No. 1/2012
…. SPIRITUALITY OF SORROW
July-August 2012
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Editorial
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A song of sorrow ….ah! Life so beautiful and tempting yet it has its own share of gloomy moments. ….what a beauty life holds in its swarms and in the isolation. A lone tree on an isolated mound in a remote far-off land knows this; a tiny flickering candle glowing in an immense darkness knows this too. ….the living ones hold a frightening sense of
existence!
With
all
the
lonely
emptiness of the void they hold in their terribly weak heart, they are condemned to live in this barren endless eternity. They live on awfully shaken, consuming half-filled desires, shedding wasteful degraded life moment by moment. Their lone joy is to search for meaning in this meaningless world. (Contd. Next page) Above all things let us never forget that mankind constitutes one great brotherhood; all born are to encounter suffering and sorrow. Therefore we are bound to sympathize with each other. Albert Pike
….a flock of birds flies high up in the air and in the evening return with vacant bellies and look for next morn’ sun enclosing young ones under their cold wings. Skinny herds of cattle abandon dried up meadows and move miles on in the blazing sun looking for fresh green grass and waterholes. ….desires swarm up and flourish in the hideous chambers. Before that they have stomached horrible loneliness to the extent of annihilation. Now they are greedy enough to suck up the last drop of charm from the broken vessel of life. ….a little life germinates in the putrid drain and yet happy to survive consuming half-decayed matter. It survives in its vain hope for the day when it will get liberation from soggy surrounds. ….Beauty delights every other. Beauty they say is the life of life! Yet bleak sorrows survive in the most beautiful minds. The beautiful minds are forever condemned to be alone. Masses of people most often swarms up around ugliest expression of desires. They never value aesthetics of immaculate beauty yet nevertheless crowd up for sensuous delights. ….a little joy wells up in a dreary mind. A flying eagle of misery comes down and catches hold of it. Happy she is to eat the joy and waiting for the next joy to come to life. ….feelings in the long run create indifference to their own beings. Old worn out emotions don’t live long. They merely produce masked faces. Some truly great emotions have atrophied themselves for the want of proper expressions. ….liberation of the souls is in the hands of those who first discipline the souls. They first put heavy chains to many innocent natural needs of the soul then ask her to say “I am free”.–Dr. Swaran J. (Bulletin Editor)
A Cup of Tea
Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen (Japanese Philosophy of balanced mind). Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring. The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. "It is overfull. No more will go in!" "Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your brain?"
On Joy and Sorrow Kahlil Gibran
Your joy is your sorrow under the mask And the very same wells from your laughter was often times filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
Kamilah, Kahlil's mother. Painting by Kahlil Gibran
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater." But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed. Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy. Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced. About this author
Khalil Gibran (born Gubran Khalil Gubran; January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931) also known as Kahlil Gibran, was a Lebanese American artist, poet, and writer. Born in the town of Bsharri in modern-day Lebanon (then part of the Ottoman Mount Lebanon mutasarrifate), as a young man he emigrated with his family to the United States where he studied art and began his literary career. He is chiefly known in the English speaking world for his 1923 book The Prophet.
THE CAUSE OF SORROW J. Krishnamurti All men desire to discover for themselves, with certainty, what is the purpose of life. This discovery can only be made by living and not by mere intellectual theorizing. After the discovery of that purpose they can work for it one-pointedly. But to do this they must be rid of all philosophies, dogmas, creeds, religions, particular rites -everything, because no one can, for a single moment, discover his true purpose in life, or life itself, with all these encumbrances. When man has completely detached himself from all unessential things, he can begin to discover what it is that he is seeking. It is as an individual, that he must make the discovery. Each man is seeking to free himself from sorrow. Desire is life, and that desire is constantly battling against limitations. It seeks to be free. In search for happiness it is constantly breaking away from limitations. Men are all the time looking for perfection. Imperfection is a limitation, and the individual life, which begins in limitation, which goes from corruption to corruption, is ceaselessly seeking incorruption and freedom. So long as there is limitation there is sorrow, and it is from sorrow that all men would escape. They are trying to find a way out of suffering, out of their entanglement in the wheel of sorrow and pain. In the attainment of perfection is liberation to be found, and in nothing else. Seek perfection therefore rather than philosophies, theories, dogmas, religions and objects of worship -which are all unreal, childish, unessential. Men, distracted by all these, do not attack the one problem which lies at the root of all that suffocates them, which creates havoc in their selfexpression, in their individual growth. Do not waste time with shadows, which vanish as the morning mist. So, we come back to that dynamic thing which is desire. You may worship false gods -and all gods are false- you may cling to the unreal, but desire will grow and overwhelm you, unless you encourage that desire towards perfection. With the thought of perfection alone you must dwell, because that is life; that alone will overcome the chaos, the unrealities to which men cling, instead of to the real. What is the cause, therefore, of sorrow? With that we must concern ourselves. Sorrow and joy, pain and pleasure, light and shade, are the same thing. Sorrow must exist, as pleasure must exist. It is useless to try to escape from either. Only when you are absolutely undisturbed by either will true perfection abide in your heart and mind. The self is ever climbing towards perfection by self-assertion. It asserts "I am" as it climbs the mountain of experience. That self-assertion of "I am" creates echoes and those echoes return as sorrow, pain, pleasure. That self-assertion of "I am" is inevitable. You cannot escape from it. Selfassertion in imperfection creates individuality. You are all the time asserting "I am", "I" think so and so, "I" feel this, "I" am much greater than someone else. The "I" is all the time creating this vast whirlpool of echoes, which return to you and bind you. But when you have attained the fulfilment of life, your "I am" will no longer create echoes, no longer create whirlpools. In the process of self-
