The Art Of Letting Go

I was going through one of the Ted talks videos which give you an insight into other people's experiences and messages to make changes in our own for a better life....

I always felt that it was easier to give a Ted talk than implement it..... But it's not so.... You could give a talk only when you experience something in your own life which could be an eye opener to you to bring the necessary changes in your life. 

We have always heard that change is the only permanent thing.... But ironically it's the only thing you have to consistently do to make yourself adapt to situations which confront you...

I realised that the word CHANGE is actually meant to let go...let go of our insecurities and comfort zones and trust the universe to do its course without our interference in its workings 

So does that mean we don't exercise our free will.... NO..... Free will is the ability to adapt to situations which presents itself...It does not mean making choices according to our preferences....

 If it's a disease situation accept it first, then find the way to find a solution to cure it.... If it's a relationship problem first accept it and then see what best you could do to help it become better.... If it's a financial crisis.. 

 Accept the situation, question yourself why this situation arose , work on solving it....

 

These choices are not free will.... Accepting your situation and making changes in your attitude, response and workings are the only free will decisions that exist. 

If we are able to let go of questioning the why's of happenings i believe we will be able to live our beautiful small span of life in a dignified, authentic way...

Ego, pride, beliefs, wanting to control are all the big free wills we have.... expensive and not free😂😂.... Let go of these... 😀

SILENCE

The soul screams.... "I want silence" ....... I ask, "What's that?"

She says, "Don't talk"

I, "Are u mad?" 

She is mute..... I start asking, questioning, demanding, reprimanding.... Shhhhh.... Shhhhh.... She waves me off.... Quiet... Be still...

This seems new to me..... What would I do.... I am anxious.... Not think... Not ponder, not analyze..... Noooo.... I can't let her out of hand......

I vehemently disrupt her and get miffed with her.... For not giving me her full attention..... I.....wait....try again.... She is off.... In bliss..... Who am I? .... I am her mind...

She has the look of pure innocence... Playing like the soft waves which,, soundlessly dash against the shore..... That look... The feel which I have never seen in her before....

She is in love.... With silence..... Melting into the bliss of its purpose where I don't exist....

I feel alone, I'm not used to this.... I try to draw her attention and realize it's futile...... Think it's better to be with her for a moment watching her......

I enter in the love affair and.........

I don't exist...... I.... She..... Silence, are one where each of us are just there.......

Ecstasy pure love, freedom......... 

"Just BE." 

Resting

The aroma of freshly prepared Mutter Paneer was filling every nook and corner of my tiny little kitchen,  and I assumed to the living room too, because there was my younger one screaming, ‘”Mom, that smells great, can we start lunch?”

To that I rolled my eyes, since an hour had not passed since his last meal.  I shouted back, “It needs to rest for some time, so please wait”.   I noticed amused responses from my husband and my elder son, as to what gibberish I was talking. “What?? It needs to rest?  What needs to rest?”

I retorted, “The flavors will get enhanced and the dish would taste better and different if we give it some time to rest “.  I was sure all cookery bloggers would agree with me, since I found that resting time of the dish is very important in cooking.   My team at home asked me if I was watching any cookery shows recently for deducing this aspect of cooking, to which I replied a strong affirmative “NO”, and that this I learnt through firsthand experience.

I have realized that the word RESTING is a very important and a significant verb, in our daily life, may it be resting after a hard day’s work for the body to recuperate, or differences in relationships, or our professional and creative zones.

Even nature has also has its own way of resting. When you see a flower blooming, it takes its own time to reveal its beauty, Mother Nature has always presented herself lazily, happily and lovingly.

Somehow time has its own significance in the agenda of life. We usually bless the souls of our departed loved ones to rest in peace, but we do not realize that to have a final peaceful resting destination it is very important to be at peace and have clarity in our actions in our  daily grind.

Being a very reactive person myself, this clarity of resting  came to me by mundane tasks like cooking, which bring home the fact that even simple chores we do in our day to day life have a great importance in the development of our personality.

 We often indulge in practices like meditation to bring our restless minds to rest, but it is seldom realized that many a times in this practice, we force ourselves to rest. Resting should be effortless, just like water, which does not need the effort to flow. That’s its nature. To be at rest, is to be in Zen.

I think I have rested enough, and it is now time to serve my Mutter Paneer. “Come on boys, time to eat, enough resting!”

