Apana Talks

The Heart of Love

2013-02-14T20:53:00.000+05:30

From the Article " How to Cross the Heartbreak Bridge" on the Deccan Chronicle, Feb 14th 2013

“But I love him”, she said as tears trickled down. It took a lot of tapping at an acupressure point near her collar bone to subside the sobs. Often people visit me to speak about love or rather love lost. On this day as we celebrate love it also good to check our understanding of this often misunderstood, misquoted term.

Buddhist texts have a simplified way of understanding love. Love comprises of Metta or loving kindness or friendship, Karuna or compassion, Mudita or joy and the elusive hard to cultivate equanimity Upekka. Using this yardstick it is good to introspect once practical boundaries of self respect are in place.

Are you being a good friend? (Especially when your happiness and gains are at stake)
Does your heart quiver at your beloved suffering? (What if their suffering is owing to an overdose of you, trust me that happens!).
Does your soul feel joyful when your beloved is happy and is there peace in your mind, composure in your word and deed?

And then maybe a realization may occur that it is not love after all. It doesn’t matter if the answers skew you away from the realm of love. What is needed is the knowing that right now, in this moment this is the best you could have been. Healing and evolution begins with the acceptance of the current state of affairs. From here begins the journey to love more deeply and to heal past hurts.

Whether it’s a broken heart,a heart ache or maybe the need to explore higher dimensions of love; healing the heart may be the most meaningful journey you may embark on. Within traditional knowledge-base there are many paths that involve various senses and methods. In Indic philosophy the energy of love is known to reside in the heart center Anahata. Anatomically this is the cardiac plexus. Anahata responds well to postures that opens up the chest. Back bends with an emphasis on the upper body such as Camel pose (Ustrasan), Matsyasan (Fish) pose are ideal.

If you are a visual person you may wish to imagine brilliant emerald green color above the center of the chest and the light healing the heart. The seed mantra for the anahata is “YUM” chanting that mentally also help release blocks in the heart. If you are attracted to scents; rose essential oil is known to energize the heart. Affirmations on love, compassion, forgiveness aids the healing. The practices followed mindfully would ensure that you feel lighter, refreshed, at ease with our emotions and ready to discover and embrace deeper meanings of love.

Wishing you a Happy Valentines day, may there be none left to forgive, may there be many who draw from your loving compassion and joy ; may you lead a life of radiant composure.

Defy and Defend With Dignity

2012-12-31T10:10:00.000+05:30

Based on "Know your limitation, work on it", Deccan Chronicle, Kochi Sunday 30th December 2012

Rape is a global phenomena. It has been there in the past and sadly it will happen again. What we need to remember is that it could happen to any woman, girl, child or infant. What we need is to show no tolerance towards any act of disrespect in deed or ideology. The Delhi Gang Rape is a tipping point for many of us to get out there and make the change.

What is the change that we need?The physiology of rape is testosterone, the psychology of it is power and subjugation. Countries that have had some success in resolving controlling the issue or are women friendly follow a route of education, empowerment and strict enforcement of law. Interestingly countries that cover up women and keep them indoors are the unsafest places on earth for women.

Empowerment of youth is what I feel is needed in Kerala. I have seen smart and “trained to defend” young girls in Kerala go into an absolute state of shock the moment a man misbehaves. The other extreme is an emotionally charged response. Neither helps. Both fuel further such incidents.

What is needed is conscious and apt response to the situation. Foremost I suggest learn to run, to sprint. When in dire circumstances your legs will turn to jelly. Train them well. Energy needs to flow through them, do not let it stagnate owing to fear. Vinyasa style yoga helps achieve the stamina and control. As a woman I am soft and I accept I am not as strong as any man. Once you know your limitation, work on it, defy it and then you are ready to stand your ground.

Standing your ground is an attitude that you will not take criminal nonsense. It also means maturity to take complete responsibility of the consequences of your actions. Meditating on the qualities of a Goddess archetypes has helped many to gain this inner strength.

From that state of self respect, calmness and clarity you can proceed to scan your surroundings to create a weapon from what is available a rock, a pen, or a stick. If you like to be prepared think of investing in a pepper spray or have a tiny aerosol with strong red chilly powder-vinegar solution. Fourth is to use your weapon unflinchingly to have maximum impact. The efficacy of the weapon is purely in the hands of the user. However no woman likes to inflict pain. But to deal with men who are inhuman it is needed to move away from our inherent sweetness and find that resilience ~~to grab the offending crotch and pulp it~~.

I have great faith in the youth of my nation and state. I believe ten girls who can react calmly and effectively will make a difference in a city. I hope to train girls to develop this attitude of respect using yoga, meditation and simple martial arts techniques for free. However this approach is partial unless the boys are part of this change. What is needed alongside is to sensitize men that the “fairer weaker sex” is a human who deserves a life of smiles, love and light.

PS: .In the article that got published in the newspaper my line on grabbing the crotch and pulping it got edited out. Possibly that is whole point I am trying to make when it comes to defying, defending and doing so with dignity. There is no space for being politically correct and socially tactful – the operative word is “unflinchingly”. We need to be able unflinchingly visualise and execute what is needed effectively, efficiently in the calmest possible way. Crotch and eyeballs, I find are the easiest- to- access weakspots and the element of surprise acts as a good advantage.

Get Up and Walk! NOW

2012-06-26T20:54:00.001+05:30

If your life is dictated by a dream and it feels like you are miles away from it...you may need one of the below to keep you on your path.

And god forbid, if you dont have a dream then maybe one of the below may inspire you to have a dream

IF.... by rudyard kipling

thanking all those who contributed to this post... I will keep updating the videos.

When you been hit below the belt and you are struggling to get up...

Even if the odds are against you, you will find a way ....

dont ever ever let anyone tell you your dreams are not worth it

especially when the stakes are against you... winning is a habit

If you dont know what you stand for you will fall for anything

Will Smith AGAIN!

