An Old Soul’s Wisdom!
An Old Soul’s Wisdom!
–A journey from death to awakening
Embedded Files
Simple truths for a complex world!
Dr. M. Sathya Prasad
To my dear son Narayanan
With immense gratitude to my dear friend, philosopher, guide and ex-boss
Mr. Paul R Pollock
“The man with a golden heart”
© 2009 by Author
Copyrighted material. All rights reserved. No part of this manuscript may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the author.
Author: Dr. Sathya Prasad M
Illustrations: R.S. Ayyappan (front cover) & author (rear cover)
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1. The old man's new home
1. The old man's new home
Peaceful was the ripe old man;
His wizened face was soft and tan.
He had lived a complete life–
Perfectly righteous, with no inner strife.
Rigorous self-discipline proves as a trend;
Listen to me, my good friend–
He lived all of ninety-seven!
Then came a vacancy in heaven.
Now was the time nature decided;
This lucky old chum was then invited,
Into a new abode,
Where beautiful angels strode;
The home for joyful activity;
Filled with love and purity–
Not a place for the ordinary. Please hear.
Only for those with a heart; crystal clear.
In that world, the old man was needed.
Cherubs came and respectfully pleaded;
Dispassionately, to the request, he heeded;
To a place unknown, he readily proceeded.
Ditched off his earthly sack,
Did not even look back,
Cast away the terrestrial garb–
For on earth, he was done with his job.
What belonged here, he left here.
He is for sure the wisest seer!
Ready for his celestial attire,
Heaven was now his very own, to retire.
2. The musing teacher
2. The musing teacher
A withdrawn one, as often as he could,
Visited the old man– cheerfully he would–
Was a young man, say, aged about forty,
Who went there not to revel and party
But only to contemplate by sitting tight,
And savour the silence when words lose might.
This young man was a schoolteacher,
To him, the old man was no mere preacher.
The young man (teacher) would sometimes say:
"Sir, please, if only you may,
Break your quietness once in a while,
And speak words that flow like the Nile,
I would consider myself blessed–
Your knowledge is true, tried and tested."
"Son," the old man would softly whisper–
Words clearer and crisper,
even than a professional orator;
"I have nothing to say as a narrator.
The weakest forms are words to express;
Pristine silence can never depress.
It does not matter what I say;
Did you experience silence today?
Sitting in stillness, mindless of time,
Silence is better than a word or rhyme.
Ego's eruption is many a speech;
Loathsome display of vanity; nothing to teach!
Louder than words speak action;
Silence gives me the energy to function.
Thoughtless word is a purged abscess;
So, seldom do I speak in excess.
Words are a fetter–
Silence is far better!
Speech is a tainted silver;
Silence alone has golden glitter."
Without much ado, it could be summarised:
The teacher went there to get mesmerised,
By the experience of inner silence–
A resilience-building license;
Standing apart from all physical science;
In absolute harmony with one’s conscience;
Abiding in a state fully conscious;
Oblivious to the world, conspicuous;
Transcending materiality;
By indelibly merging into the only reality.
Less are masters like the old man– silently kind;
Blessed are disciples like the teacher– a rare find!
3. The crowd around the leftover
3. The crowd around the leftover
The teacher came in, just as usual–
Only to witness something unusual;
The old man, who never anything said,
Was stone-cold, stiff, and peacefully dead!
Stone Cold, Stiff and Peacefully Dead!
As it was his rightful duty,
Parting from the lifeless beauty,
The teacher informed the neighbours duly;
A few people thence gathered quickly.
Quietly huddled this inquisitive crowd–
Around the man, who had never been proud…
Light-heartedly, people came;
Dying is part of life's puckish game!
Just a handful kept trickling in– one by one,
For a parting glance at the creator’s singular son!
All who came were indifferent and formal,
They took this death as all too normal.
A cute little boy, only three feet and eleven;
Delightful sweetheart– all of seven!
Holding his dad's index finger;
His amulet against danger–
He was the teacher's precocious only son,
Whose radiance rivalled the morning sun!
A bit unnerved at everyone’s presence,
The child could feel the absence of silence.
"Dad”, asked the boy, "why is Grandpa sleeping?”
“And why do you look as though weeping?"
The teacher sighed and stroked the boy's head;
Even as he stared at the revered one– now dead!
How at all could death be defined?
Whoever has come back and credibly explained?
So, his silence was better than any word uttered;
Cremating the old man was all that mattered.
For some reason or other,
The little child did not bother–
To question his dear father
about this elegiac topic, any further.
The skeletal crowd was confused!
Views expressed– incoherently diffused!
Dry intellectualisation galore!
Useless analysis thrust to the fore!
"Poor old man," said the short one,
"Relatives, he might have none."
"Wonder who should be informed!
For funerary rites need to be performed…"
The doc noted, “Died in absolute peace.
Want to know more? Then cough up my fees!”
"Looks serene as though in slumber;
Bewitching smile," declared the plumber.
"Not sure how much money he has left…"
Drawled the shylock in his classic deft!
"Nothing much to tell," growled the cops,
"Got things to do than stare at a corpse."
"Would like to know his account balance."
Whispered the banker in his glib parlance.
Conversations were filled with false sympathies!
And not one cared for basic courtesies!
None cared to lament; none cared to cry;
Just wished to flee, leaving high and dry.
None was willing to hang around,
To help the old one settle underground;
Expressing some lame pretext–
Nothing relevant to the context;
None cared about what to do next;
Each had to scoot, to his own little nest…
…except the teacher, who, without blinking,
Was engrossed in some abstract thinking.
The child’s little hands, hugging him snug,
Didn’t move an inch– didn’t even shrug.
None gathered around wanted to commit;
Feigned that their time didn't permit;
Filled with pretence and selfish hesitation,
They cared not for the old man's destination.
People gather out of curiosity,
But flee when it comes to responsibility!
Tongue-tied and with an insincere squirm,
Impatient to peter out, feigning grim.
One by one on their big toe’s tip,
Stealthily gave the old man a slip.
Of course, not a word the old man said–
For cold and comfy, the bloke was dead!
Now, back to square one:
The teacher, his son, and the dead old one,
Those were the ones that remained right now.
The cremation should happen… and let us see how!
4. The amusing neighbour
4. The amusing neighbour
Suddenly stormed in the neighbour – a woman!
A nefarious, sinister, as if portending a bad omen.
That wretched and veritable hag,
Barged in with a big, pink handbag.
With reddened eyes and a crocodile tear,
Started to bawl so the whole town could hear;
Sputtered, "He was like my dad–very, very dear,"
“And to me alone, he was near”!
She threw up her arms!
Raised incessant alarms!
She slammed the door!
And rolled on the floor!
Was she a loved one?
No, but surely a loud one!
A shrew she was and also shrewd.
Boy, was she so rude and crude!
To put people in tension,
Was her only intention!
Her presence was hardly de-stressing,
But she was loathingly distressing.
Her whine would often needlessly soar,
Her blood-curdling screams were blatantly sour.
Waves of her cries kept hitting the shore,
Making people tired, vexed, irritated, and sore.
Her hair was torn,
But she came not to mourn…
She eyed around,
And none she found…
…except the teacher and his dainty little son–
And, the still-laid-flat dead old one!
This was the opportunity she felt,
To steal any wealth that was left.
Belongings to the old man were just a few:
Some banal items and nothing new–
Minimal possessions for daily existence;
Bare necessities, for simple subsistence.
High soaring vulture would eye the carcass;
This woman had a heart that rivalled the darkest–
She sighed, gasped, and pretended to swoon!
Into her bag went the silver spoon!
Gently caressed the man's bald patch;
Stealthily pawed the dead one's watch!
Stole a few pieces of worthless crockery,
Made the death house a place of mockery!
She lets go a bawl that the whole town could hear!
She shamelessly stole a bottle of tincture!
And added to her collection an age-old picture.
In one foul stroke of biting adventure–
She even thieved the old man’s denture!
With all the little items of not much worth;
Pinched in a jiffy from the one in death–
Howled – no pun intended – "I can't hold anymore..."
And off she ran to her house next door!
As all these happened with utmost unkindness;
The teacher stood still, like an inert witness.
Standing unmoved, in deep contemplation,
With his dear little son, in the same position!
The old man appeared as if smiling;
Perhaps at this shrew who had just left wailing!
Why would he care? His soul was sailing,
To indescribable glory; alas! My words are failing.
Hearken as I state this clear and plain–
Whoever heard the dead complain?
Having withered his encasement,
Why would he care for a gift or encashment?
5. Packers and movers
5. Packers and movers
All in their twenties– four sprightly young guys–
Muscular and brisk; cheerful and nice;
Quietly entered the room: one after the other–
Saluted the old man and lifted him as a feather;
Draped him in a strip of white cloth–
An old cloth, made holey by the greedy moth!
The holy old man– now, like a mummy, he resembled!
A bier was also quickly assembled;
The four blokes shifted the sheathed dude,
Into the bier; rugged–though crude!
Work done, they bowed to the teacher now;
Copious sweat dripped down their brow;
"Teacher… have heard about you, good sir,"
"We live near downtown, not too far."
"Suspected something and therefore rushed…"
They spoke neither loudly nor too hushed.
"The old man visits us every other day–
During his walks– Monday to Friday–
In the blacksmith forge that we own,
He spends an hour in the afternoon."
The men thus spoke, in random turns–
Simple folks, with genuine concerns!
"Today the old one didn't show up!
So just walked by to check up."
The teacher nodded and smiled wryly,
Pondering on this new turn of events quietly.
"Ok, ready? Three, two, and one,
Our long trek has just begun."
In one deep breath simultaneously inspired,
The four blokes hoisted the one that expired.
The bier, secure on four broad shoulders,
The journey began for these dutiful soldiers.
Not a word spoken, the wise teacher followed,
Accompanying the old man about to be swallowed,
By Mother Earth, who is ever hungry;
She makes– she gives– she takes– we all agree;
All that is there belongs to her,
She merely loans it for your stay here.
The dead better forsake,
At least for her sake!
The little one also walked with his dad.
The dad was sad, but the lad was glad.
He always loved to walk.
With his father, enjoying the small talk.
For a child, everything is a wonder–
Even the old man’s journey beyond the yonder!
