Is there a single reality?

There is always a disconnect between perceived reality and 'reality'. But then does something called reality exist? Every fact, every event can be and more often than not is interpreted in numerous (may be infinite) ways by different people. These interpretations may be similar or contradicting but no two individuals process it in the same way. There is nothing right or wrong about any of the interpretations, they are merely different ways to look at the same situation. Thus my reality is different from your reality.. may be. My perceived reality stems from my experiences, identity and my state of mind.

When do these perceived realities start causing trouble? It is when we become intolerant to each others realities. Holding on to our ego and feeding it with suspicion, fear and hatred. Forgetting the humanity in others.

This leads to loss of peace - within and without.

What would be the best way to move forward when contradicting versions of realities come face to face?
How do we move towards a more shared version of the reality? Is it possible - I would like to think so that there is at least a possibility of finding common ground - to prevent conflicts and hatred. It is easier to do this in nascent and developing conflicts for sure.

I think the beginning would be the oft used and misused term - Empathy.

But is it possible to be truly empathetic - Can you be aware of the feeling and perspective of another individual from their perspective without having actually experienced it? Can you 'learn' to be empathetic? What would help you in  moving towards empathy from sympathy/ hatred/ or pity?

I think consciously seeking out opportunities for an open dialogue, shared (or similar) experiences,  access to knowledge and information which contradict your beliefs and understanding could be a beginning.

Who said it was easy???

Whom could she tell?

These days she could not sleep. She saw her husband and children sleep peacefully beside her and envied them. After the back breaking work of a whole day, the household chores, the daily farm work, she was exhausted but could not sleep!

As soon as she lay down, the same stifling feeling arose within her along with a restlessness that she could not describe. It had been a month now. She had not told anyone. Who could she share this with?

Her husband had long stopped conversations with her. The communications between them were now related to information sharing,about children and the routine requirements. There was no love anyway. In the beginning there was lust, now there is nothing other than duties, obligations and norms, which defines their marriage. But that is how it is, she already knew it. That is how it has always been.

Life is about doing what you are supposed to do not what you want to do. She had tried to make her daughter also understand the same. But she was too naive and foolhardy to understand this basic thing. Dreams and desires took over reason.

Her duty is towards her family, foremost towards her husband. She understood this. She had always been the faithful wife and the doting mother. Fasting and prayers were a part of her life. Gentle and sensitive, she never replied back or spoke in a loud voice. She could not hurt any living being, not even the cat which regularly stole milk from the kitchen.

She loved her daughter more than her sons. She was proud to be her mother. Her husband too loved the girl and treated her almost like his sons. They were not like other families who would not even educate their daughter. Her dream was to ensure that her daughter would pursue her dreams and live a better life than she did.

But that was not to be...

Her daughter, she betrayed them; her husband, her family. She brought shame. Love! How she hated this Love. Her daughter told her about love. That love was all that mattered to her. She could only stare at her girl, stare and stare. She was going to go. For Love!!!

It haunts her. The last moments of her daughter’s life, the last gasp of life!. She held her child close to her heart, comforted her with her embrace. The child whom she killed... she strangled and killed. She had to... for her husband... for her family... oh the honour! It haunts her... all night, all day

But whom could she tell?

The Journey is the Purpose...

I thought I knew everything that is to life... the past few months have changed that perception of mine. It is true that I have gone through experiences that many in my age would  not have till now. The fact that what I have gone through has contributed to my growth as a person and increased my understanding about life and myself  is also true. But now I think I am still largely ignorant about life...and seeking to understand the purpose of my life..

Logic cannot define what happens in life. It is experiential and different for everyone. The difference is in the experience and the way each of us look at these experiences. I used to be of the view that our character defines how we face certain situations, overcome difficulties, handle people and basically live life. But where does this 'character' come from? What factors govern this 'character'? What does it comprise of?  Is it totally dependent on me or you as an individual separate from family, religion, or society??  From the time we are born we are molded, corrected according to what is 'acceptable', 'appropriate', 'expected'. We are made to create this box of our own beyond which we cannot venture... all our thoughts are they ours? Or are we just repeating what we have been conditioned to think is right.

But that does not mean living a life without values or principles, but what are the values that are eternal and do not change - I seek those values! Values that connect humanity - or may be that drive creation.

I have also been wondering about this concept of the collective human un/conscious how does each individual action get reflected into this collective and what does that mean when I think regarding the consequences of my action beyond my lifetime.

This journey is a journey of solitude and silence, reflection and rigour... It is also endless - eternal - The journey of the human being...seeking purpose.

Untitled..Incomplete

What I seek has not changed,

Neither has how I feel,

This is not about you and I,

Not just us but even more

Friendship, you say

I say love is the core

Love isn't complicated, we are

The manifestation of our needs, thoughts and deeds

We can choose, but

To love or not, is not a choice

It is the beginning

The source.