The Dragon

Service, simplicity ... on this tiny spec in the universe we cant do BIG things, just small things with BIG love

mmm the first name I had thought for this blog was square pegs and round holes :)

When you have faced your demons you can write magical tomes... darn many demons yet to be slayed. SOMEDAY

i think if chaplin was alive now, he may be speaking of brands and corporates "who tell you what to think, what to do, what to feel, ...u r not just consumers, u r men, you have love of humanity in your hearts ;) you have the power to create, to make this life beautiful "

what excuse can i give now?

And then again thanks to all those who remind me you are never, ever alone.... in the darkest of days we are here for you

Rantings at a 104

2012-04-18T18:53:00.000+05:30

Rantings at a 104

Fahrenheit or C? Maybe its Kelvin

Neural Entropy

Fill your address here

Where was home?

4 B Woodbury…why does that feel wrong

Ah got it 7 A …which floor again was it 2 or 3

I forgot my address

mmm you are really sick

I waltzed on my futon yesterday night

two dogs a helper kicked about as I tossed

Turned head to east…later south west

A foot north west

Many visitors through the night

None real all jeering

Oh my dogs, what if I don’t wake up

Am I asleep or awake

A flash of news reel

In a city where the dead and alive are rotting together

Kodokushi in Hong Kong

Can you call?

Not that they ever did, after

The misplaced love, the fuck was done

I dint cum, the call dint either

Calls did come

One talked me to sleep

Another a flight can catch

Should they even care I wondered

Not blood, not love just work

A colleagues carrot muffin later

Is my love wrong or my work good

Lovers dint work, work loved me back

Diagnosed with a fucked up urinary tract

Devil's Demented Demonic Daughter

2011-11-02T18:25:00.000+05:30

You should write about her.

NO WAY.

A few days later, she brought it up again.

I really think you should write her… this shit needs to be written, needs to be read…

NO … I cant do that. I only write happy stuff. Peace. OMMMMMM . Love.. light….So, give it a rest will you?

A few days later

GOD! Womannnn…you should. You really, really should write about her. Fuck! A lot of women out there will thank you for writing it.

This time she was more persistent.

My NO held less conviction that day.

You should write about her.

Seriously Nu, you should. Think about it. All of us, all women everywhere, know of someone just like her. Either its been our personal bad karma or because she happened to someone close to us.

That bitch struts into that part when Cinderella is dancing with her prince. She would sigh and then wave her wicked wand and then suddenly there is no shoe, no dress, no nothing. Wait… even worse, the prince now wants to murder Cinderella. Yep that’s the part the bitch plays into transforming your fairytale to a WTF after.

Come on Nu, you can’t deny what she did. You should speak out. I don’t know what your write and don't write in your blog, but this shit needs to be written.

She could see that she was convincing me to think about it, so she carried on. She was shivering with anger as she spoke.

She wrecked havoc and then strutted away complaining about you, while you ran around like a headless chicken trying to pick up pieces and fix things. And you know what Nu, she is universal. There is a version of her in Sweden, another one doing just the same in Yemen, heck my neighbor has a similar bitch in her life.

Well she did have a point. Many points. That woman did drive me insane. She reminds me of Kathy Bates from Misery.

Or at least that is the kind of loathing, dread and well misery she evoked in me. Of course Kathy Bates is far prettier than her.

As my face grew more taut, she said…It’s time . It really is time someone wrote about her. Promise me you will write about her. You deserve it, its time someone spoke out about that bitch. You are not doing this for yourself …you are doing this for all of us.

I thought about it as I got onto the ferry. It was true, the topic was universal. Across cultures, demographics, generations the types of her had made countless other women miserable. While some cried, others jumped of buildings… To date there is no law protecting women from these prana sucking devil.

demon...devil...demented...

And I recalled lines that described her essence perfectly

"...are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them... Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself...soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life."

—Remus Lupin to Harry Potter

Dementor , yes that is what she is! Or maybe she is the dementor's mother....

And so I started writing about her.

A sentence.

A paragraph.

A page…

Pages after pages filled with what she did, the lies she said, the viciousness,the way she played sweet and ruined your life. How she can drive you into cigarettes, booze, tranquilizers, suicide hotlines…

The pages turned into a couple of posts…

Soon I had written enough to make a blog about her. Here is the link to my new blog dedicated to her. She is the

Devils Demented Demonic Daughter

http://devilsdementeddemonicdaughter.blogspot.com/

Go on CLICK on the link above and let the world know about that bitch!

So much for peace , compassion, unity consciousness that my yoga practice has taught me. Today is fury unleashed, unedited . I have even posted a video and audio that I took of her!

on a train

2011-10-09T17:06:00.000+05:30

Sick sweet scent of fake perfumes
Talc and sweat, mingled breath
Bustle, noise and opinions voiced.
Incoherence and the occasional snacks
Chai Chai, Coffee, Samosa, Vada
Alighting departing faces and suitcases
Hawkers, beggars, haggle over coolie baada
Beyond the cattle grazing, crops ripening, unheard children waving
Far away clouds, thatched huts all chug chugging with the train

Unfilled, empty, untaken, a seat just got taken.
The foreground sprinted away to be the oblivion
An unknown face, unheard voice
Scooters, rickshaws, cattle at a level crossing

Hello… Books we read, songs we sang

Illusions of familiarity were none exists

Come hither lines revealingly concealed, exchanged
Fated getaway or was it just the Indian railways?

Deities of common trivia became alleged religion
What-really-matters alighted at the last station
And the less it mattered the less it matters
Strumming notes for the orgiastic dance
A roach unhurried through the floor
Behind a biriyani scented curtain a button came undone

Atop the hard upper berth, creation got played in mute
Omelet, Cutlet, Biscuit, Femina

TT, Bengali babble, bawling child, snoring uncle

Satiated and spent, two hearts thump thumping with the train

Spiraling languid aftermath, hushed psychedelic white lights

Take a bow, he says, the dance is done

Applause fades, descend from the limelight
Fervor and passion the intensity dampens
Whence it all sprang forth, never to be traced.
Naught sustains of the blaze brazen

And my runaway train tracking a way home

Breakfast madam? sir?

