Serious Blogging? What do ya think?

#SeriousBlogging

Why do you blog?
A: Partly to make Butterflies and Wheels more frequently updated and more interactive (as well as that bit more interesting, I hope), but also because I think the world des-perately needs to hear my opinions, and I like to oblige.”
― Ophelia Benson

Has blogging reduced to meaningless activity? That’s for you to answer. For me my blogs are conversation with unknown person at a chaikhana.

Can bloggers make significant contribution to the society dealing with significant issues seriously?

What is a blog in the first place – a written material published on the web. If it is a verb then the action that creates the blog is also a blog while the person indulging in the activity is a blogger.

Why do most of us blog? Lets be honest we are doling out answers people don’t want to hear to questions they didn’t ask. Most of us advertise our opinion, some of us flaunt our language skills, what ever. Many of us who have voices and concerns that we would like to voice, but are reluctant to approach a publisher for whatever reasons, so blogs come to our rescue. Then are people who want information, then there are exhibitionists.

Each of us as bloggers are only as effective as our reader outreach.  Of course some of them in turn may have a greater range of influence. But as of now we just accept what www.Klout.com gives us just in case we are interested. Our readers connect to us depending on what they perceive as our credibility. If we are perceived as sincere despite the fact that people may disagree, our thoughts and our opinions get acknowledged, that in itself is a great achievement. Whether we can bring about a revolution ….I doubt… a change possibly. Just this morning I read Sucheta Dalal’s blog and took an appointment with my bank manager as I needed some answers.

What we write, is our choice, we can do it in all sincerity, with all conviction, its outcome depends on the reader and the attitude of the reader if the person is the kind to take to action they would, if the person is an armchair revolutionary then it would trigger debates, if you make someone uncomfortable, they could pelt stones at you, and if the person is an armchair delinquent then welcome to the world of internet trolling.

There are people who take on video-blogging, or podcasting, there are people who are working with language on the brink of extinction, to revive it they of course opt of Vblog or YouTube. If you are looking at the immediate revolution brewing in the backyard forget it, yes but we do influence people to an extent again instead of. Our arms circle, this time round we don’t know who we are influencing.

Well Tomichan Matheikal, it looks like you are bringing me back to introspection, and questioning. Thank You.

This blog is written for the 162nd Edition of Indispire.

The Weave, religion and Politics

Why religion?

Maybe it is a way of life I am not really very sure. What occurs to me is we are dealing with the divine right issue here.

Religion is essentially a state of religiosity, I would say sister Nirmal is in her 20th year of religion but saying Yogi Whateveranand is the 20th year of his religion sounds rather whacky.

In everyday life we look at religion as a personal or institutional set of practises. It means conformity, it eludes a cause of principle or system or belief held with ardent faith. Now here is the crux of the matter, my principle or your principle, you or me, me over you, makes me more powerful.

The non Abrahamic orient was quite happy in the texture of divine right, the king was divine, if he was human like Dhritarashtra then we sanctifying him by having a diety endorse him, like Krishna did to Yuddishtra, or a Brahmin sanctifying him using scriptures.

Interestingly in the abrahamic tradition, the first murder came out from an religious act, the offering brought to God by Abel and Cain the sons of Adam and eve, Cain the farmer offers the first fruits of the soil, while Abel the shepherd offers the first lamb, and god plays favourites… Cain’s jealousy gives way to rivalry and violence and viola murder happens. This pattern is still on just look at the story of Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau down the lineage, we have the Christians versus the Jews, Jews versus Muslims and Muslims versus the Christian and hellaluja,,, my bitchy conclusion comes at the end.

But think of it religion has spilt blood all through the Jain scriptures claim that Ravana was a Vidhyadhara prince, and the disciple of the 2nd Jina ajithanatha, he was killed by Rama who wanted to protect the animal sacrifice’s , and lo behold the story of winner became the story of God against demons.

Despite being healing religion maintains its killing side.

In this era of Trump and being fashionably  global perception of religion, and politics is,

  • Islamophobia
  • Gay marriages
  • Abortions etc.

