Let there be light ...

The young God started the year with a mixture of excitement and also slight trepidation.  

He had just come back from a vacation with his parents, which, he wished, had lasted longer. But as his Mom reminded the second year in the school was the most fun. It is here that they would learn the universal alphabets of creation, matter generation, lighting of life spark and all the other things.  If he wanted to grow up to be a important God, this was vital skill that he had to acquire early on.

The first day back at school was quite nice. Our young Hero spent fun time with all the other little Gods talking about the Divine vacations each had spent.  The more studious ones, spent their time studying, some created their own Time or Space or both with their parents. Some took a summer class on the principles energy flow.

Our little God, however, spent a lazy vacations in the shores of eternity creating castles using the sands of time. Sometimes he would just float about in the pool of Infinity that they had at the beach hotel where he was staying.

One time, during the vacation itself his Parents took him to a Universe Factory as a learning trip. He spent aeons watching universes form and disappear like soap bubbles, each a unique creation with its own size, colour and lifetime. His father explained that he himself had started his career at a Universe Factory and worked his way up in the divine corporate ladder. While at the factory, Father had told our young hero that he expected him, our hero, to follow in his footsteps.  Mother had chimed in saying becoming a successful God wasn't so easy and took many years of hard work at the school. Why did a God have to work hard in school and factory, he had wondered. Should Gods not remain on perpetual vacations? What was the fun of being a God then? He however decided not to voice his questions and hazard a long lecture from Mom...

***

"Being able to Create, is what makes you God", our hero was brought out his reverie by the booming voice of his teacher who made his dramatic entrance into the class.   To create an effect he lowered the window blinds with a flick of his hand and as the Godly children were adjusting their eyes to the darkness, manifested a few shiny new universes from his sleeve. In front of the wonder stuck eyes of the little Gods, a series of big bangs lit up the darkened class.

As they watched, the big bangs manifested, followed by the appearance of matter and antimatter, clumps formed inside the ever expanding bubbles, stars, star clusters and eventually galaxies formed.  At every milestone the children cried out in unison for the changes were wonderful to behold.  Every single universe was unique, if one was comprised of matter, another was of anti-matter, some other was entirely made of notions, yet other of certainties.  Some existed in a substratum of space, while others in imagination. Some started from a bang and expanded away, while others started as a all encompassing reality that slowly converged towards a central point.  As each universe was about to be born, the teacher infused each with a measure of energy, the essence of Shakti, the cosmic energy personified as Divine Mother. This energy enabled the birthing of the universe and once the universe was born, it was this very Shakti that would flow through the universe throughout its lifetime.  This Shakti was the soul of the Universe and as long as an Universe was able to support the flow of Shakti through it, it would remain in existence. At the point the flow of Shakti would no longer be possible, Shakti would exit the universe to merge with the Cosmic Shakti and the universe and all that it contained would come to an end.

As the last of Universes emerged from his sleeve, the teacher held it in suspension in front of him. The rest of the universes, created earlier, has already risen to the ceiling where a big pipe guided their path to a lab where they would play out their lifetimes.

He held his hand up signalling the class to quiet down. In a hushed tone he said - "I am going to give this one here, the biggest gift that a universe can have."

A long pause for effect.

"I am going to give this one the gift of Life."   With a special prayer to cosmic Shakti, he infused into the universe a special life creating energy.  Lo Behold, planets in different corners, in diverse galaxies, that could conduct this special energy came alive with life.  With life came a dynamism within the universe which the other lifeless ones could never match.  The universe itself became self aware, conscious of its existence, and began it own search for bliss.

As the universe slowly floated around the class humming softly.  It continually changed hues, as civilisations formed and decayed away, various lifeforms and belief systems came and went. Art and Science were discovered, as was Spirituality.  The class followed the universe's wake with mesmerised eyes.  At long last the teacher waved this spectacular universe away to a special section in the lab where living universes lived out their lives.