Filled with curiosity, everything is just the same;
Even the lifted old man was part of some funny game.
6. Beyond the line of the Rubicon
6. Beyond the line of the Rubicon
The four boys were quite strong;
It did not take them too long,
To prepare the dead for his final sojourn;
Brisk in action, wasting no time to mourn.
With here a gasp and there a sigh;
Corpse on their shoulders sleeping high;
Mighty men with strong hands,
Made at the teacher an askance glance.
With posture erect and demeanour dignified,
Their love for the old man was thus signified.
Each started marching like a soldier totting a gun–
Followed by the teacher and his only son.
The callous neighbours were– let me tell you straight–
Relieved to escape the burden to cremate.
As the old man was tooled to disperse as soot,
Ready was our neighbour for her next gallant loot!
Dusk was when the march had started;
The sun, lovelier than usual, slowly departed…
…as if gratified with the noble one’s despatch.
Bodies die, but only to again hatch.
Look at the day that blooms afresh,
Only to fade and dawn in a rush.
Horizon swallowed the sun at six o'clock,
Stealing daylight along, making way for the dark.
Horizon swallowed the sun at 6 O'Clock...
The cemetery was a couple of miles away,
Led through a desolate and eerie way.
The little one cosies upon his dad's shoulders,
As the walk continued through thorns and boulders.
What an ironic sight it was, to passers-by!
The lively young and the dead old– both perched high!
The breeze was chill, the trek no thrill;
Yet they continued like a sergeant’s drill.
The lively young and the dead old - both perched high!
Running scorpions and hissing serpents;
Howling jackals and vicious red ants;
Hooting owls from the distant dark;
Shooting stars and wild dogs’ bark!
Path, sloppy and slushy as men of no reason,
Made walking difficult– typical monsoon season.
Even the bravest would be scared to tread;
The dangers of such a journey are worthy of dread.
Path sloppy and slushy as men of no reason
With just the light of an old oil lantern,
All walked spryly; in no mood for a U-turn.
Fear! This is one word they never knew;
Facing dangers was not at all new.
After walking for a good two hours,
Escaping from unpredictable showers,
In pitch dark, these men finally reached–
The cemetery, which so inhospitably beseeched!
Escaping from unpredictable showers
7. The cemetery
7. The cemetery
People are all quite confused.
With headstones around strewn, diffused,
A cemetery, though very disliked,
is more indispensable than things well-liked!
Whether you rise above as smoky ash,
Or rot below as gooey mash,
This is the final choice you may demand–
Be you a king or prisoner in remand!
A society rejoices every single birth;
Fears the cemetery, the house of death!
What was bestowed would be taken;
Immortality is a notion mistaken.
What comes here and from where? No one knows.
That which comes, in time, surely goes!
The origin and end are both a puzzle!
In-between is life bundled with tussle!
Whether you rise above as a smokey ash or rot below as a gooey mash...!!!
We perpetually wallow in impermanence,
Forgetting, death alone is the sole permanence.
Therefore, fear not the hallowed cemetery!
Fear not the inevitable– you better agree!
Young or old, heroes or zeros, poor or rich, of any race,
The final journey someday would be to this very place.
Death! A constant reminder that death is a binder,
Puts things in perspective for an earnest truth-finder.
8. Abidance
8. Abidance
It had just started to drizzle;
A cold wind blew with a shrill whistle.
The four men told each other,
"Now is no time for our old father…
…to go up in flames. It is too damp;
The only fire is from our little lamp.
Let us quietly wait until dawn;
The rain would then be all bygone."
The four retreated to a nearby shed,
To stay awake and respect the dead.
Each one started to nonchalantly drink–
To get high in mirth and escape a wink.
The teacher was a teetotaller;
His character always measured taller;
Settled farther away in a comfortable position;
The little one on his lap was in a playful disposition.
Sitting erect in concentrated meditation,
The teacher sank into deep contemplation;
Abiding in himself – absolutely no sensation;
His heart slowed down to minimum pulsation.
9. The child’s lamentations
9. The child’s lamentations
With his dad abiding in his divine spirit…
…and the inebriated men, in their distilled spirit;
The spirited child was left with none–
Except for the dead man to reach out for fun.
The five adults were unshakably sunk deep.
Believing the old one was only asleep,
The little darling chose to goad the cadaver.
He started to implore, lament and quaver:
"Wake up, Grandpa, you haven’t spoken today.
It is so boring, and with someone, I need to play.
Grandpa, Grandpa; sweet dearest Grandpa–
Wake up! Wake up from slumber, my dear grandpa.
Play with me; you have never said, “Nope”;
Dark is scary; so, speak words of hope.
My dear mom would be waiting at home;
But Dad is sitting still, while I am in the gloom.
Slithering serpents give me chills;
Skulls and bones offer no thrills.
Jackals, scorpions, and wretched rats
make me tremble– and so do bats.
The vengeful cobra with upraised hood;
Is doing enough to curdle my blood!
There is nothing here to get beguiled,
All alone, am I not just a small child?
On such nights – pitch dark with pitter-patter of rain,
When the wind blows with a high-pitched whine,
I cosily cuddle between my parents–
The security I get is all too apparent.
Sandwiched between them, I would feel snug;
And recede to slumber, peaceful in their hug.
But here I am alone, left in the open;
This is not nice; this shouldn’t happen.
My good mother showers many kisses;
Wouldn’t allow me in a place full of hisses!
She gives me a bath, powders, and combs;
Would be sad to know I am among tombs!
My skin, my mom says, “Feels like velvet”;
Soft, silky, and smooth like chocolate!
My eyes, she says, are like lotus buds;
At her very thought, my affection floods.
My mom would praise me all the time,
Her voice is sweet as a seasoned wind chime!
The ladies around are always nice,
I am the one, apple in their eyes!
Even my father is a very jolly person,
Never gets angry, whatever the reason!
He would playfully toss me up in the air,
Being airborne would thrill me to the hair!
My dad always tells me interesting stories,
About animals, fairies, and great histories!
Such a lively and jovial one;
In his company, I have the most fun!
My dad is brilliant and powerful;
He is also kind and wonderful!
My mom is the sweetest and most beautiful;
Her very look makes me peaceful!
I have several friends nearby,
I play and give them a high-five!
There is none to play here, and I am mad,
Understand, I am just a little lad!
I am supposed to live in joy;
I haven’t even brought my toy;
There is nothing here to enjoy!
After all, I am just a little boy!
My meditative father would never move;
His concentration is not something new.
So, you are the only one left to play.
Wake up, Grandpa and don’t say, “Nay”!
Away from home, remotely in the rural,
Why alone am I fated to suffer the sepulchral?
You have slept for long, so give me a hug;
Unless you play, I will cease not to bug.
It is dark; past eleven; I feel craven;
When would it dawn to jostle the raven?
Wake up now; please come back from heaven;
I need company; I am just seven!
Hear me whimper and my breath stutter.
See me tremble and my lips quiver.
Feel my tremors as my heart palpitates.
Is the cemetery sacred? No, I am scared.
I thought this was a fun trip.
But now I am in fear’s grip.
What was it that I did?
Why be hard on a little kid?
If you do not sit straight,
And talk to me this night,
I would never again play with you.
Don’t regret it later and bow down low.
Mister, mister, wake-up, wake-up mister–
Better play with me– now– old mister!
Not playing with me is sinister;
So, play– else I would continue to pester."
Wake up Grandpa and don't say "Nay"!
10. Transcendental transformation
10. Transcendental transformation
An earnest pleading is always answered.
From goodness, the child has never swerved;
Almighty adores such pure devotion–
Sincere in love and filled with dedication.
An earnest pleading is always answered!
The heart that is always crystal clear,
Beckons Almighty reside very near.
An innocent heart filled with purity,
Is a holy abode for spiritual activity.
None on earth can surpass a child,
Whose affections are far from mild;
A child’s heart is divine and purest–
Ask if you want, even the best jurist!
The child’s pleading was so earnest,
Embracing innocence as its dearest;
Even the dead couldn’t stoically hold,
The appeal of this child, so honest and bold.
Therefore, it happened in this case;
Waking up with a smiling face,
The old man gestured to the seven-year-old,
With glowing radiance and no longer cold!
This is one happening never before told!
He became ALIVE! Lo! And behold!
Fragrant and fresh, with blinding effulgence,
Hugged the child with paternal indulgence.
Fresh and fragrant with a blinding effulgence!
And at that instance– hear you all,
Incredible! –Hold yourself; don’t fall!
This is something fascinating!
Hear it without procrastinating–
The seven-year-old was no longer so;
Even before a second could go,
Just as a blur could be seen,
Was turned that instant into seventeen!
If you wonder how this could occur,
Let me advise– you simply concur!
Relegate the questioning hereon to the lad.
You just read, enjoy, and don’t fuss a tad.
11. Meaningful metamorphosis
11. Meaningful metamorphosis
The lad said, "So it had been stated,
Wise of yore have dictated;
Good people shall never fade.
Their body may wither, but the character is made…
…to last for eternity and would never part;
But remain ingrained in the very heart,
Of those who follow the lessons learned–
Goodness is immortal and can’t be burned.
I see dear Grandpa, by your willpower,
You have chosen to reoccupy the fallen tower,
Of a citadel which is your physical frame;
But why make me seventeen in your little game?"
The grandpa replied, "My dear little fellow,
As a seven-year-old so young and mellow,
You are way too small to be serious.
But your love for me made me delirious.
To give back something for your love,
I have made you seventeen here and now.
Yes! The body may be reduced to pulverised ashes;
But the character is strong and suffers no gashes.
Material things, I don't have any.
Abundant knowledge I have of many,
Aspects of life that I would share.
Pay due attention and listen with care.”
"Why me, grandpa– not my sober dad?
Or among the four, an inebriated lad?"
So, did the child exclaim–
His curiosity is never tame!
"Kid, as I explain dutifully,
Sharpen your ears and listen carefully.
For instructions to be useful,
The instructor must be stoically truthful.
The one truthful has no interests vested.
Who else but the dead can stand tested?
Left to gain in this world, nothing more,
Am alone competent to speak truth to the core.
Without any vested interests, dead as I am,
I am fit to teach. I am no sham.
