The Spirit of Spirituality

As I wait with bated breath for yet another didactic, informative lecture to get over, I wonder what kind of difference spirituality is going to make to a management trainee!? I know, I know....it’s the crux of a sound and well-balanced soul. The professor is throwing light on things like vaasna and swadharma, I wonder why an Electrical Engineer from an Ivy League University is throwing around jargon from Sanskrit Vedas. Maybe he has got all the answers of his life and is trying to help us find ours. Uh-Huh. All this spiritual gyaan sounds good, but it may not necessarily work in the real world. Not atleast for me. Like when the less deserving guy gets a Rs.6 lac p.a. job and u don’t get it, you are dejected, not coz you are greedy for the moolah, but coz that’s the only thing humming in your head when you have to repay a 25 lac loan and the deadline on your house mortgage rings like the death knell of your peace of mind. Can any spiritual guru relieve me of that stress when they talk about breathe-in and breathe-out techniques? I don’t think so! That doesn’t help destress here. Absolutely inapplicable! If it were indeed possible, I would’ve tried it for sure.
They say ‘sex and money is what makes the world go round’ and rightly so. I’ll tell you what spirituality is, in the real world. It’s a rat race and everyone is running to outdo the others, you run and run, but when you are just about to reach the finish line, you realize that it just got extended. You run some more to chase the finish line yet again, and as you near the winning post, it gets further extended. So, you keep chasing unforeseen goals until one day you reach the finale and with one call of collapse, your life ceases to exist. That’s modern day spirituality. Now that’s what I call ‘Welcome to the real world!’ You can’t learn driving unless you get behind the wheel. Likewise, strategic or contextual planning aint subjects that can be verbally taught, they come from the throbbing grind under the wheel of life.
I can’t take at face value the idea of the absence of luck that some spiritual guru is trying to put across when I’ve seen a woman burnt alive in the shanties behind my house for no fault of hers. Or I don’t know what else can explain a 5 year old kid losing his arms whilst playing near a blast site in suburban Mumbai. Did they deserve it? Whoa! I didn’t know it was his karma to be disabled at a tender age of five //speaking in spiritual terms//. It is never the rich kid’s karma to be born to a billionaire or the less fortunate underdog’s to be born to a menial labourer.
So, no matter how many art of living sessions we attend or how many times we flip through the Book of Answers, we can’t deny the fact that life revolves around what we pursue. For as long as we live, we know that once the goal achieved and the milestone accomplished, we’re gonna miss the journey that we trailed.

Random Musings

As I get ready to wrap up yet another day of assignments, projects, test prep, words unsaid, time lost, friends not met, loved ones not called, good books not read, conversations not indulged in, I wonder if it’s really worth the pursuit. The pursuit reminds me of a conversation that I had with a male friend, whilst in the mood for some serious introspection. We pursue a job to sustain a life and family and then we give up the reason that was the very cornerstone of the primary activity.
So we run for a good college to find a good job. We run for a good job so we may find a good partner. Then we run for money to fulfill material desires. We run behind the kids that we reared with great delight. Then we run for our ambitious dreams like a visit to the Eiffel or a ride in a Mustang. Whilst we are busy chasing a string of these, we fail to see the world that passes us by, the simple joys and humble bliss that walked by.

That sets my head humming with Frost’s immortal line:

The woods are lovely dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep

So whilst I follow my treasured trail
Of needs, wants and my holy grail
I shan’t forget what was ingrained
About life and bliss and karma incarnate

Who’s greater: the Politician or his agenda!?

Now, this one thing really makes me wonder. A case in point would be the Marathi Manoos agenda of the Maratha bigwigs, namely the MNS and the Shiv Sena.
The Shiv Sena chooses to pay homage to the great Maratha warrior, Chattrapati Shivaji Raje, by naming the party after him. As the self-proclaimed Sena of Shivaji fights for the cause of the underdog Maharashtrians and goes about vandalizing property and terrorizing people whilst insisting on changing names of the venerated VT Station and the International Airport after the celebrated kingpin, it’s surprising to see that a life-size poster of Bal Thackerey, commanding chief of the Sena overtly overshadows a miniscule statue of Shri Raje Shivaji stationed below it at the Shiv Sena Bhavan, the Sena stronghold.
This really sets me thinking. Are they indeed paying respect to the cause that they’re fighting for?
Now, I would really like to know if the Shiv Sena and the MNS actually practice what they preach what with Raj Thackerey’s son enrolling for French as his 2nd language instead of Marathi for his State Board Exams. That’s either a case of complete disregard for one’s parent’s aspirations or it’s a clear exhibit of an agenda solely structured for populist terms without belief in the party’s convictions.
Whatever be the case, I don’t blame them. Indian Politics is hypocrisy personified.
The voters must practice discretion whilst making wise decisions keeping such things in mind.