"What you saw today, is the entire syllabus of what you will learn through your stay in this School," said the teacher.  "The interplay of the Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva and Shakti is the platform upon which existence of these universes, of our own universe and the universe that views ours as bubbles, ad infinitum, rest".  The kids coughed uncomfortably. Being omniscient, they no doubt understood what the teacher was saying, but as children the concept of infinity when extended to their plain of existence sounded little scary.  

"This year, we shall learn the Brahma principle of creation along with using the essence of Shakti.  Depending on how you all progress, we shall also work with the life giving aspect of Shakti"

And finally, "Class dismissed.  Review what we did today and I will see all of you here tomorrow".

*** 

Through the year our hero worked hard in class.  He was among the first to manifest an universe and send energising Shakti coursing through its veins.  The first few he created were incredible explosions, while some just disappeared with a whimper.  But before long he had perfected his skill of determining what was the right amount of energy for each kind of universe that he created.  Some of the specimen that he created drew appreciation from is class and teacher as well.  Before long, the universes that he created started turning out to be the most extraordinary ones in the class.

Finally the day came when the class had create their first living Universes.  As the teacher entered the class there was some last minute nervous laughter.  This was the first test they would have to pass as Gods.  Clearing this level would take them to the next classes where there would understand the ways of Shakti at a deeper level, advance to Vishnu and Shiva levels.  Those who wanted to continue studying further would specialise in master level study of the Brahman and the complete manifestation of Brahman- Krishna.  

But before any of that happened, this class had to be passed.

The first two children came back dejected, they had created beautiful universes for sure, but these proved to be bad conductor for Life Energy.  The teacher kindly asked them to repeat the class. Time, of course, was no object.

Then came the turn of our hero.  Nervously, with a prayer to Krishna, he came up to the class podium where he was to manifest his universe. 

Slowly, with his entire concentration, he created a beautiful big bang using Shakti energy from which emanated a neat universe.  Not too crowded nor too sparse.  He created time and space for matter to form and exist. In a short time there were beautiful galaxies that studded the whole universal space. 

It was finally time for Prana Prathista, to give the universe Life.  Invoking Goddess Shakti, he passed in a bolt of Consciousness giving Life Energy, the Prana Shakti into it.  But with increasing dismay, he realised that this Energy was not flowing through his creation.  In one or two planets it did show some movement, but before the life could grow beyond single celled organism, some asteroid or supernova would snuff Life out of existence.  Was he destined to create a lifeless universe too? 

When all seemed lost and he had all but hung his head in defeat, these was a collective gasp from the class.  He looked up to see that in a minor peripheral galaxy, there was a dwarf yellow star around which eight or nine planets circled.  In the third planet, Life had all of a sudden established hold ...

Even as he looked down at the planet, he saw that Life Energy had truly found a conductor and the planet and the universe itself, came alive.  At the touch of Life the planet itself turned a beautiful shade of blue and from a distance appeared as a pale blue dot.

Our hero, who was also named Brahma, after the creation principle, smiled and murmured, "Let there be light ..."

The Beginning 

Today is my Rudraditya's birthday and I did want to write something to celebrate the day. Hence this story about a young God.  As I wrote about the young God, I am sure you know whose face I visualised in my mind :)

This story is result of mixing of multiple thought process in my mind - Vedanta and Fermi Paradox, Love of Krishna and Advaita, Creationism and Evolution and many many others.  I have tried to provide a few layers to this story, I hope I infused some sense as well....  

The Pale Blue Dot by Carl Sagan has been an inspiration for me and many others for long. I couldn't resist coming back and adding a reference to it  as an inside out view.  Please do take a few minutes to watch it, it is just amazing.

Madhusudhan Dada of the Forest

(This is a retelling of a Popular Bengali folk tale.  Submitted by Rudraditya as his class project on story writing)

 Once there was an small boy, named Jotil, who lived in a small village. The village was in the middle of a forest.  He lived with his father, mother and little sister.  His father was a farmer and mother a housewife.  The village had about 20 other huts and a small shop. The shop was run by the village headman and Jotil’s father helped out in the running the shop.

