goldenboy

As a dead body,
burning on its pyre..
I wait..
For the last ounce of flesh
to be consumed

For freedom to come
To take me…

No friends, no enemy
No relatives, no beloved
I have only nothingness
That remains of me

Freedom comes, freedom goes
Freedom stays, freedom grows
Freedom given, freedom lost,
freedom chosen, freedom got.

For me freedom would come
With the last taste of fire…As a dead body,
burning on its pyre..
I wait..
For the last ounce of flesh
to be consumed

For freedom to come
To take me…

No friends, no enemy
No relatives, no beloved
I have only nothingness
That remains of me

Freedom comes, freedom goes
Freedom stays, freedom grows
Freedom given, freedom lost,
freedom chosen, freedom got.

For me freedom would come
With the last taste of fire…

“Always follow what your heart says”, advises a grandma to her granddaughter in an Israeli movie that I watched in my early twenties.

That one dialogue defines my life till now. I have always intended to follow my heart, and in that journey I have had flowers of various hues and scents on the way, and blood that trickled when I walked on the thorns too.

And today after so many years, I still find myself yearning to listen and understand what my heart says. Years of conditioning, dogma and my fears form layers of hindrance between what it has to say and what I do listen.

And yesterday, as I allowed my heart to feel what it wanted to feel, after realizing that I had been restraining it from being truly free, free to feel, I was shocked. How could it sing of Love in times like these? I thought. And love with somebody who I hardly know? What kind of love is that? And what logic can explain the “connection” that seems to connect me to the stranger? No, no; that cannot be love. The Heart when left to its own nature, free, can be a Whore!

Hafez, in one of his poems, describes how Allah likes to turn his devotee inside out, pushing him/her to the extremes to test him/her, laughing at the confusion and disillusionment that besets His lover on the Path.

Allah, in Islam is neither attributed with the Masculine or Feminine Gender. As the default way of attributing a gender to a Being without gender is He, the Quran-e-pak describes Allah as He.

And now, Illah wants me to follow my heart while I feel ashamed initially. Shame comes out of conditioning. So if He so desires, let His Love flow freely through my heart for the stranger. Let this heart be a whore. Let it love another creation of the Beloved…as I wish to love the divine beloved Himself.

Allah… unknown are your ways, and unique are your commands! I choose to follow what you speak through my heart. I choose to love the one on whom you have set my heart. Amin.

“This body is Perishable

You are too.”

Those were the two lines that struck me, as I was traveling in the Mumbai Local a few days ago.

And though I might have read those lines in some text on Bhagavad Gita many times earlier, when the thoughts struck me that morning on my way to work; they seemed to come carrying a profound meaning.

Earlier here, I had expressed how I was living burdened with phobia and fears. And that morning, my mind in its usual excursions had pondered what could be the worst that I would have to face if I was attacked again by a group of people or were sacked from where I live.

Perhaps the worst consequence, the root of all our fears is Death- The fear of Extinction. And with the two lines commenting on our mortality in such a simple way, it did strike at the root of my fear that day. And somehow I have lost the fears I had roamed with thence.

-x-x-x-

In my talk with Uma in a recent session, I spoke about how feeble my own life seemed considering that our lives are but just a speck in the vast continuum of time. So much so that tales of people who made their mark in history have been lost in folk tales and myths. Human memory over the generations remembers history no more than a hundred years old.

So why clamor after so trifle a thing as Fame. Could it be the ultimate achievement?

What is the stuff that dreams are made of- Dreams that lead heroes to enter history, to win princesses, princesses to marry kings of great repute?

Also was discussed my hidden love for Death. Somehow all this while I have secretly nurtured the fantasy of finding freedom in the luxury of Death. It seemed to enchant me with its unending serenity and nothingness.

And then came up the dream that had visited me a few nights ago wherein I had rend my own father.

Uma opines that the dream was significant, since I probably associated my problems with my manhood in my subconscious. So there is a new way I need to redefine manhood, being a man.

