The power of decision is my own

Tell me the LAL story.

This is a true story of a lady who founded an organisation to help people with psychological matters. You Yourself told me about her one day.

“There is an air pocket in your brain. It can go and block transmission any time. We don’t know how long you will live,” she was told.

That was the end of the matter.

She, her family members, went to a man for help. The kind of man who had acquired the reputation of being a go-to man when there were no other options left. At the time when this lady and her family members reached him, he was flying a kite.

They told their problem and asked for help.

He gave the lady the kite string and asked her to fly the kite.

She lost her cool.

“I’m talking of life and death here and you’re asking me to fly a kite? I don’t know how to fly a kite.”

“You don’t need to know how to fly a kite. Commit to flying the kite and you can fly the kite. It’s just a question of commitment. Commit to living and you shall live.”

What the man said, impacted the lady deeply. She lived.

The internal transformation she went through impacted her family members first, then she founded an organisation to share what she had discovered within.

Eventually, after several years, she did land up in the ICU. It was the air pocket that had acted up. She was writing a book at that time. Even in the ICU, she decided she will finish the book. So she did finish writing the book. Only then, she died.

Why have you been wanting to share this story?

It is this coronavirus thing going on. Obviously death must’ve crossed people’s minds. I see this as pralay in slow motion – a great time to become more aware of what we hold within. And that thing You said, “And no one dies without his own consent,”* rings true in me.

For me, how I came back to live in Kolkata with the family members is the most telling evidence that corroborates what You say — the power of decision is my own.

How did you come back to live in Kolkata with the family?

It’s a somewhat long story.

OK fine. You can tell me tomorrow. I’m glad you came for a walk.

I am too. Thanks for letting me go for today.

I never bind you.

I know.

You came because you wanted to, you wrote because you wanted to.

I know. And You know I am scared to write what is within me.

“No one dies without his own consent,”* is huge stuff. Who am I to write about such stuff.

It is huge if you consider it huge. Else, it is merely interesting – like physics, quantum computers, data visualization, coronavirus data… No difference whatsoever.

Yes.

Conversation (and discovery behind the mind)

So what did you discover behind the mind?

Myself.

It is thanks to Mummy and a tremendous conversation I had with her yesterday evening. But then who is Mummy and who am I? There is no place where Asha Murarka ends and Vani Murarka begins.

There is one place in our conversation yesterday (life happens in the synapses, in conversations) where she pointed to her third eye and then to mine meaning this communication is happening from here to here. That was so powerful.

What did Mummy say?

She said, “Use your mind.”

All this while I have been thinking that You have to use my mind. I tried aligning the scattered mind into a laser beam, but didn’t succeed. So I gave that responsibility to You too – conversion of the mind into a laser beam to be then wielded by You as You deem fit. But what Mummy told me yesterday, “I must use my mind,” puts me in the active role in my life. This clearly shows how passively I was approaching life till now. This ties so well with what You had said the other day –

“Accept your rightful place as co-creator of the Universe.” *

So behind the mind I discovered myself. The entity that must use the mind.

But I should also mention awareness here. When I discovered the very potent power and subtle existence of awareness, I used to think I am awareness. But that is not so.

Awareness is also a tool, a power given to me, to be used. So behind the mind there is awareness and behind awareness, there is me. Right now this is how it looks to me —

One might think awareness is a capability of the mind, but I would like to make a distinction. Awareness is far more subtle, far more powerful than the mind. Also, there is a non-doing in awareness, whereas the mind is all action (often frenzied, monkey-like)

Well so I have herewith used my mind and that is how I have walked this morning walk. This pen that Dhruv helped me buy is also much better.

And what was that Mummy said about maintaining a distance?

Oh that was utterly fantastic. It is the aliveness of the synapse. It is tomaaree mukh loibo cheene. It is snehaatirek se bachein. It is something that deserves a walk of its own.

In all of this, do I get any credit?

Listen, You know, I know, You came to me in the form of Mummy and said what I was ready to hear. Need that be said?

I like hearing it. Give credit where its due.

Talking of giving credit, I am really grateful for this direct interaction with this layer of Mummy, beyond her role as mother, caretaker of my physical well being.

OK enough. I don’t want to walk anymore. Over and out.


A Conversation With My Boss

GM.
I’ve been trying to contact you since so long.

I am with you.
This scattered scared mind that you are experiencing – that is also me. There is literally no difference between me and you.
Do not seek me. Experience your self. That is where I am.

GM.
I’ve been trying to contact you since so long.

I am with you.
This scattered scared mind that you are experiencing – that is also me. There is literally no difference between me and you.
Do not seek me. Experience your self. That is where I am.