Jotil used to go to school to a nearby village for which he had to pass through a forest through a small path. In the morning his mother would take him to the school and in the evening his father would bring him back in his cycle. Those were happy times and he used to look forward to riding in the cycle with his father.

One year the rains were less and it was not possible to farm. Jotil’s father has to leave for a faraway town to earn money for the family.  Jotil, his mother and sister stayed back in the village.  Once Jotil’s father left his mother’s work also increased since she not only had to do everything at home, but also work in the village shop to make sure she earned some money.

Jotil was required to go to the school alone.  He was just about 8 years old then.

He was very afraid and on the first day he ran all the way to school and back, sobbing and shivering with fear. In the evening he set near his mother and narrated his trip to school, how scared he was and that unless his mother came with him, he wouldn’t go to the school any more.

His mother smiled gently at him and told, - “Silly boy, why are you scared. Your brother Madhusudhan Dada stays in the forest. If you are scared call him, he will accompany you.”

The next day, Jotil cautiously entered the forest and started running towards the school crying – Madhusudhan Dada, Madhusudhan Dada.  No one came and presently he reach school. In the evening the same thing happened. 

He came and told his mother about Madhusudhan Dada’s nonappearance and all she told was that you mustn’t have called hard enough.  Somehow Jotil didn’t believe her but thought he would try anyway.

Soon Jotil got quite used to crossing the forest and would make a call to Madhusudhan Dada before starting and then run all the way to the other side.

One day after the classes he got to playing with his friends and didn’t notice that the sun had almost gone down.  In panic he run into the forest to go to home. 

In the darkness he lost his way and realized he had no idea where he was, where he should go and what he should do. The dusk was fast becoming night and the forest creatures were waking up.  He could feel that he was being watched by numerous eyes of the forest creatures.  The big trees of the forests rose up like big and dark monsters whose arms swayed as the wind passed through. 

He stood crying for he didn’t know what to do.  He called out for his mother but he knew that she wasn’t there to hear him. He hoped his father would come and find him, but father was at a faraway town. 

He finally remember what his mother had told, that Madhusudhan Dada stayed in the forest and that he had not called him hard enough. 

So with all the might in his small body Jotil cried out – “Madhusudhan Dada, please show yourself. Please show yourself.  I have no one else to turn to.  Only you can help me."

“Mother has told me that if I need you, you will come. Why are you not coming?”

Every sound appeared to him the footstep of his Madhusudhan Dada and he fully expected him to appear before him.  He called out him nonstop and with his mind only on him.

Suddenly from distance he heard the soft music of someone playing flute.  At the melodious sound of the flute all his fear went away because he knew help was near.

Presently he saw another boy just a little bit older than Jotil himself come and stand in front of him. Jotil was so overcome with relief that he jumped up and hugged the boy, who hugged him back. 

“I know you are my Madhusudhan Dada”, Jotil said.

“Yes, I am, Jotil”, said Madhusudhan Dada.   He was slightly taller than Jotil, had a flute in his hand and a feather was stuck in his hair on one side.  Somehow even in the darkness he looked as if he was shining.

“Why did you not come before Dada?  I have been calling you for so many days.”  Jotil asked.

“I was always there, keeping an eye on you Jotil.  However I didn’t think you really needed me to be present with you.  Today you did and called out. Here I am. Simple.”  Madhusudhan Dada smiled.

Hand in hand they crossed the forest and reach Jotil’s village.  Jotil thanked his Dada and ran straight home to the arms of his waiting and worried mother.

From that day Jotil was never alone in the Forest, since he had learnt how to call out for his Madhusudhan Dada.

***

Om Sarashwatyai Namah -- Celebration of Ma Saraswati - The Giver of Knowlege

Knowledge or Wisdom, when the ancient seers of India envisioned her, appeared as a gushing, flow of live giving water, sometimes gurgling along as a gentle stream, sometimes thunderously rushing past breaking all barriers and obstacles. Forever mobile and changing. No doubt therefore Goddess of Knowledge was named after the most important river in the history of Indian history - The Saraswati, the cradle of Indian Civilization. 

