5 years back.. I wrote about an incident

The Unforgettable Hug

Burden fills my heart,
Already torn apart
Trembling and rickety is my life's cart
Can't even shoot straight on the board of dart

The feelings in my heart never ended
But it cried and craved to be mended
Courage and strength, I never lended
Because I knew nothing has yet ended

Love is what my heart wants
It's tired of listening to my brain's taunts,
But what it has that my heart flaunts?
Everyday, every night this feeling haunts

Someone I love is very dear
I love you, I want to hear
But everything so hazy and unclear
Clear it can't be, I have a fear

Tonight, holding her hand is what for I crave
I want to reach the heaven from my ugly grave
Can I ask her for it, am I that much brave?
Tonight, hugging her and cry is what for I crave

I held her hand, felt that rush of blood
A lotus grew in my soul's mud
Heart beating fast, thud thud thud
Emotions within, trying to flood

Confusion grew and only grew
There was nothing she knew
She didn't feel, her heart never flew
From my eyes tears came like morning dew

But she gave me a hug to make me comfortable
It was like a mother telling her child, a fable
I cried my heart out, nothing seemed stable
I can't put on my feelings, a clear label

After the dust storm, rain came
I poured my tears, while we played the hugging game
Such bliss, my God, I even forgot my name
Never ever before, I had felt the same

She was numb, but I could hear my heart's sound
She was senseless, while my emotions rebound
I got so much strength to cry that I lost every bound
Love, sadness, happiness, and every emotion I found

Everything in my mind so fine
She loves me or not, but her presence so divine
Now I can again gaze into her eyes of wine
I am glad she thinks we didn't cross the line

In the mirror I saw..

I stowed my head under the pillow and cried endlessly. The world around me never seemed alright to me. But after a long time, it was pinching me and the time was pestering me, "Ankur, when will you be free from the clutches of other people? When will you fly? When will your time come? When will you smile with joy? When will the word 'excitement' look small to you? When, Ankur when?"

I washed my eyes, stared at myself in the mirror and saw a slave, a slave of situations. I saw a man who has made 'patience' his best ally. I saw a man who has lost belief but has kept his faith intact. I saw a man whose heart pumps with the power of faith, only. I saw 'Ankur', a seedling that sprouts and clears its way through the layers of earth and becomes a tree. I saw potential but no power yet. I saw courage but no strength yet. I saw a wheel, that is being pushed to the top of the mountain, waiting to run. I saw helplessness with help all around. I saw 'wait' standing with his rare partner called 'Certainty'. I felt the words, 'No pain, no gain', so deeply that pain ceased, 'gain' lost its meaning.

In the mirror I saw...what I have become and what I can become if I leave what I have become.

P.S.: I don't know what happens to me after watching movies like 'Udaan', 'Taare Zameen Par', 'Shawshank Redemption', 'Papillon', books like 'Not without my daughter'.

Diwali afterthoughts

I woke up with the harsh sounds of crackers and wondered, "How did I sleep so much and I am waking up in the evening". I picked up my watch and saw that it's 6 in the morning! People here were bursting crackers at 6 in the morning. I went out to have tea and the tea stall guy told me that people started with the crackers at 4.30 in the morning. I was dumbstruck.

I could not understand this weird system. I even heard rockets and aerial showers in daylight. I could not know the reason behind this stupidity. I called up my parents in Delhi to wish them Diwali and they told me the opposite thing that people there were just not interested in crackers this time, a very low sale of crackers. I smiled and thought, "Finally people are getting to understand that environment matters." But this wasn't the case where I stay these days, Chennai.

We clean our homes on Diwali but dirty the environment. Isn't this Earth our home? There already so much pollution and we contribute to it heartily on Diwali. Do you think Ma Laxmi or Shri Ram would be happy to see this planet dirty? It's even written in Vedas that we should not harm our environment. Cars, plastic, industries, they are inevitable today, but crackers? Couldn't we do without it? What is the point in making numerous temples and not taking care of our Mother Earth?