assertion, the love of life, which is the whole -to which all life, individual or universal, must come- is forgotten. What is self-expression? You express yourself not knowing your true self. You express whatever comes into your mind, and hence there is this combative chaos of the different selves. As a tree in the forest steals the light of its neighbour, so do you in your self-expression steal the light, the understanding, the happiness of another, and so create sorrow, misfortune, and weariness. True self-expression must be the outcome of the love of life, which is freedom, which is perfection. Then you cannot come into conflict with another. Then you will have true friendliness for your neighbour. Then you will know that unity of which you speak so glibly. The moment you lose the love of life and interpose your self-expression between you and the eternal, in your limitation you are bound to suffer, to create pain for yourself and others. For that reason you should know what is the final fulfillment of all life. When once you have a vision of perfection, as part of yourself, in translating that vision -which again is self-assertion- ÂŹlies true creation. Creation to most people means building houses, painting pictures, writing poems. That is not true creation; that is only the creation of the self in limitation. True creation is the outcome of that harmony which is perfection, the delicate poise of reason and of love. Life itself is creation; life itself is the greatest artist. Directly you are able to attain perfection, you are also becoming the true creator because you are one with life itself. You cannot escape from self-assertion, because existence itself is self-assertion. But the self must be made perfect through self-assertion, through the realization that as long as that self-assertion is within bondage, within limitation, it is bound to create sorrow and pain. When you break down that limitation, because you have understood, you will have fathomed the love of life.
Leave me be Sorrow, sorrow why must you take me so Why have you left me in such a big hole Sorrow, sorrow when will you leave my soul And let me finally breath so There is nowhere to go If you keep beating on my heart so Sorrow, sorrow its your time to go Let your heart leave from my soul
Philosophical themes- a new series [III]
Existentialism
Jean Paul Sartre: Pioneer of existential philosophy Human beings perhaps are the only animals who define themselves through the act of living. Without life there can be no meaning; the search for meaning in existentialism is the search for the self. In other words, we define ourselves by living; suicide would indicate you have chosen to have no meaning. Existentialism is about being a saint without God; being your own hero, without all the sanction and support of religion or society, so says Anita Brookner (b. 1938), British novelist and art historian. Existentialism is not dark. It is not depressing. Existentialism is about life. Existentialists believe in living — and in fighting for life. Sartre, Camus, and even Nietzsche, pioneers of existential philosophy were involved in various wars because they believed passionately in fighting for the survival of their nations and peoples. Existentialism believes that mankind has the free will. The man once separated from its creator is free, free to choose and free to accept the tension and responsibility of his choices. Life is a series of choices and our choices create stress. For existentialism, responsibility is the dark side of freedom. When individuals realize that they are completely responsible for their decisions, actions, and beliefs, they are overcome by anxiety. They try to escape from this anxiety by ignoring or denying their freedom and their responsibility. The existentialists insist that individuals must accept full responsibility for their behavior, no matter how difficult. If an individual is to live meaningfully and authentically, he or she must become fully aware of the true character of the human situation and bravely accept it. Existentialism assumes we are best when we struggle against our nature. Mankind is best challenging itself to improve, yet knowing perfection is not possible. Religions give us rules, yet the believers in religions know they cannot live by all of those rules. The “sin-free” life is beyond human nature. Is that any less reason to live and to try to be good, generous, caring, and compassionate? Perfectionism is considered unhealthy both by psychiatrists and existentialists. Existentialism requires the active acceptance of our nature. There are certain things which are absurd and without explanation. Professor Robert Olson noted that we spend our lives wanting more and more. Once we realize the futility of worldly desire, we try to accept what we have. We turn to philosophy or religion to accept less. We want to detach from our worldly needs but we cannot do so. It is the human condition to desire; to want, to seek more, even when that more is “more of less.” There is a desire to prove something to ourselves, as well as to others. Olson writing in Existentialism [p. 14] says further, “The existentialists … mock the notion of a complete and fully satisfying life. The life of every man, whether he recognizes it or not, is marked by irreparable losses. Man cannot help aspiring toward the goods of this world, nor can he help aspiring toward the serene detachment from the things of this world which the traditional philosopher sought; but it is not within his power to achieve either of these ambitions, or having achieved them to find therein the satisfaction he had anticipated.”