Together...

I wish to run

To you

Not to comfort you

To be held and comforted

Selfishness drives me to you
No doubt!

The questions unanswered

The questions unasked
Linger between us

The hope;

The bridge will soon be made

And we will cross over

To this place of serenity and solace

Together....

Togetherness won't ask for sacrifice

Nor for compromise

All it would need is to

Understand and accept

To be and let us be

From Pain to Possibilities

To get hurt

To feel the pain

Wrenching the heart

Is to realise your

Humanity

To remind you that

Your vanity was in

Vain

How to

Embrace the hurt,

the pain?

What matters?

The awareness of each experience,

The experience of each emotion

The realisation

There are always path of possibilities

Ahead,

Tread on, run ahead...

Smile...

A journey to the soul..

I yearn for a journey

To the souls

Explore the depths of

Our thoughts and desires

The core of our being

The light beckons

You see only darkness

I see the path to my salvation

I can see you laugh

Silently at my ramblings of passion

But rest I will not

Until the pursued joins the pursuit

For I know you will

Hidden in your contempt is the need to be

More than now,

And what better than the love of love

Unbridled by rights and wrongs of the present

But guided by creation

Vibrant and alive

To show you the path you desire and fear...

Is but the truth of your being..

Democracy of the confounded

What's right what wrong,

Who will decide for whom

The hand , the sickle or the lotus bloom

The common man...

Who is she?

The majority...

Where are they?

The voters...

What do they do?

The country...

Is it even true?

What choice do I have,

Or do you?

To be where you are..

To live where you do...

To do what you want...

It's not easy...

I know,

What I seek when I

Gaze into your eyes

Nothing's simple

Nothing's straight

It's not easy to feel what I do

And be polite and nice

You said you want

To be held and never let go

To kiss and be

It took my soul all its strength

To contain my fluttering heart

And handle my bated breathe

For it’s not easy to feel what I do

And be polite and nice

It may be passe for you

Just a phase of

Curiosity or entertainment

It's confusing no doubt

Each moment spent in

Conversation and chatter

For it’s not easy to feel what I do

And be polite and nice

Loss of nothing

That feeling

That grows on you

like,

The mould on the bread,

The moss on the wall

The havoc of a storm

It creeps in unnoticed

Benign and needy

Until it strikes you in core

And puts you down

The feeling of loss

When there was nothing to be lost...

Unwilling...

She lay there staring at the darkness above
A torn body, the mind in shreds
Unwilling to get up,
She felt nothing within
Nothing but darkness
Her rage was impotent
Her fire was gone
Burnt
In the blaze of power
Unwilling to fight
The battle that was
Without a choice or consent
Her love was shattered
Her warmth was gone
She lay there staring at the ceiling
Unwilling to get up
Unwilling to fight.

Knowledge, Love, Purpose

Reading this book ..this short story by O V Vijayan- the infinity of grace

Three things cameto me while reading a particular line

"..I never realised till now what a burden books are. A burden of purposeless knowledge."

There is a context here definitely which cannot be ignored but it set me thinking... Of the connections between Purpose, knowledge and love...

How important is purpose?

What do you think about purposeless love... What about purposeless knowledge?

The author calls purposeless knowledge a burden. Though confused by this statement.. somewhere inside...may be it's true... Knowledge without purpose is a burden.. but love without a purpose can never be a burden...

When I think of it... Love has  so many dimensions..many still unknown to me... And the purpose is love itself...just love. Also sharing something written a few weeks ago;

I am here to be, to flourish in

The irradiant light of love

That I behold

My offering is only myself

To this everconsuming fire

Eternal in its end and origin

When I wonder

How to make sense of this puzzle

Which fascinates and draws me

I find the voice within whispers 

what you seek is but within

But it's not just within me or you, but in all of us. To seek that unending spring of love, to understand is something I think I am trying. Failing at times but never giving up...

Just lost my sleep over these lines.. and thought it would be nice way to restart my inactive blog...

Are you superstitious or religious?

Religion and superstition, how do we draw the distinction? If start thinking about it then if you have ‘faith’ then would it not be hypocritical to look at your faith as more  ‘rational’ than someone else’s faith just because they do not appeal to your sensibilities. There are many similarities than we should actually be ready to accept (Religion vs. Superstition  ). I was writing about this particular case study on superstition that I came across during a visit to a village in Maharashtra. It set me thinking on the ‘difference’ between religious beliefs and superstitions.

Walking around the fringe of a village, we chanced upon a boy with really long and thick hair. I was fascinated by his hair and asked whether he is from a particular religion. The lady with me explained to me that he has been pledged to the Goddess Laxmi! I asked what does that mean. Then she said lets go and talk to the grandmother of the boy who would explain better.

