The five svaras of Raag durga often inspires me.May be for this reason I am posting composition in Durga again here..
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Advaita,uniting me with you.....
Advatita ,the spiritual theory of non dualism is not just a religious commentary but a way of realizing the dominating truth which strewn across the mystical landscapes of India through the exquisite philosopher Adi Shankara.
He consolidated the doctrine of Advaita vedanta in his commentories on the "Prasthana Trayi" as "Brahma satyam jagat mithya,jivo Brahmaiva na parah".According to the philosophy the "supreme" cosmic energy(Brahman) is the only reality and everything else are illusionary.The concept proposes the non-dualism by uniting each individual soul is nothing but very minute representation of one ultimate spirit.
There is no need to explore for the existence of this chief power,to think of its shape,vastness,color,effects....
That is the intangible force holding the entire universe with miraculous energy to create lives,to support their existence,whether we believe it as gravitational force ,or oxygen or water,or food,it's all nothing but realization of the same omnipotent power in different perception.The only reality which is the creator,survivor,destroyer,which is the energy in the vibrant fire,in the whirlwind,in the waves ,in the magnanimous power of the universe,in the phantasm vibrations,in the sounds,lights,lives,dead... ...
The theory of non dualism laid foundation for harmony,peace and unity by not distinguishing me from you,treating everything existing ,evolving and finally ending from that eternal absolute,transcendental,omnipresent ,infinite spirit which we try to perceive in name of "God" .
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Life In Search Of......
When Rain Drops Fall On Me
When Blue Waves Touches The Glacier
When Dew Drops Fallen On Green Grass ... Touches My Feet In Winter....
When There Is Silence After Storm And Everything Is Brighter Than Before When There Is So Much Thundering In Sky When Day Becomes Night....
When Glow Worms Dances On The River Banks When I am Standing Near The Window a Moonlight falls On Me....
When The Snow Covered Peaks Starts Melting In The Summer Time... In every thing in every drop of "TEARS"
I m finding my self ....
Where Am I....??? Where is My "SOUL"...??? Where is My "LIFE"...??
Friday, August 19, 2011
When the end????.......
Barren Bastille, languished by unnerving monstrous accinge....rusted beatitudes.....Impelled to loose penetration.....limoused hopes searching where people left their polemics....those zetetic thoughts stopped intruding into the conscience of lives......manacled intuition confusing that anfractuous maze, making meander towards an unseen destiny.......
Religious imperialism contaminating consciousness ,constraining to attain imperturbable liberty.. The religious attrition is establishing a pandemic imperialism leading to emanation of never ending redoubtable crimes. It is really a loathsome spirit which effuses desolating inhuman acts.
How one can forget that detriment attack on Mumbai which enveloped the entire city with its cruel eccentricity for nearly 59 hours, proved to be one of the bloodiest pages in the history of religious butchery. And within a short span the city started speaking about another bloodthirstiness in the heart of terrorists.!
Those devastated buildings, withered corpses, obfuscating agony, roberant obsession, frozened tears, suffocation….sprinkled blood encompassed the whole environment, darkness captured the city glory… lost the charm with a quick boisterous invasion which extinguished the whole majesty …fumes spoke about the incident. The unbridled ebullition whisked the lives into a world of hell within few seconds.
The most intricate question is where this vicious spirit rooted? what makes the people to effuse the most desperate acts in name of religion?.......
Well the history speaks about the many such inhuman acardiac actions especially with respect to antimonarchical fights, cast discrepancy or disdained people stories.
The crusades against the Albigensian in the thirteenth century, proved to be the bitterest.. The sacrifices of the Goth and Mexican, and the revolting cruelties of the Polynesian and the negro of Dahomy, are scarcely equal to the savage butcheries
.
Sismondi's History of Crusades against the Albigenses, remind a passage from Wheaton's Northmen. "The religion of Odin stimulated the thirst of blood by promising the joys of Valhalla (heaven) as the reward of those who fell gloriously in battle." Which is the better, the religion of the Northman or the Catholic? The former has at least the redeeming feature of bravery, while the last is distinguished only for its ferocity. Mahomet might be justly indignant if compared with Simon de Montfort.
Prescott, speaking of the Aztec or Mexican human sacrifices and the Inquisition, gives the preference to the former; for the Inquisition, he remarks, not only "branded its victims with infamy in this world, but consigned them to everlasting perdition in the next." he says: "Few will sympathize, probably, with the sentence of Torquemada, who concludes his tale of woe by coolly dismissing the soul of the victim (of Mexican sacrifice) to sleep with those of his false gods in hell."
