Flowing Thoughts of a Chest-nut

Childhood Calls

Chinmaya — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 12:56:53 +0000

Just accept. How easy it is

from the womb of the nature to

the tomb that is nature

Stop pretending; its bliss

If what I say is what I mean

No hidden agendas, maybe impure but clean

no retentions no pretensions

no worry of what you think

for what I say is what I mean

there is no guilt, there is no guilt

For there are no hidden intentions

No retentions No pretensions

There is nothing to hide, I am nude

not civilized, I am crude

you see me, you know me

that is all that I am, No enigma

not larger than life. Spontaneity

for there is no precept

All you need to do is, just accept,

Just accept. Just accept.

With the open eyes

Chinmaya — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 20:06:24 +0000

What was it that I was looking at?
It has all changed and gone
Though it stands in flesh and blood
But not as I had always known

Looking you like I always liked
Looking you like you never were
With my open eyes I look at my lies
Not you but my surmise

Here, there and all around
It’s all the echoes of my sound
Did I ever give my ear?
I spoke and spoke and never did hear

You are just one and there is world around
Not as it is, but as I have mis-found
Now that the eyes are open and the mind is clear
I see new things, as I steer

Don’t Stop

Chinmaya — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 18:43:16 +0000

Songs have lost their inspiration

Or maybe now they are inspired

The light is fading in the mind and heart

With the cooling fire of the pyre

I wonder why I don’t remember you any more

With my eyes closed you aren’t there before

Just there is a thought

Where have you gone?

I open my eyes and close again

But you are gone, yes, you are gone.

LOCUSTS

Chinmaya — Wed, 14 Sep 2011 20:40:37 +0000

Through the wide window of my room, in the 7^th floor apartment, I could clearly see the sky, still lying on my bed. Also I could see the city that sprawled all around, taller buildings at distance, numerous dwarf houses, occasional green patches, and a bustling road with shrill sounding high fuel efficiency bikes. The view of the blue sky was soothing, at least as long as I was in that air conditioned room.

And the sky started changing; now blue started dissolving in the background and in the foreground started appearing strange flying birds like a swarm of locusts, as if they would plague the city and in no time would cut off the sun light. On a keener observation I found out that these birds were metallic, they in fact were fighter planes.

They cut off the sunlight, their number was overwhelming, and they had plagued our city finally. Bombs started dropping from them like beat of birds, becoming bigger as they came nearer. Taller buildings were coming down, green patched were more of yellow fired patches.

I felt helpless as I had never felt before. With so many planes dropping bombs even the messiah could be sure of death. I found no use escaping, where would I escape to? Any other place would be only more dangerous. I was seeing death before my eyes. Any moment I would be dead. It was so different from what I had always thought the death would feel like. There were no memories, the life didn’t come flashing by before my eyes, and all notions of death were defied.

There was acceptance, fear, and helplessness. I had accepted the death, I was afraid just because of conditioning, and I could really do nothing with all the clout that used to linger all around me.

This day was to come and so it came.

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We would fight for everything. We would fight for food, water, air, land; you just name it. Our sole aim was superiority; there was nothing in absolute that we could be satisfied with. There was hatred in our hearts.

Only if we were one nation, we would we so prosperous. We would be all happy and would have so much in bountiful quantity. But we hated each other. We would get our heads slit rather than bow. Mutual agreement was well beyond our pride.

So we always fought. That had in fact become our reason to live; to kill the other.

We were as good as dead.

**********************************************************************************

I always wanted to have a house in the hills, in the quite of some valley, where I would have only minimal and could meditate day and night and relish the nature and live the natural way and die one day in the bosom of nature. If you accept nature’s way, nature cares for you. You can never starve at nature’s hands, if you learn to live in nature’s way. I wanted to drift back to the stage of primordial nature.

But I could not leave this civilisation, hardly civilised civilisation.

I had made numerous relations, bound myself with numerous obligations, getting out of this web seemed completely impossible.

**********************************************************************************

But that one day I left, left that 7^th floor apartment in which I lived. Long before the sun was awake I got up and just left. Walking the empty streets and reached the railway station, bought the cheapest ticket to the last station where-after the slope of the mountains stopped the wheel, where-after started the kingdom of nature in much of its primitive form.