We went to the house of the boy where we the grandmother of the boy who explained that the boy and her sister were born to the her son outside the wedlock from a Muslim woman who ran away leaving her son and children. The son was now with his first wife and had also abandoned his children. So the grandmother had to take care of them along with her paralysed husband. The family was surviving solely on the wage earned by the old lady as a farm labourer. The father of the children rarely visited them and did not provide for their education or anything.

The grandmother explained to us that before the boy was born, Goddess Laxmi had come to her in her dreams and asked for the boy. The Goddess told her that there were going to be complications in birth and a boy would be born through her ‘blessings’ and thus the boy had to be pledged to her. And so the unborn child’s destiny was decided for him before his birth.

Now what are the exact terms of this arrangement we were not able to completely understand. He could be educated and take up a job, but he is not supposed to cut his hair. And in case he has to marry then a pregnant goat has to be sacrificed! The ritual was also described to us. The pregnant goat has to be sacrificed and the head of the semi formed kid would have to be severed and decorated and used to light a diya for ten days. This has to be followed by arranging a feast for few people. Only after all of this can the boy be freed of the pledge that his grandmother made.

The imagery of this ‘ritual’ itself grossed me out. The lady with me started telling the old lady that all this is just superstition and she should not spoil the life of this boy and ensure that he continued his education. I later asked the lady whether she fasted on the designated days for the good of her family and whether that would be superstition that starving oneself would lead to blessing of the God and fulfill our desires. She could not answer my question.

Few days earlier I was reading an article on ‘witch-hunting’ in another district of Maharashtra. Women, usually the ones who are more vocal or active in a village, can be branded by anyone  and be killed by the villagers for bringing bad luck, allegedly causing death of somebody or any other reason.

In the guise of witch hunting, the proactive or ‘rebellious’ women of the community can be conveniently disposed of, same as used to happen in some western countries with the blessings of the Church. More so, even personal vendetta could be settled in this manner. Religion, superstition all seem to be murky ponds where there is immense scope to simply use the ‘power’ over the other in the interest of oneself.

We tend to always look down upon the ‘other’. Their ‘otherness’ is mostly due to the fact that their reality does not appeal to our sensibilities or may be we do not know anything about them. This breeds fear, biases and disgust even. But what is our own, we do not question that. The so called ‘rationality’ never seems to come into our homes, our beliefs but is the lens used to question the ‘other’.

Is belief in God the supreme form of superstition? I do not have a comment for that. I myself am not clear about the existence of this God. What I will however question is the various practices, rituals that different religions perpetuate in the name of this God’s teachings. How do we know whether these practices are superstitious or are they religious?

Why does such superstition persist? Which superstition is better than the other? Mine, yours or theirs? Can we claim to be above superstitions?

This post is the updated version of the one posted on www.missionsharingknowledge.com 

The 'I am Me' Rant...

This may offend you, make you angry or sad... I don't know. But I do not believe that society will ever treat two human beings equally; something or the other will be found that will be used to discriminate, control and discourage. Gender, race, caste, money are just tools used for these. If these diffrentiations cease to exist, new ones will be found. I write this as a woman...albeit privileged and fortunate enough to be born in a particular kind of a family...

I am me
The whole me
Each part of me is mine
Mine alone to dine, wine
and bed
No God, no devil
I am just me

I am me
The fat on my belly is me
The scar on my nose is me
That bald head of a year back is me
The tears in my eye, the loud laugh is me
I change as you do change,
With time, But I will not be the bird in a cage

I don't care if they care for me
But control you can't me
I don't care if 'they' are 'bad'
But I will do what is 'bad'
Oh! the dress I wear is to low or short or tight
But for that right, I will put up a fight

I am me
Each part of me is mine
Mine alone to dine, wine
and bed
No God, no devil
I am just me

I don't care what 'they' say
Come what the hell may
I will be me
I will be me

This post has also been published at Mission Sharing Knowledge

Travelling Alone...

How open are you to a job that would involve travel?

If someone would have asked me this question about a year back I would jump and say "I would love a job that has a lot of travelling!!" Well if someone asks me that now, I would take a moment, lean back and ask, "Now what kind of travelling are we talking about?"How, how often and where?"

In a month, 15-20 days are spent travelling on an average in my current job. And mind you, this is not the flight hopping, AC taxis kind of travel. This is the very down to earth, state transport bus, shared overloaded taxi/auto  kind of travel. The nearest railway station is more than 50 kms away from the village where I work, thus it is easier and more convenient to hope on to a bus directly to my destination. The whimsical, ever changing schedules of the Maharashtra State Transport buses are now routine to me. Sometimes an equal or even more amount of time is spent waiting for the the bus, than it takes to actually reach from point A to B. The travel kit is always ready; a bottle of water, Britannia Marie biscuits and toothbrush (in case I need to stay the night!). Thus you can say it has become a way of life, you may say.

