On Freedom

Epilogue of novel The Exponent, pg.194

What is written cannot be made unwritten and whatever you want from your heart, God himself brings to you. A lot of people will encounter in your ways to misguide you from your righteous path. Don’t give ears to others except words of your heart. Similarly, sometime you see the world as a dream where you see the people who are crying, people who are full of happiness. What you have to do, is nothing. Stay away from your emotions whether they are good or bad. Both of them are very cruel. Bad one makes you crying in same time and good one later. In the end, both of them make sweet memories. And that is the beauty of life.

Live how you want, do what you want. It should not hurt or interfere in anyone’s freedom. You freedom should not collide with others’ freedom. Hence for the goodness of all, be the example and if cannot be the example then set an example. If you want to free from yourself then make others’ free. Everybody has equitable right on freedom. If I love my freedom, I shall love your freedom. In my dream I got to know how to fulfil my dreams.

For my journey, this book does not stop here. For your journey, this is inception.

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Humanity is above the religion

History of the wars is greatly rich because of its abundance. They are unstoppable. In the root, human and only human is sitting. The fight between two nations happens due to some adamant, stubborn and rigid-head person. There are a few who play with life and limbs of their own nation. In the name of God, In the name of religion, we fought and we will fight in future. God is indivisible but the religion divided him. Religion is our own set of rules, which is not made or written by God. The religion is the harvest which requires a lot of blood.

You cannot reach God if you set yourself bound into fetters of the religion. Oh! Human, if you really want to know the truth, if you really want to reach God, You have to see above the religion.

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Who is a best teacher?

ARE TEACHERS IN BEST UNIVERSITIES?

A story of a genius potter(maker of earthenware) From THE EXPONENT

The summer was horribly hot and was giving a great challenge to everyone till one’s endurance. As of now, I was graduating far from home, I had no means to chill the water to fight with such a hot weather. So, with my friends I made a sagacious decision to buy earthenware to be used as water reservoir. I wanted to use the power of nature to cool the water up to the temperature to quench our thirsts in such summer. I collected my friends from their places and as somebody (a passerby probably knowing about that place) told us that the potter was not far from us so we dropped the plan to go by our bicycles. Well, we all were in a city with broad roads and in a civilization that knew nothing more than ‘running’, and I knew that earthenware won’t be easily available in close limits. However we were in the exurb of the city, we walked about fifteen minutes and saw a hilarious scene of the countryside. I was amazed how near I was to such scenes. Sometime the voice of the cuckoo was clearly audible. The zephyr was hitting my face calmly. Every breath that filled my lungs was giving me the freshness that I missed in cities. I did not see any edifice as was in cities.It was a great experience for the eyes too. The road was narrow and me with my friends were moving like an ant line. The precinct of the fields seemed to be of great hopscotch game that God had to play. Farmers working in fields were watching us. I thought they must have not seen us that way. It was not a bedlam.

‘How long we have to cover’, one of my friend asked as he was not comfortable with such strolls.

‘How could I know, I am also being here for the first time.’ I replied and lifted my shoulder when he gazed at me.

‘If I could meet that person again, I will break his legs.’ He roared.

‘Why are you so angry, we are just about to reach, see there are some houses’, I said. This way I wanted to calm him down. He saw weirdly as if he had understood my motive. I just made a curve on my face. After twenty five minutes of tedious walking to the same direction all of us came to know that we did a big mistake by not coming by bicycles (should I say it is a big mistake as the roads were uneven and it was not easy to run a bicycle on). I tried to drop the plan to make a purchase this time and proposed to retreat. We already had wasted lot of time in searching so decided to give little more time to make it all worthy. After another fifteen minutes of walk, finally I saw the place where the earthen-wares were sold. The shades of the trees seemed to be like lollipops lying on the road. Yellow flowers of mustard were dancing on the music of the nature. Sunflowers were ready to kiss the sun.

It was a small shop or I can say there was no shop at all. Earthen-wares were lying on the ground and well managed.

There was no shading on it as they were to enjoy the open sky. Those were different in size and shape, and their placement was making a big canvas of modern art. They were placed so closed that a little shake might make them go haywire. A test of functionality of nose had also been done as I could easily felt smell of the wet soil. I stretched my arms and took a turn. The panoramic view was just like a movie scene. There was nobody to keep a watch. Probably I was in such a place where theft does not happen. As I was known to my place, where I was staying during my graduation, if you leave anything unattended from your goods, you might be in view of losing your goods. I had the slightest idea of how would he be looking even I ran my gaze in all possible direction to locate the potter just like a wise detective. But this detective had no clue of looks of the potter. I also asked the fellow shopkeepers but they failed to give any idea of the potter’s location. Suddenly I saw a man coming from shop in front of the potter shop. He came close to me and before I could say something.