Thirty Rupees.

Bogie world, fleeting, departing, alighting

Billows and my deep sigh spewed out of the train
A knowing gnawing silence in the soul
The span to the station is all that holds
Then we drift like those never met
All that remains is the tracks

We are just strangers on the train
Hawkers, beggars, cops and beepers

Gawkers and refreshement stalls

A passing train hoot...
A track , A face, A restrained shudder
A biriani curtained berth,
All in memory’s labyrinth forever stashed
Now flood my senses
Uncalled a solitaire tear trickles to commemorate
Chai Chai, Coffee, Samosa, Vada

Boxers

2011-09-29T14:44:00.001+05:30

I met boxers after I turned 24.

Am not talking about the dog breed. Dog...Will do that later on.

I am not referring to men who earn for landing a punch. Boxers...Will do that later on.

I AM referring to that cozy pair of clothing that I am now addicted to.

It was a livid HOT summer’s day in Delhi and my goofy classmate Joobi invited me to join the guys at the pool. Water – refreshing. Swimming - I swim like a rock. Swimwear – ooops.

Joobi offered a pair of shorts.

Yes, a T and shorts are passable as swimwear in India. So are salwars and kurtas and dupattas and 5 meters long saree!

Joobi vouched to watch over me.

Yes, I try potentially dangerous things, thankfully am still alive

So there I was at the pool deck, wearing a T shirt and a pair of shorts. I stuck to the shallow end, joyfully splashing about. Joobi was given specific instructions that if I lose my footing , I would put up my hand, he will then need to drag me to the safety of the shallow end.

I can never stick to the plan. Less can Joobi.

Yippee cant touch one foot on the pool floor. Yippee cant touch both feet on the floor. YIP…. Oh O..gulp sputter ggurrglle splash

Soon I was gulping my share of chlorine and public pool piss. Frantically I put my hand up. Joobi…gulp JOOOBBI? Gullllppppp sputter splashhh NOW WHERE IS JOOBI? GULPPP Splassshhhh OMG!

Joobi had forgotten his Baywatch duty.

SP grew up on a diet of Baywatch. So when he saw a drowning, distressed damsel he came rushing in from the other end of the pool. What SP did not know was, what to do once you reach the drowning distressed damsel.

Lets call it a case of me being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong savior.

SP grabbed my hair, forced my head underwater and dragged on the pool floor. GULLLLLLLLLLLP GULLLLLPPPP GULLLLPPPP (Yeahh! more than my share of chlorine and public pool piss)

In my attempt to live, I kicked punched struggled to end SP’s lethal rescue efforts. I think I bit his hand, and thus got him to lose his grip over my head and I torpedoed myself to safety. I got off the pool, lay on the deck thanking I was alive. SP came over, all I could tell him was….NEXT TIME …Please DON’T…

He dint get it, so I sat up and repeated. PLEASE DO NOT RESCUE EVER AGAIN.

Not the thanks he was expecting. And if you think that was bad... wait till you hear what happened to SP a few weeks later.

Oh and Joobi…was still nowhere to be seen!

I headed home right away and slept off the shock. It was weeks before I met Joobi or SP. The borrowed pair of shorts continued to live a borrowed life with me.

Some days passed before I decided to wear those shorts. Boyyy they ARE SO DAMN comfy.

Why the hell cant they make women’s clothing to be this comfortable? A womans shorts is busy trying to exaggerate the curve of her butt, widen her hip, narrow her waist and oo hide her tummy.

A guys shorts is just being. Hugging where you like to be hugged, discreetly staying off areas where you are sensitive. Room to breathe. Second skin. A guy’’s shorts will never painfully rub your butt crack. A guys shorts will never leave angry red marks near the waist band. Anyways all this only means I wore those shorts over and over again.

Months passed…

"You wore them? You mean you still wear them????...whoa...dont you know those are boxers ", Joobi laughed incredulously.

"aaaa…. what is a boxer …" Yeah I met boxers rather late.

It was then, that Joobi informed me that I was wearing a man's used underwear. YEEESSSHHHH. JOOOBBBBIIIIII I screamed as he laughed.

But should say they are so damn comfy!

The story doesn't end there, apparently the pair of shorts, I mean underwear belonged to SP. Yep the same Baywatch dude. It was a gift by his girlfriend. Now it so happened that his girl asked him where his boxers were. It is uncanny how women know when something is missing. SP innocently told her that the boxers were with me.

Had it been a shirt, a tie or a pair of socks she would have been fine but somehow when it comes to your man’s underwear being with another woman, no amount of explaining would suffice. SP thus not only bid farewell to his underwear but also to his girlfriend.

Years have gone by and I somehow never felt like throwing away my first boxer shorts. Five days ago they were given to the last being who would use it.

Rossi Valentino had just been desexed and I needed to ensure that he would not lick his stitches. Instead of making him wear a ridiculous and uncomfortable Victorian Collar, I made him wear the boxers. Naturally he was very comfortable in it. Darn those boxers are so comfy. He did not lick his privates.

Now that his stitches have healed, my first ever boxers have to leave for good. Darn that boxer has had a colorful life. It has hugged a dick, a jane and ball-less dog!

Farewell my first boxer. You have served well.

….
PS: He asked me you covered dogs, men's underwear but what about the men who land a punch? I told him gift me a pair of boxers and I will tell you about that. I Cant write that in this blog – even my mom reads this. So if you want to know about the other boxers I left out, go on gift me a pair and I will tell you J

On Losing My Virginity and the Frustrating Dry Phase

2011-06-20T18:24:00.000+05:30

It was the most eagerly anticipated loss of virginity. Clichéd as it sounds …it was the backseat. The front seat came a month later. I am writing about it after all these years , because I have not been getting any... for a very long time. I absolutely believe that if I write about it, I will be getting some real action soon! It was good, it was perfect. I want more … a lot more.

FLASHBACK

That day everything was new. I was the new girl in a new city. Was with a new set of friends in a new book store in a new mall. A new friend offered to drop me home. Thank you.

