Walk

Let’s walk mate. Let’s walk till we get tired. Let us walk together until the pain in our feet far exceeds the one which we create for ourselves daily. Let’s walk till the cacophony seems to be a distant sound indistinguishable from music. Let’s walk straight and let’s walk till we con people around us, to call us crazy. Let’s walk not to con them but to give them that pleasure of mocking us. Let’s walk to laugh on ourselves, until we empty all our emotions in the laughter. Let’s walk until we are the only recipient of our laughter and let’s walk until the cry of pain dissolves into the laughter. Let’s walk for that anger, not in disrespect to it but in awe of its power to take control, until it gets mixed with joy. Lets walk so that we are together and yet on our own. Let’s walk for our liberation, mutual yet independent.

In memory of one of the most memorable walk with Chandra.

Lake Placid

I was looking at the far end of the lake. It seemed similar to the end on which I was sitting. In fact it was funny in a way because the whole lake looked same, unperturbed and unfazed by its surrounding. It had a strained calmness associated with it, a tension which was palpable and paradoxically peaceful. I decided to take a dip, to fathom the reason for the calmness, which I had been seeking for so long. I plunged into the water and was for an instant was bewildered by the contrast. The inside seemed to be a totally different world, vibrant, flamboyant, lively, and separated from the outside by a thin membrane. There seemed to be a passion flowing through inside, of type I never came across before. There was serenity about it. What intrigued me were the deep valleys and the small hills which existed like agony and ecstasy and both of which bore the similar attractive fleece over them, the fabric of which had passion and reason in it. The tandem of zeal and serenity was the reason for the calm strain with which the surface of the lake rippled. It just said a lot about the depth of the lake. There seemed to be an acceptance for anyone who took a plunge but there seemed no resistance either for those who chose to go out. The stasis, devoid of forces, seemed to be a religion. I fell in love with the lake. I fell in love with its placidity.

Act

Let me try to dispel a notion, a notion that a certain job is nobler than certain other.  Pardon me when I say that some months back I held this notion too.  The reason behind it was partly the fact that I felt proud about giving up my well paid job and committing myself to something which seemed nobler. The work is still noble; and I still feel proud. But now the pride is about doing. It is important to do, it’s important to act. The fact that only action is important immediately dispels the notion that I am doing a nobler thing. Now the thing is not important but doing is important.  At this point it becomes imperative to read this beautiful poem by Billy Collins.  

http://poemhunter.com/poem/shoveling-snow-with-buddha/

Again, actions matter.

This article is the result of all the talks I have had with Chandra, Tejo, Arhan and Sarangi.