I asked my younger sister not to burn crackers and her reply was, "Didn't you burn crackers when you were of my age?" I understood that it's we, adults, who must take the responsibility of guiding the young by setting examples by ourselves.

This is perhaps one of the most boring posts of mine but dirty roads, polluted air, cacophony of crackers on the eve of Diwali compelled me to write this.

Dedicated to her..

A barren land, stones and sand
Thirsty, hungry, longing for life, fighting fate with strife
As she walked with her feet imprinted
Innocent and pure, sand turned to manure
And a colorful life sprouted
Thus ending the never ending war

Scorching sun, clouds taunting
"It will rain", sounds haunting
Just a little shade, a pittance
She saw above, her eyes touched the clouds
As a drop of tear rolled, it pained
To the clouds it pained, but it rained

An impediment in the journey
A mountain blocked the path, exhibiting its wrath
"Won't let pass" It said in autocracy
"It" was It sounds crazy
Lips shy, she kissed the hill
Arrogance melted, the mountain moved

In search of a confluence
She and I, flowing like two rivers
Parallel, longing to meet under life's feet
Oh! This distance, this desire to be One
I commanded, "Show your magic, open the heaven's gate"
"I can move mountains, cause rain, change the land, but how do I change the fate?"

Death is beautiful

A dear friend of mine who is a doctor was talking to me few days back and the discussion of death came up. She closed the discussion by saying, "I don't want to talk about death." I wondered, if we can talk about life, why can't we talk about death? Is death such a bad thing?

If death is a bad thing, why do we die everyday? When someone sheds his old personality and gains a new one, it's death of an old personality and birth of a new one. We keep on changing every moment and every moment is thus death of an old self and birth of a new one. Physically, cells keep on dying and new cells keep on getting born, replacing the old ones. This planet is limited in size, so we, humans, a type of organism (although highly developed) need to get replaced too. Some die young, some die old, nevertheless they form a space for the new one.

This death too is followed by birth. Rebirth is a phenomenon accepted by all oriental religions. Dr. Brian Weiss, author of Many Lives, Many Masters, also accepts the truth of rebirth. Soul never dies, he says, it keeps on changing the physical body like we change clothes. Bhagvad Gita mentions the same. Death is not an end, it's a beginning of another beginning. There is no shame in talking about death. I am not talking about the west as Western religions do not accept rebirth. Christianity has its own issues with acceptance. It took hundreds of years for Christianity to accept that Sun is at the centre of the solar system and Earth revolves around it. When the first Railway was built (Stockton and Darlington Railway), Church opposed it saying that the train carries you to hell and devil drives it. Some people got frightened while others got the opportunity to ride the first train. I wonder how many years will Church take to accept the concept of rebirth.

Zen goes to the extent of saying that death is the most beautiful experience in one's whole lifetime and it should not be missed. Some people get so scared of death that they die in unconscious state or while sleeping. They certainly miss the beauty of it. It happens in an instant which is not an instant. It transgresses beyond time. Those who see someone dying see death through their own eyes, through their own perception, they don't know how much the dead is enjoying!

The whole universe
shatters into a hundred pieces.
In the great death
there is no heaven, no earth.

Once body and mind have turned over
there is only this to say:

Past mind cannot be grasped,
present mind cannot be grasped,
future mind cannot be grasped.

- Zen Master Dogen Zenji, 1200 - 1253

I am talking as if I have died many times. Indeed, I have died many times. We'll continue to die and be born until the cycle of life and death goes. There can not be a melody without pauses. The music of life is not possible without the pause of death. If life is beautiful, death is ought to be beautiful because life and death are not separate, but are entwined like a continuous string. You may smile at life, you may cry over death, but the music being played on this string won't stop.

Simply simple

Recently, I attempted to read articles by overly educated sociologists and writers. My eyes kept swinging between their articles and a dictionary. It is a good thing that my vocabulary improved while reading them. And it is a great thing that my brain did some exercise. It was fine for me reading complex sentences as I deliberately wanted to read some complex writings in order to gain control over Reading Comprehension in CAT 2010.

But...