‘Yes’, ‘You want a pot’, said the man.

‘Of course, we are here for this purpose, but we are unable to locate the potter’, said I.

‘I am the potter.’

‘Oh, you’, ‘but why you were not here in your shop, somebody might have damaged these.’

‘I was watching these from there, and those which are to be damaged would be damaged, we cannot do anything about it.’

‘Okay, well, show me some of them’, I said in a sapless voice. We were enervated enough. Stroll made us green about the gills. With his sentence ‘we cannot do anything about it’ I felt radiations of negative energy. I just felt and ignored it, what else I could do with him. Sometimes some things must be neglected. I just did that.

‘You seems to be thirsty, please wait here I am bringing some water for you.’ He said. He just said what any one of us was about to say in next minute. He brought some earthen tumblers. He offered us the water with some treacle. We ate it and drank the water hurriedly. I felt easy. The treacle gave me more pleasure than the sweets that I ever tested. Time and place is what matters. That ‘time’ we were tired and ‘place’ was one of best in nature.

‘Look at this one’, he handed me a small sized pot.

'But this is very small’, I saw that in every angles and said it with a delay.

‘It is the biggest one we usually make, but if you need a bigger one than you would have to come day after tomorrow, also, please come after twelve PM’, He cleared.

My mind was vacillating in deciding what to do and what not to do.

‘I will come the day after tomorrow’, I said and turned to my friends who were standing silent. They made a face giving an expression of disapproval. I did not ask them to come again as I knew that they won’t come. One of them made the face like an eruptive volcano. Even I tried to convince them but no consensus was made. I decided to come alone. It is a very simple rule if you want to see the preparation and actual situation of something, be there before time. I reached a little before the time. I was interested in seeing how he had made them. Ultimately the pot was prepared that we usually see but my curiosity was only to see the transformation. I followed the same way I had chosen the last time. I had all the experiences that I had before. Calm air, God’s hopscotch game, lollipops, yellow flowers and same eye contact of sunflowers and sun. Neither was I jumping on anyone’s footsteps nor anyone jumping on mine. I reached behind the shop where he was sitting with clay stock. A broken canister with the water was lying near him. He poured the water into the clay stock. I saw him kneading it. He was unruffled and perfectly devoted to his work. He could not feel my presence; he was making it as Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni working on his sculpture. Or any musician was working on some specific genre. I did not want to interrupt him in this connectedness of artiste and artefact. I thought perhaps he did not make my earthen-ware which he promised to give me today. If he was starting on mine then probably I was going to be angry with him. How did he forget his promise? Forgetting the promise was not the reason alone, after all I had come on foot. But his attachment abated my anger. I wished to take it willy-nilly.

‘Oh you have come’, he said. I did not say a single word, just stared at him.

‘Yours is complete and I just brought it out from the oven, let it cool to be carried’, he added. I waved my head in affirmation and stood near him. He sat near his wooden wheel where he had already put some kneaded clay. He put a lump of clay in the centre and rotated the wheel. The lump of clay was just like somebody dancing on the wheel.

It has no shape, no design and I had no idea how it could be transformed into a pot. Then I saw the magic of the fingers of the potter whom I beheld a geek. I saw the coordination of the speed with the finger movement and speeding up the wheel after some attenuation in speed. Betwixt, to speed up the wheel he used his wand. Movements of his hands were like somebody is guiding an orchestra. His fingers were dancing with the lump. It had started taking the shape, the lump of the clay had been turned into a pot. Less than fifteen minutes I had seen this transformation. I flabbergasted and it seems to be a magic and potter as a magician who just touched the wheel with his wand and pot became conjured. If lump of clay and the fingers of the potter were two dancers then here one dancer just changed another dancer into something else. I just witnessed a phenomenal dance. Potter, the director of this all, the simplest than simple personality was affecting me.

Some tricks and feats are beautifully performed in front of my eyes that they seem to be very simple. But in reality they are not. It was his usual work. However it was marvellous for me. In it, for him, there was nothing to feel proud for. He put the newly made pot nearby, glanced at it.

He saw his painted hands with mud. Nearby he had some other pots, he picked some of them, patted them and put them back to their places. He washed his hands and rubbed them with the scarf he had hung on his neck. He brought the pot that he had made on my demand. When I saw my pot I just recalled all the depictions I just had seen recently.

The process of making the simple things seemed to be simple or sometimes very complex. I wanted to have a word with him so I went to him.