No. 1/2012
&Lo.kZ ts-
…. ekufld o v/; v/;kfRed /;kfRed fopkj n’kZu
July-August 2012
pfy;s ’kk’or xaxk dh [kkst djsa
ns’k esa cgrh gS tks xaxk og gS D;k\ og ikuh dh /kkjk gS ;k Kku dh\ HkbZ nksuksa gh rks cg jgh gSa lkFk lkFk] ’krkfCn;ksa ls! vkt bDdhloha ’krkfCn esa ysfdu n`’; dqN vkSj gS- bl egku~ ns’k dh nks egku~ /kkjk;sa vc ’kk’or ugha] ’kq} ugha] ey jfgr ugha- /kkjk esa Qalk gS Kku ;k Kku esa Qal xbZ gS /kkjk! dkSu tkusa fdl us fdl ds cgko dks vo:) fd;k\ Kku rks Fkk ekxZ&n’kZd ekuoh; psruk dk] ekuork dh cqf) dk- iz[kj djrk Fkk psruk dks] cqf) dks- Kku rks Fkk dsoy okn vkSj okn Fks egk&Kku egk&xaxk dh egk /kkjk;sa] laokn ds okgd vkSj fooknksa ls nwj-++
ekuoh; dzwjrk dk vFkkg ey vc Kku rksa Kku dh Hkzkafr gS ek=! Kku dk vo’ks"k gS dsoy! <sjksa ds <sj ’kCn Kku] fo|ky;ksa] egk&fo|ky;ksa] fo’o&fo|ky;ksa ls cgrk gqvk] oknksa laoknksa dks] ppkZ;ksa dks xksf"B;ksa dks >syrk gqvk] ekuoh; psruk dh fueZy eankfduh dk jkLrk jksds cSBk gS- ’kk’or lR; dh fueZy /kkjk dks cka/ks cSBk gS! ekuork dh cqf) dks Hkzfer fd;s gq, gS\ og Kku jkS’kuh ugha pdkpkSa/k gS dsoy! iraxksas dh HkhM+ gS- /ku o [;kfr dh ywV gS- xaxk D;k dgs\ brus okn tks bDdV~Bs gks x;s gSa vkSj brus laokn fd ykmM Lihdj de iM+ x;s gSa- LVstsa iVh gSa O;k[;kdkjksa ls iaMky iVs gSa Jksrk;ksa ls- vkneh ogha :dk gqvk gS] vkRek ogha [kM+h gS] va/ksjk ftruk vanj gS mruk gh ckgj! xaxk dh rks ewd okf.k gS dkSu lqu ik;sxk\ ykmM Lihdjksa ls fudys os lkjs okn&laokV rks xaxk th dk gh lhuk Hksnsaxs- os lkjs yksd ds izyksd ds O;k[;kdkj! os ijks{k vijks{k Kku ds ckaVus okys! os lkjs uhfr ds Kkuoku! os Kku ds uhfrK! tks dksbZ t+jk lk Hkh Kkfu gks tkrk gS&cl lc ls igys viuk Kku xaxk th dks ns Mkyrk gS- Kku dh foLr`r xaxk esa viuk Kku vfiZr djus ugha Qsad Mkyus ds vankt+ esa dgrk gS& ^gs xaxs! --- rqe rks Kku dh egklkxj gks! eSa viuk rqPN Kku rq>s vfiZr dj jgk gwa-* vc Jh xaxk eb;k] chp esa lkal jksds] chekjksa lk mPpkj.k fy;s jks iM+rh gS&
^vHkh vkSj fdruk Mkyksxs vkSj fdruh lfn;ksa rd- esjs vkj vkSj esjs ikj clus okys esjs cPpksa dks Kku dh ugha Kku ls fudkyus dh t+#jr gS---*
/kkjk esa Qalk gS Kku ;k Kku esa Qal xbZ gS /kkjk Kkuh pqIi! Xakxk mls ,sls lacksf/kr gksxh! fnXHkzfer! grizHk!! ---tUetkr xwaxs lk!!! ,d ,d ’kCn tksM+ dj dgrk gS^vkg! xaxs D;k dg fn;k! D;k dg jgh gks--* xaxk th dh chekj okf.k& ^ikl vkvks rks dqN dgwa- cw<+h gks xbZ gwa- bruk lkQ+ Li"V ugha cksy ldrh tSls rqe LVstksa ij ?kaVksa izoPku djrs gks- ’kCn de gSa esjs oks Hkh u lwu ik;s rks--- viuk gkFk nks vkSj viuk dku Hkh---* Kkuh fdadrZO;foewM+] dgrk dqN ugha- ;a=or ---cSB tkrk gS xaxk th ds ikl- BaMs ty dh /kkjk Tkks ekuo ey ls /kqa/kyh gks pqdh gS mldh nsg vkSj vkRek nksuks dks fHkxks jgh gS! Jh xaxk mokp& ^_f’k eqfu yksxksa us ---esjs cPps! osnksa dh iqjk.kksa dh jpuk dh- vius Kku ls le`) fd;k ekuo eu- iwjk pkSfxjnk okrkoj.k- ij os ekuo eu dks u cny lds- ekuo eu oSlk gh cuk jgk& diVh! yksHkh! Dkeqd! eksg&xzLr! Lkfn;ksa