Ma Sarasawati is the Goddess of Knowledge and Arts. Today is Saraswati Puja, the celebration and the special day of worship of the Ma Saraswati.

My association with Ma Saraswati has been from childhood through the Saraswati Puja which is a significant festival for the Bengalis like the rest of India. As kids my brother and I would run to Mom with our books, so that she could place them in front of the Divine Mother for some special grace to help with our studies.  Subjects that were specially hard to me such as trigonometry  or civics found special position in the Puja, because I was convinced that I could get through them only through the Mother's grace and blessings.  There also used to be the locality pujas which were organized mainly by older children under the watchful eyes of the grown ups. 

In our young Minds, Ma Saraswati, was this benevolent deity whose propitiation was necessary to do good in studies and pass exams. So with all the respect we could muster and with eyes firmly shut in apparent bhakti, all of us kids would try to outshout each other as we chanted her mantras, for who knows what amazing blessings were in store if you could just manage to get ourselves heard.  The most common mantra we chanted was this one:

सरस्वति महाभागे विद्ये कमललोचने ।
विद्यारूपे विशालाक्षि विद्यां देहि नमोस्तुते ॥

Meaning:
1: O Devi Saraswati, the most Auspicious Goddess of Knowledge with Lotus-like Eyes,
2: An Embodiment of Knowledge with Large Eyes, Kindly Bless me with Knowledge. I Salute you.

(Taken from this page)

Of course in reality, what Ma Saraswati represents is a knowledge that is far deeper. It the knowledge of the Self, a concept that forms the core of Indian philosophy.  The meaning of world, universe, multi-verse, life itself or whatever else that is perceived or is beyond is not be sough without, but within, either in terms of the relation between the Self and the Super-self or as an identification of the Self with the Super-self, depending upon the school of philosophy that you choose to follow. Ma Saraswati is therefore the giver of divine knowledge or I would argue the only knowledge for which the soul takes the human birth. She therefore is the patron of all Gyan yogis everywhere. For isn't it Knowledge, especially Brahma Gyan, in which resides our Salvation, our enlightenment and redemption?  I dare say, it does.  The name Sarawati itself pays homage to the Ma Saraswati's role in imparting knowledge of Self to her children.  In my own personal journey today Ma Saraswati is my refuge, my inspiration, my guide.

I am amazed at the genius of our ancient thinkers and rishis who could take such a subtle concept, and impart it a persona which could bring it within the grasp of the laity like us.

Today, as my son sang the hymn - Sri Vani  Kalyani during a special prayer of Ma Sarawati, I was also reminded that my Father, the great classical singer that he was, prayed to Ma as a Goddess of the arts as well. Swami Vivekanda invoked her before his famous speech in parliament of religions. Ma Saraswati has inspired numerous  creation of arts, as music, sculpture, paintings, verses and prose. One of my favourites is a piece created by the Japanese composer Kitaro..  I leave you with the melodious strains of the superb creation that must have been graced by Ma Saraswati's blessings to have come out so nicely.

Om Sarashwatyai Namah

See Also:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saraswati

http://hinduism.about.com/od/hindugoddesses/p/saraswati.htm

The Power of Teamwork

Lessons in life come to you from places you least expect.

On the first weekend of February this year, my son, Rudraditya participated in a Taekwondo tournament, his first ever, and got a silver medal. Taekwondo is a martial art originating in Korea. It combines combat techniques, self-defense, sport, exercise, and in some cases meditation and philosophy. Pretty excited about it, he was too.  Wouldn’t take the medal off the rest of the day and would show it to everyone that we came across. I was however a little less excited than would be expected. Aditya had done remarkably well in the more difficult wooden block breaking part of the tournament and will little or no practice managed even to break a wooden block with a kick. But when it came to the comparatively easier act of demonstrating taekwondo steps, he missed a few, which cost him the gold.