‘You are an artist by nature, you turned the lump of clay into a beautiful pot’, I admired. But he did not say any word, just gave me a smile. Every connection has a meaning. I wanted to understand his state of mind how he was so connected to his act. Every artist, when does the artwork whatever it is, undergoes perpetual benediction. I had never thought I am going to meet a preceptor. ‘How could you do it with such perfection’, I asked.

He said;

I see all the things as I am, whether this is lump of the clay, the wheel and the wand. If you want to create something, just imagine about it. You imagine yourself as a helping object to attain your goal. Then be transformed into it. I first become the lump, then the wheel, then the wand.

All these are what I am. I am the movement of the wheel. I am the coordination amongst all. Finally I am a pot in your hand.

Very beautifully, he interpreted himself and why would he not when he was able to coordinate and talk to inanimate things like his wheel and wand that he ever considered as himself while being into the journey of transformation. You exhibit your ‘real power’ when you recognize yourself. The lesson I learnt from the potter. Your finesse in any of the art is your ‘real power’. His words gave me the real success mantra. He was not so popular, superficially he was also not successful in the views of the world, but in a real sense he was successful. Do not judge someone so quickly, it gives only pain. I just wanted to slap hard to myself, how I could judge such person a geek. Now he was not a potter standing in front of me in a scruffy dress with no slippers in his feet, rather he was a person blessed with a beautiful mind adorning beautiful thoughts. He truly was the salt of the earth. He was short in height but it had no significance and could not stop me to bow my head in respect. What a teacher wants, is respect, nothing else? I knew this.

He patted and blessed me for my coming life. I told I will visit him very soon. I was going with that pot in my hands. Now that was not an insignificant pot anymore. That was the precious gift of the potter whom I was never going to forget throughout my life. I lived the day. I got a pot of wisdom from the potter which my friends missed. This time I did not see any sign or signs were there but I was not paying the attention. I met a preceptor. Every time you add something knowledgeable to yourself, you become confident. You are transformed.The breeze made me calmer. The farmers were again staring at me; they were thinking I was the boy just passing by. But I have transformed which those farmers could not see. There was no ant line like before but my shadow had become long and trailing me. The sticks of the lollipops had become long. And great game of hopscotch was still being played by the God. Yellow flowers were still dancing. The fight between the sunflower and the sun was continued.

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End of Desires? is it possible?

Love is important and is the force that causes inner moment of the world. The pure goodness of love can be felt when you are loved by someone. It is love only that teaches what love is and what it is meant for. We are meant to spread this energy of God to the people, to the world, every moment of time. This is the gist of all the religious books.

When you were born, the occasion was celebrated as a festival; you make your life a success story. You help other lives to be a success story. When you possess a life like that why don’t you plan to make your death a festival? The moment of eternal satisfaction and when you will die, make this world cry. It is a big deal. This must go like a festival. Here for every reader a question arises. How someone can get that satisfaction. At eleventh hour of your life, a realised dream, with all your filled desires will be the things that can help you to be part of God’s Holy Communion, calmly. Be warned about the desires. They

don’t have ends. In this world nobody claimed or nobody claims that he has no desire. A limit check for your desires is very important. Only limitation forced by you can give what we are talking, the satisfaction. Three basic requirements for human being shall be filled on priority.

To continue one’s life, prime need is food. Second is cloth to separate ourselves from primitives or establish us as a part of some civilisation. Third is shelter, your home. I know the world would not be satisfied with these only.

My point of worry is when the world will be satisfied. Is there a limit? How expensive is my luxury car or how many of them do I have. There is no limit. I was talking about this limit check. Our thirst of ‘I want, I want’ puzzled the earth. Our hunger of ‘I need more’ tends Mother Nature to be furious sometime.

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The exams ended up chaotically. Most of us left the college on that very day. I decided to rejoice one more day with my friends. I had passed so much of time with them that helped me to cope up the nostalgia I was struggling with. After every exam we had our usual program to watch a movie. One of my friends who were also studying with me was from a very far of place and usually did not go to his home in such breaks. I did not know how he abnegated himself from going home. I never asked him the reasons. It was the matinee time. We were sitting on the fence and were just watching the passerby. We were watching the luxury cars and we talked how much we coveted for them, meanwhile we also cursed those who were deliberately honking. We also stopped a ‘feriwala’ to buy some plumes but none wanted to go down to bring them up. We told him to go without a purchase. I also remembered the face of the 'feriwala’ who went away without saying anything. I did not want to broach a discussion with my friend sitting on the fence. I did not know what forced me to do so, and I asked him.