Crystal maze indeed

Mysterious as it has always been, it never fails to stump or surprise me. It’s perfect one particular day, and so flawed the very next day. You’re trying to set things right and suddenly another boulder comes and hits you totally off guard. And you’re trying to balance, trying not to get hit, but you’re so panicky under the oh-so-immense pressure and stress, that you lose control out of paranoia. Its not for nothing that they say: its easy to fall prey to it, but so much more difficult to stick through it.
Moral of the story: we fall in love with imperfection coz beauty lies in flaws and resurrection.
It’s like a good fuck that ain’t worth the pleasure without the pain.
Now, you know what I’m talking about. The sacrosanct feeling called Love!
Still haven’t figured out the mechanics but I’m not trying either.
P.S: Don’t read much into it. This ain’t my story. I’m just the narrator. :)

Service to man is service to God

I only wish that G.J.Reddy, Karnataka’s tourism minister could discern the depth of the above words. If only he could understand that a diamond-studded gold crown worth Rs 42 crore offered to Lord Venkateswara at Tirumala does not in itself qualify to serve as profound devotion to the almighty. I’m sure his piety would have been much highly appreciated by the deity had he made a more meaningful donation.A Rs.42 crore would have been well-spent in the glory of God had it given shelter to the homeless, food to the starving, medicines to the ailing, reparation to the disabled or tragedy-stricken or a better life to the impoverished. One can only hope that the Tirumala Temple trust acts in the interest of god’s will and ensures that such donations find their proper place in the homes of the less fortunate and underprivileged by way of charity trusts and NGOs. After all, God cannot be thanked for all his graciousness by adorning his idols by gold and emeralds, but by noble deeds done for allah ke bande.

Ever wondered why !?

Ever wondered why the sun goes down, why the horizon looks pastel orange like the masterstroke of a maestro, why it’s always visible, yet unreachable. Ever thought of why you’re running short of time, why you’re chasing your dreams like they were always your own when the truth remains that most of them are just an illusive manifestation of what the world perceives utopian.
Do you know for sure that the person you’re in love with is really the ONE or if they’re just painting a surreal picture of the vision called the perfect companionship?
Have you gauged pre-hand with some magical tool, the success that the new job will bring to you, or the stairway you’re going to take to reach your coveted zenith.
Do you ask yourself why you’re taking up a particular roadmap in life, why you’re investing money in an SIP for a rainy day whilst consciously not spending a single penny on your aged parents who reared you to this day?
Have you asked yourself why you wish to spend half your life’s savings to buy a house by the sea front, when you don’t even have the time to bask in the glory of the expensive landscape that you bought?
Do you ever think about why you don’t have the time to give a call to that long-lost friend or visit your sister who lives barely 8 miles away unless its an occasion or an eventuality that really demands the effort.
Ever found why your colleague at work is behaving in a certain indifferent way or if you’re friends or family do not approve of a certain decision that you’ve made?
Ever thought why the greed becomes more at every subsequent stage, from junior to senior executive to deputy manager or creative head and higher up, whatever be your organizational or life pedestal hierarchy.
For these and more, I never sincerely contemplated or sought reasons for. They remain unanswered, like countless others never pondered, never asked.
We live an existence whose parameters of glorious goodness and the negation of that are defined by a worldly protocol.
All our lives, we pursue a fortune, that we find it at the doorstep to heaven is improbably opportune.
Like the scriptures say, it doesn’t matter why you did something or how you did it, but what you did that left behind the hallmark of goodwill that shall be carried forward centuries hence.
But hopeless as it may sound, I shall continue to be human like the rest of the species living up to the worldview that accompanied my upbringing.
As of now. shirking it off seems like a burden in itself.