Why do they have to write in such a complex style that people hang themselves while trying to understand it? Most of the writers winning booker's prize are such complex writers that I doubt if even the jury can understand them. If they are writing for their own, I pity them for being so complicated characters. If they are writing for others, I laugh at their stupidity. If they are writing for other complicated writers, I express my anger for their 'writers chauvinism'.

I remember my school when my math teacher used to ask pupils to come on blackboard to solve problems. She used to applaud for those who provided the most intricate solutions, even if those problems could be solved in a simpler manner. Why is there such an affinity towards the complicated? I guess, it's a attraction of the unknown. "If I can't understand it, it's ought to be something great and high above my level".

Humanities schools teach the most complex psychology and 'bouncer' philosophies. I wonder if they do it just to show their students that the pupils are learning something 'great'. They include western philosophers like Karl Marx, The Greek Gang of three (Socrates, Plato and Aristotle) and other complicated philosophers in their curriculum but not simpler and as per me, more useful philosophies like Zen or Taoism. They don't include simplistic thinking approaches like the 6 thinking hats. But they take pride in learning complex although useless things.

I am in a habit of doing things in simpler ways, if possible. That is why when I presented by graduation project, the reaction of the professors was, "This won't be considered, it is too simple". I remember that I asked a manager of a multinational company, "Sir, why don't you use Edward de Bono's simplistic thinking techniques for your company?" This manager had a million dollar reply, "Ankur, his techniques are too simple. I don't think they will work." And I laughed my ass off.

But...

I am happy that the great thinkers and innovators have understood the power of simplicity. Google, the most widely used search engine looks simple and works simple. Apple iPod is the simplest mp3 player in market and the best selling too. I am glad that there is someone like Edward de Bono who not only appreciates but also encourages simplicity. This simplicity isn't easy to achieve. Often it's more difficult to achieve than complexity. Still, people seem to appreciate complexity when it comes to language, mathematics and other things beyond their hold. But when it comes to things of their use like search engines, mobile phones, laptops, etc, they mostly go for the simpler objects. Many companies are using simple techniques like the 6 thinking hats to achieve higher efficiency and lesser time in meetings and taking decisions.

We still have a long way to go to realize the importance of simplicity.

Amidst all the complexities and appreciation for complexities, I pose a question to the mango man (aam aadmi):

Wasn't life supposed to be simple?

Is it the same moon?

A girl said, "I am possessive about him because I love him".

I told her, "Because you don't love him, you are possessive about him".

A butterfly flying around, sitting on the flowers is certainly more beautiful than one in hand, about to die in the clutches. A desire to possess someone masked by the name of 'love' soon kills the life of the one who is possessed. Freedom is the most basic need of a person, whether one realizes this or not, and if it is taken, the person dies, not physically but emotionally and spiritually.

I am sure that love is not death, it is something higher than that. I am sure love is not possessiveness, it is a surrender. A surrender which gives the other the freedom to fly high. Two birds flying together not by bondage but by togetherness, connected by an invisible golden thread which can extend itself so that even by separation they are together.

Possessiveness and love might look the same but they are not. They are opposites. Possessiveness is the antagonist of love because love says, "I surrender to you. I have fallen in love because my ego has fallen" while possessiveness says, "I have got you now. I won't leave you, you won't leave me. I will keep you in my cage. If you try to go, I'll snatch you." Possessiveness comes from desire, a desire to own a person like a thing. Love might also come from desire, but this desire is the desire directed to the other not to the self, it's selfless.

It is the same moon which inspires poets and lovers, and it is the same moon which angers the silence of the sea.

Tale of chicken

When I was in college, there was not a single day when I didn't eat chicken. I not only loved it but I was addicted to it. Every time I had it, I cherished it. Shawarma, grilled chicken, Hyderabadi Chicken Biryani, butter chicken, all made me tick.

However, with time, my love for chicken depreciated. Last week, I had Hyderabadi biryani which was perfectly made. I could notice its perfect color, perfect aroma and perfect masala. But, when I had it, I had no feelings for it. Maybe, it was an infatuation. After few days, I had shawarma. Once upon a time, my feelings for shawarma were: "Shawarma is the best thing you could do with chicken". It was made in kubus which made it perfectly perfect. When I had it, it wasn't special at all. Then I had grilled chicken which I used to gobble one full plate alone! Even that failed to have any effect on me. I realized that I have got detached from chicken.