‘We have a break of one week, why don’t you go home, as I remember you don’t go home.’ He did not answer my question. I thought that he did not listen. I repeated.

‘What for?’ said he. I was surprised with his answer. Truly, I did not expect it. In return, he gave me a weird question instead of an answer.

‘What question is this?’, I added, ‘Don’t you miss yours parents. You don’t wish to meet them after such a long time?’

‘Of course, I do. I do remember them but I cannot meet them’, he said.

First, he was not answering.

Second, he was answering in riddles.

I thought he might have some problem with his parents. I thought myself a man of peace and started entering into the matter.

‘Why can’t you meet them, is there any problem?’ I queried.

He came closer to me and looked into my eyes. I was amazed with what he was doing. I peeped into his eyes. His eyes were filled with tears. At first instance I could not understand but guessed something was wrong.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

‘I cannot meet them, I lost my parents in an accident’, he said in a heavy voice. I felt sky fell on me. I never knew it. He never told me about this tragedy. I patted his shoulder and begged pardon for my words. We had a nice evening in hand and unfortunately I jeopardised it all.

Usually, to my native place, I travelled by my bike which I had with me and never considered it less than a charioteer of a king. The next day I asked my friend to come with me for a change. He refused and I did not force him. After three hours of journey I was standing in front of my home. Home, the place where I am sure you cannot find anyone not loving it. The backdoor of my home was opened towards the woods. Usually we did not use that door until we had to fetch our balls back while playing into the courtyard. From far, a sound of a gong could be heard clearly. I thought about the place from where it was coming and became surprised that people were living there.

It was a noon-tide. I was arranging the things in my room. I heard the sounding of the gong very clearly. That made me to see the place and meet the people living there. I opened the door and stepped into the jungle. I was so scared; sometimes I quailed back after hearing harsh sound of animals. But I did not find anyone close to me, I did not stop. I did not even take a pause.

The sound of the gong was Lodestar to reach to the place. Suddenly a temple appeared. It was constructed in a very small area. It was properly maintained.

‘Who is there?’ a sudden stentorian voice made me thrilled. I turned back and found a man in his seventies standing there. I told him that I lived nearby and had come here to see who lives here.

‘Only me’, said he. ‘You can go now.’ I, prima facie, felt he did not want to talk with me. But I wanted to explore why he was living a solitary life. I did not move.

He did not repeat his words and went away.

I noticed he had held a bowl in his hand. I followed. He did not react.

I do not know what I was doing and why I was doing it but was sure enough that I was about to encounter with something great, something miraculous. He was roaming hither and thither. I noticed he did not leave his bowl.

‘Why you keep that bowl in your hand?’ He did not reply.

‘I am talking to you.’

He stared at me. I was enough sure he will say something.

That mystic man spoke:

He pointed to his bowl.

‘This is my only medium of attachment to the world. This is the thing with which I am connected to this world. I receive the alms from people. My hunger, my thirst is not more than this bowl. I do expect only this much from this bowl.’

Words spoken by him made me astonished. I stood still. I had seen the world. I was capable to perceive the chaos of the world. ‘I want, I want’, and ‘I want more’ is the purpose of the life. Where from he had been illuminated was my only query. That average height mystic old man living in temple seems far better and greater than those living in a big house with a want and unending love of materialistic objects. His heart, his vision was so immaculate and was radiating his aura of consciousness.

On the contrary, I had seen very narrow minded people and having barren thoughts, living even in big homes. Such people who could never enhance their area of thinking, people who have a lots of time to let it go waste.

‘What you do in spare time?’

‘I know only the time. I do not know that what is spare time? Time is time and do not dishonour time by using the word ‘spare’ before it. Every second you lose a second, every minute you lose a minute, ask yourself have you made it worthy, and ask yourself have you made it quality time. Time is money for those who understand its value. When I have nothing to do, I do chant the name of the God. I do thank him for everything (I was surprised he thanks God for the bowl only. Bowl was his only asset.)

‘Everything? What else you have except this bowl’

Suddenly he stood up.

He opened his arm.

‘A life is given to me, a greatest gift for each and everyone, is the beautiful gift of God. This sweet air when fills my lungs and give me life to devote myself to my God, the earth where I am standing bear's me as a mother cares for her child and the nature that surrounds me without which no life is possible, the ability to do whatever my volition suggests. I need not ask anything to anyone, I am a free man. I thank God that He chose such freedom for me. I never thought in this way, never heard about such point of view. As I was exploring him more, I was getting more anxious to get my answers.

‘I pray to God, I thank God for everything I have.

He spoke this sentence loudly. I had come to understand the reason of his loudness and what he had.