The massacre of St. Bartholomew is another terrible proof of the power of religious faith to convert man into a fiend. Probably thirty or forty thousand victims perished in Paris and in the provinces in this one butchery! And it would be almost impossible to describe the variety of forms in murder, or to give a catalogue of the cruelties practiced. Even children of ten or twelve years engaged in the work of blood, and were seen cutting the throats of heretic infants!
The revolting spectacles of the auto-da-fe, continued for so long a period, could not fail to have the most hardening influence on Spaniards feelings. In Spain, as in Italy, religion is associated with crime, and protected (protects it?) by its sanctions. Thieves and prostitutes have their images of the Virgin, their prayers, their holy water, and their confessions. Murderers find a sanctuary in the churches and convents. Crimes of the blackest character are left unpunished in consequence of the immunities granted to the clergy."
The religious cruelty not only succumb the lives but will have emasculating effects on the mainstay of people.People who lost faiths,hopes ,intuition and everything are living in some obscure obsession, unspoken fights ,dried up desires, thoughts bonded with fear, confused conscience , silent cry ,proving dumb evidences for the past misery. The same red stained blood flows in each ,the same wind blows for all, the same planet shelters all its creations, and the same evolution goes on….Still people believe in unproven differentiations and illogical beliefs and practices.
A lot of introspecting questions converging again to one more question…..Still we cannot let our hopes perished, should live in an obfuscating expediency to emancipate the nation from the devil perils in the name of religion, God and rational discrimination..
ನಾನುತುಂಬಾ lucky.ನನ್ನಅಪ್ಪ ,ಅಮ್ಮನಿಂದಲೇ ಹೊರಜಗತ್ತಿನೊಂದಿಗೆಪ್ರೀತಿಯ ಪರಿಭಾಷೆಯಲ್ಲಿಸ್ಪಂಧಿಸುವುದನ್ನು ಕಲಿತಿದ್ದೆ .ಅವರುನನಗೆತಪ್ಪಲ್ಲದಯಾವುದೇವಿಷಯಕ್ಕೂ restrict ಮಾಡುತ್ತಿರಲಿಲ್ಲ. ನನ್ನಮತ್ತು 'Tommy' ಯಆಮಧುರಬಾಂಧವ್ಯನೋಡಿಬಾಗಿಲುಹತ್ತಿರನಿಂತುಮುಗುಳುನಗುತ್ತಿದದ್ದನ್ನನಾನುತಿಳಿದಿದ್ದೆ. ಆಮೇಲೆಅಮ್ಮ Tommy ಗೆಅರ್ಧಯಾಕೆಅಂತಅದಕ್ಕೆಪ್ರತ್ಯೇಕವಾಗಿಯೇತಿಂಡಿಕೊಡುತಿದ್ಲುನಂಗೆ. ನೋಡುತಿದ್ದಂತೆಯೇ ಸುಮಾರು ಒಂದು ವರ್ಷಕಳೆದಿತ್ತು.ಪುಟ್ಟ Tommy ಮರಿಈಗ handsome boy ಆಗಿದ್ದ:).......
ಕಾರಣಾಂತರಗಳಿಂದನಾವುಆಮನೆಯನ್ನುಬಿಟ್ಟುಬೇರೆಮನೆಗೆಹೋಗಬೇಕಾಗಿಬಂತು.ಆಹೊಸಮನೆಈಗಿದ್ದಮನೆಯಿಂದಸುಮಾರುಒಂದು km ದೂರವಿತ್ತು . ಅದೊಂದುದಿನನನಗೆ Tommy ಗೆತಿಂಡಿಕೊಡೋದುಮರತೇಹೋಗಿತ್ತು .ಅಪ್ಪನಜೊತೆಹೊಸಮನೆನೋಡಲುಹೋಗಿಬಿಟ್ಟಿದ್ದೆ ............. ಆಹೊಸಮನೆಯ gate ಹತ್ತಿರವಾಪಾಸುಬರುವಷ್ಟರಲ್ಲಿಒಂದುಆಶ್ಚರ್ಯಕಾದಿತ್ತು. ಅದೇ ಮಿಂಚುನೋಟದ Tommy ಹೊರಗಡೆನನ್ನನ್ನುಹುಡುಕುತಿತ್ತು.ಅದೊಂದುಅದ್ಭುತ !!..ಅದೆಂಥಸ್ಪರ್ಶಜ್ಞಾನದಿಂದಅದುಒಂದು km ದೂರನಾವಿರುವಸರಿಯಾದಸ್ತಳಕ್ಕೆಬಂದುತಲುಪಿತ್ತು amazing!!!...