In India it is about Islamophobia of course, other than that is about the altering north-Indian pattern of patriarchy. And south being confused, with northern values and ideology being flushed on them these are social issues and not religious. So how does religion play into politics… I could be wrong but this is what came in my space

Religion does effect political belief, at quite an individual level, if you look at it, religion could lead to political conversions and the vice-versa could happen too.

From political vantage, the choice people make is strongly influenced by their religious allegiance campaigns are framed on this, history shows that their people who have changed their religion for political gains, well lets me respectable and say beliefs.

  • To some people religion could be a shadow influence on the political belief, this is when they are part of particular religious groups so early that the symbols and narrative are part of the mindset, so despite of converting out it stays, these people tend to substitute strong political views for religious views. – to me this was the dominant generation that claims to have got us our independence. – this is also the space where we find our political activists.
  • Another set which is reverse of the previous, its starts with no religious afflation, and convert to a religion over time and this effects his political belief, the stage that our society is in today.
  • Then you have the political activist, where there is no political conversion, but simply consists of children keeping their family’s religious lifestyle by applying it to a political sphere which could foreign to their family, here religion fuels political activism, this is the space where the catholic clergy aiding the poor,comes from, we also have the VHP equivalent of educating the north-eastern youngsters.
  • Then there is a prototype where primacy is on the political arena than on religious experience, the person may or may not be engaged in religion. Though the person may present religious stances and inspiration, his religion takes a back seat to his politics, which is the exact reversal of the first.
  • The fifth totally rejects the political realm and places primacy on religion. The community centres round sequestering themselves from outside, and estrange themselves from the political happenings around them.

To me these become important because we are talking about. Man being community being, family being the smallest unit the hierarchy is built to the country. Family places a role in organized religion, and like I said, organized religion is about power hierarchy. We begin to talk about personal space, and way of living.  Issues of life style and values get threatened.

The great war of abrahamic nations continues in India, interestingly the game changer Christianity has remained in the shadow, it the Christianity that gave the modern Hindu his definite identity… not just a  person who is not a Muslim or not a Christian. It is the Christian education that told the modern Hindu about his oppression, in return the Hindu plays the game.

The divine right is still the essence except the from the kings the divinity has passed to the Ram Mandir, and Babri Masjid. Instead of Cain and Abel or  Isaac and Ishmael, we have Hindu and Muslim !!

So I guess what cannot be cured as to endured and resolved.

written for indispire 161 edition, prompt by Tomichan Matheikal who blogs at  https://matheikal.blogspot.in/

I swear Tomichan I have not used brains for really ages, I actually had to rescue it from coma… so do excuse me if my writing is out of the loop.

Cinders.

Burning of Holika… happened when Hiranyankashapu wanted to destroy his son Prahalada the old wives give it a simple good wins over evil hue. There are people who give it profound philosophical depth about burning the negatives within us, and going to the “morally superior” plane. To the sceptic in me it occurs, that okay we collect all the winter dry debris and burn it, garbage gone, dull and dried out… and welcome spring which is all about procreation and energy.

After recovering from 40% burns, through sheer willpower and grit, reference to three things I would like to burn seems like flagging a red cape before the bull. But maybe so, because the colour red exciting the bull is all bullshit..

Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, palak paneer in the pot nine days old… the young shop assistant looks at me aghast …I possibly could not confess that i left this cooker on a burning stove and went out to the market!!

Hey interesting isn’t it when stove burns it contains the fire; it uses fuel, gives out heat, that is another usage of the word burns. I definitely think twice something that consumes fuel and gives off heat… after all resources are not squandered. .

Burn is also combustion… like the engines of various vehicles, well would I want to do that I do not have the technical knowhow, and having dealt with my own personal spontaneous combustion I think I rather give it a skip,  think about this lingering bottled up anger… it never reveals the true colours of an individual then it slowly gets all mixed up, rotten, confused, and becomes, very volatile unstable and combustible then one small ignition and boom the explosion occurs totally foreign and different to the natural self… yes we definitely skip it.