It all didn't happen suddenly. It was very gradual. Every day chicken affair became every week affair, then every month, and now... I don't care. It might be a small change but I am one step ahead of understanding myself. There are 2 kinds of people: One who get addicted and others who move on. I fall in the latter category. Yes, I kept a step further towards understanding myself.

Goodbye Chicken.

It all started with a story..

When I was a kid, I read this story somewhere..

There was a man and his young son in a village. This man had a horse which he used for pulling a wagon. It was his only source of income. Life was nevertheless smooth. One day his horse ran away in woods. But he was calm. His neighbors came to him expecting that the man would be sad, but he was not. He just said, "May be there is something good behind it".

The horse returned the next day with a wild horse along with him. Now the man had 2 horses and neighbors congratulated him. He calmly replied, "May be there is something bad behind it".

Next day, while his young son was trying to tame the wild horse, he fell from it and broke his leg. The neighbors came to his house to console him and were surprised to see the father calm and composed. He just uttered, "May be there is something good behind it".

There was a war going on in the country, so army came to this village to recruit all the young men. But the son had a broken leg, so he was not recruited for the war in which all the young men of the village were killed. Thus, his life was saved.

This story is one story which I always remember when life takes a sharp turn. When I was called for the job, I was happy. When I had to travel so long everyday out of Bangalore, I was sad. Then I got the stream I wanted, I was happy. Then I was sent to Chennai, I was sad. Then I got a good project, I was happy. Now, when I am unable to handle it, I am sad again.

The problem is that I can't stay in the middle of happiness and sadness. I have to swing between them. Defying what the Bhagavad Gita teaches- Maintain your equanimity in happiness and distress. Defying what Buddhism teaches- Stay detached from happiness and sadness. Defying what the Panchtantra teaches- Every good thing has a bad thing behind it and vice versa. So, there is no point in being too happy or too sad.

Despite of knowing all this, I prefer to stay like a sine wave; like a pendulum; like a rocking chair. May be I am still too young.

The Chennai Story (Part 3)

PG search got over and a new search began. The search for good food. This search is still on. I'll let you know if I find good food. Delhi's Sagar Ratna has better sambhar than the best restro here.

Anyways, let's move on to the next part of the Chennai story. This part is called 'The Rat Race'.

I entered my office at 8 in the morning. There were very few people in the office. I went to the library and started reading Harvard Business Review magazine. I was enjoying it and didn't realize that it's already 10 a.m. I rushed to the office and it was full. People were working with full force. I tip-toed towards my project manager's cubicle and asked him, "Sir, can you please grant me a leave for 2 days on 17th and 18th June? I really wanna go home. I haven't been home since January." He said, "Alright, leave granted but let me tell you something. That guy working there... he hasn't been home since 1 year 10 months. That guy there.. he hasn't been home since 1 year 6 months.. It's just the beginning, so I am granting you leave." I felt relieved that he granted me leave and he is a nice straightforward fellow who can give me an idea about the future. As I walked to my cubicle, my head spun. Every person, every damn person working in my company had a ponch! Oh my God! They don't have time for family, they don't have time for exercise, they survive on junk food to work for hours. I just had a glimpse to the rat race.

In the evening, I shifted to my new PG. I was excited. Finally, my final room. I happily had it cleaned, unpacked my baggage and set up everything. Just as I was about to sleep, I saw a rat race, again. This time, literally a rat race. There were 2 rats in my room who were racing! I wanted to cheer them up if they were my friends but they suddenly disappeared. I had to sleep with lights on. I didn't want to be nibbled by rats while I am sleeping. In fact, I don't want to be nibbled by rats even while I am awake.