ಮನುಷ್ಯನಮನಸ್ಸುಹೊಸತನಕ್ಕೆತುಡಿಯುವುದುಸಹಜ. ಆದರೆಆಹೊಸತನದಹುಡುಕಾಟದಲ್ಲಿಹಳೆಯಅದೆಷ್ಟೋಅನರ್ಘ್ಯ ಗಳನ್ನ ಮರೆತುಹೋಗುವುದುದುರಂತ. ಒಂದುವಾರದಹತ್ತಿರಆನಾಯಿನನ್ನನ್ನುಹುಡುಕಿಕೊಂಡುಪ್ರತಿನಿತ್ಯವೂಒಂದು km ಪ್ರಯಾಣಬೆಳಸಿನಮ್ಮಹೊಸಮನೆಯತ್ತಬರುತಿತ್ತು. ಆದರೆಅದ್ಯಾವುದೋಒಂದುಹೊಸತಾದಜಗತ್ತುನನ್ನನ್ನುಅಕ್ರಮಿಸಿಬಿಟ್ಟಿತ್ತು. ಆಹೊತ್ತಿಗೆಅದು it's not of so important ಅನ್ನಿಸಿತ್ತು ...ಅರಿವಾಗುವಮುನ್ನನಾನುನನ್ನಹಳೆಯಗೆಳೆಯನನ್ನಯಲ್ಲೋ ignore ಮಾಡಿಬಿಟ್ಟಿದ್ದೆ......
ಹೊಸತನದಸೆಲೆಯಿಂದಬಿಡಿಸಿಕೊಂಡನನ್ನಪುಟ್ಟಹೃದಯಮತ್ತೆಹುಡುಕಲಾರಂಭಿಸಿತ್ತು Tommy ಯನ್ನ. ಅಪ್ಪನಜೊತೆಹಳೆಮನೆಯರಸ್ತೆಯಗಲ್ಲಿಗಳಲ್ಲಿಹುಡುಕಿದರೂ Tommy ಮತ್ತೆಸಿಗಲೇಇಲ್ಲ ......
ಜೀವನಯಾವಾಗಲುಒಂದುವಿಚಿತ್ರ illusion ಹಿಂದೆಓಡುತ್ತದೆ...ಕನಸುಗಳುಮನುಷ್ಯನಚೈತನ್ಯವನ್ನುಪುಷ್ಟಿಗೊಳಿಸುವುದುನಿಜ.ಆದರೆಅದೆಷ್ಟೋಬಾರಿಕನಸುಗಳುವಾಸ್ತವವನ್ನುಬಿಟ್ಟುಕೈಗೆಸಿಗದಮರೀಚಿಕೆಯಬೆನ್ನುಹತ್ತಿಓಡುತ್ತಿರುತ್ತದೆ.even a millionaire wants to be a billionaire!!... ಸಾಕಾಗುವಷ್ಟುಓಡಿಯಲ್ಲವನ್ನೂಪಡೆದರೂಮನಸ್ಸುಒಂದುಹಂತದಲ್ಲಿಹಳೆಯಮಾಸಿದದರ್ಪಣಹಿಡಿದುಆನಿರಂತರಓಟದಲ್ಲಿಕಳೆದುಕೊಂಡಅದೆಷ್ಟೋಹಳೆಯಅಪೂರ್ವವಸ್ತುಗಲಳನ್ನ ,ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿಗಳನ್ನ , ನೆನಪುಗಳನ್ನ ಸೂಕ್ಷ್ಮಸಂವೇದನೆಯಬಾಗಿಲುತೆರೆದುಪ್ರತಿಬಿಂಬಿಸಿದಾಗ ಒಂದುಕ್ಷಣಕ್ಕೆ ' something missing!' ಅನ್ನಿಸುವಷ್ಟರಲ್ಲಿಜೀವನದಪಥಇರುವುದೆಲ್ಲವಬಿಟ್ಟುಇರದುದರೆಡೆಗೆಪ್ರಯಾಣಬೆಳಸುತ್ತದೆ...
The greatest tragedy lies, while in satisfying all fantasy dreams ,searching for unrealistic happiness, ignoring all those things which once cherished our life before,finally ending up where even if we want we cannot get them back again....