When the stove burns it contains the fire, this helps to cook, to keep warm whatever, we are all born with the fire within us, do,  should we contain it like the stove or do we let it out free for all… containing it would mean experiencing discomfort like burning with jealousy, shame or whatever we choose to call the cinders, or we could burn with ambition, give it fuel, let the light and heat out and accelerate to action, so that the human doing will manifest as the powerful human being.

It’s okay  if the burn down as occurred like a burnt down houses, it’s not a burn sentence on an electric chair, one can rise from the ashes like the phoenix and fly to different vista’s at different altitudes.

The Kabala has a beautiful philosophy, which is each week comes with its own unique opportunities for transformation. When we do connect with the energy of the week then we transformed, we are empowered and the major shift occurs. Maybe the belief that transformation happens when we are ready for it has been burnt too deep into me, so I think this musing over three things which would burn… flags the connect. However the bottom line, things I would burn

  • The stove to cook the food that nourishes.
  • Incense that cleanses and takes the staleness away.
  • Body fat to make myself more aesthetic.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

 

Do Not Undo

What I didn’t do this week end,

“What have you done Cleopatra” is a refrain we use to practise emotions in our theatre rehearsals.

But here is the query…what didn’t you do…

Kids these days have not really faced this, moms squinting, raising an eyebrow, which a Natyashastra scholar would call,”Utkshipta” and the vision would penetrate right through the seven secret doors, the trolls, three headed dogs, flying keys, magical potions, or monstrous chessboards that Harry potter had to cross to reach the mirror that tells your inner most desire just turn impotent here. This look was perfected by mother, and teachers, and then question would be popped rather menacingly, “What did you do”

After such harrowing experience “what didn’t you do” should technically be a breeze, but buddy, now that I have began to pound the laptop, I realize, there is a catch, I am posed with choices,

  • The checklist—that is I am supposed to do these things but I have not done it,
  • I have done what I was supposed to do, and what are the hypothetical things I that could have done and I did not do.

If I go with the first then logical query would why you not did…Were you procrastinating…evading…escaping or just were you just not aware that were to do the task.

If I were to go with the second then the issue is are talking of knowing something that you can do, but did not do, it can be done in any case, or are we talking about things that we do not know that we can do… this whole question turns rather complex.

I now empathize with my patients, what should I say that sounds right, or what is that the doctor really wants to hear.

What I normally do when I am unclear is I check the dictionary… Merriam Webster is my favourite check out what exactly the word means, then I figure how it would pan out in my place. I did not it this weekend. I decided to check out the quotes many times I get clarity of vision there, the book on quotes some made it about right and wrong.

It was the round robin we play…”king of the palace lost his cap

Some say this and some say that I say it is Cleopatra.”

Cleopatra replies, “I sir,”

“Yes sir,’’

‘’No sir””

“Who then sir”

“I say it is Harry Potter” this game can go on… but it did not give me a solution. What next…? Let’s look at the opposite of doing, since if I did not do… then something had to be done…which was undone, and not doing something about my not doing anything…

Let’s not confuse issues, to learn and not do actually about not learning, and to know and not do, is about not knowing. Somewhere we mistake activity for achievement, so at the end of the end, I have concluded, I do not know what I have done, or what I have not done… what remains is I have not undone.

 

 

Life Sentenced

Describing my in 10 sentences….

Just a minute I need to contact my junior Jeevan Rego who was asked to write five sentences on his mother in the 2nd standard here is what he wrote with the numbers in place.

  • My mother is my mother her name is Amma.
  • My mother is also my brother Santosh’s mother.
  • My mother is very pretty and she has many sarees.
  • My mother is studying in fislogy (physiology for you and me) department.
  • Then my mother married my father.

This was shared by our teacher. As for my life, I have been writing… stories since the age of five,as most people could not comprehend my spelling I earned first academic gold star.. it was in story telling… what I did before that i am clueless but I like to pass it off as research. During my teenage years appropriately educated by the Marx and Groucho’s I went about life,rather purposefully looking for the leak in the gas pipe with a lighted candle.