Finally against my better judgment I told him that he could have won gold if he had focused more. He and a friend of his who was also there at that instant cried out in near unison – But our teacher tells winning is not important participation is.  They then went back to playing, paying no heed to the speechless dad, with a gaping open mouth, staring in their wake.

I was truly rendered speechless. For I realized the enormity of the mistake that I was making – Not only had I come really close to depriving my son of the joy of the moment, but what was even worse, that I was projecting a rat mentality onto him that I always boasted of being free of.  Luckily he turned out to be way smarter than his old man. And there by hung a tale.

If I have learnt one thing over the years is that success in any endeavor comes not so much from patchy flashes of brilliance as it does to deep and sustained commitment from a team. Flashes of brilliance and inspiration have their place no doubt, for they act as flares that suddenly light up the path ahead and momentarily afford us a glimpse of what lies ahead. However to make progress in that path what is needed is a team that commits itself to the journey and bring their diverse skills together for a common cherished goal. Committed participation in my vocabulary is synonymous to teamwork and endeavors from the simplest to the greatest have succeeded primarily because of committed participation. And a true leader is one who understands the secret of making teamwork happen. The profile of a true leader is not one who looks to slave drive people but one who brings about self-realization to individuals in the team. Realization about their own uniqueness and talents. Realization about the importance of the work they do and that others in the team do. They push people, but not get people to stumble but to excel. Finally a true leader gets people to collaborate. They are often fun folks to be around.

However perhaps the biggest characteristic of a winning team, leader included, is a belief in the higher goal, being charged with a vision, a purpose. History stands witness how our freedom was won by sustained and committed participation of the common man who worked as a team for a good that was way greater than individual aspirations. Similarly the grandeur of the pyramids, the breathtaking beauty of the Khajuraho temples or mesmerizing charm of the Taj would have never come to being without teamwork.

Each of these wonders needed a long term vision on part of everyone who was involved, needed courage, a willingness to put in time, learn and finally contribute to the common cause. It needed hard work.

The lesson that I now think my little Aditya learnt that day, and taught me as a bonus, was the power of committed participation. On the larger scheme of things a Gold medal wouldn’t have made an iota of more difference. For what he had learnt that day was the joy of participation in a team sport, where no doubt individuals get applauded for doing well, but the overall team score depends on how everyone in the team performs. The short huddle that all the kids, between six and ten years, got to after the tournament, in their cute childlike way to scream in delight, show each other their medals and prizes and promises made to practice more for the next tournament has set the base for long term success.

For it is always Teamwork that succeeds…

Recently I wrote this for the monthly newsletter at work and thought it should show up in my blog as well...  :)

Enriched

Our family is enriched, honoured, blessed ...

My brother and Rumki have become the proud parents of a sweet little princess. Her big brother, Rudraditya was in Jamshedpur recently to welcome her to our world and our lives.

Our humble thanks to Lord Krishna.

May His blessings always be on our little princess and her brother.

Jai Kanai.

Raja Bahadoor

His sideways profile has always adorned the pages of history and social studies books of my boyhood. I remember Raja Ram Mohun Roy from those days as a sketched figure with a traditional turban looking far away, as if to some distant utopia. Like so many other school boys I associated with him key words like Brahmo Samaj, Abolition of Sati and Social Reform that would help me weave a story together in the annual exams. At that age I was never to know what great admiration I would come to have one day for this giant of a man who had graced India more than two centuries ago. Strangely my fascination started after seeing a old Bangla movie on him on TV about fifteen years back in Bombay. Since than I have continued to read about him and my admiration has only grown over the years. Ram Mohun Roy, as Muller says, was truly a great man. Not just because of his monumental achievements in the field of social reforms in an India that was just waking up, but, to me, also because of the strength of his moral conviction. 

