Glimpses of Paris during COP21 (with all its hypocrisies, contradictions and hopes)

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

Freedom of Thought

Freedom of thought

Like a bird

Flying around the world

 

Fearless

Like a phoenix

Burning up impurities to ashes

 

Brave

Like a snow-lion

Hunting high up in the mountains

 

Mighty

Like a tiger

Roaming the dark wilderness

 

Grounded

Like a tortoise

Shelled by the Dharma

 

Flowing

Like a fish

In the pure River of Life

 

Sprouting

Like a bamboo tree

Up into the heavenly Sky

 

Blossoming

Like a lotus

To spread its inner beauty to the world

 

Free

Like the wind

Like the sound

Like the energy of Love

Echoing throughout the Universe

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.

 

Where Are You O Little Bird?

Where is it?

The treasure I search.

The light.

The bird that sings with a sweet voice.

 

I searched for you everywhere,

Here and there,

Up in the mountains,

Down in the valleys,

Into dark forests,

And along mythical rivers.

Where are you o little bird?

 

A long time ago we met

But I forgot and neglected you.

I got busy with worldly concerns.

‘Grown up’ things like

Bodily comfort,

Sensory pleasures,

Material wealth,

And craving for respect and power.

How foolish I am!

 

I forgot about you

So I started blindly searching

For something,

Anything that could refill my broken jug of heart.

For it was slowly leaking,

Emptying itself of Life.

 

I searched for you everywhere,

Here and there,

Up in the mountains,

Down in the valleys,

Into dark forests,

And along mythical rivers.

Where are you o little bird?

 

Disappointed,

I rested my hand into my pocket,

And there I found you.

A sick and neglected

Blue patched golden canary.

I gently held you in my hand,

Fed you,

Cleaned you,

Took care of you,

And gave you all my Love.

 

Soon you became filled with Life

As my Heart became filled with Love.

You started flapping your wings,

Flying around things.

I tried to catch you,

Put you in a little cage.

But I realized that it was impossible to catch your free spirit.

What a worthless task I got myself into!

I let you free o bird!

You come visit me wherever you want.

 

Then you perched,

And started singing your Heart out.

Your sweet voice echoed through the world.

First five people came as audience,

Then ten,

Soon a multitude of people gathered around you.

You sang sweet songs of Love

In different styles and languages.

Bringing people together

To celebrate the inner Divine

That resides within!

 

Allow me to accompany you o little bird!

Let me taste thy Freedom.

Let’s roam the world,

Land wherever our Hearts guide us to,

And sing sweet songs of Love!

Let me liberate myself from worldly chains,

And live free just like You!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

River Song Ganga Amar Ma

My research on people’s relationship to rivers had led me to find this inspiring song about the Ganga and Padma rivers. My sole purpose of this post is to share this lovely song with you. To share.

This is an inspiring song composed by Bhupen Hazarika and sung by Runa Laila. It has deep influences from Bengali and Assamese folk music. Its style is connected to the Bhatiyali genre, which is a type of traditional folk song sung by boatmen in the rivers of Bengal while travelling downstream the river. These songs have a contemplative and mystic component in them. Common topics are nature, love, oneness and people’s connection to rivers. I couldn’t find an English translation of this song yet. Also, I couldn’t translate this song myself because my Bengali is limited. Thus, the best online explanation about the meaning of this song is from another blog called Naman Astitva,

“It is a Bengali folk song of the Bhatiyali genre, often sung by the boatman on trips across the Ganga and the Padma rivers. Its meaning of the words is subtle yet beautiful citing that we are all essentially the same. The best line in this song – we share one sky, one breeze and one breath citing that we have one mother – which is the River Ganges. It continues – one wishes, one love, one set of tears, one set of sorrows etc. ”

excerpt from blog Naman Astitva, http://naman-astitva.blogspot.in/2012/01/ganga-amar-ma.html. This is a great blog you should check it out.