I heard it before I saw it. And I knew I was about to lose my virginity.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP

The tingling started instantly. I could feel the blood rushing into my face. I could smell the leather, could see the glint of metal. No foreplay will be required.

I mounted the back seat… Royal Enfield Bullet Electra Black.I closed my eyes, felt the vibrations and smiled in rapture as the bike thundered. Riding- on- the Royal Enfiled – virginity… LOST.

And a month later I got to be the one riding the beast for the first time!

Not the story you had in mind? - SCREW YOU.

Of all the various virginities lost, this was worth the wait. Unlike many other first time experiences, this was better than what they say it is. HEADY potent stuff. Darnn it is so good that they may make it illegal!

It’s THE oldest Motorcycle in the world.

Its not a bike. It’s a beast, a baby, a bitch and your guardian angel all rolled into one.

If God rode a bike it would be a Royal Enfield. Don’t believe me? There is a shrine in Rajasthan where the idol is a Royal Enfield 350. I was hoping to pay homage earlier this year, hopefully the next year now.

Come to think of it, I actually follow my Code of the Bullet more religiously than the ten commandments. Don’t believe me? If I ever steal it will be a Bullet. If I ever covet someone else’s possession, which I do and it is a Bullet. (Shan if you are reading this you know that I have my eyes on your beast)

Come to think of it, I never really shared my Code of the Bullet with anyone. So here goes…this part deals with interpersonal interactions based on the presence or absence of a Bullet.

STRANGERS

You have a Bullet – I am your friend. I will seek you out, find you and befriend you. I did that just few months ago. I went to an Ashram to let go off my worldly thoughts and there SHE was - a BLACK THUNDERBIRD. I sought out the guy who owns it. We are bonded for life (as long as he has the bike)

FRIENDS

You buy a bike and its not a Bullet…. Remember there are boys and then there is the Bullet. I will have to inject you with growth hormones. I am proud to say I did turn few mamma’s boys into men. Thank You. Thank You.

You had a Bullet and then moved on to some chick shit… I will remove you from my facebook news feed. I am serious. I did that to a bimbo (who was once a man) who now sits on some yellow tweety. The yellow tweety happened after he got smashed in the crotch by a yellow submarine - condolences but WTF?

You are separated from your Bullet… I will pray for your soul. Sandy, Sivaji may you be reunited with your Bullet soon. I am holding a candle light vigil for you.

RATS

If rat buys a Bullet… he becomes a non plague causing rat. Last year I finally found it in my heart to start talking to a rat, because he redeemed himself by getting a Bullet.

Well I could go on and on… But the truth is I am not getting any :( Its been a long frustrating dry phase ever since I came to Hong Kong. I am in a city where there are no Bullets. (Sorry Islanders all I see here is Hello Kitty and Mickey Mouse!!) Since I couldn’t get lucky here I tried to get lucky when I went to India. There too multiple plans of Bullet trips were laid to waste. (SHAAAA I hate you!!!) It made me think a while about what is my future with the Bullet.

I meditated over it…

and finally it dawned

Be the Man! Get the Beast

So this year I hope to be able to get a license and get the beast to Hong Kong. I want to ride my Bullet for Christmas. Each time I write something I get it. So please read this..pass it on and year end I will be posting pics! Come on I am in the prime of my life and I am not getting any….

Hey Prasad, any chance you can give me that Bullet sitting idle at your place? Hong Kong and I can be the muse for your Art of Motorcylcing :)

Next stop - Hong Kong? :)

Is anyone from Royal Enfield reading this? Heyy think about it - since Bullet Baba passed away, you really dont have a Yogi riding one ... COME ON!!!

Photos: From the Royal Enfiled Website http://www.royalenfield.com/default.aspx

Which Nostril Are You?

2011-06-08T07:56:00.000+05:30

Gently press down on your left nostril and breathe from the right. Now, press down on your right nostril and breathe in and out of left. Do you feel the difference in the way air flows through each of the nostril? Which nostril feels more open? …

An hour and half later, check again.

85% of all people breath from one nostril at a given time. Some have the non-functioning nostril completely blocked. Most feel a slight congestion in one nostril. Some feel both nostrils are open, but one is more open than the other.

The interesting thing is, the predominant nostril is not constant. Every 60 or 100 minutes the predominant nostril alternates. If the left was dominant earlier, now the right will be dominant. Also you may observe that during the alternating phase, the breath flows through both nostrils.

The ancient Yogis’ were aware of this. They studied the effect of breath through each nostril. They found that the nostril you breathe from effects you physically, mentally and even spiritually. They realized that through the awareness of flow of breath it is possible to attain enlightenment. This knowledge and path, is called Swara Yoga.

The word Swara means "the sound of one's own breath" and yoga means "union". Swara yoga teaches how a state of union can be achieved by means dwelling upon and deciphering one's breath.

According to the Vedic System, energy flows through 3 main channels. The criss-crossing Ida, Pingala and the central channel Sushuhmna. Correspondingly there are three types of Swara – through the left nostril, through the right and through both the nostrils.

Ida is the cold lunar flow, the corresponding nostril is left. The left swara presides over mental actions. When the left nostril is active , mental activities such as thinking, planning, calculating, etc are at peak performance. Creativity, imagination, intuition, insight are associated with the left Swara. Medical research indicates that the breath through left nostril has an effect on the Parasympathetic Nervous System. The PNS is responsible for stimulation of “rest, relaxation” or cooling as suggested by Ida.

Pingala is the hot solar flow, the corresponding nostril is the right one. The right swara presides over physical actions. When the right nostril is active, we optimize on physical activities such as digestion, exercise, etc. The right Swara is related with the Sympathetic Nervous System – the fight fright flight part of the human body.

Sushumna is the central channel for the flow of vital energy. The flow through the Sushumna occurs only with purification of the mind and body. During the alternation of predominant nostril the breath flows through both left and right equally. This indicates that the Sushumna is active. When the Sushumna is active the body and mind are relaxed and functioning at optimal levels. Spiritual actions such as meditation require both nostrils to be active.