Reopening

Today, Mehra uncle’s two grandchildren were getting ready to board their school bus to attend their first day at school. Two adorable darlings, the kind that anyone would want to squeeze and cuddle over, the picture was so endearing…..   

They looked like two new cute army recruits ready in neatly starched colourful uniforms, ready to face the new frontier (THE SCHOOL) which seemed to be on the other side of their border called HOME.The satchels they were carrying on their small but straight backs seemed loaded with their best friend - TIFFIN BOXES - what they thought was the only thing worthwhile in this whole training. Yes, what else was more important than finishing their boxes, which radiated the aroma of freshly cooked aloo tikkis by the general (the MOTHER).Little did the two freshers know that enemies would take free rides on their backs in the years to come, in the form of textbooks, journals, notebooks, etc.

It was innocence at its first, shimmering like clear blue water, unrippled and unpolluted by knowledge, so blissfully unaware of the perils that lay ahead in the march.  But in the present, they portrayed the simple love of wanting to face the real thing called the world in all their eagerness.

The elder of the two was feeling more excited since he was a veteran by a year  and the younger looked more doubtful at leaving his mom's hand, the only connection to security and sanity.The general was, as usual, giving out orders to the two recruits: do’s and don’ts , which brought a sign of fear on the little ones face. He couldn't fathom what all this fuss was about, for he was told he was only supposed to finish his tikki (which he undoubtedly would) and play.  He remembered his best friend Tina’s advice, “Grownups always talk serious stuff, but that is not supposed to be for us…” Tina’s warning made him hide his fears with a brave smile.

Mehra uncle, his wife, his son, his whole family were waving out goodbyes to the brave toddlers in such a way that a passer by was confused as to whether they were sending their kids to U.S. for further studies or to kindergarten from where they would be back in a couple of hours.The bus arrives, and there is the whole lot of new recruits pushing their faces out of the windows curious to greet the new arrivals, so sweet was their curiosity shown on their little faces, as to who their comrades at this game would be.

The whole thing had an air of amusement to it, that it felt that this moment which lasted not more than ten minutes was just the little pleasure we all would want to savour in our daily grind.

There is a Mehra in each one of us, having gone through this same journey, but somewhere along the way forgetting to cherish these moments…moments that lose their way in the maze of life.

Chai Time

4.30 pm, and it was time for my chai, as I sat at my favourite spot on my bed near the window. I peeped out and there she was, so pretty, so young and full of life, waiting to bloom to her fullest, shaking merrily the rain drops off herself.

She was so beautiful in all her innocence, totally oblivious of her natural beauty that she was shimmering throughout the branch. She was the pretty Gulmohar trying to bloom to her fullest by shaking the drops on her.
She was just one little beautiful life happening in the grander picture of the vibrantly alive tree outside my window. Gulmohar blossoms  cannot be smelt, because they are to be seen, the colors so vibrant and their bursting petals filling the whole tree and the street, making us realize that beauty need not shout, it can quietly blow us away by its mere presence.

Sudden trembling of the thimble branches brought me out of my reverie. Uncle Squirrel was back with his busy doings. Every time I watch him, I am amazed by his energy to climb every branch, moving ever so lithely and merrily that it is so difficult to give him an age.
Actually I don't think birds and squirrels age, they just put us to shame by their living this beautiful life with so much energy and enthusiasm. Ah!! but it seems so they are blessed with a higher intelligence to live life simply, a sort of zen, which makes it so much easier for them...

Coming back to Uncle Squirrel, he seems to be collecting all the happenings of our Gulmohar society in the pretext of hunting nuts. He has a few friends who busily squeak away with each other, making me wonder what the new excitement was all about... was it the new neighbor sparrow giving birth, or was it the tiff between the newly wed  mynahs in topmost branch..... anyway i had to put a stop to my pondering because gossips seemed to be my favorite pastime and  here i was engaging in platonic gossip with the uncle squirrel...

The chirping of the sparrows, the screeching of the parrots amused me as to how amicably all of them lived in the same abode, each having their own space and lifestyle...
They all had their own language which was music to the ears and were all life in its fullest beauty. The other side of beauty were the crows who (ironically are the wisest), seldom bothered about their voice or looks, assuming they had their authority in the abode. The animal kingdom too had its politicians and pageants...

Oh , my tea seems to have finished, but these sweet ponderings seem to have more than made up for the lack of sugar.