My sainted aunt the ryder is story  in 10 sentences… do I pronounce a judgement on the criminal activities I have done like hanging a picture or killing time or massacring language…I think I will stick to the conclusions I have come to after deliberately not deliberating…  the story of my life in ten sentences as decreed

  1. I was born on the precise date I was to parents who loved me.
  2. I am not dead, so I can have my coffee in peace.
  3. Physiologically a little fatigued but fit and fine… no sentences of hypertension, or diabetes as yet.
  4. . well a little unstable fond of adventures sentenced to periodic evaluation by Sir Roderick Glossop.
  5. Pathology hidden sentenced to excavation.
  6. Socially contradictory has the potential to absolutely crazy if the right catalyst present but by and large tends to be a wet blanket…sentenced to a ten minutes happiness tracking therapy every day.
  7. Spiritually uplifted… with steady feni flow.
  8. Intellectually challenged by the constant company of Lord Emworth’s sister I have just enough intelligence to open mouth when I have to eat.
  9. Everything I like and is fun to do is immoral, illegal or just fattening.
  10. Once I thought I heard the call of love, fortunately for me, it was the wrong number.

PS    i am not always good and noble, but since I am the hero of this piece , I get to hide my off moments.

Now that the sentences have been delivered, after conclusions drawn… Merriam Webster has the third interpretation for the word sentence – which I think is obscenely tedious any way let me share it –as sentencea word , clause, or phrase or group of clauses or phrases forming a syntactic unit which expresses an assertataion, a question, a command, a wish, an exclamation, or the performance of an action, that in writing usually begins with a capital letter and includes with appropriate end punctuations and in speaking is distinguished by characteristic patters of stress, pitch and pauses.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

Holdin’Hans

Holding hands

#Holding hands, love, romance, sunset, and whatnot…. what does one write about it? Maybe I should write about love, how about, how a hand can silence thousands of voices and how someone’s smell can make you feel at home despite of being million miles home.

I wonder how many of have really held the hand someone we love… not in the passing like a loose link, but truly clasp, with pulses of the wrists beating together, fingers mapping the knuckles and nails like a cartographer learning a country by heart. The pressure, the warmth whispering a communication, and you responding to it.

Yet holding hands can come with so many  intonations, like the my mother holding my hand well she didn’t have time for it, maybe Bhagi holding my hand to precise my little finger as took my first step, the grip that said, “bade chalo” I am there if you stumble. When I held my daughters fingers as they took their first step, the immense pride I felt.

The first day at school, as my grandmother held my hands through the maze or what looked like an ocean of people at Padma Sheshadri the grip that said, this is the world at large and you can swim, that imbibed strength in me, as I held my daughters hands when they went school, i could feel the apprehension, the need for assurance that they will be safe, an instinct in me telling me bundle her up and take her home. I did exactly what my grandmother did, I knelt beside her, and told her, “baby, this is a wonderful place, where you will find children just like, you will have teachers who will tell you stories, and a playground where you can play, I am just outside the gate waiting for me when the long bell goes I shall take you home.

Or should I share those times, when my friend held my hand to restrain me from bashing someone who was bothering us, after all one cannot hold a gun when one is holding hands.

Maybe I should talk of holding hands, connecting to one another and this chain of humans holding each other’s hands creating a powerful community bonding.

Of course we don’t talk of the bully hands that hold you down, maybe violate, or suffocate another; we pretend they do not exist.

Coming back to holding hands, sometimes reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey, at other times it is allowing another to take yours.plinky helping hands

When I was in the hospital being treated for burns it was the terminal ward, it was evening and the Parish priest from our church  came for his evening courtesy call, he sat by,   made some small talk and enquired if they would  like him to say a prayer, they replied yes, he then invited them to join him, which they did hands clasped eyes closed and the priest rendered the prayer, this was so moving, in retrospect I wonder if this is the nearest we humans get to whatever God is, when we hold hands and listen.

 

 

 

Frae Whaur Ah See

Let’s take a reality check,

Well.. What is real something ?

I remember seeing this episode, on television, where the protagonist is an actress she tells her brother, it takes me 15hrs of work to 5lakhs and it takes you 15 minutes to blow it up.  We could talk about the make believe world of the actors, we could talk about ivory towers, well that is their reality.