But to whom should such knowledge be imparted?
The question remains to be answered.
Let me tell you, my dear child;
You, a child, have nothing to hide.
Yet at seven, you are immature and new;
So, into seventeen have I turned you now–
Making you fit to absorb what I tell,
Sans any biased impressions that would swell,
And choke the path of information flow–
That would dull and diminish wisdom's glow.
That we are both from the twice-born stock,
Is also a reason for this meaningful talk.
I am a Yogi and you are my chosen one.
Continue my mission and get great things done!"
"Grandpa, a Yogi that you call yourself;
Yet, your words fit one with an egotistic self!
I see a contradiction between what you speak,
And boast of credentials swaying at the peak!"
"Child, nothing matters to me, my darling,
I came back for you– my little earthling!
Egoism and egotism are for survival’s sake;
I have already reached heaven– make no mistake.
I am not you and have nothing at stake;
I am done with Earth and now of a different make.
My operational paradigms are different;
Measures of civility I am aware of, yet indifferent.
Earthly rules are naive and wicked;
I am here to impart, only for the hand-picked.
Arrogance is sanctioned only for the dead;
If alive and arrogant, better consider him dead.
Dead men have no ego! none whatsoever;
We are gone for good, once and forever.”
Satisfied, the child–no, the boy of seventeen years,
Cheerfully listened to the Yogi with all his ears.
The old man– nay– the master commenced,
To teach the boy lessons that fenced,
Aspects of life, within its expansive border–
Inculcating wisdom, strength, and unyielding order.
12. The Prophesy
12. The Prophesy
The master continued:
“As honesty is on the decline and sin abounds,
People get at each other as deadly hounds.
Might-is-right would be the way;
Good people would have no forceful say.
Deceit and corruption would be the norm;
The poor and innocent would be at harm.
A dog-eat-dog world would it be.
Wile (Vile) would sport with sinister glee.
Convoluted minds tend towards sinning;
Goodness keeps on thinning and thinning.
This I perceive would take place,
In just a few years, at a rapid pace.
Mankind would then need a saviour,
Wise and impeccable in behaviour.
You are that one, my sweet little boy,
Willed to save the world from destiny’s ploy.
This conversation is to prepare you,
By planting seeds known only to a few;
To prepare you for that sure day,
For you to lead mankind from going astray.
You are the central figure who would steer,
Wayward people who stray like a steer.
You would admittedly succeed in this task,
And save the world from its ugly mask.
This conversation, mark my words, is significant,
Heralding something, rather magnificent!”
13. For a long life
13. For a long life
The boy:
“Why me, the deliverer, I am not aware!
If it happens, be it so– I don’t care;
But it fills my heart– you have no doubt–
That I am truly excited about
Being with you, as this is the only thing
worth savouring; all else deserves a scornful fling.
Let us spend this glorious night,
On subjects that interest the right.
Master, first and foremost, please tell me,
The secret of your long life, if even for a fee.”
Wisdom imparted at midnight
The Master:
“Fee, my child, I don't need any;
useless for me, even a single penny.
Altruistic and untempted– try as you may;
A true teacher never expects pay.
Secrets I don't have, nor supernatural mystique,
Just common sense and a robust physique.
For you, sweetheart, to live happily long,
Have good character and also be strong.
Think positively and silently do good;
Always be pleasant and in a jovial mood.
Have neither enemies nor friends too many;
And with nature be in harmony.
Calibrate worldly transactions;
Be steadfast in all your actions;
Maintain purpose and noble charter;
Never mortgage precious character.
The mightiest temptation, try and resist;
Allow reason to issue forth and insist–
Vulnerability deserves every kind of desist;
Be strong-willed, and surely you will persist.
Talk sweet, but never sweet-talk.
Commit– don’t promise– ever walk the talk.
Trying as it seems, criticise not the world;
It has its way and need not be told,
By either you or me on how it should hold;
It has its way for the future to unfold.
When hot, you can’t carpet the path– try anyhow,
Just cover your feet and forward you move!
Mend and mind your way;
Know thyself; that’s what I would say.”
14. Character
14. Character
The boy:
“Reveal to me the priceless asset;
Qualified enough for a worthwhile quest.”
The master:
“Yours indeed is a reasonable request;
Self-mastery is the best-ever conquest.
For self-mastery, you need inner strength;
Character alone can take you this length.
When the mind wanders like a wild tempest,
Character is the refuge to which I would attest.
When challenges weigh on your poor, frail chest,
The character is a friend– absolutely the best.
Bad impulses are something to detest;
Often these appear to win in life’s contest.
Dominant impulses may put you to the test–
But character alone would take you to the crest.
When the mind works at a character’s behest,
You would succeed in your quest.
When temptations make an inner voice protest,
Remember– character is your finest asset.
Keep working on yourself all the time,
Not sculpting your virtue is a crime.
The world would respect you as a mighty lion;
The heights you scale would be Himalayan.”
15. Temptations and mind management
15. Temptations and mind management
The boy:
“Tell me about thought control, my master;
My thoughts get scattered much faster,
than a six-horse cart or a speeding dart;
Extricate this burden from my troublesome heart.”
The master:
“Tender child with lovely eyes,
Listen as I tell you something nice.
Mind, my kid, is just like fire;
Misusing it can push you into the mire.
A very good friend and a very bad master,
Don’t control your mind, my little master;
Train it instead– steady and steadfast.
Don’t expect changes to happen extremely fast.
Training the mind is a difficult thing;
Train it and you sure are an uncrowned king.”
The boy:
“Your words of wisdom are never a bore;
I am eager to know, so tell me more.
How should I go about training my mind?
Oh! My dear teacher of the ideal kind!”
The Master:
“The mind, my son, is like a magnet;
On its own, it shines like a garnet;
Ensnared and yoked by organs of sense,
It conjures people to commit nonsense.
A mismanaged mind loses its sheen,
Suffers imbalance; acts unclean and mean.
The mind tends to scatter,
When material things are all that matter.
To tame the mind, my good child,
A potent formula that can never be defiled,
Is the power of discrimination and discretion;
And thereby understand the true nature of creation.
A mind, controlled by material objects,
Behaves verily like ruler-less subjects.
Cull the physical objects away;
Go in the direction of the detachment way.
Material possessions have inbuilt,
Happiness and sorrow with oscillating tilt.
The stuff that gladdens you today,
Is sure to sadden you some other day.
Be it towards living or non-living,
Attachment is the villain stirring the hornet’s hiving;
Called the mind, this can truly be a pest,
When ruled by attachment– putting peace to the test.
Remove the mind from the clutches of the five senses;
Train it with the sixth and bring it back to its senses.
That the sixth sense alone should manage the mind,
Indeed– my son– is verily my verified find.”
The boy:
“Say more on the mind, my good hermit,
If only your time would permit.”
The master:
“I am beyond the realm of time;
To me, it is not even worth a dime.
Time is for creatures that live and die;
I am now eternal, and this is no lie.
On mind training, let me tell you,
What I think is the explanation due.
Patience, my son, is the potent key,
Towards the best results for you to see.
Survival and temptation go hand-in-hand–
As if part of an orchestra band.
But, my son, survival is the way,
Where beasts and brutes have their say.
For a civilised human, with a sixth sense, it is funny;
Holding on to hunter’s instinct, my little sonny!
When the instinct to survive fades away;
Dignity and peace would have their way.
To emerge pristine and embellished,
The hunter inside us should be demolished.
As insecurities fade away one by one,
The “I” and surroundings dissolve into none.
Isn’t the mistaken identity due to ego,
the cause for the mind to wander ergo?
Introspect, contemplate and merge in silence;
That is the way to inner resilience.
That which steals your divine rations,
The wise call temptations.
Just when you try to discipline your core,
It rears its ugly head, pleading– ‘just once more…!’
As you dive deeper, you will start to grasp;
The mind is putty within your fist’s grasp.
The ego is not your real “you”,
Whatever I tell you is not at all new.
The ego is a pristine manifestation of ignorance;
Me, mine, and the associated arrogance.
Conquer ignorance with knowledge,
Once conquered, toss both over the hedge.
You are as much a child of this universe,
Accept everything and don’t be averse.
The realised one has tamed the mind;
Son, this indeed is verily my verified find.”
16. Material possessions
16. Material possessions
The boy:
“Why stand against the material world's sway?
Isn't our being here dependent on it every day?”
The master:
“What you say is quite true;
Meaningless austerity, I do not brew.
Practical philosophy is what I say;
Let me explain; listen if you may.
Attachment means not you dispel,
The raw necessities for life to propel.
Understanding that material is not enduring
is enough to get rid of desires, alluring.
Profound austerities are for sages and hermits;
Others needn’t feel guilty and would earn no demerits.
Do not chase the exclusive life of a selected few;
Just live your life; no fancy resolutions, radically new.
If they try their best to live a good life,
One of honour and dignity as husband and wife;
It doesn’t matter whether householders or sages,
So long as the mind is trained at all times and ages.
Long story short, if you need anything to live your life,
Go ahead placidly; experience happiness without strife.
You are your master; you chalk your course;
Reasonable, true, and enduring– like me– of course!
Manage your destiny with your willpower.
You would surely succeed and soar like a tower.
17. The danger of ignorance
17. The danger of ignorance
A person, when walking in broad daylight,
Falls into a ditch, not in plain sight.
While falling, stunned with fright,
He caught hold of a root, mid-way in flight.
Down below was a deadly serpent,
A mere glance is a reason to repent.
On the surface, a hungry tiger on the prowl,
Trying to reach for him, with a fearsome growl.
Adjacent to him was a nest of wasps,
Just one sting, God forbid, painful mishaps.
While he was thus hanging for so long,
A tenacious rat nibbled the root all along.
Dangling thus in his precarious perch,
He was left in an unenviable lurch!
Thirsty and exhausted as he was,
A beehive atop became the cause…
…to drip honey on his parched tongue;
Even in the agonies, he was among–
Stretched his tongue to its limit as much;
Craving for the taste made him act as such!
Old age and disease that we see,
Uncontrollable as it could be;
Yet wonder at lust and insatiable greed,
To amass wealth beyond reasonable need!”
18. Discord between tendency and rationale
18. Discord between tendency and rationale
The boy:
“Logic and impulses work in discord;
How should I bring these into concord?”