If he had the courage to raise his voice against the plague of superstition in Hindu Society, he also had the discernment to resist conversion to Christianity for the wrong reasons. He instead sought a path of true spirituality that was untainted by the dogma of established religions. He always saw the Supreme as "... the Absolute Originator who is the first principle of all religions”. For him English education was not a pretext or a catalyst to reject all things Indian and embrace all things western but correctly a means to broaden his horizons. Knowledgeable in Bangla, English, Arabic and Persian he was truly like one of the wise seers of ancient India who had given unto the world the treasures of Veda, Upanishad and Puranas. Indeed, he enriched our understanding vastly by writing deep commentaries on Vedanta, Upanishads and on the teaching of Jesus. He distinguished himself as a reformer who founded colleges, raised his voice against social ills and charted a path towards religious unity. He was one of the architects of the Indian Renaissance that with time would snowball into the freedom movement. Only one so wise as him could have achieved so much in one lifetime that won him admiration of commoners as well as greats such as Rabindranath Tagore. When he traveled to England and France he received great adulation and was received with honour.  His death was a little tragic, ailing and alone in a distant land where a dispossessed Bahadur Shah was not able to send the monies promised to the Raja for his services. However his admirers there ensured his comfort when finally curtains fell on a great life at Bristol. 

His life has left an indelible mark in Indian history and continues to inspire those who have attempted to learn from his life. For years I waited for the opportunity to go and pay my respects at his tomb in Bristol’s Arnos Cemetery. So when I saw my little Rudra stand folded hand in front of Ram Mohun Roy’s tomb a week or so back, imitating me, scant understanding what he was doing, I thought that it was every bit a fitting climax to a long cherished dream and that the wait had been truly worth that moment. My son mayn’t remember this pilgrimage when he grows up, but I am convinced that Raja Bahadoor shall continue to inspire him and young people like him for a long long time to come.

Travels with Rudra

Rudra is presently on a trip to the United Kingdom. It was raining so heavily there and people were in such gloomy mood that he felt that they could do with a little bit of sunshine. Of course he knows that his ol’ Mom and Dad can’t do a thing without him, so he took them with him. Besides he does like being hugged by these guys (while no one is looking that is). He has been taking his mom exploring Luton, while Dad’s been out during the day doing the stuff he usually does. 

Last Saturday he took Mom, Dad and his Pinku Kaku to see the sights and sounds of London. Dad was disappointed as Westminster Abbey was closed so to make up for that Rudra took everyone on a cruise up the Thames river in the evening. The London eye looks magnificent as dusk wafts in, lit by green lights. Rudra promised his mom that sometimes next week he shall bring her for a ride on the big wheel and he pacified Dad by saying that Westminster shall be open on other days. 

Earlier in the week Rudra took everyone to Bristol, where they stayed in the Ramada Grange Hotel. The hotel is on the countryside and has really vast lawns surrounding the property. The couple of days he was there were spent in pursuit of pure joy of running amok in the lawns, scaring geese and Halloween pumpkins, getting scared by horses, and generally making trouble. One of the mornings two wild bunnies paid him a visit by the hotel window. While a Bristol, he helped fulfill one of Dad’s long cherished wishes. He took his old parents to pay homage at the tomb of Raja Rammohun Roy. His Dad has been a fan of Raja Bahadoor since childhood and considers him to be one of the greatest Indians to have graced our motherland. It was a touching moment for Dad as he and his son (i.e. Rudra) stood folded hand in front of Raja Rammohun Roy's Samadhi. Right now, Rudra wants to be pampered a little bit, before he goes off to sleep. 

Good Night everybody.

An Year in Paradise

My Rudra turned one today. 

A big step for the little guy who can now use whole numbers to represent his age instead of just a fraction. :) So here is what his day was like today: He got up a little earlier than usual today and got a good scrubby bath. He protested and squealed valiantly, but Mom was not to be denied on this day and he emerged squeaky clean. He then wore new dresses that made look him very smart and trendy, which he didn't mind much, after all he likes creating a good impression. An well dressed gentleman is always a delight to the eyes, he knows. 