A little girl and her mother were crossing a bridge.The mother was kind of scared so she asked her little daughter: "Sweetheart, please hold my hand so that you don't fall into the river. The little girl said: "No, mom. You hold my hand." What's the difference? Asked the puzzled mother. "There's a big difference,"replied the little girl. If I hold your hand and something happens to me, chances are that I may let your hand go. But if you hold my hand, I know for sure that no matter what happens, you will never let my hand go." In any relationship, the essence of trust is not in its bind, but in its bond. So hold the hand of the person whom you love rather than expecting them to hold yours.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
इंतज़ार................
इंतज़ार बिना अदुरी हैं ज़िन्दगी इंतज़ार ही जीवन हैं कुछ तलाश ,कुछ चाहतें कुछ सिफारिश,और कुछ गुजारिशें
क्वाब को पूरी करने की इंतज़ार लम्हें कैद होते देखने की इंतज़ार सप्नोकी कसौटी हैं इंतज़ार निराशाकी नयी उमंग हैं इंतज़ार
यादों में सम्हाजाता हैं हर इंतज़ार
सुका दर्ति को उस पहली बूंद का इंतज़ार काले बादलों को सूरज की पहली किरण का रंगीला पतंग को आस्मान चूने का इंतज़ार पोदोंको पानी की अन्मोल स्पर्श का
उस तंडी बारिश में एक cup चाय का इंतज़ार कांम पूरा होने पर किसी की बदाई का किसी मासूम को चाँद दर्ति उतरने का इंतज़ार और किसी तन्हा आंकों को पहली प्यार की गुजारिश का
उन् नन्हे कानोंको school की लम्बी गंटी बजने का इंतज़ार माँ को उस्की लाड़ गर आने का तंडी हवांको सागर की लेहरों से केल्ने का इंतज़ार पैड़ोंको उसी तंडी हवांको चूने का
हर एक पल कर्ती हैं ज़िन्दगी की यादों में सम्हेट ने की इंतज़ार आशायोंको पूरी होतें हुवें देक्ने का हर क्वाब की पिचें हैं इंतज़ार
वक्त गुजरता जाता हैं,फिर बे हम करेंगे ..........
हर रास्ते की आगे
हर रात के बाद नयी सुबह का इंतज़ार हर बूरे के बाद कुछ अच्चायीं का कुछ लम्हों को रोंक ले कुछ पल के लिए क्यूंकि इंतज़ार ही जीवन हैं इंतज़ार बिना अदुरी हैं ज़िन्दगी
Thursday, July 15, 2010
life calling
Dilating conjure encompass each creature with its roberant captive power.
Mazarine above that ebony tree Dwaine, accompanying seizeless time sprinkling the same hard branches with gorgeous sparkling beams .Swarthy land forgot those robust rifts created, now revamping to verdant again. The dried up hopes fledging with new colors each day to have the best.
Yet, one can’t go off, need to listen after all its ‘LIFE CALLING!!!!’ man…
Desires flicker floriating new thoughts imbibing into flouncing minds. Still those flippant talks, unknown failures, agony, eternal fights to survive fling mawkish maze. Yet each day a new day!!!, the same old linoleum getting new colors waking up the tired flimsy mind to revoke and run behind an unknown voice…..
The thorny pains often squeeze the tolerance. Still we need to stay in front like a strong hundred year old Banyan tree .
The broad lane with its two sides so bifurcated, some are gobbling everything having dire imperialism enjoying the great glory, while other languid lives still searching for mainstay in that gloom for their survival.
The disarray justice of life lavished some faces, disdained many creating a great barrier on its strong foundation of unresolved disparity.
Dismal eyes still having eternal expectations in spite of nothing,no one to hold those wrinkled hands in their evening of life.
Still some innocent dreams sparkling through those souls, awaiting new dawn believing the presence of some divine power in its vengeance scatters darkness, and woe through the dreary regions of misery.
Whatever it is the existence and agency of some roberant spirit which everything virtue and efficacy, without which there can be no life, no sensibility, no energy, no new hopes sprouting ,no thoughts emerging, no dreams spawning.
The captive power still harvesting in every lives the ‘NEW’ with its Miracling magnanimous magic, enlivening each day to wait for something good, sprinkling the dark lanewith its spinning corpuscles of new hopes, changing the dogma with unbelievable evolution ,making everyone to ever listen to that unknown call by ‘LIFE’.