ls& vkt rd- le> esa ugha vkrk diV vkSj Kku ,d lkFk dSls jg ysrs gSa ekuo eu esa! rc mu izd`fr ds iqtkjh] dsoy ewyHkwr rRoksa dks nsoRo nsus okys] mu egk&eqfu;ksa egk&_f’k;ksa us tkuk & Kku ls ek;k dk uk’k ugha gksrk! cfYd Kku ls ek;k vtc <ax ls #ikaf=r gks tkrh gS! Kku ls ek;k dks vkSj cy feyrk gS! ftruh cM+h O;k[;k ek;k dh] mruk cM+k ek;k dk iklkj! ftruk cM+k Kkfu mruk cM+k ek;k dk iqtkjh! xaxk dgrh jgha ^rks mu yksxksa us] osnkar dh mifu’knksa dh jpuk dh- Kku ls ckgj ;kfu tks tku fy;k- tks tku fy;k ml dks fNikus dk dkcw djus egk&_f’k;ksa us Kku dks dsoy cqf) dh le> ekuk vkSj vuqHkwfr ’kCnksa ds ek;ktky ls ugha Hksnk tk ldrk- ’kCnksa ds lkSan;Z ls mls
fudyus dh ;qfDr crkbZ ekuo dks- Kku dk <ax cMh vklkuh ls eu lh[k ysrk gSdks mPpre-1 crk;k fd izkd`fr ds lR; dks dqN ysuk nsuk ugha- izkd`fr dk og egkure
lR; dsoy vkRek (Self) dh le> esa vkrk gS- nks vkRek;sa Hkh tqM+sa rks HkhM+ curh gS- dsoy ,d vkRek! dsoy ,d ikjczg~e! dsoy ,d rkj dsoy ,d jkLrk! laokn ls curk gS igys okn fQj fookn- Kkuh dk] HkDr dk] laokn flQZ ml ls gksrk gS ftls og tkuuk pkgrk gS&vkRek] lSYQ ;k ikjczg~e- og viuk ek/;e Lo;a] Lo;a dk xq#] [kqn dk iqtkjh- fdlh vU; ek/;e] xq# dk iqtkjh dk bl Kku ls dksbzZ fj’rk ugha-
xaxk dgrh jgha&Kkfu lqurk jgk ^rqe bruk rke&>ke djrs gks! bruh ;krk;kr] bruh lapkj O;oLFkk! bruh eksVj xkfM+;ka! ykmM Lihdj! esjs ikfu;ksa ij] esjs fdukjksa ij mu vutku HkDrksa dks ykus ds fy;s! t+jk lkspks ,d fnu esa fdrus! ,d lky esa fdrus!
diV vkSj Kku ,d lkFk dSls jg ysrs gSa ekuo eu esa vkSj fdruh lfn;ksas rd! esjs cPps! dsoy ekuo ey dh ckr ugha dj jgh] mls eSa <ks ywaxh- os ru dk eSy Qsdsa ;k eu dk] bldh Hkh ijokg ugha! ij bruk ;krk;kr! bruk rke&>ke! bruh IykfLVd! brus fn;s! bruh ckfr;ka! brus Q+y&Qwy iwtk lexzh! gLrfufeZr nsoh nsoksa dh izfrek;sa! bu lc ls eSa ekurh gwa fd :Brh gaw! eSa :Bwa rks D;k ck<+ ykma\ dksbZ iwNrk gS\ eSa lk{kkr izkd`fr gwa rqEgkjs eafnj dh izfrek ugha] HkkbZ esjs lkFk u [ksyks- fQj brus yksxksa dh bruh xkfM+;ka! mu lc ds dy&iqtkZ x~g] os lkjs dkj[k+kus! lkSan;Z&izlk/uksa dh] twrksa dh pIiyksa dh cM+h cM+h QSDVfj;ka! mu ls fudyrk jklk;.kd t+gj! tks tk;sxk esjs ikfu;ksa esa rks D;k gky gksxk eq> esa cls esjs izkf.k;ksa dk\ Hkkjr Hkj esa gh ugha] fo’o Hkj esa eSa ejrs izkf.k dh I;kl cq>krh gwa! ij eSa Lo;a izkf.k dh e`R;q dk dkj.k cuwa! eq> vkHkkfxu dks D;ksa ikiksa dh Hkkfxu cukrs gks\ ewd xaxk dh okf.k Kkuh lqurk jgk- ml ds dkuksa esa jl ugha fi?kyk lhlk My jgk Fkk] ’kk;n! Tkks ns jgk Fkk mls vlguh; nnZ! xaxk dgrh jgha& ^vkSj rqEgkjs Kkuh x.k dsoy ikjczg~e dk jkLrk gh ugha crkrs- ftl ikjczg~e dk efUnj flQZ vkRek gksrh gS /kjrh ij os crkrs gSa efUnj ;gka ugha ogka cusxk! vkSj ;gka ls mB dj fdl ns’kh fons’kh Hkxoku dk ?kj rksM+uk gS- fdrus fnyksa dks rksM+uk gS- lc dk fglkc cuk j[kk gS lc O;oLFkk dj j[kh gS- ekuo ey dk cks> eSa <ks ywaxh- ij ekuoh; dzwjrk ds bl vFkkg ey dks os esjs ikfu;ksa esa Qsad vkrs gS! os