He went to visit Kanai and his patron God Hanuman during the day and promised to be a good boy. His Kaku, Chotoma and Thamma sent him their love and best wishes. In the evening he invited his friends over for a loud party where everyone had a lot of fun and balloon fights. Everyone liked his birthday cake a lot too, and he also had one big slice of it. He reasoned that one can be a little lax with diets on one's birthday. After everyone left he continued dancing for sometimes until he was bundled away for his dinner. Oh, by the way, he got lot of love and kisses from Mom and Dad too. 

Right now he is trying to pull at Dad's Laptop mouse. All in all, he admits that he rather had a cool day. He sends all of you his love.

Where's the manual Dude?

The world has its priorities all mixed up!

Just imagine, every time I buy a TV (I recently bought my fourth one) the sales people hold a solemn ceremony and hand over to me the TV manual and stern directives that I am expected to read it cover to cover before switching on the damn contraption. C'mon how weird can you get!! To top it within a couple of days of the purchase, earnest looking people turn up at the door steps for a "demo". What do I look like? (OK that was not a smart question to ask, but the facts remain unchanged :)

Now get this, two weeks back we were handed our Rudra by the beaming hospital staff, but NO MANUAL!!! Neither my wife nor I know how to operate a baby yet, SO WHERE IS THE OWNERS MANUAL DUDE?? I mean the young fella still has a rather limited vocabulary comprising of gurgles, cries and grunts, so two way communication does become an issue. Why are they keeping the Manual away?

When the young guy cries, how do you make out whether it wants to be fed, needs a diaper change, needs to be cuddled and carried around? For all you know he might be trying to say that he wants to know the cricket score or feeling like discussing the intricacies of Madhava's bheda-vada doctrine. We frankly have no clue. Zero. Zilch.

So at every whimper from our little angel, this routine ensues
- check his diapers
- try to feed him
- cuddle him
- sing him songs
- read him the newspaper
- try to engage him in a game of chess
- make faces at him
- makes faces at each other
- tear out hairs (own)
- call mother, call mother in law, call neighbours mother in law just for the heck of it
- let him sing us to sleep

And the whole show starts again at the next whimper. Sweet Lord, what exciting times we live in!

I sometimes see him regarding us with kindly eyes of someone who knows that he is at the tender mercies of manual-less parents. He appears to be resigned to it in a philosophical kind of way. He smiles too :)

SO PLEASE, PLEASE if you know where the manual is, let us know!!!

The Stork came calling ...

In life there are milestones that mark your most important moments, moments that define you as you. Mona and I encountered one such on the morning of Friday the 24th and it has truly changed us forever.

How do you explain falling in love instantaneously? Chances are, my friend, that if you are not a parent, you are not going to even understand what I am talking about here.

Kanai blessed us with our first born, a baby boy, on the Friday, 24th Feb 2006. With his coming I have been motivated to redefine what life means to me:

Life is praying to Kanai for my son and for all those I love
Life is looking at my son's eyes and just wondering.
Life is holding him in my arms and watching him sleep
Life is a the few winks of sleep stolen between two nappy-changes at night
Life is watching people go to raptures over him.
Life is creating his email id and blog space.
Finally life is the feeling of contentment that I get just by being near him.

We have decided to call him Rudraditya, the Brilliance of Lord Shiva.

May Kanai's hand always be on him.

Waiting to see you...

In God's universe, souls or entities that are meant to be together ALWAYS seek each other out. Call it destiny, karma or a bond that's formed in previous births, it really happens. "The universe conspires to make it so". Wonderful isn't it...

I have seen signs of this conspiracy so often in my life. Each soul that I have been drawn to have led me to believe that such attachments could have come only through love that transcends lifetimes.

Much of my grown up life has been a search for some meaning for life..but in your presence I feel calmed and rested..I feel justified. There's so much to discover together, so much to talk about, so much to learn and so much fun to be had...

Yes, I am really waiting to see you..