Never before had I travelled in such a crowded, non air-conditioned coach in train. I sat at the door hanging both of my legs outside. There was no space to even stand inside.

The sun had finally awakened, the sky had gotten blue. The day had progressed and the train had moved some distance from the city. Then farther away I saw that in the background of blue sky, the city was stormed by strange birds like a swarm of locusts, as if it was plagued. Seeing better I found that the city was being bombed by fighter planes and I was aboard the last train that ever left that city.

Last order that I issued with my sovereign pen last night, before finally retiring to my suite on the 7^th floor, was to storm the enemy state with all our fighter planes, inundate the city state with all our bombs, and let the enemy state rest in death, the next dawn. And overwhelmed with my desire to live, meditate and die in nature’s bosom, I had taken the elevator to my room.

Like cloud the planes shadowed the city states and bombed them to death, ending the enmity forever and with no base left for the planes to return to.

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Reinventing God

Chinmaya — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 19:38:10 +0000

It becomes very easy if you can place your trust in something or someone, if you can believe in that one thing or being. Your trust may be rational, it may not be. What matters is faith. Believer’s life is easier than non believer’s. Non believers have taken a lot of burden onto themselves. They are really loaded with bag-pack full of stones.

For a believer, there is a source for almost everything, his divine object of faith. Beyond that he has not to think. But for non-believer the onus to find rationality of everything is unto himself.

Human being is not rational, but he always tries to be. There is a limit up to which he can move with this baggage of rationality. Many keep moving, many break down and many, better still, care not for rationality and take the leap of faith.

In life, a time may come when I find myself clinging to some object of faith, know that I have broken down.

Killing God is very easy and can be done very rationally so. But reinventing him is more fun, because that is liberation from the ego. The baggage of rationality brings a complacence, a very high opinion of oneself, consciously or ignorantly. Mostly that happens un-consciously. A rational man is able to identify the rationality of God for the believers, but what is implicit in this is that he holds rationality on top of faith (else why would he rationalise faith).

So once the burden overburdens you and you are near break-down and if you reinvent the God, it is bliss. Because you know importance of rationality and you know importance of faith and at the same time you can’t foster any longer your ego of rationality.

Realization

Chinmaya — Sun, 11 Sep 2011 15:35:12 +0000

Something happened, something very natural, in the wilderness, a battle of survival. Unfortunately none survived. There was nothing like the bigger fish eating the smaller. The bigger had the strength here and the smaller had the strategy. So both perished.

And I was an observer, not a neural one though. Quite unknown to both of them I had a liking for one. See I could not prevent in, it was all going in my dream. All through the battle I wanted my loved one to win. So as the things went, both perished. I was in grief. I lamented the loss of my loved one, I was in mourning.

But then as it happened, I woke up. Dream still lingered in my mind and so did that feeling of loss and sadness. But then something happened, a realization. I realized that in that battle of survival, both had perished, my loved one and his opponent and the battle was in no way an unjust one. The life of his opponent was as important as his, and so were their deaths. So why was I feeling bad just for my loved one?

Attachment. I felt attached with one and the loss made me sad.

Had I been truly an impartial observer, it means I would not have felt anything. But would that not be cruel and insensitive on my part?

I guess not. Because that battle was a fair one and I could not help in any way ( come on I was dreaming!), my feeling indifferent won’t account to any insensitivity in any way.

There is one more thing in it. Things are impermanent, and so are beings. They will come and go, as will you and me. Their coming may make us happy and their going may make us sad. Isn’t that just being human? That in fact is. But at the cost of understanding of reality.

Why would I like to understand reality? Anyways it is not the reality that works, it is the agreed on reality that works. And as is agreed on widely, we should lament separation from our loved ones.

I would like to move beyond the agreed on reality for I am not satisfied. Moreover that defies sense of justice.

If I am to move beyond this agreed-on reality, the norm, then would it not lend everything in chaos. The norms are to facilitate things and your unilaterally moving away from them would lead to chaos. Is that right?

I do not propose that, instead I propose to move to an agreement closer to reasonability, a contract based on justice, impersonal justice.