lc Kkuh x.k! bruk cM+k vge~ latks;s j[krs gSa- okn dk de izpkj djrs gSa vkSj fooknksa dk T;knk----! rqe ije vkRek dh [kkst djrs gks\ ije vkRek dh [kkst djus okyksa dh enn djrs gks\ lquks] lqu ldrs gks vxj! ijekRek rqEgkjs ’kCnksa ds <sj ds uhps nck iM+k gS! vkRek rqEgkjs Kku ds uhps flld jgh gS! og yk[k+ksa djksM+ksa HkDrksa dh HkxnM+! Tkks vdlj gksrh gS] ;gka rqe yk[kksa dh HkhM bDV~Bh djrs gks os lgdrs izkf.k! rqe yksx Hkwy tkrs gks eSa ugha Hkwyrh- ekuo bruk rqPN gS rqEgkjs fy;s! ekuork bruh NksVh gS D;k\ xaxk vLQqV okf.k esa dgrh jghaKkuh Hkkoqd gks x;k-
dqN cksyrs u cuk- ogka ls mB [kM+k gqvk-k mls Mj yxus yxk fd ogka cSBk jgk rks ekuoh; ey dk ;k ’kk;n ekuoh; eu dk dksbZ fgLlk NksM+ nsxk xaxk th esa ?kqyus ds fy;s! vHkh rd dqN /kkjk rks cph gS&lkQ+! LoPN! fueZy! vHkh rd dqN Kku rks cpk gS&’kq)! ’kk’or! egku~re lR;! ekuoh; dq.Bk;ksa] ekuoh; vge~] vkSj ekuoh; eu ls vizHkkfor! tks izfd`rh ds fu;eksa ds va=xr gh varl~ esa mrjk vkSj tSlk vk;k oSlk ckaV fn;k x;k x;k- rFk vkxr rFkkxr! ij dqN dgrs u cuk- ogka ls mB [kM+k gqvk-k igyk izopu fn;k& pfy;s ’kk’or xaxk dh [kkst djsa ^pfy;s ’kk’or xaxk dh [kkst djsa- egkuqHkko! ’kk’or xaxk dsoy ikuh dh xaxk ugha- ’kq) ’kk’or lR; dh xaxk- vth--- vki gfjn~okj ds ikl] gfj}kj bykgkckn laxe ds ikl ls gks gks dj py fn;s okfil vius ?kj vius dkjksckj! vkb;s FkksM+k mRrj fn’kk esa HkVdsa! vkb;s ’kk’or xaxk dh [kkst djsa! dgka rd pysaxs vki\ vki nsgjknwu ---- xaxks=h ;k xkSeq[k rd! xaxk th dk mn~xe~ LFkku! vth #fd;s er er- FkksM+k vkSj mij pysa! xaxk th ;gka Hkh ’kk’or ugha-;gka Hkh cjru Mqckrs gSa yksx] gkFk Hkh Hkh- FkksM+k vkSj mij pysa! ogka ;gka LQsn cQZ dh pknj fcNh gS!
vkleku ls mrjrh cj[kk gh ’kq) ’kk’or xaxk gS
LQsn #bZ lh cQZ! ;k cj[kk dh gydh Qqgkj! Tk+jk psgjs ij yxus nsa! psgjs ij] nsg ij] vkRek ij! t+jk mij vkleku dh vksj ns[ksa! vkleku ls mrjrh cj[kk dks ns[ksa! ogka ls vfojy xaxk th /kkjk cg jgh gS! vkleku ls mrjrh xaxk! LoxZ ls /kjrh ij vkrh xaxk! ’kq) ’kk’or xaxk! _x~&oSfnnd d xaxk! ikSjkf.kd xaxk! lR; ;qx dh dfy;qx esa cgrh xaxk! og ekuo ey jfgr xaxk! dsoy viuk rst fy;s! ’kk;n dgsaxs vki& ;g LoxZ ls vkrh xaxk! vjs ---;g ;g rks ogh xaxk gS ftlds n’kZu ftl dk vglkl eSa vius ?kj dh eq.Msj ij ---VSjsl ij] vk’kkM+ esa ---Jko.k ----HHkknks kknksa esa] lky ds cgqr lkjs fnu] eSa djrk gwa! esjs rks ikl Fkh ;g xaxk! ;g ’kq) ’kk’or xaxk! vkSj eSa xaxk ----og ----og ifo= unh dh [kkst esa] igqap tkrk Fkk] gfjn~okj ---dk’kh -----laxe!!! &Lo.kZ ts¿ 1le> le> vkSj vuqHkwfr*% Kkuoku yksxksa esa cgqrkr us izekRek kRe dks le>k ;kfu Understand fd;k gS- flQZ dqN ,d us izekRek dh vuqHkwfr ;kfu Realisation dh gS- À
Signs and Symptoms of a Coffee Addict He grinds his coffee beans in his mouth. He sleeps with his eyes open. He has to watch videos in fast-forward. The only time he is standing still is during an earthquake. He can take a picture of himself from ten feet away without using the timer.