Political premises

The Indian Political tamasha is on display in all its color and splendor yet again. While, we the educated, self-proclaimed upmarket lot with the white collar jobs might take to cribbing and complaining about the ill-managed country with goons for politicians whose only claim to fame is raking up controversial issues to entice the minority or the slum-dwelling populace, it’s time to do a reality check. I do not wish to use the oft-repeated lines on television talk shows or democracy debates. My only intent is to introspect as part of the former lot as to why I did not, like the rest of my fraternity, cast a legitimate vote or raise a voice or to do the least, put a request for whatever grievance I had with my local councilor or MLA. If I am so sophistically educated in the best convent in the city or an engineer or a postgraduate from the oh-so-prestigious Bombay University, then why did I not put to civic as well as civil use my suffrage rights. Why did I not practice the woman suffrage rights that were fought for by American women in the 18^th century, that travelled around the globe in the form of women liberation movements. Why did I not bother to scribble on a small piece of paper at the polling booth instead of simply complaining about the bad roads, the loudspeakers used by the slum inhabitants in my area post 10 pm or the ill-structured traffic management system and delayed flyover constructions adding to the traffic woes. These questions are rhetorical questions meant for all the well-educated, sophisticated, middle-class or elite Indians like me who talk about taking up jobs in multinationals to shape the future of the country.

A little bit of psychoanalysis has helped me realize that we are shaken towards taking an initiative only when the need arises. The sudden surge in the upper-middle class and the elite voters (atleast by the count of registrations so far) is not solely due to campaigns like Jaago Re or Lead India ’09, but because 26/11 brought to the fore a need for security for us presumptuously secure urban Indians in the form of a rude shock. Why do you think politicians gamble in vote-bank politics while playing the card of religion and the unalloyed love for their matrubhoomi by fighting for privileges, reservations and jobs for the localites and the downtrodden? Simply because these people reciprocate with needs. The vote banks need the politicians and they in turn need the vote banks. The requirement is mutual and so is the relationship. They need the politicians for better sanitation facilities, for uninterrupted supply of water and electricity, for jobs in government undertakings, for labour rights and minimum wages. We never needed them since we have always been happily ensconced in our cosy shells with an incessant supply of water, electricity, basic municipal facilities and the other much-coveted luxuries that can be bought with the flash of money. We did not quite need a robust political and intelligence system devoid of bureaucracy, corruption and red tape until we saw a colleague at work who lost his arms in the train bomb blasts on 7/11 or a cousin who lost her husband at the age of 27 to the terrorist attacks at Taj, so much for blowing her hard-earned money for a birthday dinner at the Golden Dragon. So, the poor girl’s tragic loss has led me to rethink. It could be me. It could be you. It could be any one of us. It happened 16 years back. My parents were shaken when my mother’s friend lost 3 male family members, her father, brother and husband in the ’93 bomb blast at the Passport office. No consolation or compensation can ever reimburse her loss. We didn’t make an attempt to move out of the stupor then. But every now and then I see an action replay of the blood-stained gory death and destruction, of injustice to an individual or to a sect of people, to the widowed wife of a defense personnel or the defenseless mother of a riot victim or a prisoner of war, a Jessica Lall or a Nitish Katara, I feel the urge to inch forward, to do the needful, to do what is necessary, to protect the interest of every citizen of the country. Need incites action. We must not forget that we need efficient representatives at the Centre and the State. Because, if we don’t, then redundant reservations will continue to haunt us as a provision in the Constitution of India for another 60 years, another Tytler will walk away scot-free from the Court premises after having orphaned hundreds of children in distressed families in another state that might relive the nightmare of Punjab or Gujarat, another Banerjee might put at stake the means of livelihood of thousands of decrepit farmers and laborers by driving out an industrialist who came with the blueprint of financially empowering the state and its people.

I drew inspiration from a man from the Dharavi slums in Mumbai who educated the urban literate Indians about section 17-C in the voters discretion list on National Television while being interviewed by a reporter from NDTV. So, I must thank with complete humility this man, probably an unskilled laborer, for enlightening me and breaking my myth about being empowered just because I’m educated. So I learnt my first real lesson of democracy from him: education alone does not empower a people. For empowering themselves, citizens must cast the all-important vote and make rightful, sensible use of the civil rights conferred by the Union of India by electing the right representatives. I remember my Civics teacher in school giving us directives about the election process in the country. She went on to elaborate ‘The heads of state are merely our constitutional representatives. We elect them and they speak on behalf of us in the central and the state assembly. They are liable to answering us, implementing reforms for us and safeguarding us the citizens of the country. They are in a position of power because of us. We give them the power that they exercise.’ An afterword that I’d like to add: cast the vote irrespective of the need because you never know when the need shall arise.

Let’s implement in deeds the respect for the country that ‘Jai Hind!’ truly encompasses.