The master:
“The apparent dissonance is only natural;
For the immature, these two seem plural.
Impulses are based on basic instinct,
Without which mankind would be extinct.
Impulses ensure that senses are gratified,
Chasing pleasures alone is justified.
The logic, on the other hand, identifies the excess,
And limits the luxuries that tendency pines to possess.
Logic is that which emanates from within;
Tendencies are enslaved by the propensity to sin.
Tendencies are trapped by the five sense organs;
Manage them and you will go great guns.
Rise above the existential actions;
Live by the scriptural sanctions.
Mind managing body is self-discipline;
The other way around is indiscipline.
Once the mind gets trained, impulses become tame;
For an untrained mind, impulses create shame.
Unwieldy tendencies and impulses are the same–
Manage your mind and yours is fame.
Managed tendencies can be called disposition.
Temperament with character deserves admiration.
Impulse is the immediate agitation–
This occurs due to a lack of patient cogitation.
19. On the impermanence of creature comforts
19. On the impermanence of creature comforts
There was once a certain tortoise,
that lived in a big lake without much noise.
He had no reason to be very glad,
And none whatsoever to be either sad.
Passing hunters camped one day,
Near the lake, on their way.
Hungry they were, they wanted to eat,
This fat tortoise with plenty of meat!
Filling water in a big cauldron,
They put in the tortoise, too slow to run!
The tortoise felt, “Big Lake; now a small lake!
What great difference does it all make?”
While thinking so, the water is heated,
Became tepid and the tortoise elated!
“This comforts my body; lake water does not!
God bless those who put me in this pot!”
But quite very soon the water became hot;
The stupid turtle’s life was reduced to naught–
Bemoaned its fate, as it abortively fought,
“God curse those who put me on the spot.”
Tendency made the tortoise not realise–
That fleeting comforts don’t forever materialise!
Impulse is reactive and froths from the surface,
To external stimuli, whatever we face.
An action knee-jerk is hollow than a bubble.
And a fit of rage surely leads to trouble.
Clear reasoning is the only way,
For everlasting freedom from impulsive sway.”
20. Duties
20. Duties
The boy:
“What should govern the spirit of my task?
Speak plainly for this is my ask.”
The Master:
“Work, work, work hard, and do your duty–
Unattached but sincere; herein lies the beauty!
The secret to inner peace and harmony,
Is to realise that it is neither position nor money;
We are all unimportant people entrusted
With important tasks, to not get rusted.
For you to feel energetic,
Pretend to be energetic.
It is not how you feel that makes you act;
It is how you act that makes what you feel.
Your inner nature is to do your obligation;
And thence, bring laziness under subjugation.
Be in tune with your real nature;
Work with a purpose for thoughts to mature.
One who laughs becomes truly happy;
It is not happiness that makes one laugh.
Make yourself believe that you are in charge;
This would get you positively charged–
With the energy of a tiger, you would charge;
Your duties would get done, well discharged!”
21. Feeling contented
21. Feeling contented
The boy:
“When should one stop to equate,
And consign life to its fate?”
The master:
“When you cease to compare with the other,
Nothing in the world would dare to bother.
Only when you endlessly compare,
The peace within, you will surely impair.
If contented and therefore wholesome,
Nothing in the world can prove troublesome.
Contentment is when you don’t contest;
Contentment is when, at profligacy, you protest;
Contentment is when you are one-upping yourself.
Contentment is the joy of abiding in your ‘self’.
This is what the scriptures have intended–
One should always feel truly contented.”
22. Feeling discontented
22. Feeling discontented
The boy:
“With others, what in me should I compare?
This thought haunts and makes me despair.”
The master:
“Sweet-heart, when encountering noble souls,
Compare yourself and fill in the holes.
Work on your personality and hone it fine;
Sculpt it with persistence and make it divine.
When you witness motherly love,
Stop– wonder– and exclaim how!
The sight of an expert at his dexterous best
must motivate you to put your skills to the test.
Whoever inspires and infuses positive vigour
must be your benchmark for perfection’s rigour.
On realising that the best in you doesn’t measure up,
Be discontented, persevere, and buck up.”
23. Time
23. Time
The boy:
“Great things you tell me every time;
Please…, let us now discuss time.”
The master:
“Excellent topic you have brought forth now;
I shall explain whatever I know.
Time doesn’t care, be it a king, or a beggar in a tatter;
The status of a person verily does not matter.
Time is fascinating; time is wonderful;
Time cannot be stored, unlike wealth, in plentiful.
All you have is only the present;
Make the best use to make it as your present.
Time is impartial; time is unforgiving;
Twenty-four hours a day is your giving!
Destiny determines your balance in-store.
Emperor though lives not a second more!
Time cannot be bought, my dear honey,
But time can help you earn money.
Whether you waste or put it to the best use,
Your quota is yours, every day– rightful dues.
Try as you may, you can never travel to the past;
Nor does the hopeful future come to you fast.
Time cares not, prince or pauper;
It keeps on moving, slighting gold or copper.
Never waste time if you want prosperity;
Give the minute it's due. Spend it properly.
Time is the only thing transient;
Respect time and you will emerge puissant.”
24. Speech and silence
24. Speech and silence
The master continued:
“You should know when to speak,
And when not to open your beak.
You should learn what to speak,
For full effect and strength like teak.
You should practice how to speak,
Words that take you to the peak.
You should know to whom to speak–
Better an earnest listener and not a freak.
Mind your tone as you speak,
To not scare the meek.
Follow this advice on how to speak;
Your future, assuredly, would never be bleak.
It is better to speak the truth;
The truth so spoken should also soothe;
Soothing words should still be of use;
Let your words be not a ruse.
If the above is not possible,
The worth of words is not plausible;
Silence is then better than any speech,
Silence is the best, ever one could teach.”
25. Wisdom and intelligence
25. Wisdom and intelligence
The boy:
“You are indeed the wisest one,
To equal you there would be none.
Tell me now with due diligence,
Wisdom versus intelligence.”
The master:
“Intelligence is proud; it knows all in-store;
Wisdom is humble; it knows nothing more.
Intelligence assimilates; wisdom consumes.
Wisdom realises; intelligence presumes.
Intelligence when flagrant is a sight of gory;
Wisdom is subdued and the sight of glory.
Wisdom is life; death is lack of it.
Wisdom is to know thyself, every single bit.
Intelligence and knowledge are the same;
Call it anything, what is in a name?
Intelligence is a thing done with the head;
Wisdom has heart and nothing to dread.
Intelligence is fast and sometimes even in haste;
Wisdom is patient and never a waste.
Intelligence is information; wisdom is application.
Intelligence is ideal; wisdom is practical.
Intelligence discerns rights from wrongs;
Wisdom takes decisions where aptness throngs.
Intelligence is heroic; wisdom is prudent.
Intelligence is restless; wisdom is patient.
Intelligence can be predisposed;
Wisdom can never get indisposed.
Wisdom is subtle and latent – shies off;
Intelligence is apparent and dominant – shows off.
Intelligence is transient for use and toss;
Wisdom is permanent to prevail without loss.
Intelligence pursues interest and passion;
Wisdom hand-holds necessity and reason.
Intelligence is opinionated and inquisitive,
Wisdom is balanced and introspective.
Intelligence is bold and expressive,
Wisdom is meek yet stoic.
Intelligence speaks;
Wisdom listens.
Intelligence argues;
Wisdom contemplates.
Here is an example, handy and nice.
Even the crow, by nature, is clever.
Would anyone ever dare call it wise?
Never, never, never!
Intelligence is curious; it questions everything around,
Tries to find answers from outside.
Wisdom abides in itself,
Looks within and self-enquires from inside.
Intelligence is passion.
Wisdom is reason.
Intelligence strays.
Wisdom stays.
Intelligence is a matter of only the head,
Wisdom is the balance of the heart and head.
Self-regulation pertains only to the emotion;
Lack of which leads to intellectual commotion.
Intelligence is an expanse of the sea for all to see.
Wisdom is a freshwater lake for you to take.
Intelligence should be the vehicle that transports you,
From ignorance to wisdom, through and through.
The time that is taken for this lifelong travel,
is called experience– a real marvel!
Intelligence distilled through experience is wisdom;
Just felt like sharing this– I couldn’t keep mum!
26. Desultory intelligence
26. Desultory intelligence
A man spotted something while walking at twilight,
Something… wavy and glossy, right in his sight;
His heart froze as he thought,
It could be a snake that cruel fate had wrought.
He stood still in confusion,
Sweating in profusion;
Can’t proceed forward;
Snakes make him a coward.
Couldn’t go back; what if the snake chased?
His mental state was pathetically abased.
As his chest somehow stopped racing,
The ‘thing’ being inanimate, he started pacing.
Curious to know what it was,
He tip-toed forward, towards the gloss.
With a big sigh, he let go with hope,
To learn it was just a half-coiled rope!
He passed that way, the very next day,
And nonchalantly kicked the rope away!
The poor coir rope was just the same,
Snake or rope was the mind’s impish game!
The logic was correct, and so was the reaction;
Intelligence tried its best to adapt to the situation.
Intelligence was based on perception and survival;
Wisdom abides– rope or snake– survival is trivial.”
27. The Dance of Science and Spirit
27. The Dance of Science and Spirit
The Child:
“Do spirituality and science contradict?
Can these coexist and not be in conflict?”
The Master:
“Science and spirituality, in harmony they dance,
Firmly complementary, not mere happenstance.
Look outward with science, let spirituality introspect,
Together they make a person complete and perfect.
Both unify at the point of realisation,
Remember Archimedes – the Eureka sensation!
The boundless exuberance that surges from within,
Occurs when we grasp the truths that lie therein.
In the Upanishads, cold logic and faith converge,
Sincere atheism and staunch belief no longer diverge.
A scientist who seeks the truth through science
Is no less than a sage in austere penance.
Science codifies the world into universal laws,
Spirituality deifies the self with a higher cause.
Yet both uphold individuality,
And guide the seeker toward non-duality.
Science is cerebral, driven by intellect,
Spirituality is holistic, seeking balance and respect.
One strives to control the world outside,
The other seeks mastery of the self, inside.
