Few people are capable of expressing with equanimity, opinions which differ from the prejudices of their social environment. Most people are even incapable of forming such opinions.
— Al
Perceptive and concise as always.
Few people are capable of expressing with equanimity, opinions which differ from the prejudices of their social environment. Most people are even incapable of forming such opinions.
— Al
Perceptive and concise as always.
Peace, wished, yearned, null satisfied;
Aspired, immersed with actions,
Fulfill’, not a throbbing heart.
Captain, a ship floats yonder, steadfast
Meditated, on now, even with a trace,
Beloved, shattered fallacies, intrinsic.
Dexterous dreamer, evolving, surviving
manholes and pitfalls, still walking tall.
Mutually seduced and stripped, iron to cotton.
A delicate lotus, blooms, ‘midst raging sea,
A split soul, earned, past deeds, karma;
A yoke formed, sublime fruition inevitable.
Ye celestial suns, witness, bless an union.
Thank thee elements, fire and water, pure.
Dawned today, afresh; A new day, bright.
Fluid is life, flowing incessant, unyielding,
Punished by vagaries will, let the soft pass,
Supple yet dense, for forces hard.
Surreal the thought, pure the accomplishment.
A persona shines supreme, a soaring phoenix;
Thoughts beyond, change resisted, failed short,
Resplendent the mind image, intuition fought,
Fruitless an union, once.
A splinter in the mind’ eye,
Yearning, buried ‘midst work and play;
A heart torn asunder, resonant,
senses enriched, a beacon visible aloft.
Regret, pangs mounted, emotions billow,
flux, a future, a sublime moment past;
Experiences gained once, crumbled mountains to sands,
With time and resolve. A mail arose hence. So long.
A serene voice, outcome unexpected, connected link,
Inaccurate once perceived, the mind,
Blundered the sublime message, man blind,
A hallowed angel, salvaged one from the brink.
Discovered anew, aspiration and adoration,
To the quintessential essence, meditation, a consciousness,
To an oscillation, duality, a swan,
To my liberation, music, a magic flute,
To a reflection, beloved, a unique spirit.
We adore not a person perfect, only
realize an imperfect person perfectly.
Ye be the perfectly imperfect hemispheres,
Conjoined to form, a luminous, peerless yoke.
This shall be all our stories,
For always divine, the bond with any name.
In the blue of the sky, in the green of the forest,
Whose is the hand that has painted the glow?
When the winds were asleep in the womb of the ether,
Who was it roused them and bade them to blow?
He is lost in the heart, in the cavern of Nature,
He is found in the brain where He builds up the thought:
In the pattern and bloom of the flowers He is woven,
In the luminous net of the stars He is caught.
In the strength of a man, in the beauty of woman,
In the laugh of a boy, in the blush of a girl;
The hand that sent Jupiter spinning through heaven,
Spends all its cunning to fashion a c#url.
There are His works and His veils and His shadows;
But where is He then? by what name is He known?
Is He Brahma or Vishnu? a man or a woman?
Bodies or bodiless? twin or alone?
We have love for a boy who is dark and resplendent,
A woman is lord of us, naked and fierce.
We have seen Him a-muse on the snow of the mountains,
We have watched Him at work in the heart of the spheres.
We will tell the whole world of His ways and His cunning;
He has rapture of torture and passion and pain;
He delights in our sorrow and drives us to weeping,
Then lures with His joy and His beauty again.
All music is only the sound of His laughter,
All beauty the smile of His passionate bliss;
Our lives are His heart-beats, our rapture the bridal
Of Radha and Krishna, our love is their kiss.
He is strength that is loud in the blare of the trumpets,
And He rides in the car and He strikes in the spears;
He slays without stint and is full of compassion;
He wars for the world and its ultimate years.
In the sweep of the worlds, in the surge of the ages,
Ineffable, mighty, majestic and pure,
Beyond the last pinnacle seized by the thinker
He is throned in His seats that for ever endure.
The Master of man and his infinite Lover,
He is close to our hearts, had we vision to see;
We are blind with our pride and the pomp of our passions,
We are bound in our thoughts where we hold ourselves free.
It is He in the sun who is ageless and deathless,
And into the midnight His shadow is thrown;
When darkness was blind and engulfed within darkness,
He was seated within it immense and alone.
— Sri Aurobindo
Yesterday, had the privilege of attending an opera, one by the greatest composers of all time, Wolfgang, his last. It was beautiful, the setting, the music and the execution. Delightful. Made me get out of my seat again and again for I couldn’t stay still in the ecstasy of the experience. The story in itself is woven around a couple in love, and their eventual journey to overcome the ordeals of a union, to face their family, to conquer death together. Enlightened and united, they are initiated into the temple of wisdom, ruled over by Osiris and Isis. Here’s a short synopsis.
I knew about the act that involved an Aria by the Queen of the night, even before I went in. I was looking forward to it and wasn’t disappointed. It enraptures one and leaves you speechless in its highest tempo and emotions conveyed.
The Queen is persuading her daughter to not join her mortal enemy Sarastro or fall in love with prince Tamino who has become part of Sarastro’s wisdom clan. A translation of the conversation by the Queen is below.