He has worn out his third pair of tennis shoes this week. His eyes stay open when he sneezes. He chews on other people's fingernails. The nurse needs a scientific calculator to take his pulse. He so jittery that people use his hands to blend margaritas. He can type sixty words per minute with his feet. He can jump-start his car without help. He don't sweat, he percolates. He walks twenty miles on his treadmill before he realizes it's not plugged in. He forgets to unwrap coffee candy before eating them. He has built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers. People gets dizzy just watching him. Instant coffee takes too long.
He channel surf faster without a remote. He has a picture of coffee mug on his coffee mug. He can outlast the Energizer bunny. He shorts out motion detectors. He doesn't even wait for the water to boil anymore. His nervous twitches register on the Richter scale. He helps his dog chase its tail. He soaks your dentures in coffee overnight. He first-aid kit contains two pints of coffee with an I.V. hookup. He skis uphill. He gets a speeding ticket even when he is parked. He answers the door before people knock. He hasn't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
दोपहर ढलने को है । आकाश अभी खल ु ा था, फर जोर क हवाएं आयीं और अब काल! बद"लय# म% वह ढका जा रहा है । सूरज (छप गया है और हवाओं म% ठं डक है । एक फक र .वार पर आया है । उसके हाथ म% एक तोता है। 1पंजरा नह!ं है , पर 2दखता है क तोता उड़ना भूल गया चुका है । आते ह! फक र नह!ं, तोता ह! बोला है , 'राम कहो, राम कहो, रामराम।..राम ..' म6ने कहा, 'तोता तो अ7छा बोलता है ।' फक र बोला, 'महाराज, यह तोता बड़ा पं8डत है !' यह सुन मुझे हं सी आ गयी। म6ने कहा, 'होना चा2हए, ;य# क सभी पं8डत तोते ह! होते ह6!' यह मुझे बहुत <प=ट 2दखता है क ?ान सीखने से नह!ं आता है और जो सीखने से आता है , वह ?ान नह!ं है । ?ान ब1ु @ क उपलिBध नह!ं है । बु1@ <म(ृ त है और <म(ृ त से नह!ं, <म(ृ त से हट जाने से ?ान आता है । जो सीख जाता है , वह तोता बन जाता है । इस तोतारटन का नाम पां8डGय है ।पां8डGय मत ृ तHय# का संIह है । ये तHय सब आधार ह6। अनुभ(ू त म% इनक कोई जड़े नह!ं होती ह6। इन मत ृ तHय# से (घरा LचGत, उसके दशMन नह!ं कर पाता है , जो क 'है '। ये तHय परदा बन जाते ह6। इस परदे को हटाने पर अ?ात का उदघाटन होता है। यह दशMन ह! ?ान है ।
Poetry Extraordinary
A JOURNEY BEYOND SORROWS -Dr. Swaran J So’n Chidi [The Golden Sparrow] is an extraordinary piece of poetry from Aassi’s fifth and last anthology ‘NIRDESHAK’, published posthumously. Aassi [1964-2001] who died at the very young age of 37, was a Punjabi poet of great possibilities. In the present verse Aassi talks of a journey, a journey through
Literary merit and also the aesthetic
aspect
of
this
the dark recesses of the mind. Why he undertakes such a journey? In
remarkable piece of poetry
a journey of thoughts and journey with thoughts one is helpless to talk
are to be decided by the
of a choice. A choice between continuous voyage or to be held back! It
laureates.
is a state of progress, which only moves forward. But this sort of progress further advances into two identical states with often very diverse and dissimilar consequences. Most of the thinkers regress in a cyclical path. Here identical thoughts keep on
Here
we
are
discussing the incorporeal and supposedly spiritual aspect of this journey of thoughts. A sort of journey which sometimes each of
repeating themselves causing much distress to the thinker. But a
us undertakes but often
thinker in a truly meditative poise continues with the journey without
held back before taking the
any preconceived notion.
final plunge. -Swaran J.