Science loves logic, spirituality trusts intuition,
One is analytical, the other experiential vision.
Science seeks to understand the universe,
While spirituality sees logic as terse.
Science explores the nature around,
Spirituality unveils the self, profound.
Science is intelligence, spirituality is wisdom,
Science questions, spirituality finds freedom.
Science builds theories and experiments,
Spirituality rests on deep contemplation.
Science confuses knowledge with experience,
And thus may grow in arrogance.
Spirituality, in contrast, is humble and meek,
Uncertain of what exactly to seek.
Understanding the limits of knowledge,
It walks a path like a precarious ledge.
One relies on data and theories,
Stretching knowledge’s boundaries.
The other, on faith and conviction,
Realising wisdom through introspection.
Science evolves through rediscovery,
Spirituality through constant self-inquiry.
Science is relative, spirituality absolute,
One pursues materials, the other fulfilment in truth.
Science wonders about what goes around,
Spirituality cares for what lies within.
Science can be explained,
But spirituality must be experienced.
Science is open, extroverted,
Spirituality is silent and introverted.
Science is filled with perpetual doubts,
Spirituality seeks the soul’s whereabouts.
Science questions, its discoveries thunder,
Spirituality abides in speechless wonder.
Science finds meaning when tempered by spirituality,
For science strengthened by wisdom is humanity’s necessity.
Science and spirituality deserve a happy marriage,
For journeying through life, like a two-horse carriage.
Logic and emotions must reinforce each other.
The head and the heart must coexist together.”
28. Spirituality and Religion
28. Spirituality and Religion
The Child:
“Can one be spiritual without being religious?”
The Master:
“Spirituality is a path of self-restraint,
A rational pursuit of self-attainment.
Wisdom and self-discipline intertwine,
Starting in struggle, ending in divine.
Religion prescribes rules that bind,
It offers order, yet limits the mind.
Beginning in comfort, it may confine,
And at times, becomes an escape from the divine.
Religion is congregational, full of variety,
Spirituality seeks solitude and singularity.
Religion depends on traditions and roles,
Spirituality is our freedom’s soul.
Religion is for those who seek to belong,
Spirituality for those whose souls long.
Religion tries to control through rules,
While spirituality liberates from social tools.
Religion offers rituals as an escape,
Spirituality breaks every chain in its wake.
Religion may flee from reality,
While spirituality faces it in clarity.
Religion excites, emotionally sways,
Spirituality fascinates in silent ways.
Religion moulds you into doctrines tight,
Spirituality lets you dwell in the inner light.
Religion gathers, finds solace in company,
Spirituality stands alone in harmony.
Religion is fine when it serves as a guide,
But spirituality walks with no one beside.
Religion binds society as a whole,
Spirituality stands apart, fulfilling the soul.
Religion transacts with the material plane,
Spirituality remains detached from gain.
Religion is loud, a collective call,
Spirituality is silent, embracing all.”
29. Pleasure in simple things
29. Pleasure in simple things
The boy:
“In these days of sheer peer pressure,
Expensive it is, to purchase pleasure.”
The master:
“Your presence here is to impress none,
But do your duties as the eternal sun.
The joys of life, so refreshing and abundant,
are due to mother nature, always resplendent!
These do not cost, but come for free;
Let me explain, and you would agree.
The gentle hug of the caressing wind
Doesn’t it soothe your body and mind?
The chirping bird and the whistling tree,
Provide joy, absolutely for free!
The delightful sun at dawn and dusk,
Priceless sights yet don’t cost a husk!
The radiant moon on a cool night
is all yours for a glorious sight!
The night sky, peppered with stars,
Are yours to see with Saturn and Mars!
The restless clouds like bales of cotton,
It is yours to enjoy and never to be forgotten!
The naked boy, just one year old,
Blissfully, to your chest, you should hold!
The loving mother hugging her infant–
Behold it and you will never repent!
The humble thrush that lives in the bush,
is alive and agile but never in a rush!
The lowly ant, such a common sight,
It carries eight times its weight!
The bee with a sting full of pain,
Sits not in vain; slogs without gain!
The loathsome little house flies,
Have magnificent tiny compound eyes!
Even the most insignificant of creatures,
Come embodied with complete features!
The nimble sparrow with the worm it picks,
Digests and regurgitates to feed its chicks!
Even the hen that is always afraid,
Boldly incubates the eggs it laid!
There is so much around seeking deliberation;
Many everyday occurrences are worthy of celebration.”
30. Beyond objectivity
30. Beyond objectivity
The master continued:
“Objectivity seeks the end by any means;
Subjectivity cares more for the glorious means!
Throw away the objectivity;
Sink yourself in subjectivity!
Focusing, inherently, is objective;
Relaxing, by nature, is subjective.
Always focusing, unwavering and intense,
makes one serious and morbidly tense.
Too much focus could make you a hunter;
It is okay for the aim to be at times blunter.
Focus is the antonym of the big picture;
In life, you need both as a balanced mixture!
Step back and cheerfully say ‘cheese’!
Else end up missing the forest for the trees!
Be not the housefly feeding on filth and good;
Don’t ever straddle between bad and good.
The bee drinks only nectar for food.
Be good, see good, do good, and think good;
Being good is superior to doing good.
Take a straight path– willingly you should.”
31. Power of patience
31. Power of patience
The master continued:
“Let me tell you even more
Useful things from days of yore.
The residue left behind,
By renouncing anger from its bind;
The wise call it patience;
A person’s formidable protective fence.
Patience, my child, is never a flaw,
But an ornament sanctioned by scriptural law.
When tribulations chase like a grizzly bear,
Maintain your poise and silently bear.
When all else in life has gone out of tune,
This quality alone can bring back a fortune.
The enemy of patience is anger,
Truly a letter short of danger.
Virtues, far greater than to give,
Are to forbear and to forgive.
A foe, through forgiveness, can disarm;
Become your friend and cause no harm.
Even in situations hot,
You may hiss, but bite not!
Manage, control, and conquer anger–
Your joy would grow every day stronger.”
32. Persistence as a way of subsistence
32. Persistence as a way of subsistence
The master continued:
“Do not get affected by failure;
It is the obnoxious lure,
For which persistence is the cure.
When hardships come, silently endure.
Don’t give up soon and beat the retreat;
This is what I would repeatedly entreat.
Don’t give up– try again and again,
True success would be your final gain.
Not all attempts become successful at first;
This should not quench your earnest thirst.
Even gold needs to prove it is pure–
By facing embers, for that is the cure!
God Almighty would put the finest to the test;
Prove their resilience and grant them the best.
No situation can become precarious;
If the hero within each is persistent and courageous.
Face challenges with daring courage;
Success is yours at any day and age.”
33. Seek scholars and shun fools
33. Seek scholars and shun fools
The master continued:
“Seek the company of the scholar,
To walk upright and stand taller.
The company of the wise in times that test
can help tune perspective to its glorious best.
Even at times of ostentatious noise,
They put you in place to retain your poise.
Executing lofty actions of no real match,
A true scholar is a treat to watch.
A scholar’s acquaintance is a worthy shelter,
In times of crisis, when you truly swelter.
A true scholar would put you at ease,
And impart knowledge that offers peace.
When you come across a foolish one,
Hold your breath and away you run.
Unpredictable and ready to betray,
They are nosey and invite a fray!
Fools make a mockery of scholarship;
Take selfish advantage of good friendship.
Vagarious, argumentative, quarrelsome, and mean;
They splurge too often and also count a bean.
They respect not the elders and men of merit;
Fools brag about nothing worthy of credit.
Would listen to you with feigned care,
When least expected, would betray with dare!
Fools know little, but talk too much–
Laughable pedantry with no human touch!
They argue aloud and act in a rash;
With pretended air, indignant, they would dash.
They get angry soon and suddenly elate;
None can reason their true mental state!
So, in case you ever encounter fools,
Neither let them near nor become their tools!”
34. Beware of crooks
34. Beware of crooks
The master continued:
“People who put you on tenterhooks;
These are called wicked crooks.
They come to you with sweet talk;
Yet at your progress, they would balk.
They may act dull and even feign retard;
Find every means for trust and regard.
Secrecy, they would swear;
Their advantage is about all they care!
Convincing you with great pretence,
Lead you to situations precariously tense.
Make a drama of great innocence,
While making you suffer utter nonsense!
Experts in seeding poisonous rumours,
Nurturing them into malignant tumours,
Spinning yarns of tales and bales of gossip,
It is into others’ business that crooks dip!
They would keep tabs on your activity,
With pretended silence and portrayed passivity.
They may even offer comfort–
Only to trip you off-guard and play spoilsport!
Siphoning your resources like a greedy flea,
When done with you, they simply flee!
They would care not and leave you in tatters;
Their end alone is all that matters!
Crooks bend rules to protect the power they wield,
Wouldn’t hesitate to use people as a human shield!
Neither friendly nor hostile, you must be on the watch;
For cold-coal stains, while hot, one would scorch!
The devil’s advocate is indeed a crook;
Goodness within is just a fluke.
Ever should you suspect one as a knave,
Take to your heels– God alone can save!”
35. Sample Knave’s dictionary
35. Sample Knave’s dictionary
Achieve - Piggyback; stand tall on others’ shoulders
Ambitious - Aggressive
Assertive - Aggressive
Assess - Straitjacket, Judge
Brisk - Restless
Communicate - Spread a rumour
Compassionate - Patronise
Competitive - Rat race
Compliant - Submissive
Convince - Brainwash; portray vice as a virtue
Courage - Hit below the belt
Diplomacy - Hypocrisy
Disagreement - Dislike
Discussions - One-upmanship arguments, domination
Enduring - Shameless
Explain - Exaggerate
Explanations - Convoluted sermons to justify evil
Expound - Play devil’s advocate
Forgiveness - Delayed vengeance
Frugal - Miserly
Generosity - A camouflaged bribe (would demand a pound of flesh later)
Heroism – Heroics
Involve someone - Exploit
Kind - Glib
Law-abiding - Bend rules as much as possible, short of breaking!