Now that you understand the bare basics of Swara Yoga, here are some tips to improve your day.

Activate your right nostril

Before your yoga class. This will decrease discomfort experienced while doing asana.
Before having food. Helps to digest food.

Activate your left nostril

Prior to important meetings. It would sharpen your acumen.
For deepening your meditation

Treating with Swara Yoga

When feverish, observe the nostril that is predominant. Lie down on the side of the active nostril, this would help to open the other nostril and thus balance the system.
Common cold is associated with an active left nostril, so work on activating your right nostril.
Chronic diseases such as Asthma effects the Swara. It has been observed that in such cases one nostril is active for a much longer duration the other, in such conditions balancing the Swara is known to bring about cure.

How to activate a nostril?

To activate a nostril – let’s say the right

a) close the left nostril gently using index finger and breath from right for 20 to 40 breaths

b) use a cotton ball to plug left nostril or left ear to open the right nostril

c) lie on your left side for 5 to 8 minutes to activate the right

d) apply pressure on your left armpit for few minutes to activate the right

The wisdom of the ancient sages and the marvel of the human body… Keep exploring

Seven Mats And

2011-05-22T18:14:00.000+05:30

TIME 3:15 pm

The first drop hit me as I crossed the Lyndhurst Terrace Street. I looked up, the sky was ready to burst. I love the rains, but today I would be more at ease if it did not rain.

I had organized my first Yoga group class in Hong Kong and YES I was hoping that people attend it.

I walked into Shakti Healing Circle on Wyndham Street. It does not matter what the world outside looks like, once you step into Shkati it is always bright, beautiful, peaceful and fragrant. I immediately felt better. I walked into my the yoga room, lit an incense stick and said my prayers. I then laid out 6 mats, the maximum the room could hold. I then looked at the adjacent room, opened it up and put one more mat there.

TIME 3:45 pm

I sat down on a mat and looked out of the large window. I saw umbrellas. I saw wipers swishing furiously on windshields. I saw people running for cover. I sat down preparing myself for the possibility that I may be my only student today. I looked at the seven empty mats.

A rain cloud appeared above my head. Dark and ominous. It hovered there and then ppooofff it disappeared with the thought “ I could do with an hour and half of practice!! J”.

TIME 4:30 pm

I lay down in corpse pose to begin my Sivananda Yoga session

TIME 4:32 pm

Sheeba is on her way and I imagined a bubbly couple coming in for the session.

That’s when Chunky landed up at the centre completely DRENCHED. I hugged her and said THANKS.

A few minutes later someone else landed up. I greeted her and invited her in. She told me that the rest were on their way. (WOWWW) “rest of them…who??” “I am Sheeba’s friend and they are all on their way.” That’s when someone else walked in. I checked with the three who were present to see if it is ok to start late as I was expecting few more.

4:55 Six mats was occupied. I was about to start when I heard that there is one more.

With that we began….cats and dogs fell from the sky outside…cat stretches and downward dogs inside.

Of all the sessions I have taught this was extra special. Everyone began with the absolute belief that they are not flexible and then all of them went on to do some amazing feats. The energy everyone brought into the group was incredible. As I wound down the session with Yoga Nidra, there was a slight smile on everyone’s face. They had floated off into the blue sky to greet the sun.

It felt that there were seven mats and seventy tons of Prana in the room! It was an honor to be a part of all that energy. Thanks to all who made this happen!

Yogic Glossary

Prana - Vital energy or life force.
Yoga Nidra - a practice to shift from waking to a state hovering between consciousness and deep sleep that is deeply relaxing and helps the body heal itself

Moving with the Mantra

2011-05-14T21:36:00.000+05:30

A mantra is a mystical energy encased in a sound structure. The purpose of Mantra is to protect the mind from wandering, lead it to the divine within.

Some mantras are inherited - they come to you from your family customs or religious traditions.

Some mantras are taught to you by a Guru and you make them a part of your life. You know what they mean, how to say it, what to do with it, what it does to you.

Some mantras ease into your life so subtly and silently. You hardly recall how or when they became a part of your day. They stick to you and they reveal their meaning slowly, gently... purifying you each step of the way.

It does not matter how the Mantra comes to you. I believe that the mantra chooses you and not the other way. The purpose of all Mantras is the same to purify, strengthen and guide. You begin to move with the Mantra, one step at a time.

Many (many) years ago, I was introduced to a Mantra. While I did not know what it meant, there was something about the way, the sounds of the Mantra called out to me. The Mantra unknowingly struck a chord deep within. I began to recite it, not knowing what it meant.

A few years passed this way and then someone told me, that it is the Mantra of compassion, the jewel in the lotus. Om Mani Padme Hum.

Om Mani Padme Hum

Few years passed and then someone taught me what it meant.

Om, composed of ‘A’, ‘U’ and ‘M’. Om signifies the body, mind and spirit. Om is the primordial sound that created the universe. Om the waking, the dream, the deep sleep. OM the enlightenment.

Mani means a jewel. A jewel is capable of removing poverty or deficiency. Likewise a mind that is like a jewel can remove deficiencies. Helps you find peace - when there is turbulence, compassion, when there is hatred.

Padme a lotus symbolizing the wisdom. Lotus blooms in the muck. It overcomes the slush, opens into the blue sky and looks at the sun.

Hum, the indivisibility of method and wisdom. Put simply the method you will choose will affect the wisdom you will gain. The wisdom you have, will lead you to the method you will choose.

Years went by. Each time I saw or felt some deficiency outside of me; or felt the muck around me I chanted the Mantra. The chanting soothed me down.

Eventually the mantra lead me to a space where it did not matter whether there was a deficiency or muck. I began to chant it more often. The chanting moved me into a state of better clarity.

One day, I was chanting the Mantra as I walked my dogs. It suddenly hit me, the deficiency is not outside, the muck is not outside. The deficiencies and the dirt I seek to change is within. WITHIN. The chanting moved me to look deeper within.

Om Mani Padme Hum

While it took many years of moving with the mantra, I feel the journey has just begun.