Guess what, we have a spectator here. While I am writing this, there is a huge lizard on the wall opposite to me. There is bio-diversity in my room. Wow! Isn't it amazing? I have tears of happiness in my eyes. All animals (including me) living under one roof; Rats, lizards, flies, mosquitoes, ants, sometimes dogs also enter this PG. And to add flavor, it is so hot here that I have to live like Mowgli in the room. Let's rename this part as... "The Jungle Book"

The Chennai Story (Part 2)

Thank God, I got a project. Although I am technologically challenged and my project is a development project on a totally new and high level technology, I believe I can do it. But there was one thing I didn't believe that I could do it. That was finding a good paying guest house in Chennai.

This part is called "THE PG STORY".

I called up this PG owner who sounded convincing on phone (just like all of them) and I went on to see his place. He opened the door of a vacant room and I asked him nonchalantly, "I need a room, not a store room." He smirked and replied, "Thees eees theeee room sir. It ees aanly 6 taau-sand per montha". You know what? That room had a small bed cramped into the room and a bulb hanging above like an interrogation room. It had a small hole by the name of ventilation.

I called up another PG owner who also sounded convincing. I asked him, "Does your room have ventilation?" He assured me that the room is perfectly ventilated and only for 4500 bucks per month. I gladly went to see the place around 10 at night. I was excited. Although I had to pay 100 bucks to the auto driver, I was happy. But then, the auto driver was unable to locate the place. I called up the PG owner and made him talk to the auto driver for whereabouts of the place. He took me into a dark lane. It was bumpy and endless. I thought I am being kidnapped! But I saw a set of teeth shining in the dark at a distance. I realized that he was the PG owner, smiling as my welcome. He took me to a secluded house. I confidently walked into the house and saw many teeth shining. There were hundreds of teeth around in a 3 BHK house. I asked him about a single room and he showed me a set of 4 plywoods, set in the living room in the form of a room. They call it a room! He excitingly said, "See sir, it eees ventilated. Plywoods are broken from the top to provide air". I had no words. I was dumbstruck.

Next day, I decided to take a double room. I made a strategy. I planned that I'll scare off my roommate somehow and live in a double room paying rent of a single room without a roommate. I went on my room hunt. And to my utter surprise, I found a spacious double room with reasonable rent and attached bathroom (or toilet or latrine or shauchalay, whatever makes you happy). As I was having a look at the room, I saw the catch! The wall between the bathroom and room didn't touch the ceiling! The wall was 7 feet high and that bathroom had no exhaust. That means, whatever you do in the toilet (this word seems more apt here) can be heard and smelt in the room.

Another PG had a nicely painted, spacious single room but no ventilation. And the real catch was that bathroom was 2 floors higher in the house! If you want to do your essentials, go out of your room, your house, climb the stairs 2 storeys higher, go inside and find a bathroom in the corner of the place. And don't even expect to get a reward for your efforts because the size of the bathroom was the same as that of a trial room in Westside. (I thought I would advertise Westside on my blog as it is owned by dear TATA)

There is more to come (but not odour). Stay tuned.

The Chennai Story (Part 1)

"I have 2 news for you", told our HR.

"What what what!", we exclaimed.

"You are being released from training on this Monday", she told us.

It was Friday and it was a good news. A reason enough to party.

"The other news is that you are all being sent to Chennai. You have to report in Chennai office on coming Wednesday".

Hearts broke in a second. All party plans got cancelled and preparation to reach Chennai began in a distress. I felt a qualm of destitution, of helplessness but I had no choice. Just as I was getting acquainted to the place, I had to leave Bangalore.

Monday night, I had a bus to Chennai with 6 other friends. It rained that night and the bus was late. I love rains but not when I am carrying 40 Kgs of luggage. On my way, I thought of the picture of Chennai I had in my mind. Men walking on Marina Beach, holding each others' pinky fingers. Girls in salwar kameez ogling mustached men from a distance. Mustached men ogling girls with a fear of getting caught. Tamils hating non-tamils. These all images got me from inside. The excitement of a new place got replaced by the fear of 'aliens'. Somehow I slept in the bus hugging my fears and inhibitions.