Leverage - Exploit
Love - Lust
Loyal - Fanatic
Mentor - Godfather
Partner - Scapegoat
Patience - Wait for the opportune time to betray
Persuade - Browbeat
Plan - Plot
Praise - Flatter
Purpose - Prestige
Resilience - Thick skin
Resolve - Resolution
Silent - Quiet
Smile - Method to hide evil
Steadfast - Ruthless
Tactful - Cunning
Team - Gang
Teamwork - Play foul
Understand people - Judge people and pass opinions
Willpower - Obstinacy
36. Power of Friendship
36. Power of Friendship
The master continued:
“The best company is that of pals,
Around whom pleasantness befalls.
Not overbearing like a patronising sage,
Yet deliver you from self-sabotage.
A true friend is aloof neither,
All the same does not interfere either.
He knows his distance all too well,
Be it heaven or be it hell.
He indeed is a true mate,
Who praises in public, criticises in private;
He rejoices in your successes;
Curbs your excesses.
Gives you company in your failure;
Serves too well as agony’s cure.
You can always count on him,
For he is consistent without a whim.
Real fun he is, with many a joke,
That with good humour he would poke.
Makes you laugh with timely wit;
Let him be trusted every bit.
His words and manners put you at ease;
Even his prank is some innocent tease!
Sticking by through cold and hot,
He would not put you in any tight spot.
The one who qualifies as definite chum,
Would cheer you up in the worst of glum.
With affection and openness from near or far,
He just likes you for what you are!
Through high and low good friend vibes;
Overlooks your weakness and seldom gibes.
An epitome of kindness; a true gentleman;
He is a friend. Find one if you can!”
37. Face it– be courageous
37. Face it– be courageous
The master continued:
“What is it that you fear?
There is no need to shed a tear.
Situations may put you to the test,
But stand up and demonstrate your best.
Face challenges with an upright back;
When confronted, if you can, passively attack!
Things beyond control– courageously bear;
All in all, it is the worry that you should tear!
It is the one with unflinching valour–
And not the coward would stand taller!
Troubles may drive cowards nuts,
But would not touch the man with guts.
Valour is not to buy trouble,
But to act with discretion by checks that double!
The only thing painfully outrageous
is a life that is neither noble nor courageous.
All that had, is, and to be, are for good;
You do your duty and He would serve food.
You have lost nothing, so no need to cry;
Nothing is yours– you came high and dry.
Whatever you possess was given only here;
You have created nothing to claim as yours.
Just a custodian that you are;
A few things are briefly in your care.
You came alone– and would leave alone;
In the meantime, deluded, start not to bemoan.
You were born naked and would die naked;
So, don’t feel gloomy but be thankfully slaked.
Nothing in this world can tear
Your peace and make you shed a tear–
Unless you allow situations to take control,
And become a puppet for threat or cajole.
A true hero dies only once– no feign;
It is a coward who dies again and again.
Therefore, be a fighter, my good son;
You can be defeated ever by none!”
38. True Beauty
38. True Beauty
The master continued:
“True beauty is not external;
Anything external is not eternal.
The muscle and skin that make us–
are not worthy enough to make a fuss.
Looks may entice men and women;
Falling for which portends a bad omen.
Appearance disappears with time–
In the long run, not worth a dime!
A skin as fresh as a juicy lime,
It is bound to wrinkle over time!
When your own body you cannot hold!
Why take a stake in some other’s mould?
When your own body you can’t tame!
How could others you lay claim?
The fetish for flesh is so very foolish,
Challenge me if you think I am boorish.
True beauty is subtle;
On the outside charm, it doesn’t rattle.
It resides in love and a good deed;
It rests in character that helps in need.
It shows in the babble of the toddler’s lips;
And not in damsel’s swaying hips!
The fool who is entranced by a woman’s charm,
Puts himself in the path of harm.
Beauty manifests in celestial splendour;
Not in gender known to be tender.
Character alone rids notions that bind;
Child, this indeed is verily my verified find.”
39. Be a witness
39. Be a witness
The boy:
“The thin veil between good and bad;
Cunning and deceit make me sad.
The way of manipulators causes concern;
I feel weak, helpless, and too groggy to discern.”
The master:
“Not all are under your control, young fellow;
Lean on experience to make you mellow.
That you may be a creation unique–
Still, reconciling with the world has no easy technique!
On a larger scheme of things,
Many desires may take no wings.
So, it is best to stay a witness,
And try not to change, relying on fitness.
If all would aspire to become teachers,
The world would be filled only with preachers!
If all would want to sit on the palanquin,
Where to go for the bearers? All can’t ride therein!
It should be only by accident and not by design,
That people choose to follow what we assign.
It should not be by accident but by design,
That we remain still and, in truth, we resign.
So better take things as a matter of fact,
Don’t try to control through cunning and tact.”
40. Self-management
40. Self-management
The boy asked:
“In this world, critical to the smallest sin,
How to hold high through thick and thin?
The master replied:
“You are not born to satisfy the world;
This was what my master told.
Self-management is the way to self-esteem.
Always review where your actions teem.
When in rhythm with your innate nature;
Then only you manifest your finest feature.
Inner conflict creates outer conflict,
And both conflicts painfully afflict!
So, strive to be at peace with yourself,
And witness a world at peace with itself.
Self-management is to mind the internal,
Regardless of situations that seem external.
External situations are seldom under control;
Learn to manage things through self-patrol.
By monitoring the monitor, respond to any crisis;
Emerge a victor, with character as your basis!”
41. Absolute freedom
41. Absolute freedom
“For absolute freedom,”
The master went on,
“Enslave your senses,
Abide in thyself.
Practice self-control,
Practice, Practice, Practice,
Be your own master.”
“Practice – Japam
My dear tongue and lips,
Let me command you;
Dangerous is the word that slips,
To me, your respect is due.
Practice – Tratakam
My large roving eyes!
So very nice!
Let me make it clear,
I am your master, dear.
Practice – Sravanam
My ears one on each side
Hear good afar and near.
To me, you must abide,
Surrender and have no fear.
Practice – Pranayama
My lovely nose,
Respiring with no repose.
Don’t complain –
Obey me – simple and plain.
Practice – Sadhana
My keen sense of touch,
Don’t seek comfort much.
You are under my command.
Comply and don’t demand.
Practice – Aathma Vicharam
My sixth sense is the guide,
Yoking the other five side-by-side;
Riding by my royal rules,
Drawn by my five loyal mules.”
“And always remember to
Self-enquire, “Who am I?”
42. Prose without cons
42. Prose without cons
The boy:
“When to several of your lessons, I keep listening,
With joy, I could experience my inner light glistening.
But to ensure that my wisdom ever grows,
Paraphrase everything into simple prose–
That which I could read every single day,
And follow the same for the righteous way.”
The master:
“When have I ever denied your request?
Here it is. May it gratify your spiritual quest.
Here is a brief note to your “self”;
Use it and let it not rot in your loaded bookshelf!
Every single day– read this– verse after verse;
This is sure to enlighten even the perverse.”
The master now continued with his prose,
Encapsulating wisdom for amateurs and pros;
Lofty ideals– no cons, only pros;
Fresh and fragrant– as a just-bloomed rose!
43. Self-affirmation
43. Self-affirmation
“I am a liberated person in this symbiotic world. My life is one of greatness, with innocent acts for happiness embedded within. There is a place for sorrow as well, which would be solemnly, yet courageously faced. However, the bedrock on which these transients– happiness, and sorrow– operate is a robust personality built on virtues and values that lead me towards greatness.
The robustness in my personality lies in my low-profile, serene, humble, courageous, noble, steadfast, resilient, resolute, hardworking, patient, persistent, and loving demeanour. My encasement is one of the knightly virtues that act as the prime mover to keep me marching forward– no matter what!
My happiness is derived from acts that are harmless, inexpensive, and ubiquitous, arising out of unconstrained and unfettered sources that demand no liabilities. These sources of happiness offer pleasant, agreeable, and beneficial experiences to my faculties and psyche, without any regrettable aftereffects whatsoever.
I realise that no one can escape the pangs of an inhospitable destiny that could discourage a person. I would contemplate each such manifestation with my happier times, and by weighing the true worth of sorrow and understanding earnestly that, “this too would come to pass.”
Both happiness and sorrow that I experience are nothing but manageable perturbations on a strong foundation of a robust personality. Therefore, I would be at peace with myself.
I have come to realise that fame is an evil consequence of success. A great part of being great lies in carefully nurturing yet hiding the greatness. Greatness should not be measured based on what the world speaks about me, but only through dispassionately calibrating myself with greater embodiments. I would zealously guard the discoveries of such calibrations and my corrective actions thereof.
Just as great architecture evolves– one brick at a time, so too would I sculpt my personality– one good habit at a time. I realise that this would be possible only through abundant energy, hard work, patience, persistence, and all other virtues associated with greatness. The path to being great is the culminating greatness– a noble way of life, where goodness gently flows through every vessel and capillary of my system, with virtues securely and firmly lodged in my psyche that can be shaken neither by fortunes nor by adversities.
I am aware of my goals. I am aware of my responsibilities. My sixth sense firmly reins in on the other five. I am in complete self-control. I will keep moving forward– steadily, placidly, surely, and single-mindedly– no matter what! In the process, whatever I experience– triumphs or tribulations– would be surrendered in all humility to the higher entity.”
44. Sanity Checklist
44. Sanity Checklist
The master continued:
“Whenever your concentration wavers,
These mantras could be lifesavers.”
I am knowledgeable and striving for wisdom.
I am humble and steadfast.
I transcend hunger, tiredness, weakness, and frustration.
I am bright and filled with energy and enthusiasm.
I possess an unshakeable concentration, memory, and power.
I do not involve myself in trivial issues.
I avoid gossip at all costs.
I am fearless.
I never speak ill of others.
I think before I speak and act.
I respect my instincts, but I am not its slave.
Logic and faith alone would serve as my guide.
Money is my servant, and I am its master.
My head is held high, not out of pride, but out of dignity.
I am compassionate, but not emotional.
I eat only when hungry and drink only when thirsty.
I avoid all kinds of intoxicants.
Relaxation for me is work, and work for me is relaxation. Therefore, I am always working and relaxing.
I never attempt to criticise or mock others.
I never boast.
I accept situations that cannot be controlled, yet I am constantly aware of my convictions.
When thoughts arise, I try to observe them instead of becoming a part. I trace my thoughts to their origin.