(Photo Credits : Christopher J. Fynn, Anand R P)

A Matter of Name

2011-05-10T20:34:00.000+05:30

No matter where you go some familiar faces follow you. This one followed me on the Telly with the Matter of Taste. Each time I see him on screen, I am reminded of another episode - a reality episode.

Lets talk about that…

SCENE 1 ACT 1

Hello

Hello, Could I speak to Vir?

Yes Speaking

Hi, I am calling from LBSIM. Is this a good time?

Yes it is

We are organizing a talk session by Deepak Nayar. It would be fantastic if you would list it in the day’s events for the 5^th of June

Sure, I can do that. Could you mail the details to bla@ht.com ?

Thanks Vir… hey can I count on you, to get this in the events ..? It ABSOLUTELY has to be there, my life hangs on it

Will take care of that…

Thanks Vir, you made my day. Will keep you posted. Have a good day

Good day to you too.

SCENE 1 ACT 2

Tanya

Yes Vir

Hey, call the City editor and tell him that a student of LBSIM will mail him. Put her event in the daily events section.

(confusion….) Yes Vir...

Tanya, did I get fired?

(more confusion…) NO VIR…what happened?

Well a girl just called me to put some college seminar on the daily events section.

WHAT?

. an hour later

Random conversation in the HT Washroom

Hey dude you should hear this… some chick from LBSIM called up GOD and asked him to put her insti seminar in the daily section

WHAT?

.soon

Random conversation at the TOI Washroom

Guess what happened at HT today… some LBSIM student called up Sanghvi regarding daily events

WHAT?

---------- and then

Not so random conversation at the Financial Times Washroom

Hey Sandeep, are you with LBSIM?

Yes

Well then some student called up Vir Sanghvi regarding daily events

WHAT???

-----

SCENE 2 ACT 1

Sandeep Srivastava walked in. He taught Corporate Finance. I suffer from financiophobia. I deal by hiding behind tall boys of the class, hoping that I go undetected in the class.

I got detected. Sandeep Srivastava started walking towards my direction.

(NOOOOOO, not this way! Go AWAY)

“Nuthan”

“Yes sir” (Oh SHIT !!! Please GODDD not a quiz)

“Did you call Hindustan Times”

(Sigh of relief) “Yes Sir, called HT yesterday” I beamed

Sandeep Srivastava headed the institute’s Media/ PR Cell. My under performance in the finance class was compensated with my over performance in the Media Cell.

“Who did you call”

“The City Editor”

“and you called VIR SANGHVI”?

“mmm Yes Sir” (warning bell)

“And WHY did you call him?”

(What do you mean WHY? You told me to DUHHHHH! )

“ To tell him about the seminar we are hosting this weekend, to get the event featured in the city events…”

Chukcle, snort, Muffled ha ha he he from the class.

(Why does my FOOT feel like it is in my MOUTH)

“Is everything OK, Sir?” (WARNING, red alert)

“Nuthan you called Vir Sanghvi …and you are asking me if everything is OK…” He spoke in his characteristic slow, measured, sarcastic tone. (Mayday Mayday…)

“I did exactly what you had asked of me, call the City Editor and so…”

“I told you to call the City Editor , not GOD”

The class burst out in peals of laughter. (Of course you think its funny. BUT WAIT) I dug into my backpack, took out the Media contact list. And viola

Profile	Name	Directline	Board Line
non-god City Editor, Delhi	Vir Sanghvi	***	&&&

I walked up to Sandeep Srivastava, pointed at the column.

It was Sandeep Srivastava’s turn to look perplexed. A second later he then pointed to the name right on top of the list

Profile	Name	Directline	Board Line
GOD Editor in Chief (I think that was his actual profile then)	Vir Sanghvi	***	&&&

That’s when we realized that we had two entries for Vir Sanghvi – both as a GOD and a non-god

I had spoken to the GOD, to get my teeny-weeny, itsy-witsy event in his paper. That’s like calling up Ambani/ Le Ka-Shing to check the price of vegetables at Reliance Fresh/ ParknShop.

-------

And thus LBSIM got a seminar published in the City News of HT for the very first time.

"CLAP CLAP…BRAVO!!!"

huh? no encore????

Whats Going On

2011-05-05T19:19:00.000+05:30

Apana Talks Under Construction & Maintenance Mode.

It would be another couple of weeks before I sort and then resort my days. For now my days are yoga, training, house hunting, vet, acupressure, kickboxing, meditating, praying... Miss you all and miss writing.

the not yet written posts include

devil's demented demonic daughter

bullet diaries

bumbu bali

tears of shiva

meanwhile go on njoy the all time fav ones

http://apanatalks.blogspot.com/2011/06/on-losing-my-virginity-and-frustrating.html

http://apanatalks.blogspot.com/2011/04/gods-own-lake-travelogue.html

http://apanatalks.blogspot.com/2011/04/pee-break.html

http://apanatalks.blogspot.com/2011/03/best-thing-to-happen-to-your-skin.html

and for my dear yogis

http://apanatalks.blogspot.com/2011/06/which-nostril-are-you.html

http://apanatalks.blogspot.com/2011/05/moving-with-mantra.html

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti heeee

This Gas is no Laughing Matter

2011-04-25T11:02:00.000+05:30

While most posts are tweaked versions of reality, this one is true. As true as true is. Really.

Once upon time in mallu land, Dr Mary Magdaline was less heavily pregnant than her heavily pregnant patients. She was in the theatre performing the third C Section for the day.

The thing about an overcrowded, under resourced developing country is that safety takes a back seat and casualty is the driver. The anesthetic gases developed a leak. Unaware, Dr Mary continued her day. She remembers feeling euphoric and giggly.

Eventually word did get around about the gas leak. It was time for the pregnant doctor to turn into an emergency patient. She took her stethoscope and listen to her own belly.

Nothing.

She waited a while and still nothing.

N o t h i n g.

She went home, lay on her bed with the stethoscope still dangling from her ears, a part perched on her belly.

N o t h i n g .