This whole concept of real, unreal, illusion it is all so confusing,  is Harry Potter real? What would my parameter for real be? Is a Vblog real?  If real is something you can see and hear, well you can do that on when you view my Vblog, but it is only through internet, there is absence of touch. You can see me read me, comment on me, I connect with you on all these platforms, but I do not know where you are from, what your actual name is…. though I know all that about Harry Potter, his fears, dreams , strength and weakness, does that make him real and you an illusion?

The tenet of of reality goes, that it is intangible, or existential, or the experimental truth, but which one of them is my reality? Reality is not something that is a derivative nor is it dependent. It could be an illusion, yet it is quite persistent. Now does all that sound tangled and contradictory?

The duality of life, the sathya and mithya… hindu philosophies ponder quite bit on it, but somewhere along the way, Shankaracharya who said “Aham Brahmasmi” gave us “Bhaja Govindam” and Madhavacharya who gave us “Vayu Jeevothama, Hari Sarvothama ” gave us, ikya. Isn’t it strange, that the beliefs transform along the way.

Somewhere I realize that reality to great extent is our thinking,

Reality is about being real and nothing ever becomes real until is experienced, so does that make the past unreal? Well maybe but scars have a strange way of reminding us that our past is real.

Again if reality is the experiential world we live in it is framed on the beliefs that we harbour, and maybe each of us live in our own unique world, which kind of private and very different from that inhabited and experienced by others… if reality is differs from to person to person, then reality is no longer monolithic or in a single plane… maybe it is time to talk about plural realities… with plural realities should we consider some more real than the other? Maybe the bunch of similar realities then what happens to the world of a schizophrenic? For the schizophrenic it is real… we then are in a place where we can no longer say that we are in touch with reality and he is not. We probably are in a state where he lives his reality and cannot get us in touch with it, while we live our reality and we cannot get him to connect with it, so what are we talking about?

madhva acharya

Edition#153

Difference in communication… then probably that is the real problem. To me there is no reality except the contained within us, which could why so many people live such unreal lives, they take the images from outside them for reality, and do not allow the world within to assert itself.

Dream On Predictive,Vision,Escape

The 9th A classroom was the corner square of the first floor of the building, there was feeling of being grown up when we entered there, but  the tables and the chairs, brought us back.The minute the teacher opened her notes, and began dictating God knows what… my yes drifted, the lake of Manipal… this before it was made into a Touristy spot there was no housing society beyond, there was just open flat land beyond the church of Manipal which was like end of the world… few cows grazing…clouds like the one described by Kalidasa in Meghadoota…as elephants put their trunks down to the non-existent water from the drying Palla

“hey you sapna… stop dreaming…come back to class” How unfair, here I was writing the masterpiece that is destined to send Kalidasa to the land of the forgotten and my musing was disturbed. We were told not to dream…. how sad. Because dreaming was considered non-productive escapist quality. The system desperately wove us into  the George Carlin ideology

“Some people see things that are and ask, Why?
Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not?
Some people have to go to work and don’t have time for all that.”
― George Carlin

Then came the Amway into my life, suddenly I was told to dream, then dreams meant, a strongly desired goal or purpose and from human being who was slumbering in her own comfort zone, the human doing emerged, I had to do lists, achievable goals brownie points for achieving and band aid when I didn’t. Dream took a who new meaning. It meant vision.

At this point I am wondering about the word dream in itself we think dreams are not real, maybe because they aren’t made of matter, of particles… Dreams however are real, but they are made of view points… of images… of memories and puns and lost hopes.

As I set on this journey of transforming from human doing to human being, I realized, that sleep, is when the conscious mind rests and the subconscious continues to do its job. The images, the  messages we accumulate through the wakeful states, we let go into this vast undefined space that is our subconscious, during the first third the mind sorts all the information. During the middle third it becomes predictive… the mind assimilates and consolidates various beliefs, the mind also looks at probable outcomes of various behaviour pattern. The final third is probably the most entertaining the venting stage where I get to date PG Wodehouse, murder Premalatha teacher, and get crowned as the home coming queen. This is the imagery flushing that happens.