We reached Chennai in the morning. The weather was good. Gods of Chennai didn't want us to feel the scorching heat on our first day. With a lot of toil, we got a hotel. Journey till here was easy as a cakewalk. More was yet to come.

A crash course on omens

"You bet!" (used as a colloquial substitute for "of course")

"I can bet you on that!" (used just to emphasize their point and having no balls to actual bet)

"Wanna bet?"

"I bet you......................."

I hear these words often but I never used them myself. I had never done betting in my life until few days ago. I thought gambling is "bad". Although the concept of "nothing good, nothing bad" runs deep in my thought process, but somehow I never gambled. May be, it was because of fear of losing. May be it was my childhood conditioning. I hated playing cards and luck based games.

Few days back, while IPL was going on, a thought struck me. I wondered, 'How would I know how good or bad my luck is until I bet?' I thought of share market but that isn't pure luck. It involves knowledge too and comparatively more money than usual friendly betting. I don't watch cricket at all, so I thought of betting randomly. Based on a meager information, I bet 20 bucks on Mumbai Indians. Yes, just 20 bucks with few friends. I just wanted to test my luck. Mumbai Indians won, I won.

Next match, I again struck a deal. 50 bucks this time with another friend. Something more happened that day. I thought of calculating omens or signals from the universe to speculate whether I'll win or lose. I was in office and it began raining cats and dogs. It was a storm too. The rain didn't seem like halting at all. I had to leave the office and thought it's a bad omen because I didn't want to get wet in the rain.

As I left the office, the rain stopped. It was a cool breeze with a slight drizzle. It was soothing. A seemingly bad omen got converted into a good one. In a flash, I remembered, 'I kept my clothes on the terrace! What if they flew away? Oh no, it's a bad omen'.

As I reached my terrace, my clothes were not on the wire where I hung them. They had fallen down and because of rain, they got wet and heavy, so they didn't fly. Rain saved so many clothes of mine. A bad omen was converted into a good omen. Now I was sure Mumbai Indians will win.

I decided to watch the match. A bad start for Mumbai Indians. Sachin got caught. They had a poor run rate initially. But I noticed, Mumbai was playing on luck. Royal Challengers Bangalore had a bad time fielding. Mumbai Indians won. I won the bet. 50 bucks didn't matter. What mattered was that I learnt, to some extent, how to read omens and how to interpret them.

I still have a lot more to learn. I would want to bet everyday because I want to learn to read omens for my little advantage in this big world. And yeah, you might carry good luck or bad luck and never even know about it until you bet. Wanna bet?

Ah, This!

A raincloud shrouds the valley.
Night rains have filled the air with sage.
Past my window, a tumbleweed spins
and, in the stream, a gray heron stands,
poised to strike.
The morning sun rolls over the dark hills.

On and on, wherever I look, beauty, wonder.
I could say, "This is God,"
or try to tell you about Zen
or the Zen master whose book this is.
My head could talk to your head.
But why?
The master has said it all
better than I,
and now lives in silence,
occasionally murmuring
"Ah, this!"

This is the 'introduction' of my favorite book, "Ah This!" by Osho. I have read this poem hundreds of times. And every time I read it, I feel it's new.

Where do I go?

Shoulder to all, love to all

I know how to cheer them all

In the gloomiest of their days

I do roll a smiling ball

Yes, they share their burden

They lighten their hearts

Even cry with bucket tears

I love to wipe them all

In a silent corner of my heart

I sit and ponder

Who can cheer my heart?

A voice echoes, "None"

In the dark valleys of my nature

I look up in the sky

Shouting, "Why"

The stars just smile at me

I smile back, good manners say

But who understands my way

All grown up, I remain a child

All civilized, my emotions still wild

A wild child, in search of comfort

Found it inside a heart

The heart of its own

But is it the place for the grown?

All the questions still unanswered

Something still encumbered

Found everyone, everywhere

With an option to retreat, at the right time

The need to be united

Being a loner always, I thought ‘lions hunt alone’ while ‘monkeys stay in groups’. I never need any company whether I have to eat or shop or entertain myself. I can even laugh or cry alone. After a long self introspection, I realized that whenever I had performed a task with someone, I had felt much better and learned much more. May be that’s the reason monkeys evolved but lions didn’t.