With nothing better to do, she went to sleep.

Next day morning she was woke up late. That’s when the baby kicked.

“It’s alive!”

Alive…but NORMAL??” was her next thought. Side effects of the anesthetic gases she inhaled ranged from Death to Down’s syndrome to well ... nothing.

A month and a half later I was born. Mom recollects counting my fingers and toes. Ten. Ten. (check)

She then groped to feel my head. My head was extra tiny. (uncheck) “Like that of a rat’s” she thought. She frowned, sighed swaddled her retard and slipped into sleep.

While the debate on my retardation rages, there is one unmistakable effect off the day of the anesthetic gas leak. I often feel euphoric and giggly.

The anesthetic used in those days is knockout mixture of nitrous oxide – laughing gas.

NOW: Dr. Mary with Baby

THEN: Dr. Mary with Baby

Really!!! This is true as true gets... Here is the scan report of mom's tummy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LraQy55Ps1k&feature=related

credits: THEN adapted from http://www.flickr.com/photos/raebrune/

The Awesome 3 Mango

2011-04-23T11:05:00.000+05:30

April is for mangoes and I can never have enough of them. The best mangoes are not the Davidar’s blue mangoes or the overhyped Alphonso. The best were the ones growing on a tree in Fort Cochin. Guarded by the Indian Navy.

The “last working day” of the month meant half day at my school. Central School privilege. The bell at 12:30 p.m. told all at school to go home. Two ten- year- old–tree-climbing -tom-boys did not go home.

Twenty minutes later.

Do you think everyone went?

Mmm

Climb? I asked

Yes

With that we climbed the third tree in a row of mango trees. While she and I climbs, allow me to describe the school (click it! its the up in the air view of the place!). The school is a part of the Southern Naval Command campus replete with guards, gunnery, missiles. Yes missiles. Just beyond my class room was the Arabian Sea and a beautiful, big stretch of beach. (No beach left now :( ...no school there either :(... rising sea levels!)

At some point of Portuguese India history, the place was a fort that guarded the harbor and port of Cochin. Parts of the ancieny gunnery and the fort still stand with an unfortunate stencil stating “for demolition”. Those structures made dare you climbs, eerie hideouts and weaved into our fantastic games. While other kids in other schools imagined castles and canons and sea monsters we actually had them. Right there in the school. Maybe not the sea monsters…

Back to the tree top conversation.

“That one looks ripe. Get that. Yes there.”

I stretched … I cant reach it.

“Aiyooo … stand up… grab that branch on top …yes … walk towards the mango.... Don’t look DOWN, idiot, look at the MANGO…”

Down was 25 feet below, mango was shaky creaky inches away. “Kittee (got it)”, I dropped them into a plastic bag that dangled from my left wrist. Under her expert guidance we had our pick of the best mangoes on the tree. She grew up to become a suicide squad instructor.

by http://centurymon.deviantart.com/

We climbed down to saner, safer branch and perched there with our mangoes.

The sign of a good mango is

1. Absence of conversation.

2. Gross pulp squishing, lip smacking, squelching sounds emitted as you try to tease out the last bit of oozing yellow heaven trapped between the skin and the seed.

2.5 Suspension of mental faculties.

3 The mark of a truly awesome mango is that under its influence you carry out bone breakably stupid feats.

1, 2, 2.5 that’s when we saw him. The cane-wielding-dreaded math’s teacher. 3

THUD. The mango made her jump. 12 feet right into the field of vision of the taken-by- surprise- terrorist teacher. He motioned her to come meet his cane.

CRACKKKKKKK …CRASHHHH….

My mango must have been awesomer than the one she had had. Not only did I jump, I jumped bad. My skirt got caught in the branch and I dangled very inelegantly from the tree… with a bag of mangoes dangling inelegantly from my hand. I frantically swam and kicked the air and that’s when the branch gave away. Cracckkkk…. Crashhhh. The branch, I and the mangoes fell from the sky in a messy heap.

“YOU,Come here”, he thundered. I ran stumbling towards him. She and I stood breathless, braced for the scolding and caning.

Give it to me, he said. I handed over the bag.

That was the first time and last time I saw him smile. “Go home”, he said. We ran.

I now order mangoes online and get them home delivered. They come with individual protective casing. Nothing compares to the mangoes in Fort Cochin, guarded by the Indian navy.

Wishing you a mangolicious summer ahead!

The Yoga of Sounds : Nada Yoga

2011-04-21T11:45:00.000+05:30

Yoga is any path that brings forth a union of body, mind and spirit. Many paths have been prescribed for achieving this state of unity. Some follow the path of prayerful devotion (Bhakti Yoga), others attain unity through selfless service (Karma Yoga), few pursue intellectual inquiry (Jnana Yoga), many work towards unity consciousness by controlling mind and body (ring a bell?). The paths are many and they all lead to the same goal. No path greater or lesser than the other. Success depends purely on the discipline of the aspirant.

Of the many paths there is a melodious lesser known path; namely the Nada Yoga, the yoga of sound.

Nada Yoga is form of Yoga that is based on the ability of sounds to purify, heal and help attain unity consciousness. The basic premise Nada Yoga works on, is that the entire cosmos (including human beings) is made up of vibrations. The texts go on to say that, the cosmos is built on vibrations and these vibrations in turn create matter. (Primeval discourse on quantum physics??? ) The Upanishads recognize this original vibration that lead to creation as the sound of OM. Many mystics and religious scriptures seem to imply the importance of Nada in their own terms.. “Search for the Sound in the body, and thou shalt be saved!” remarked Guru Nanak, founder of the Sikh religion. “The universe was manifested out of the Divine Sound; From It came into being the Light.", claims Shamas-i-Tabriz. Or the more popular “ In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Yes the word is a sound.