Also, as for dreams, I need to be Still and go deeper to find what is my stuff for dreams, which would make it a passionate and delightful journey in my quest of the realization of my dreams. Dreams that might not put me in history books, but would serve the purpose of living.

The Vortex that had just once in my life, nine years ago, took me in its fold… this amazing “Person” with profound intelligence that had come and washed me, making me cry and cry, ending up in great outbursts of love within my heart… seemed to linger close. There it was touching me, signaling its presence to me. (Uma opined that it is the Life force)

I somehow couldn’t be open enough for Him to take me. And had to leave with the hope that I will meet Him again soon, living in it perpetually…

There is another Death, that can free me… apart from the Death that should eventually come to all life that is born. The small small deaths of a millions of Sureshs that are not me. The deaths of many of my self-identifications. The deaths of my past.

Tomorrow is the Hindu festival of Holi. It signifies the burning of all that is Wrong and old, and the immortality of the Right (Truth) and the Good.

Tomorrow as I will offer Jaggery in the sacred fire, I will be wishing for those thousand deaths within me, for the emergence of my true Self to take over. Tomorrow I will be making a wish at Holi.

Happy Holi and Rang Panchami to you all…

What shall I write; the ink in my pen is dry. There is nothing to pen down from a heart frozen. What shall I describe, my eyes struggle to see in the darkness. There is nothing I can do, but wait.

The psychic energy that set me working passionately at my new job is running too low now. On days there is hardly any drop of it, for me to get up and get going to work.

These phases are not new to me, and also are not new to me the devastating effect it can have on my life.

 
How does a person survive without food and water? And how can a person survive without the bread for his spirit – the inspiration to live?

I liked what you write in your profile, not more the content but the feeling with which you write.. the desperate attempt at honesty to express who/what you are, the passionate energy that ignites your heart…

I believe our words are more of a cover-up, a dress-up for the wild feelings that set our hearts on fire… a mask for ourself and the world… to let our Mind feel that it knows the secrets of our
Heart. Somewhere in your writing I find that you are closer to knowing this truth, or perhaps already know it..

I am ignited by the same fire as you, and God knows that I have passed through several infernos in a search to know and understand what my heart says..

And everytime you feel you are close to knowing it, you see yourself in front of a wide open ravine… challenging you to take that plunge into the Unknown to know more…

Perhaps that is the destiny of people like us.. who wouldn’t settle for anything lesser than what our hearts asks for, and cannot give up on what our hearts believe in..

Somehow, after a long time, after reading your profile, I felt i could relate to somebody.. identify myself with somebody going through the same journey in life as I

I am 30 too. I am a Personality Development Trainer and an English Teacher at a well-known Institute.

My students are my challenge right now, their pain my pain, their success mine..

I am very passionate about my work. Though my heart does long for a friend, somebody special to love and keep.

I am cheerful when comfortable, nervous when under the scanner. Passionately dedicated to living life to the full.

Would like to hear from you. Call me if you feel like ##########, or sms. Or just use that old nice-way of staying in touch - email! ##########@########.com

Ciao

P.S :It feels strange when this happens, but there are times when after listening to somebody, seeing somebody or after reading somebody (like your profile), there is a pain that ignites your feelings.. that just wouldn’t go away.. that coins words for the fingers to type those few words that would say - “There’s something in you that makes me want to know more about you..

If you allow me to be honest and blunt it is a pain that wants to get hold of you by your hair and fling you across myself, to be able to hold you for a while.. so that my heart beats against you, and my soul is nourished by your presence while love flows incessantly…
Perhaps it is just a mixture of my own feelings, my situation, my desires etc. at this moment and you are not even remotely related to how i feel. Perhaps your email was just a catalyst to provoke these feelings within me..

But still…

How much and how far do we know in what ways does our hearts work? We are all connected by some invisible chords, and who knows when why where and how two people meet and…

Would like to know more about you.

Please do call me. I am hardly online. My phone number is ##########. Or just email me, reply!

Take care

Suresh