I am low-profiled and earnest.
I constantly question myself. Questioning the self is like polishing a diamond.
I maintain secrecy and would never betray people who trust me.
I keep my word at all costs.
I am immensely patient.
I never flatter anybody.
I work hard to perform well above the commonly accepted level.
I am realistic in my goals and work hard to achieve them.
I am sparing in my promises.
I understand my responsibilities fully.
I am ever ready to lend a helping hand, especially to the meek and humble.
I will never show off.
I try to be a true professional in carrying out my responsibilities.
I am ever-smiling and cheerful.
I try to investigate the truth while being aware of the limitations of my intellect.
I know that I know very little.
I never attempt to get into somebody’s good books nor care about being in their bad books.
I take complete responsibility for my actions.
I commit good things to memory.
I would forgive, but not necessarily forget.
I respect people, especially women, children, the aged, and the weak.
My face never betrays my thoughts.
My emotions and feelings don’t exist. They are falser than a mirage.
I maintain silence and am still, like the depths of the ocean.
I am a good listener and would speak last.
I neither exaggerate things nor make lofty claims.
I never look to people for support, but would subtly try to be one.
Character for me is the most important aspect of life.
I am not my body – I just happen to reside in it.
I am the imperishable soul.
45. Other things in life worth considering
45. Other things in life worth considering
The master continued:
“More I shall tell in this recitation;
Follow these without hesitation.
Coming close to character is health;
In youth and old age, health is wealth.
For all ills, hard work is the pill;
Tiredness that fills can never kill!
Pride in the profession, even if humble,
Ensures that dignity would not tumble.
Living within means limited
would last for a time unlimited.
Stand on your own– even if one leg;
Lean on none and never beg.
A profession is not a matter of prestige;
It is for you to be its faithful vestige!
Be an expert in your chosen endeavour;
Practice hard– don’t say, “Never”.
It is he who never gives up,
plays to win and brings home the cup!
Neither follow rule– like a bridled mule;
Nor aimlessly wander, across the yonder–
Enslaved by wind, the lowly tumbleweed,
just moves along– cares for no worthy deed!
Seek sincere guidance, but worship no hero;
Freedom is paramount for now and tomorrow!
Wisely intersperse rules and freedom;
Discipline with individuality makes you wholesome.
In times of crisis and good;
Under one roof for kinship and food;
Family is important, please realise–
paves the way for love to materialise.
Shoulders to cry on in times of need;
Giggles to rejoice in your great deed.
Woven around unconditional affection;
Living and loving in good health or affliction.
Family comes first, be very clear;
Most important are your near and dear!
Supplement your life with a worthy hobby,
To maintain zest like a year-old baby!
To your feelings, listen less;
But the inner voice, please caress.
Shelve the mind and mind the self;
Selflessness alone can lead to self!
A wise man is not necessarily the one aged;
Young or old, he is wise if his life is well-managed!
Learn to be unwavering but also flex like bamboo;
An elephant’s trunk that moves rocks can pick needles, too!
The guilty-minded is never self-forgiving;
The remorseless have no misgiving.
Treat yourself in a balanced way;
Follow what the middle path would say!
Trumpet not your self-worth, in suffocating fumes;
Don’t sell your greatness; let the world tell!
The peacock that flagrantly fans its plumes,
Ignorantly exposes its bare behind as well!
At times, do not forget to take time off;
And recede to isolation if even far-off.
Be with yourself in silence and peace,
Contemplate with undisturbed ease.
This would help put things in perspective.
Gather yourself and realise your objective.
Hard work– you should never relegate;
The results– to Almighty do delegate.
He alone is the prime mover;
We are His instruments– He is the doer.
What is it that we could mend or amend –
When we are the means and He is the end?
46. The master's story– early life
46. The master's story– early life
The boy:
“Every single person to tread on the earth,
Had a past, with reminiscences of no dearth.
Pray tell me, Grandpa, your own story,
For posterity to benefit from the great history!”
The Master:
“Tender child, let me tell you about myself:
Younger of two identical embodiments of the one ‘self’,
To a loving couple, I was born a twin–
Stainless parents who knew no sin!
A few seconds younger than my twin brother–
The difference is insignificant even to bother;
Strong and possessed of handsome features,
We were praised as two divine creatures!
We grew up well and got along fine,
With fun and frolic, until ten plus nine.
It was when we two discussed;
On the purpose of life, we sincerely discoursed.
Bestowed with natural intelligence,
Discipline, dignity, and utmost diligence.
Inquisitiveness was our real nature,
Our conversations were hence innately mature.
Our discussions led us to a steely resolve,
That each would endeavour to earnestly solve–
The greatest puzzle called life and death;
Understand first-hand and clear any myth.
For this purpose, I chose celibacy to stay;
My brother selected the conjugal way.
But both of us would often meet,
to discuss our search– a difficult feat!
The problem was the same; our approaches were different.
Both of us were genuinely indifferent,
To anything except the singular truth;
We earnestly hoped our efforts would bear fruit.
My brother enjoyed reasonable comforts;
A natural householder with gentle comports;
His inclination was never to chase prosperity,
But had a reasonable propensity towards charity.
He earned his wealth by his dripping sweat;
smiled through good and bad, whichever he met.
Led a principled life, which, with fairness, he dealt;
never allowed himself for vicissitudes to melt.
Hoarded not possessions– only character and health.
Had no use for cunning or stealth.
Relished his earnings that fortune would pelt;
Hard work was his sole ammunition in the belt.
He thus lived his life, without selling his soul;
Ochre-clad, I went in search of my elusive soul.
47. The master’s story– austerity
47. The master’s story– austerity
Feigning crusaders, there were many!
Shallow charlatans acted funny!
Many a quack promised me hope;
But ‘realisation’ was one sad nope!
I decided to keep off the path beaten,
Walked through woods amidst carcasses half-eaten.
Embarked on a journey along a path less taken,
Retreated into the wilderness that God had forsaken!
I forced myself into unforgiving austerity,
Rigorous contemplation and unselfish charity.
With inner self alone as my true deity;
I did “tapas” with devotion and piety!
Selflessly, thus I searched for my ‘self’;
Alone in the wilderness, all by myself!
I ranged the mountains as a mighty lion,
Many a time, barely clothed in a worn-out loin!
I meditated in many a cave;
Even for the next meal, I did not save.
Try as I may, my search was inconclusive–
The tricky truth was still evasive!
Yet, I never gave up and started to fast–
Hoping, increased rigor will enlighten me fast!
On the barest minimum did I subsist;
Any form of comfort did I desist.
On severe austerities did I persist;
All forms of temptations did I resist.
Miniscule food did my meal consist;
Severe penances, on myself, did I insist.
The notion of comfort was fully gone;
The night was just the same as the fresh morn.
Delectable things did not matter;
Always clad in a dirty tatter,
Sweet things for the world to me were bitter.
Creature comforts caused me to jitter.
I had nothing whatsoever with women;
Cared neither damsel nor feared demon.
Indifferent to woman’s beauty and form;
Treated good looks as one would a worm;
Never at women did I ever once glance,
Convinced their eyes hid the fiercest lance;
But regarded every woman as mother divine;
An embodiment of energy and activity entwined.
The notion of lust was eradicated;
Within me, the passions abdicated.
But whoever approached was treated with nicety,
Regardless of gender, age, or position in society.
I became introverted;
Into a cheerful recluse, I got converted.
Contemplation was my only companion;
Meditation was my only relaxation.
Unwavering patience dazzled in my penance;
I led a life with no scope for repentance.
Thus, I spent the day, and so, I spent the night;
Unmindful of time, abiding in myself tight.
The notion of lust was completely eradicated
48. The master’s story– realisation
48. The master’s story– realisation
My body barely sustained as a soul carrier;
Except for encasing me, it became my sole barrier.
I saw beauty in the whole world;
And realised subtleties hitherto untold!
Then one day did I suddenly realise!
With forceful conviction, I cannot theorise!
That I discovered myself was a conclusion forgone;
The “I” within myself brilliantly shone!
Apart from this, I found something fascinating!
Shall tell you now without procrastinating–
Lessons of life and wisdom are incremental;
To seek a one-stop solution is detrimental.
This realisation struck me hard–
I looked up and thanked the Lord!
I jumped with joy at my new revelation!
This was the answer to the world’s tribulation!
I rushed to my brother to share this news;
He smiled– fetched his diary, bearing his views.
At the time of my realisation, he had jotted–
To my amazement– as I studied what he had noted!
“The blessed one with wisdom sound,
Imbibes lessons from all around!
Expecting full knowledge from a single source
is to expect variety from one tree, by force!
Look around placidly and without chaos;
You can see many mundane mentors.
Teeming with ideas of every kind;
Lessons that are sure to expand your mind.
Look around and find your mentors
Wisdom rests on harvesting knowledge,
And interspersing those with one’s own life!”
Two different approaches, though we took,
The conclusions were from a single book!
Be it a householder or be it a sage,
The lesson of life is on the same page!
To free yourself from ignorance’s cage,
Unmindful of gender, creed, and age,
Look around and learn from all.
There are lessons to serve for the long haul!
I realised from the one who had shared his crib;
A good householder is a saint– proved my dear sib.
For those who can contemplate it is fine…
…to realise, there is neither thine nor mine.
For the worldly lot without realisation of any,
Just look around and find teachers, so many!
The lessons thus learned are quite dainty,
For a life of honour, integrity, and dignity.
Seek and discover your mundane mentors;
Make them your wisdom’s epicentres.
May sound obvious, but a lesson of a rare kind;
Sweetie, this indeed is verily my verified find.”
49. The master’s story – his secret to happiness
49. The master’s story – his secret to happiness
The Yogi continued:
I examined, “Why do people falter –
Even those otherwise deemed smarter?”
Then I got a profound insight,
I was proved time and again right.
Ordinary people are driven by the urge,
They allow meaningless thoughts to surge,
Driven by impulses that surface, they purge
Unproductive actions! Wasteful splurge!
Wise people have their urges tame,
By introspection – defeating the mind’s game.
Turning their mind within and inward,
Self-examination yields the best reward.
Wise ones have understood,
By this principle, they have stood –
“The world outside is not the cause for aches,
It is the one inside, the reason for all quakes.”