While travelling in these areas, one of the main issues faced is the availability of toilets. Sure, every major bus stand a 'toilet' but beware of the condition that it might be in. And that is a really sad truth. Even in major cities like Pune, one can only lament at the condition of the public toilet in the bus stand. A safe,clean and functional public toilet in these areas is still a luxury that very few places offer. It is hardly a wonder where the officially the coverage of toilets is about 40-60% and we all know how authentic these figures are! Thus when the journey is about 4-5 hours long and you know there are no toilets, the only thing you can do is restrict intake of fluids or water. But this is also not possible during hot summer days...

Well that seems to be a question that does not have a solution that I can offer.. another issue is that of safety. Due to the whimsical timing of the State transport buses, it becomes important to plan my visits to the villages and the travel in such a way that I am back home or at the place am staying before its late night. When I had to travel after nine thirty due to lack of buses earlier, I found myself to be almost alone in a bus full of men. If am lucky, there would be a woman or two, but that would be rare exception. It is not that any untoward incident happened to me during these occasions but it goes without saying how vulnerable I felt during the whole journey, with lewd stares from some men, some questioning stares and more. A single woman traveling at that hour is not acceptable in these areas.

But then work is work and I have to do it. Thus the travels continue....


This post has been published at http://missionsharingknowledge.com/traveling-alone-how-open-are-you/ also....

The Lost Thoughts

They are not lost
At most,
Ignored and set aside
To be explored
They await, inside
The depths of my minds

The most faithful of companions
I have suppressed them
For I thought, they are minions
Causing chaos within
But they are me

They are my voices
Guiding me and my need
Not to ignore and set aside
To understand and heed
To realize that inside, within
Me is my God

These lost thoughts I collect
Hold dear to me
Sometime share with those I
Hold dear to me

I could only stare...

I wanted to know
To ask, to listen
but
Her eyes
Captured my eyes
Vacant
Far away they stare

She looks at me
No
Through me
I can only stare
Silently at her face
Her rusty brown hair,
The colour of her skin.
Is there
No hope that I see
In her eyes

Her chest
Bears the burden
Of her matrimony
Still growing
Seven months protruding
Her belly
Third one, she says grimly
I can only stare
Silently at her face

But,
Then she smiles
Despite her misery
Her pain of
Searching, hoping
(For a better life?)
Her smile took away
The sorrow of her stare
Even then
I could only stare
Silently at her face

The tree that you see....

The tree had been there,
Before you were there
Sprung from the cradle of life
From the lap of the Mother
It used to be a joy to the eye
Oh My!
The tender little green thing
As it first opened its leaves to the world

The tree had been there
Before you were there
Green little limbs,
Okay,
Branches if u say
Oh My!
The excitement rose in its soul
As it learned to grow in this world

The tree had been there
Before you were there
Then, there were the first flowers
Birds making love, the first fruits,
With love from the roots,
Oh My!
The tenderness filled it with a green glow
As it felt fulfilled in this world

The tree had been there
Before you were there
Then it was not this dry
Then it was full of hope and giver of life
Seeing all the strife
Oh My!
It has almost given up hope, with the last
Leaf on its branch shriveling and falling

The tree can die a death of
Oblivion in the world full of fear and distress
But
If you give it the elixir of love and tenderness,
Show it that it has been here, before you were here
It has been a savior
The tree had been there
Before you were there
And it will be there
After you are gone...

Image credits : (http://dipudevaraj.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/thumb3_dry_tree.jpg)

Restless..

Restless I have been for sometime now,
Restless I will be, until
In Your arms, I know I will find peace
You may ignore me,
Slight me or hurt me,
But I know You care,
I know I may scare
But it is just my Love
I know not how to share
I myself am scared
You are rare, so gentle but indifferent
And precious to me...
And I know You care,

Restless I have been for sometime now,
Restless I will be, until

In Your arms, I know I will find peace right now

Courage in a woman is often mistaken as insanity

Someone recently told me that I am too independent(which is a bad thing.) ... I do not understand that.. too independent in relation to what and who? I believe that I need emotional dependence... and i crave and search for that... fearless.. even that is a misnomer... all of us have fears .. some of then which we are unaware of... i treasure that fact that I am a woman... and my expressions reflect that. Ii is tough being 'seen' as a misfit as a black sheep... and sometimes you start 'feeling' that you are.. Courage is about facing your fears, challenging your inhibitions and I believe that is what is required...