Of course as an hypnotherapist, I work a lot with the middle third of the dream, the symbolism the association. In my own dreams I have familiar landscapes, and events that kind of become comforting and reassuring, like a rocky terrain near the sea, I think it is Naples, and when I arrive there, the sense of peace and security is amazing, for at that moment I know that I am crossing over from life to death.

There have been times when I have woken up breaking sweat with unexplained rage, sometimes with sorrow   it is like the lingering of a spicy dish.Guess that is called a Nightmare..unfortunately one of those came true…I had the original Dracula as my examiner and I had to repeat the exam six months later.

Be it an escape, be it an vision, be it a predictive beacon, yes I am a dreamer, for a dreamer is one who  find her way by moonlight and my punishment is that I see the dawn before the rest of the world.

With Thanks to 2016

Dear Universe,

Looking Back on 2016 thank you for a wonderful year that I had.

This is one of the most disliked topics I have, it actually reminds of our clinical pathology posting, where we have to do stool examination. Essentially that is what the past is about, experienced digested, some assimilated and some thrown out. Part it we forcefully hold on to, through photographs and memorabilia.

The past could be beautiful or painful, but it is done finished and gone, it is like a ruin. I have been visiting lot of these ruins through in clinic, not mine but others. This time round I decided to let flow.

I loved travel, and 2016, was definitely an year of travel, Jamnagar, Hyderabad, Bangalore, Kolad, Kocchi, Delhi, Bombay  modes of travel differed too, road trips, bus travel, train travel flight travel. I discovered that the Delhi airport was the dirtiest, and the most lax when it came security. I discovered food on tracks which was great fun. People, culture food everything was great. I also learnt at the end of the day I needed by Mosaranna. (Curd rice)

Kolad and Karwar outdoors really brought home the fact that I was quite fond of outdoor physical activity needed to connect to that side of me.

By and large I do not look back, as I do not intend going that way. So 2016 I just decided to write a gratitude journal, instead of journaling and writing morning pages. With the morning pages I realized how much I was clinging to the past, with journaling and the gratitude journal brought a whole shift.

I really had a lot to thank for, wonderful daughters who actually my spirit guardians, the insights they give and the support they give me is amazing. A supermom, who backs me. Friends who stand by me unconditionally.

2016 also put  Jan Sky Mehak Sethi and Vandana Shah into space. Vandana particularly it was as if the universe told me, enough of this “abla naari syndrome” pick butt and move on. Conversation with Vandana was like; okay we all have similar narratives, it is mandatory to be us, the person who we were meant to be. I am reminded of Indu Sundaresan’s epithet of Jahanara… she did not rebel, or fight the system. She was a woman and she achieved all that she had despite the restriction of the zananna she just grew, beyond it, despite being rooted deeply within.

The final epiphany for 2016 was the demonetization. Not to be judgemental… somewhere we got so caught up with the problem we didn’t share solutions. Yes, it is a bad move, inconsiderate, deep down I do think it is a diversion tactic. But when we worked from the space of scarcity we landed with lack.

2016 has also been a great year of personalization, with my Friend Sadhana helping me with reinventing my wardrobe, to make me look and feel good, Zivame consultation of lifestyle, body structure and picking up clothing, or Tea-box  counselling me to the kind of tea that is customized for my taste. Finally having the courage to get my personalized domain. The biggest surprise was my daughter analyzing fragrances and helping me to choose the appropriate one.

At the end of the year, 2016 has been about adventures, and discoveries, be it the Free Money Day, the Rafting at Kolad, the event presentation at Kocchi(which was disastrous) experimenting with Bhuta kola for Hayavadhana  each has been great.

 

 ‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

 

 

 

 

Joy and Sorrow of Epiphany

“I just had to tell her that I loved her and she was important in my life that is it” everything falls into place.