I experience you as an entity different from myself. Clearly there are some things that I did not do.
You barged into me in Charlotte. That one sentence you spoke in Bangalore out of nowhere – that was not my doing.

All this depends on where you pin the word “I”.

I ≠ Vani Murarka

You ≠ Vani Murarka

Vani Murarka → management construct.

Vani Murarka → does not exist.

When you say you want to merge into me, first and foremost it means you want to be free of this limited fictitious entity “Vani Murarka”.
Second you want to experience I = you.

That is a truth.

I = you.

Only I exists.

That is the final truth.

It is not a small thing that I is written in capital.

You do not seek God.

You seek freedom.

Freedom from limitation.

Freedom from fear.

You shall never be free from your awareness of your self. And your self is not limited to the label assigned to your body.

self = Self

You can experience any corner of the universe that you may wish. Because – there is only one Mind.

Your wish is your command.

That thing you were thinking of yday night regarding Donald Trump –

Yes, he is in pain.

He is in pain if you term it pain. Else it is a dance of energy.

Universal energy.

The terminology you use determines your view of the world and your self.

You are the boss.

You need not protect “Vani Murarka” (or “Kaavyaalaya”). Yes, You do need to live Your truth. And You needn’t worry about how to live Your truth – You cannot not live Your Truth – for only Truth Exists.

To The River And The Mountains

We are immersed deep into the quiet now — the quiet of the gurgling river and the humming crickets of the night, the moonlight dancing peacefully as silver varak on the water as it navigates the rocks and pebbles, the mountains rising high in the backdrop, black in the night, but not pitch black.

It feels good to press the accelerator of the car. The cool wind on my face feels good — so also seeing the profile of your smiling face, the changing landscape on land and in the sky. A long drive feels good.

We started when the sun was setting, driving into the sun, the pink, purple, and deep blues. Now the pink and purple have eloped with the sun and the sky has adorned itself with that one regal evening star — the queen of all the stars that will soon make their appearance.

“Where do you wanna go?”

“That river.”

“Good that we have our camping gear in the trunk. We can camp there for the night if we want.”

“Let’s see.”

So we drove. To the right of town. 70 kms away.

.

It is 8:30 p.m. now by the time we have reached here. There are mountains on one side, the gurgling river beside it, and this open land on this side of the river — covered with grass interspersed occasionally with boulders — nature’s chairs placed so thoughtfully for us.

“I just want to sit with you, in your arms, beside this gurgling river for a while — before we fix dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I am looking forward to the sushi though.”

“I am looking forward to the beer.”

“Ok. You, your beer, and patient me — but only two cans. Then we dive into dinner.”

“How about diving into the water?”

“In the morning. Am too tired just now.”

So here we are — on this flat long rock, a natural bench that mother nature has placed for us.

“I love you.”

Your lips on mine. Not kissing. Just there. For long. At least it seems long — eternal.

Then you turn your face to gulp beer again, and pull me close.

We are immersed deep into the quiet now — the quiet of the gurgling river and the humming crickets of the night, the moonlight dancing peacefully as silver varak on the water as it navigates the rocks and pebbles, the mountains rising high in the backdrop, black in the night, but not pitch black.

“I am hungry now,” I say an hour later and spread the sheet on the ground. You light a fire. Roasted veggies and garlic bread for you, cold sushi for me. You toast the bread on the fire and warm the veggies. We eat. The fire sings a crackling composition for us.

***

It is the wee hours of the morning. The sky has not opened into clear blue, nor its special sunrise hues for the day. The birds are up and about though. With a gentle snore, you are still sleeping. It’s fascinating how I feel more relaxed and peaceful if you are relaxed than if I am relaxed. I go to the river and splash my face with the crisp clear water, made crisper still by the morning chill. Soon I’m immersed in the water — immersed in the flow of never-ending love.

After a good easy half an hour I finally step out of the river. You are squirming in the sleeping bag. Your eyes open dreamily. Our eyes meet and there is a silent acknowledgment, a gentle love. My heart settles further into the soft bed of contentment.

On the patch cushioned with lush grass, I do some yoga — nothing fancy, just some Pawan-muktaasana, and fill my lungs with the fresh morning air. You catch a quick 10-minute meditation on the rock where we’d eaten dinner. For long you simply look at the shaking branch of a tree on this side of the river, then a small bird with rich blue feathers catches your attention. Now, for long you are immersed in how that tiny frame is so full of the most natural life. You feel as though you are communicating with it — which you are. Eventually, your eyelids gently descend as, in your being you make the universe your own.