Would that be feasible? Is that practical? I see one benefit with this new norm at least, lesser contradictions and lesser pains. Utility will provide for feasibility in time. But that is a significant move, a radical move. So lets not take it en-masse, rather take it one by one, according to our capabilities. As and when we feel the need of that reasonability, we shall go for it. In no way will we impose it. Why? Because that would be against the justice that we are aspiring for. Our justice in humanistic and we will have to realize that if one is happy with lesser reasonable norms, as long as that doesn’t defy justice, we will have to respect that.

That would account to moving towards lessening emotions, is that right? This new impersonal-justice is entirely need based. If questions have started sprouting in your mind about the present agreed-on reality, only then should you go for this. You are lessening emotions here because that makes you satisfied as a human being. Satisfaction as a human being brings in enough subjectivity that qualifies you as human. Emotions are just a way in which subjectivity as a human being finds expression, and now if it is something else than emotions that satisfy you, it in no way makes you lesser human.

The gray area here is this notion of justice. That is largely how you would respond under the present norms when you are truly impartial in relation to a situation. Like had I been impartial in my dream, the way I would have responded. I place my trust in our present norms for that. As to what we call humanism right now would to much extent be this notion of justice. We are almost there. Though I would like to deal with Justice in forthcoming posts, I think this is quite sufficient here.

And I would cry

Chinmaya — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 16:34:13 +0000

I would look at the sky and cry, and cry. The sky was too big. stars were too many, it was difficult to comprehend and was little familiar. So I would cry. Mom would caress me, would rock me, would tell me songs, but so long I was under the sky, i would cry. Ans as soon as she would take me in, I would stop crying.

Later in life I would wake up in night and start crying. parents would try to silence me, would try to know the reason, would try to make me know that they were there.

There was a fear of loss. Lying on the bed i would think what would I do if my parents are lost. It scared me, I felt less secure, I would cry.

Still later in life I would cry in the nights. Was I growing into a sissy boy? The reason for crying now was different. The reason this time was death. I have been raised up with the idea of re-birth and Karma. What if I am born next time as a dog? I won’t even be able to speak! If born as human, I will have to learn everything all again. As if it is very easy learning this one time, how would I do it again? Temporary nature of things intrigued and worried me.

I would only cry at nights, perhaps because I had nothing to do at nights. There were just two TV channels that too Doordarshans! There was nothing to keep me busy in the night. Somehow crying would really relieve me.

My fears allayed with time. I stopped crying as I grew older. But that does not mean that my nights became any easier. There still were many doubts, many questions and many fears. And now they were only more. I had started feeling convenient with my present identity. Idea of death brought new doubts now. Would I feel this same ‘me’ in the next life? This feeling is better felt than written. To be more lucid, the one who is feeling himself as ‘Chinmay’ here-now, is he going to remain the same in the next life, even if he is born as a dog? Or to say it even better, is there going to be some common thread between my this existence and the next existence, the thread that I can associate with myself, which I can call myself. Or to say it still better, if this identity of myself is not permanent, is there something that I can call myself. Death would take this body and so would it take this consciousness, then what would remain that would be me, and how would I feel that if at all that could be felt. The answer is perhaps what we call the soul, ‘atma’, but I could never really feel that and that could mean to me nothing more than a concept. What I really wanted was some sort of realization that would put these questions to an end and not some rhetoric.

And this question would worry me though I would not cry.

You may laugh at all this, but all this was pretty real and raised horrible doubts in me. I still have found no answer, though have come to a truce with these questions.

Such questions when put before, may sound like even foolish doubts, but when they emanate from within, they really trouble a lot and nothing remains more important than the answer to these questions.