Contemplation of such kind occurs only in a heightened state of awareness, an awareness, in which one is never tense or hurried. Zen master Yasutani Roshi describes this state in similar words. For him this is the mind of somebody facing death. Let us imagine that you are engaged in a duel of swordsmanship. As you face your opponent you are increasingly watchful. Were you to relax your vigilance even for a second you would be cut down to pieces. He relates this analogy with the outer life. In the inner world you nevertheless are in a frame of warrior but here war is among thoughts. Your opponent is the counter thought or the thought that dissociates from the original thought. By doing so it tends to kill the former. You become the battle ground of thoughts, a dark arena of ignorance. That seems the exact situation as Aassi describes: In that gloomy thick forest; unable to ferret out way I sink in the sea of darkness; no hope, no gleam, no ray Heroically I fight back; for how long would I stay I receive back the hurts; for hurts that I pay But this battleground, this you, this awareness is separate from the mob of warrior thoughts. You will have to keep them separate. Mostly the thinkers join with battle. They join with the thoughts; either the same or the opposite thought. The wakeful distress of being the battleground
SO’N CHIDI -Aassi
Hanehere da sanghana jangal rah nazar na aave jind daraya kalakh’ch gote khaave kise yuddh’ch soorme vangoon main zakham khavan, var jhallan meri aas bandhave eh leh-lahaunda vejayee jhanda roshani da so’n parcham eh thartharaundi hoi nimani mo’mbatti es de garam tepiyan noo main talian te buchchan kasees vattan bebassi ka’har dhave hava shikhr di chanani di laat kambe meri so’ch kambe aukaat kambe khelhan noo jalavatni mere hisse aayee rangan da jhutha sachcha aassra main sirj liya kite tan udeekada hoega budda Dashrath kade taan mukkega banvaas Chandra kite taan hoegee Kaushalaya tatpar karke ghar di munder te deep raushn nal na koi Lashman shashtardhari turdi hai tan mahaz ek agg vichari kade tharthrave kampkampave bujhan hi lagge akhari chingari vi antim sahara vi agle hi pal dolh deve mere upper umeedan da pura samundar chehkade parinde vangoon kholh deve mere sanhven kise naven brahmand da darvaza te meri ungali pakar ke badali di ek sarani banaun da val sikhave mere lahu’ch balada diva, sookde tufan phir vi tor riha hai mainu jiven har gote pichhon dariya uchhalada hai jiv nu upparali sateh val kadam dar kadam, safar dar safar janam dar janam eh kaun hai jo mere nal hai piran’ch paruche hoi vi ek Jamaal hai jo samarpit hai mainu pani mitti agni samet
SO’N CHIDI [THE GOLDEN SPARROW]Translated by-J.Swaran In that gloomy thick forest unable to ferret out way I sink in the sea of darkness no hope, no gleam, no ray heroically I fight back for how long would I stay I receive back the hurts for hurts that I pay I hopefully hold that beaming flag and in my hands it lay agonizing pain of hot wax that makes me loose my sway of the tiny flickering candle I carry on my way my helplessness and fury of wind with trembling thoughts they play which make me quiver like flame I carry on the way It was altogether an exiled existence I endured to this day yes, I had some old delights with them I however play There may be waiting that old Dasharatha along anxious Kaushalaya and they may be putting lamps on the house’ roof in the past foregone way and with me now is no one nor armed Lakshmana who slay only trembling tiny flame that walks with me anyway About to get extinguished last remains of candle that stay with its last bit to rely! Yes, you can say whole stockpile of hopes come apart the moment next and they open for me the door to eternity enormous bliss and joy lead me to the place [where I can] arrange my nights and day’ the alert that aflame my blood still pushes me through anyway as waves that push the drowning ones to the sea-shore they lay or sun that rouse me every morn’ and open my next day to the next step, the next beginning or the next genesis! You may say In whose enchanting presence [now] I am wholly dedicated to me? Pray! has turned it into a great ecstasy
jis’chon talashada han main apne hon di paribhasha main te meri mo’mbatti kina suhavana hai eh hanehra jo de riha hai mainu pukhatagi bhariya eh sukhad dukh
that distress of thorny way’ who now will define my new being is it me, my candle or say? how blissful is now this bleak darkness how joyful are woes of the day!! -Translated by-J.Swaran
of thoughts is now replaced by pleasure or sorrow of the thoughts. This sort of pleasure or sorrow does not open new vistas. It comes and goes on cyclically. But this concentrated awareness is the only light you have on this unlit murky path. This itself may be the source of distress, for to remain in the sustained state of awareness you have to put an effort to it. As points out Aassi: agonizing pain of hot wax; that makes me loose my sway of the tiny flickering candle; I carry on my way my helplessness and fury of wind; with trembling thoughts they play which make me quiver like flame; I carry on the way Thinker in Aassi does not satisfy himself with this linear journey. He adopts many ways and many forms and during the journey. While in an emotional mould his thoughts create images of fellow journeyers who have been separated long back. He is distressed by their absence: There may be waiting that old Dasharatha along anxious Kaushalaya and they may be putting lamps on the house’ roof in the past foregone way Or he takes another turn of partially compromising with the situation and finding help from within: and with me now is no one; nor armed Lakshmana who slay only tiny trembling flame [of consciousness] that walks with me anyway Literary merit and also the aesthetic aspects of this remarkable piece of poetry are to be decided by the laureates. Here we are discussing the incorporeal and supposedly spiritual aspect of this journey of thoughts. A sort of journey which sometimes each of us undertakes but often held back before taking the final plunge. But Aassi takes the risk of entering into the perils of unknown. This final decision does not come out of the logical mind. Neither this is the act of will nor that of wisdom. It is the moment where every