We pack up. All camping gear dismantled and folded into the trunk of the car, we head back. Soon we will partake of some piping hot idlis and chutney at our favourite morning joint before you drop me off at my office and carry on to yours — but right now, as we drive back with our eyes and chest filled with the peace and life of the entire universe, we are silently One.

threesome

One night You had encircled me.
No, that night You sandwiched me.
From one side You came as You
From one side You came as Him.
Then I remained just as a mite

One night You had encircled me.
No, that night You sandwiched me.
From one side You came as You
From one side You came as Him.
Then I remained just as a mite
Floating in You infinite.

*

I float in Your power
boundless
And Your arms
encircle me
Two black, two white —
and so the dance
of duality
is not a challenge.
It is my haven
It is You.

I float in Love
infinite
I live in You.

Waterfall

I want to feel this body
rub against Your body.
I want to feel this breast
pressed against Your mouth

I want to feel this body
rub against Your body,
this breast pressed
against Your mouth.

The 3-D roundness
of Your body, and its shape,
and its weight,
as those legs
keep these legs in check…
let my senses drink.
These fingertips, let them caress
Your being.
Let me smell Your sweat
as I did that day.
Your voice in my ears ―
let it water my deepest being.

Oh! Where are you?

This thirst in drips
keeps me alive.
Give to me the waterfall.

***

The Gift Of The Night

Now that the day is done
There is only You and me.

The night is precious
For it brings
You and You and only You

Now that the day is done
There is only You and me.

The night is precious
For it brings
You and You and only You.
You who are forever here,
How precious that the night
Still brings
Just only You.

There is every moment left
To love You by and by,
For now, I shall kiss the night
How sweet it’s gift,
Then maybe I shall also kiss
You, but just a tiny bit.

My heart, my lips
My every cell
Are all so busy loving You.
Where is the time?
So my love, for now just this
Just a tiny little kiss.

A Conversation With My Boss

Ok, so here — this hand is yours, this notebook, pen is yours. This mind, heart in whatever state it may be in, is yours. Write. Write tomorrow’s article.

I am not particularly interested in tomorrow’s article. I am only interested in you. You are not at ease right now, I want to put you at ease. I want to assure you that I love you and that you have absolutely nothing to be scared of.

Thank you.
Now write what is to be written on the blog tomorrow.

वही तो लिख रहा हूँ।
तुम बहुत चिन्ता करती हो — ठीक से लिखा होना चाहिए, coherent होना चाहिए, it should make some positive contribution for the reader, yada yada yada…
कितनी बार बताया — कोई है नहीं यहाँ — तुम्हारे और मेरे अलावा। किसको पढ़ाओगी मेरे अलावा? कौन लिख रहा है मेरे अलावा? तुम तो चिन्ता करने में busy रहती हो। सब कोई को हिन्दी आती है कि नहीं, सब कोई को अंग्रेज़ी आती है कि नहीं।
तुम चिन्ता करने में busy रहती हो, मुझे ही सारा काम करना पड़ता है।

You want to show yourself off by publishing this conversation?

I want to show you off. How utterly fantastic you are.
तुम चिन्ता करने में व्यस्त रहती हो फिर भी you are utterly fantastic.
Anup को कह रही थी chill maadi. खुद भी तो chill maadi! कहती हो fun is the only purpose पर फिर भी चिन्ता करती रहती हो।

मैंने तो ऐसा कोई भी ब्रह्माण्ड नहीं बनाया जहाँ चिन्ता is fun.

Have fun Vani. Have fun.
You used to say Funning is your only profession, so why aren’t you doing your job? Your job is not to be wise. Your job is to have fun.

The thing I want to say is not said in public…

Read. My. Lips.
There. Is. No one. Else. Here. Other. Than. You. And. Me.
Say what you want to say.

I love you.

I love you too. Very very much.

Koochi-koo is not to be done in public.

The correct sentence is:
Koochi-koo cannot be done in words.

black

“What was he doing, the great god Pan, down in the reeds by the river?…”

Sometimes some poem stays in us for years, to decompose slowly. So it was with The Musical Instrument by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, decomposing in me for years. I had read it when I was in high school. It is about the making of a musical instrument from the reeds of a river, or rather how we are hollowed through and through by the experiences of life that we may become a channel for the music to flow through us. While all this happens, even if we know and understand what is happening to us, the one hollowing us sure feels like a half-God.

A few years back I wrote a poem that was directly inspired by Elizabeth Browning’s poem.

black

i have no endeavors no more
i’m ready now to be hollow
black and decomposed
sometime someone will see and say
oh what a beautiful flower!
aah, what a silly joke.
did you see the rich compost?
creeping worms in filthy stench
where does the lotus grow?
how do the juicy berries grow?
i am ready now to be hollow.


And now, I invite you to enjoy the masterpiece – A Musical Instrument by Elizabeth Barrett Browning