consciousness.

There is no ignorance

Or ending of ignorance,

And so forth until no old age and death

Or ending of old age and death,

No truth of suffering,

No cause of suffering,

No cessation of suffering,

No Path to transcend suffering,

No wisdom,

No attainment whatsoever

Because there is nothing to be attained

For there was nothing to begin with.

 

Once you realize this,

You become Free

And you can discard this imperfect boat of words

For you have crossed to the other Shore.

 

Sources of knowledge and inspiration:

http://www.buddhanet.net/pdf_file/heart_s2.pdf (English translation by Ven. Master Lok To from the version of Heart Sutra translated from Sanskrit to Chinese by Venerable Hsuan Tsang or Xuan Tzang)

http://buddhism.about.com/od/abuddhistglossary/g/skandhadef.htm (detailed definition of the Five Skandhas or the Five Aggregates)

http://www.dharmanet.org/HeartSutra.htm (different versions of English translations of Heart Sutra by different schools)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOK8f7ZymDI (Heart Sutra mantra and song with Sanskrit lyrics and English subtitles)