‘You pray to God’, did you ask or beg something from the almighty yet’, I queried.

‘Yes I do, and my prayer goes like that.’

After that the small prayer he told me, changed my world upside down. How enlightenment happens I realised

in those monumental minutes. Keen devotion in him that I

explored yet was mystical and found my soul plunging in is

worth sharing here. It goes like.

O God!

Do not worry about my prayers.

Do not fill all those I asked for,

Because I do not have such wisdom so that I could

judge what is good for my life. You, yourself, choose best

for me.

He did not ask anything or did he asked something?

I could not deduce from these lines. He, wisely, left everything to God. I felt a resonance in my heart. I closed my eyes and felt a light around me. I felt the air gushing in and out my lungs. For the first time I felt the energy of God in me. Perhaps, I felt God in me. I opened my eyes and everything looked entirely different to me. I was speechless, my soul had been illuminated. Before all this happened, I used to view things bluntly, on superficial level but now I can look into the depth and perceive them clearly. Before I use to talk, now I speak. I was in the crowd but was alone. Now I have been in group of commonality, and everyone was in my group. I feel the face of masses is my face and my face is face of all. Also, I perceived this extreme truth that we all are one in oneness of the one.

I don’t want that moment to just let go. I want to make it full with the healthy discussion. As for me he appeared like a past master so I want to have a dialogue on human nature and civilisation.

‘You can go now’, he gave me a piece of his mind.

I was sure that he was not as rude as he was enacting. Behind his frowning face, another face was smiling as if he was saying to me that I am examining you. I was also sure about the harsh words had come out from a pure heart. I decided not to take a step away from him. Suddenly he picked a dried branch of tree and came close to me. Now I feared and prepared for a hit. He ran towards me as if he was going to hit me. I did not move from my place. He came near me. He lifted his arm but did not hit me. I had closed my eyes and was preparing myself to receive a hit in my body. Suddenly I felt a palm over my head.

‘Son, sit down’, he said.

I, in trance, sat down on the dried leaves.

‘What was it that brought you here so far from the city.’ he asked.

I looked in his eyes. Those were asking the same question. I did not see such questioning eyes. I felt that I am peeping into his heart to which the eyes were an entrance.

Mixture of heart-felt words when come out in form of a question, it becomes very hard to hide the facts.

‘I came after hearing the enchanting sound of the bells, I often thought who will be living in such desolated place’, I answered.

‘But I can see a quest in your eyes.’ he said.

‘I did not understand.’ I wonderfully uttered.

‘You are a traveller of such a path that goes to explore the truths.’ he said very calmly. Also I know your heart has been filled with a lot of questions; you want to explore the answers. Most of them are still unanswered so you have become a traveller on the path of truth.

I did not understand what he was saying but a fact was coming out that nevertheless it may also be one of the reasons. It was not me who heard the bell for first time. But

it was me who made a first visit to see.

Now I was into full query mode. I just wanted to start with the problem of the current time where everyone wants to leave a bequest after them. I asked the question and wanted to know his opinion.

‘I do not agree with this and there is no meaning in leaving a legacy behind you, rather than leaving a legacy behind you, it is good to be a legend while you are living.’

He said.

‘A living legend’ what a great thing he just spoke?

‘How someone can become a living legend?’

How much love you spread among the world?

How many times you touch a life?

How many people will remember you for your companies given to them?

How could you live your life and at the time of final call how brilliantly you face the death?

I was afraid why he was asking such weird question to me. He himself came up with the expansions.

Love is a great lubricant that mobilises the world. Love originates in our hearts, become reasons of real pleasure but it cannot reach to others’ hearts until it is not spread out. Ask your heart that how many times you spread it in the world. What percent of mobility of the world you are causing.

The person who does it is a living legend.

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Give Respect and You Will Be Respected

The knowledge is flowing freely, sources are enormous and the list may be too long to cover half of this book. When you take the knowledge with wisdom, excellence is delivered. For your goal you take the pain with tolerance, success is delivered. And spiritually, when you are ready to take the divinity, the God is delivered. When you raise your hand to take something, something is ever delivered.

Communication is a very integral part of our lives. Whole our life we just learn to communicate. We talk to the people of our ages or older than. Respect the old age, respect the grey hairs. Respect the words of experienced people flown out of mellow wisdom. When you begin to respect, you are honoured. When the experience accrued by the old age is rendered or the great knowledge by our grand sires is shared among us, we are blessed. This is the part of the process, it is the transmutation of knowledge what we receive we send forth to our next generation. The prohibition of the adulteration of the knowledge shall be monitored/ maintained.

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Do Justice to Yourself

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