rationality of the mind is to be kept away. It is the end of everything known. It comes instantaneously. It is the end of both acceptance and rejection. About to get extinguished; last remains of candle that stay’ Its last bit to rely! Oh! yes, you can say Whole stockpile of hopes come apart; the moment next and they Open for me the door to eternity; enormous bliss and joy Lead me to the place [where I can]; arrange my nights and day’ While talking about this transition from the rational worldly mould to the higher thoughtless mould Aassi does not elaborate much on this point. Perhaps nobody is able to. Any description of it will come out only from thoughts and memory, the things which are in the frame of time. So how can Aassi talk about the things which are timeless? How can a thoughtless state be described with the activity of thoughts? But still he claims it to be the act of forces within his very being: The alert that aflame my blood; still pushes me through anyway As waves that push the drowning ones; to the sea-shore they lay Or sun that rouse me every morn’; and open my next day To the next step, the next beginning; or the next genesis! You may say Is this the end of journey or its beginning? For him definitely this is the beginning. He does not even hesitate to call it the next genesis [birth]. This contact with the ultimate reality is only to be perceived; only to be experienced. This is not to be conceptualized or described within the framework of worldly languages. You cannot taste sweet simply by uttering the word ‘sweet’. Neither can you describe sweetness in a way that others can experience similar sweetness. For the correct understanding you will have to eat something sweet. As he says: In whose enchanting presence [now] I am; wholly dedicated to me, pray! has turned it into a great ecstasy; that distress of thorny way’ who now will define my new being; is it me, or my candle, say? how blissful now this bleak darkness; how joyful are woes of the day!! Aassi has experienced this sweetness. For him now even woes are now blissful. He is now with his real existence. This is the end of sorrow, as Buddha, the enlightened one once spoke about this sphere of
real existence of man for our understandings.
For me this So’n Chidi is what his
real existence is. The existence, where he now acts from an all empty and free consciousness and not from one that is sullied by memory and ego and with restricted choices. This symbolic weightless, golden sparrow is now separated from the heavy, worldly ego. Though he is not unresponsive to the painful consequences of his choices in this new existence, but he is free now. Free to choose and free to accept the tension and responsibility of his choices.☼
A Tear And A Smile By: Khalil Gibran I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart For the joys of the multitude. And I would not have the tears that sadness makes To flow from my every part turn into laughter. I would that my life remain a tear and a smile. A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding Of life's secrets and hidden things. A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods. A tear to unite me with those of broken heart; A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence. It would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live Weary and despairing. and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody. The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment. A tear and a smile. The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come Together and area cloud. And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to Return to the sea, its home. The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting. A tear and a smile. And so does the spirit become separated from The greater spirit to move in the world of matter And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death And return whence it came. To the ocean of Love and Beauty----to God.
EXPRESSIONS… A periodic bulletin of psycho-spiritual thoughts….
FOR CIRCULATION AMONG FRIENDS ONLY
Suggestion and new ideas are invited. You may send them via email or SMS. Creative work in any form i.e. poetry, short story or article are also invited BULLETIN EDITOR - Dr. Swaran J. Associate Prof. Physiology Deptt. Govt. Medical College Amritsar [M] 9815621557 e-mail – omcawr_sj2@indiati mes.com
There is a story which Sayyad Jalaluddin Rumi tells of an ant that’s creeping across the carpet in a mosque, and the ant complains to God saying: “what is this, these bumps, and strange colors, and patterns, this must have been created just as a meaningless obstacle course, what a futile thing to have made.” But of course the carpet maker, looking at it from above can see the patterns and the purpose of it, and can see that the whole thing is perfect and is good. And Allah is often like that. We often can’t make sense of the misfortunes we encounter most often because we are two dimensional, we are at ground level, we can’t see what it all means, but God knows even if he can’t always see that this is a manifestation of Allah’s will which is always good and always perfect and always beautiful. P;wwafV ,d dgkuh gS tks lS;n tykyqíhu :fe dgk djrs Fks& fd ,d P; tks efLtn esa fcNh njh ij py jgh Fkh vkSj pyrs oyrs [kqnk ls f’kdk;r ls cksyh]^;g D;k ekSyk] bruh flyoVsa] brus cy vkSj vtc vtc jax] u ckuxh u :i] rqeus ’kk ’kk;n esjs gh jkLrs esa :dkoV Mkyus ds fy, ;g cseryc dk igkM [kMk dj j[kk gS*- ij mij ls ns[k jgk cqudj] ftl us njh rS;kj dh ns[k dj crk ldrk gS fd njh dh ckuxh :i jax lc lgh gSa nks"k jgr gSa- [kkyd dh [kyDr Hkh ,slh gh gS- ftanxh esa gesa tks nq[k feyrs gSa tks gesa cseryc yxrs gSa- ij ml P;wafV dh rjg ge tehu ij gSa- ge mij ls ns[k ugha ikrs fd ;g lc fdruk lgh gS] tjk lk Hkh cseryc ugha…. PSYCHO-SPIRITUAL THOUGHTS July-August 2012
BULLETIN EDITOR - Dr. Swaran J. [M] 9815621557 e-mail – omcawr_sj2@indiatimes.com