Someone might love guitar, someone else might love drums or singer’s voice. But when united, everyone and even more people love the music created by the unification of the band’s solo elements. It doesn’t mean that solos are not worthwhile. In fact, they can be worth more than the band. What exactly I think is: when unification is more progressive than each of the solo elements, it’s better to unite, else, make a one man show.

Mind is an attribute of the individual, there’s no such thing as collective brain or collective thought. But brains in synchronization with one another can produce big results. Computer, as we see today, is an example of synchronization of ideas of different geniuses to produce a thing that is more useful than the ideas alone. Everyone has to think alone, generate ideas alone. To combine it or average it with someone else’ idea is their own will.

It has been proved that chanting ‘mantras’ or meditating alone won’t give as good effects as doing it in a group will give. Probably, that’s the reason Osho meditation resorts have a huge hall where mass meditates in togetherness. Sri Sri Ravishankar also encourages the chanting of mantras in mass congregations. But the pre-requisite of all this togetherness is being on the same frequency otherwise it’s futile or may be hazardous.

Beyond boxes...

I thought about Lord Krishna, the way he thinks, the way he lives and the way he plays. At one point, he plays with the girls, flirts with them. At another point, he gives a serious discourse of Gita to Arjun. He is as good at playing flute as he is at using his weapon- the Sudarshan Chakra. At one point he gives this statement, “I am the highest goal and the supreme power. Surrender to me and you will attain Nirvana”. At another point, he washes his best friend, Sudama’s feet and wipes them with his own stole.

Probably, very few people can understand the contradictions of Krishna. And those who understand, they are the ones who understand the contradictions of life. Life cannot exist without contradictions. Happiness comes with sadness and vice versa. Success comes with failures and vice versa. All you need is to understand and be aware that living a life means living with totality, with all the contradictions.

North Pole can’t exist without South Pole. The depth of a valley comes only with the height of the mountain. There are positive charges because there are negative charges. They are two sides of the same coin. Even life has no meaning without death. We can think of uncountable opposite forces which can't exist without each other.

The key to living is to accept the situations without judging them, without putting them in the boxes of right or wrong. There is no box; it’s just a creation of our wicked mind. Good thing, bad things; hell, heaven; moralities, immoralities; are all created by us. Following one side and leaving the other deprives us from living a total life.

The problem with optimists is that they always look the brighter side. The problem with pessimist is that they always look at the darker side. Both fail to look at the totality, both fail to understand the reality which cannot exist without the merging of the dark and the bright.

That is why, for me, Krishna symbolizes ‘life’. Surrendering to Krishna means surrendering to life itself. Life which has no beginning and no end, it’s eternal. It’s complete, it’s total and existing without boxes.

And justice for all…

People can say crap about anyone but when someone utters crap about them, they find it unjustified and unfair. They can point out injustice and unfairness in everything but when it comes to their own, fairness is a forgotten word.

Why can’t people be fair? I don’t mean that they should use fairness creams and become fair. But they should at least think before saying, “that’s not fair!” I ask them, “Are you fair enough?”

I don’t turn myself blind to the flaws of people who are close to me. Even if it’s my parents or siblings or my best friends, I accept their flaws and I know their strengths. If they do a mistake, I don’t defend them. If they do a great deed, I don’t shirk away from patting their backs. They are humans too. They can’t be perfect. They might be perfect for me but is there anything called ‘absolute perfection’? Are we being fair by defending the flaws and unjust deeds of people we love?

Law is blind because it’s not supposed to judge on the basis of caste, color, religion or relation. But why is love so happy being blind? I don’t believe that love is blind. I believe love is something that opens your eyes. It’s something that shows you the flaws in someone and yet you live with it. It’s something that washes away the flaws on its own. I would love it more than anything if my partner points out my mistakes so that I grow. I would love it if my partner stops me from being unfair so that I can evolve.

Let’s be fair with everyone so that we can expect fairness for us. Let’s do the justice to ourselves and others so that there is place…And justice for all…