It had begun with a BSc. In computer science, picking up a job, in a BPO Rajat had been one of those born leaders and the growth of rapid, the BPO community knew him as Gibby short for Gibraltar…

“Listen, Regalis? Couldn’t you find anything else? Not even the Lalit” Gibby had barked at his assistant who had set up the meeting.

“Sir, considering the customer’s logistics this seems to the only workable one.”

“okay”

Gibby sat drumming on the table waiting for the client, when a spritely young person walked up to him, “Mr. Gibraltar?”

“Yes” Gibby was rather curt, it always annoyed him people did not keep their appointment. Here was a woman at that, he was really annoyed.”Could you not buzz saying you were late, Madam you are disrespecting my time”

The Girl stared at him good and steady, she did not seemed perturbed, but with clear slow delivery she told him, ”Mr.Whoever, I am not your client thankfully, but I am here on the request of your client who has met with an accident at the turn of the road, and is being carted to the hospital. Good day”

Gibby felt a fool, and out manoeuvred by a chit of a girl.

Back in the office he could not get her off his mind. Diligent tracking to almost stalking he found out more about her and how and where he could contact her. The relationship grew and they were married.

“I am sorry Samhita, but I do ….”  Samhita realized somewhere along the way the conversations always seem to begin with I am sorry, and it was not a I apologize sorry it was I am delivering news that dis-empowers you, so I am more powerful.  Today was the last straw, “…if you do not understand that in my line of work, if I do not attend to the client then and there I lose out. After being married for 5yrs this is something you should understand.”

Samhita just took another look at the man she married, before she could respond he crumbled and gasped for breathe, the 108 rushed in and the Gibraltar was hit, with a wave of confusion, what Gibby had brushed aside as gas was a cardiac arrest.

Change of job and life style there was an uneasy truce between the two of them, ”I married Rajat, the day Gibby can let Rajat return the marriage will be on, until then we just cohabitate.”

That was the time Rajat met Sadhana, slim tall very articulate, there was an instant bond stuck between them,

“This something missing is getting on my nerves,”

“So, Rajat why don’t you address it”

“How”

“Shall I?”

“Hmm”

“How about this, we’ll take a trance session see if something pops up you never know.”

Okay… and they had a session, ”yes, Rajat where are you?”

In a green field,

What are you wearing? Just keep sharing things as they come,

Some kind of loin cloth and a blanket is wrapped round me,  I can see an woman sitting on a charpai, I have seen these only in Rajasthan, someone is approaching he is tall and he has strangled the woman.

What are you doing

I have run away the man scares me too.

Hmm anything else significant.

I’m scared it makes more sense to stay away from these people.

Can you go to the last day of that life?

I am seventy, and am in the open field, my chest hurt just like it did when i got the heart attack, the sun is right on my face,

What are your thoughts?

I am alone, unmarried who will do the funeral rites for me, but more important, I am feeling remorse, the dead woman was my aunt, i should have told my father what I saw at least she would have got justice.

Okay if there is any other life that is relevant it will come up, anything coming up?

Yes, I am thirty two and am in front of a temple with my parents and wife, we are all happy.

What are you wearing?

A silk dhoti, it is red everyone is in silk, we have come down in a Palki we seem fairly well to do family. We are the temple door we are here to for a pooja so that my wife and I will have a child.”

And

I have a chest pain, it is like the one I had few days back,

And

My soul is leaving the body,

Why was this life relevant? What was your learning?

This is the second time I am here yet have not learnt, that one has to speak, actually if I had told my wife that I love and I will protect her she would have conceived right now she has not because she does not feel secure enough to bring a baby to this world. I just had to say I love and care.

Can you ask your subconscious why is it showing you this life?

Because I am in the same situation now, I have to tell my wife that I love her and she is important in my life, I have to assure her that I am there for her I had let her down when she was my aunt, I let down when she was wife before, there is no point in just feeling, I have to express and share” as he vocalized this tears streamed down Rajat’s eyes.

Okay then are good, if you are we’ll count you out…

To Rajat there there was love and understanding with the knowledge, but there was also profound sorrow for what went unacknowledged. It was not the time for regrets it was time for amends and moving on.

 

 

 

 

;

 

 

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