Row comrade row

Chinmaya — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 07:11:40 +0000

I am on a boat, rowing it. Shore is nowhere near, can not be seen. God damn it! I am so tired.
Trying to look ahead, I have never been able to see the coast where I can finally stop rowing and sit to rest. I was born on the boat and seems so that will die on it.
God damn it! I am so tired.
I stop rowing. In no time I see other boats passing mine and their boats men tell me, “Row comrade row, the end is near, no need to fear.”
I pick back my rows and start rowing again. I tell myself, “The coast is near, row.”
I am exhausted and so are other boats men, but we all row, for the coast is near.
I slow down, give up to my tiredness. I slow down further. And I stop. I stop rowing. I see that a few boats are nearing and will take me over in no time. And once again I will be told, as I always have been before whenever I have tried to stop, “Row comrade row, the end is near, no need to fear.” And I just throw away my oars in the water.
Boats come to me, concerned well wishers say to me, “Row comrade row, the end is near, no need to fear.”
“But I have lost my rows”, I reply. They look at each other and then at me and move.
I lie down on my boat, look at the clean sky, I relax. It’s so beautiful, blue water all around, the coming moon, the going sun. I sit; I see fishes playing near my boat. It feels great. It’s all so beautiful, it always has been, but rowing the boat I never could see, for all that I wanted to see was the coast, and that was not there.
But wait, more boats are coming. Oh! They are the same ones that took me over, whose boats men had asked me to row. Why are they coming back? One of them says, “Oh! You had lost your oars, how are you ahead of us?” I tell them, “I have stopped rowing; I am still there where we met earlier. You are coming back, why?” They look at each other and then at me and the elder one says to the rest, “Row children row, the end is near, no need to fear.”
I say, “Oh my friends, why do you seek the coast? To rest? So I am doing now.” They look at me, they are sceptic, and they slow down as they are already moving away. But they again speed up and move away. I lie down on my boat, look at the stars. Have they been this beautiful since ever?
I wake up. I see one more boat beside my boat. One of them has broken away and has joined me. He is staring at the sky, mesmerised.

Fighting me

Chinmaya — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 18:46:36 +0000

I don’t get over

Or I don’t want to get over

I don’t know

I love you and then I hate you

At one moment its all there

Another, its all over.

I think and then laugh

Laugh and then I think

Think think and laugh laugh

And you are gone!

Mind killed you, reason killed you

And now I feel all alone

For you are gone.

Brave, strong and reasonable

All I am that I should be

I am the man, I am the sword

But alas! Its not me

I am the one, helpless

Fighting no one else, but me

For I can not get over

Get over thee.

Book on hook

Chinmaya — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 17:25:19 +0000

Somebody’s status message on Facebook read sometime, ” You Give me a book, I’ll walk a mile for you.”

I myself am much into books and feel that there can be no better way to kill time otherwise. Kill time? Off-course, because I value first-hand experience more than any other way of learning. As of books, I have stopped reading fiction, almost. In my book shelf non-fictions have already out numbered fiction reads. Autobiographical, Biographical, Philosophical, Historical, Spiritual, Strategical…or simply non-fiction fill my shelf now.

Fiction is many times, or better say most of the times, one living his dreams in ink than in reality, and I hate that. Not the best novels you hear about are so, but many that have managed to make their way into this categorization of fiction are such. Simple fantasy doesn’t make much sense to me and neither does informed and well researched fantasy.

Books can make people and can mar them also. I have seen both extremes. But one problem that I have seen with most of the avid readers is that they start giving less importance to what is before them, the physical reality before them, they develop some mental forms/patterns in which they try to fit in all that is around. I have also seen people setting ideals reading books that are just fantasy or if not that, they try to imitate the character that all through tries to tell you to be yourself!

So here comes a point to be a bit cautious. Books are good, for me they are like must, but remaining in touch with reality and constantly refreshing yourself with the reason that you are reading something is very important. More important here is that you know the reason precisely why you are reading something. The reason may be as simple as that you like to spend some time reading a good fantasy, if you are up with such a book. If here you are good with your reason you won’t get unreasonable with the book, you won’t try to take out something more from the book. Say you are reading some philosopher’s theory and say he is telling you something on what form should a government be, and if you are just reading it and before this never has the question that “what kind of governance is superior?” has come to your mind, you may get swayed away by his opinion. And if say you have been pondering over this question of governance, maybe due to some contemporary situation/crisis in some nation, your reading various philosophers views would be really enhancing.

“You won’t know the real value of water, not till you are thirsty, and not till you are in a desert”

That is what I say that you should be good with your reason. The reason may not be a heavy-weight, but there should be and you need be clear about it, that you may not be left astray.