The fool blames suffering on causes external,
And seeks solutions that are likewise external.
Without any effort to investigate his core,
He always laments, wandering dull and sore!
Our inner struggle is the one that maims,
Perpetual warfare – our life it claims!
Seldom in peace with ourselves – what a shame!
Self-abidance should be our only aim.
Investigate the source of every urge,
With absolute reality, then you merge!
Rest assured - your life will have a mission!
Feel the energy surge and enjoy with passion!
Verily listen to your inner self,
Self-enquire and know thyself.
Positive attitude through thick and thin,
Understand – the real problem lies within.
Your inner voice – let it enlarge,
Silence your impulsive urge.
The enemy of purpose is the urge,
Urge defeats the purpose at large.
Peace is a dharma-based self-reconstruction.
Plan, then Prioritize, Pursue and Persevere.
Embrace Simplicity, Endure and banish fear.
Act with Awareness, Communicate clear.
Ensure your Health and Balance, you my dear.
Examine your urge and deal with it.
On profound contemplation, quietly sit.
Replace purpose for urge and that’s it!
The secret to happiness? This is it!
50. The master’s story– service to society and graceful ageing
50. The master’s story– service to society and graceful ageing
The master continued:
Thereafter, to serve humanity as best as I could,
I settled near my brother and worked as I should.
Facing this world by being forthright,
I emphasised– “happiness is everyone’s birthright”.
Many great people were in touch;
Perhaps they felt I had to offer much!
Kings, officials, and men of power,
Around me would faithfully hover!
An invisible distance was what I sought;
My views they got, but they knew me not!
Scientists, artists, and men of eminence,
Believed my advice had deep significance.
Almost all leaders of many a nation,
Sought me for I was their destination!
To the outside world, I was reclusively simple;
But to the world leaders, I was the main impel!
I did my tasks all low-profiled;
Any exhibition would make them defiled.
Even my neighbours didn’t know what I was up to!
My activities for the world’s good left no clue!
It was indeed fun to see,
Sworn enemies seeking advice from me!
On the same topic of how one could get,
Better than the other in their never-ending bet!
Yet I swerved not from what was just;
Righteousness was an uncompromising must.
My work went on without a fingerprint!
But great happenings carried my footprint!
None knew my full prowess,
Except for my brother, the most virtuous.
The wonderful gentleman that he personified,
Good character to him was inextricably tied!
I trusted him beyond any doubt;
He never thought of exploiting my clout;
For my part, my austerities were sacred;
Men of evil at my sight got scared!
The challenging aspect was to remain unseen,
As I carried out tasks from behind the scenes.
I was thus inactively active for quite a while;
It became time to act even more worthwhile.
I slowly eschewed contact with the outside world,
Grew austerities manifold; withdrew from the social fold.
With correspondence only with a few intact,
Your father became my adorable contact.
Subtly, I did my duties with brisk,
Until I decided to renounce my physique.
Since I felt you would offer a panacea,
I descended now to seed wisdom for utopia.”
51. Acknowledgment!
51. Acknowledgment!
The master continued:
“I bless you to live long, fellow;
Succeed and shake the sphere,
Through your words’ worth and actions!
Wake up from your kip; linger solemnly not!
May your intelligence be clear of frost!
May wisdom offer you succour at ease!
Make good friends, you could pat and jolly
Spread your message, without folly;
Feed people knowledge as the emmer, son–
But well-cooked, digestible, and delectably browning (crisp)!
Difficult lessons need not be hard and shelly!
Understanding is important. Don’t repeat rote, like parakeets!
I am going nowhere;
I have known you supra; sad be not!
In the future, my patten is son, yours!
For now, though, mine are bell tolls; toys are yours!”
52. Adieu!
52. Adieu!
With much of the night thus gone,
Although several hours before dawn,
The lad, now tired, started to yawn.
The master decided to no longer carry on,
But to once again become a carrion.
The master continued:
“Listen to me, my great-grandson,
Your father indeed is my brother’s grandson!
Your mother, who loves you and your dad,
is the finest person Earth ever had!
Both your parents, my dear little buster,
Are standing examples of goodness in a cluster.
Soon I would turn you into a seven-year-old,
And go turn in myself, dead and cold.
For now, my lessons, you would be forgetting,
At the right time, it would emerge without rotting.”
One sweet smile at the little lad!
One big hug to make him glad!
One nice peck on his tender cheek!
One big tear down the eyes that leak!
One kind look that locked the eyes!
One firm grasp that reinforced the ties!
One deep gasp and a soft sigh!
The old man was ready to travel high!
With peace and contentment in the air,
A wonderful conversation of an unlikely pair,
The old man was ready to bid adieu!
He had, as a true son, delivered his due.
One big tear down the eyes that leak!
“Bye, bye darling; I love you sweetheart!
Think of me always; you know my lessons by heart,”
Thus, the old man laid himself on the bier–
And the seventeen became seven and slept very near.
53. Cremation
53. Cremation
The drizzle had stopped at last;
The morning sun was rising fast;
The cool breeze at its refreshing best;
Beautiful flowers just woke up from rest!
The teacher arose from his meditation;
The four guys acted without hesitation;
Stacked the wood and laid the body on the pyre;
The teacher paid his respect and lit the fire.
As the body was consumed, member by member,
The child slept snug in the warmth of the ember!
The chill morning and the fire of the pyre all the while,
Made the sleeping child sport a smile without guile!
The five men stood around the blaze,
In a state of admiration and daze.
Standing amidst the smoky haze,
Paid final respects with a contented gaze.
Liberating the deathless soul
54. The journey back
54. The journey back
Cremation finished, they soon started;
Back to their homes, they quietly darted.
The sun was now crimson red;
Tulips blossomed on their bed;
The birds had just started to chirp;
Another beautiful day at their grip!
The child woke up from his father’s arms;
disarmed his father with cherubic charms!
“Where is Grandpa? Why isn’t he coming our way?”
The father replied, “Oh! He has gone far, far away.”
“But dad!” exclaimed the child, “I spoke all night with him.”
“We spoke for long when the light was dim.”
The father smiled, “Huh, huh!” but was slightly grim;
He gave the child a tender embrace and a gentle kiss.
The four young men on overhearing this,
started chuckling, listening to this kid reminisce!
One of them said, “Unlike us, this little one,
slept soundly and dreamt about the old one!
Little children think that their dreams are real!
Well, we got to get some sleep lest we might reel.
How would we know what happened last night?
We were drunk completely and stayed out of sight!”
Their walk was no longer the majestic swagger;
Their tired bodies could at best wobble and stagger.
The teacher mused casually, “Hmm… what is real?
What is unreal, and what is surreal?
There is nothing called birth, and nothing called death!
Life is nothing but gross matter with a breath.
Eternal and ever-pervading is the soul;
An inextricable part of the infinite whole!
For the soul to operate in this universe,
It takes on a body with no likes or averse.
For the sake of variety and since the body is organic,
Must cycle through birth and death– no need to panic;
As the soul’s temporary custodian body must die–
This is the truth; death is nothing to fie.
For this body to survive, self-preservation is a must;
This is the cause of struggle and lust!
Life and death are only for the ignorant,
Loss of body is no reason to rant.
Why strive in futility for the material gross?
The real ‘you’ is subtle and all else is gross!
Immortality of the body is a sheer delusion;
It is the mischief caused by a grand illusion.
‘Mine’ is selfish; ‘divine’ is ‘selfless’;
‘Mind’ is ‘self’-less; Lust is loveless;
‘Self’ and ignorance are both mindless.
Ego and inquiry are mindful; Awakening is egoless.
Why worry about the destiny of the (body) carrier,
When the driver (soul) has determinedly no barrier?
Become sane; extricate yourself from the relative plane!
Dwell in the absolute; then death would be no bane!
Don’t get carried away by bodily survival;
Upon realisation, existence becomes trivial.
Knowledge is the tool, and experience shows the aim;
Character offers wisdom, and temperament directs the game.
The path is straight; the eyes are bright;
Proceed well and do the right!
How the old man, so silent when alive and on,
Could become so loquacious when dead and gone?
Only last noon his death made me pensive,
But now my joy and clarity are all intensive!
A salt doll seeking the ocean’s floor
can never swim back to the shore!
Whoever realises his inner depth,
Has no fear of life or death!
The old man, I cognise, hasn’t died at all!
He lives through my child for the good of all.”
………………………………
The playful child was becoming a perky little singer!
As he jived along, merrily, holding Dad’s index finger!
As he jived along merrily, holding his dad's index finger!
55. Epitaph
55. Epitaph
“Here rest the mortal remains (one-third of his ashes), in a golden urn, of an old man who lived life to the fullest and on his terms. He was a true hero, sans heroics. He was a giver and never expected anything from anyone. He led a simple life and sought no favours. While his resolve was firm, he was easy-going and accessible to all. His actions eschewed gratification but pursued purposefulness. Being the wisest and kindest of persons, happiness was his true nature. He laughed a lot and made others laugh. He was a kind teacher and never overbearing. One-third of his ashes were dissolved in the oceans. At the earnest request of world space agencies, the remaining ashes were sent aboard a satellite now exploring our universe. This old man’s name has been withheld in respectful deference to his preference.”
--- Peace, Peace, Peace ---
=====================
Urge
Short term
Gratifies senses
Results are immediate
Enjoyable and easy
Outward-looking
Results trivial or negative
Self-sabotage
Enslaves; hijacks reason
Tempts
Unsettles
Plots
Sneaks
Obsessive
Purpose
Long term
Fulfills soul
Mid to long-term
Difficult and painful
Inward-looking
Results are always positive, useful and meaningful
Soul elevating
Liberates; thoughtful
Tests
Brings focus
Strategizes
Confronts
Persuasive
I have listed a few differences above to trigger the thought process. The reader could meditate and come up with more.
Urge overwhelms and hijacks reason. Urge leads to passion due to emotion, which kills options. An act that you control stems from purpose. That which controls you is an urge. Urge is Maya. The simple test to decide whether the cause for us to act is an urge or purpose is by repeatedly questioning, “…and then what?” If the recursive answers lead to triviality or negative consequences, then it is an urge. If the questioning leads to meaningful insights, then it is a purpose.
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