Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Siddhartha

This post has been shifted to my blog
http://modernmysticmusings.blogspot.com/

Monday, August 27, 2007

About the story...

I invite all of you to contribute towards the story, its chapters, its end ...

Still, I believe a story always continues. There is never a final ending in creation.
Every thing goes on...may be moves a bit linear ...a bit circular..a bit spiral....May be towards final perfection.

Hope one day we will have courage to introspect and point in what parts and in what ways we all carry the bird and the hawk and the snake and that hand with a cage.......
and may be we will have strength to do something about it.

And I further hope that it will help the bird to survive and live a whole life....

love to all!

A story continues...

I forgot completely about that singing bird from the neighbouring tree...and the hand that captured her.
That hand was related to a pair of eyes and ears. They loved the colours of the bird and the sound of the chirping. They wanted it to be with them, when they go back to their own jungle of concrete,........ after a short time in the woods.

They captured the bird, took her home, got a cage made , kept the bird there, gave all the food and water ...believed they have loved the bird and it will heal the bird and forget about the jungle and the sky and all the hawks and snakes lying there to attack and live and sing to them.

The bird stopped singing first ..

then one day............................

A story continues...

How about snake?
He was lying low. Generally sleeping after having a heavy meal...
which was not every day!

He had a shining skin and he would often change it.
He liked the celebration around and loved the place and the greenery and the tree and even the birds on them. Every thing seemed good and right.
After all if these birds and other small creatures are not around how will he survive? God has made them for his food- was his firm belief!
He also would talk about 'he' being the favourite of so many Gods!

Once in a while he would think (he too had his idisyncratic beliefs ...his being a 'thinker' was the foremost) that oh..the birds too have a right to live.
May be live as long as he is not feeling hungry.

He would like to hear them sing, and flutter around. Some days he would hear them chatter and would enjoy those stories of far off places where he could never possibly go.

But one day.........

A story continues...

..lets talk about the hawk!
He was one of the birds.....and wanted to believe he is just like that little bird! Infact he believed, there is no difference and no cause for the little bird to fear him.
Sometimes he would be angry on all the bird-mothers of the world for instilling such fears in their little birds.
He just wanted to be with them, fly with them and play with them.

Well, some times... he will kill one of them, when he doesn't have anything better to do, or if he had a bad day!
but it happened only once in a few months or may be in an year.

Birds are supposed to have a short life and shorter memory. Often he would himself forget when he did what, and would wonder how those little birds remember and carry on the stories of horror about his grandfather and his father and him...

One day...

A story...

there was a little bird, like any other bird,...too delicate!
You might feel like, just reaching out and wishing, she would hop on your hands...
She was just learning to fly... There was a courage that would forever make her eyes look at the sky with dreams of unlimited possibilities...Sky meant a gift of life.. not a dark place full of dangers, of all the crows and hawks flying.
Mother told her about the hawks!

Mother also told about snakes lying low and waiting for a moment of dreamy sleep, to slither up on the branches and reach their nest. Mother would often shiver with fear thinking about her small little bird ...child!
But our bird...sitting on the branch, she would look down with curiosity in her eyes, admiring every thing down there, the grasses, the leaves, the dancing grasshopper and waiting to see that dark snake! Thinking where he would be at this moment!

Mother somedays told her about another bird on another tree, who had a beautiful singing voice, ...captured by a hand of those who walk erect and lived in cities.
Nobody heard the singing voice ever again!

But for the child...our little bird every thing was new, she was just learning every thing and was eager to learn every thing on her own!
She had a heart like any other bird. Simple!
There never was a need in their world, to be anything else.

But one day................

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Meaning in life

This post has been shifted to my blog
http://modernmysticmusings.blogspot.com/