The vengeance of Hell boils in my heart,
Death and despair flame about me!
If Sarastro does not through you feel
The pain of death,
Then you will be my daughter nevermore.
Disowned may you be forever,
Abandoned may you be forever,
Destroyed be forever
All the bonds of nature,
If not through you
Sarastro becomes pale! (as death)
Hear, Gods of Revenge,
Hear a mother’s oath!
Sublime. Such intensity and passion in music. And the F’s flailing about and the Queen delivering her emotion with depth that only an opera well written can showcase.
A heart bulges with emotions, of something familiar, with music scales rising and falling, a story one can understand, an aspiration binds two far away souls to connect and conquer even death on the quest for wisdom. I wish a magic flute would present itself to me, to make everyone merry and burn away thoughts sombre.
A great cast and a wonderful performance. I’m very glad that I didn’t miss it.
For the past few days, I’ve indulged myself in my work, more unusually, more intensely than my recent memories serve. The price I paid was with sleep and food. But a sudden realization came through today. Having oneself deprived of food, brings about a self so acute, senses on the edge, to quickly see what needs to be done. More quickly than a sated mind ever perceives. Yes, the blood sugar drops, no doubt, but the body survives on more than just your daily glucose. I learnt that while running, I learn that while pushing the self. Perhaps it is the mind’s way of coping up and optimizing to do tasks more efficiently.
I pondered once on the idea of fasting. I was intrigued then. There are those who wish they didn’t have to fast, all over the world, while in parallel, others do because they are compelled. I see why now. Even the sages did it. Even imbibed it as part of a belief system, in lands across. In depriving oneself of the pleasure, of food, the sustenance, there is a certain sense of introspection that arrives unforeseen. It doesn’t necessitate deep meditation nor self denial by other means but it comes from the primal need. Any abstinence, has its purest cofactor that is undeniable. Tangible and so thick that it can’t be ignored.
I understand now because I was famished. I could have eaten anything in sight. Organic, inorganic, living or dead. I could’ve eaten metal. I tried to eat paper. But I managed to bring sense into myself to get a decent order to take home and relish after a hard day but the journey home, on an empty stomach was not easy. It was only just over twelve hours since my last meal but the food in my car emanated a perfume I couldn’t resist, one which I had to endure for another hour’s drive. It wasn’t easy. I couldn’t imagine something more rigorous on the mind and visions filtered through …
I once quoted:
There is not any memory with less satisfaction than the memory of some temptation we resisted.
I thought I understood. But again, it’s all relative. We constantly push the realms and unexpected as this was, took my reality for a spin to bring me back to senses. Fasting, a delirious feeling inevitable, teaches much. Restraints, denial, perseverance and strength. Of course, the taste of the food itself is immaterial for it always is as heavenly as it could be…
Another one by Dylan (Do Not Go Gentle Into the Good Night).
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.
— Dylan Thomas
That is sublime. Dylan with an interesting background reminds me yet again that writing is an outlet powerful enough to sap excess emotions. Stronger the emotions, often sweeter the poetry, respite imminent…
Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much perfoms much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.
–Vincent Van Gogh
Ha. A man with my outlook. Another genius artist among countless others, who died depressed and poor. RIP.
hmm.. Perhaps short a time remains to not be doing what you love and involved with people you adore.
Heavenly downpour, an elixir sustains,
Living and recycling all that stands;
Serene function, forgotten, seemingly mundane,
To observe and grasp intricacies.
From my mother, balanced on her crown,
Water, taken and reclaimed, visually stunning,
Fire, emanated breathing, an incense perfect,
Tempest, carried, touching force magnificent,
Constant beat, bringing down, rhythm supreme,
At heart, tasted, understood, finally.
Five senses and elements, brought together,
One divine event, unnoticed, never again.
All things occur in pairs; there is no light without the dark, no good without evil, no action without its reaction, no life without death. Perhaps it is enough to realize the union of the duality, the split personality of things that are an illusion, rather than delving deep into the segregated extrema. Or perhaps, the blatant maxim is to know the circle of life, intensifying from ignorance to enlightenment, separated only by an infinitesimal event horizon, while we surf the coaster once more.
I was hurt, psyche and body, repeatedly. But it’s nothing that a new laptop, more work, some physio, new wallet and cards/id can’t fix. I misunderstood. This year has been a test. A test on actions, morals assumed, resolve weakened, aspiration mocked and evolution impeded. The ride has spiralled me down to abysses named not, but every rise hence thereafter, takes one a spectra higher. Every time the nadir goes lower, higher the zenith rises. Understand now, every change invokes new experiences, immaterial the perception, simple and beautiful. No need to get emotions riled up for moments in vain or august, but feel relieved that there is a balance, eventual.
I ache for that balance at the end of the path. Inevitably we shall get there, now or another. I pray not for myself anymore but for those who pray, care for me. Perhaps it is the will that sustains, even long after you are gone, through infinite lives, to reunite and fulfill. A causality. A seed. Propagated through eternity till its fruition. Reminded yet again in movies, music, quotes, physics, math and everyday life. As long as life exists, this can’t stop. Try me heavens. Do your worst…