Sounds and music are the simplest forms of vibrations that we understand. We all are aware of the effect music on our moods. All most all of us have at some point felt exhilarated by listening to music. Some of us have even shed copious tears listening to soulful music. Music has the power to move our emotions. Nada Yoga utilizes the power of sounds and music to achieve unity consciousness. The roots of Nada Yoga can be traced back to the Vedas. In Nada Yoga , sounds become more than its sensory properties; it becomes the vehicle to take the aspirant to a deeper state of awareness. The music and sounds in Nada Yoga are considered to be divine vibrations revealed to yogis and mystics.

The traditional forms of Nada Yoga involves practices based on Mantra, Bhajan (simple hymns) and Kirtan (Vedic hymns). The aim of all three is to minimize the wanderings of the mind and eventually help to tune into the subtle vibrations within.

The Nada Yoga system classifies the music and sounds in two – external and internal. The external sounds and music is called Ahata. Ahata means “struck sounds”, suggesting that it takes two objects striking each other to create the sound. Clapping is two palms striking each other, singing is air hitting our vocal chords. Ahata is at the gross level, in the sense it is interpreted by the sensory organs. From this gross level it acts on the subtle level of consciousness. Mantra, Bhajans and Kirtan are Ahata.

The internal music or sounds within the aspirant is Anahata “the unstruck sounds”. They do not have a source of origin and are mystical in nature. These sounds are heard while in a meditative state. The “unstruck sounds” are said to be signs of purification of the astral body. It is said that these inner sounds are heard only when the aspirant has progressed along the spiritual pathway to the level of the Heart Chakra. This could be the reason why the heart chakra is called the Anahata. Nada Yoga mentions ten distinct Anahata sounds that are experienced. The sounds are ‘Chini’ (like the pronunciation of the word); ‘Chini-chini’; sound of a bell, a conch, lute, cymbals, flute, drum (bheri), double drum (mridangham) and the clap of a thunder. The Anahata sounds aid the mind to delve deeper and deeper till the veil of illusion is said to be removed.

While many books have been written detailing Nada yoga, the truth is that it is not an intellectual pursuit. Rather it is an experiential one. The only way to dive into this melodious yoga is by singling and listening – initially to the ahata and eventually the music will lead the aspirant to the Anahata. A simple exercise recommended by Swami Sivananda is to sit in your favorite asana in a quiet space. Observe the sounds around you. Eventually tune them out and try to listen the Anahata. Often these sounds are heard in the right ear. Bring your attention to these sounds. If the mind shifts focus, move from the subtle sounds to the gross, or the gross sounds to the subtle. The attempt is to stick to the sound in one ear. It is said that the mind would get captured by this, since it is enchanted by the sweet sounds of Anahata. Now go on sit in your lotus, or perch up in your crane, or upside down if you please and try it.

Wishing you a musical day ahead.

Nuthan Manohar

An ounce of practice is worth tons of theory. Swami Sivananda

Unsticking Stuck

2011-04-21T11:25:00.000+05:30

What does it take to write?

Nothing at all. It just happens. The lines just write themselves... Words drop down from the top of the screen, arrange themselves and viola one post ready to serve on the blog.

Here is reality captured on video.

Getting stuck is normal. Staying stuck is not an option.

Go on unstick yourself, am cheering for you.

Disaster Movie Night

2011-04-17T12:49:00.000+05:30

When all else fails I go for therapy. My idea of therapy is back to back pixar animation with intermittent doses of John Woo.

Shrek played shrink by day. By night, I wanted someone more potent. I rummaged through my stash of Jet Li-s, Tony Jaas, Lees, Chans, the Dammes and namma Kanths . Had been there done them all. Needed something NEW

There is an art and a science called briefing. A brief explains in simple and clear terms what you need done.

Consider a brief like …“Can you get me a movie? Action, inspiring, gripping kind of stuff. Adrenaline, the good guy wins story, weapons, fast. Even mindless dishum dishum will do. New one”

Got it?... I mean you reader…did you get the brief?

An hour later I got exactly what I had asked for.

Genre: Documentary style drama

Star Cast: Crave for the sinewy Jason Statham and you land with the scrawny Joseph Fiennes

Synopsis: About a man who sets out to swim 150 miles of the Hudson River. Fast paced considering he covered the miles in three weeks.

Spoiler Alert: WHY??? His last wish before he suicides.

Lets be fair, there was some action in the movie. The production house was called Ambush Entertainment

It’s true, men have no clue what women want. We are way too complicated and inarticulate…

I decided to drown myself in a strong stiff drink. Sip….sip…sip mmm it hit the spot just right.

So what if he couldn’t get the movie right, the hot chocolate he made was perfect ;)

Pee Break

2011-04-15T10:12:00.000+05:30

Do men ever learn to control urges that originate below their waist? I guess not ever, never.

For instance, the other day, my friend and I were sharing an auto. Suddenly he pounced on the auto driver with “arrey bahiya auto roko… stop the auto now” He then turned to me with a sheepish grin and said “bus ek minute... will be right back” and left in a hurry. In no time the auto walla and I left the auto, boarded our separate trains of thought. The autowalla on his local train and I boarded the express.

What makes it socially ok for a man to pee anywhere and everywhere in my democratic country? Not a single roadside wall stands un-graffiti-ed by a man!

Ever noted the peculiar things about public pee? To begin with public pee is viral. If you see one man pee-ing, soon there is another one joining in. They nod at each other as they spray together. They may even check cricket scores with each other, while they are at it. If a man has pee-ed on a wall once, he has to pee there the next time he passes by. A wall once pee-ed on will continue to attract pee-ers forever.

A sign that says it all "The One Who Pees Here is a M**er F**er"

Then there is the gender bias. If I have to go… I actually want to go now, but I have to wait. Wait till there is more than a wall. Four to be precise. A roof on top. You know the rest of the list including the handwash for afterwards.

Shit. It suddenly struck me, this guy is gonna be back from his pee break and NO HANDWASH. YEeeeeeeeeeSSHHH

I held the most articulated expression of disgust as my friend boarded the auto. He added to my nausea by he extended his hands out to me. I gasped in horror and receded into the auto.

There was confusion written on his face, he was expecting a smile not a contortion. And then it hit me.

He had stepped out to get me flowers.

Do women ever learn to stop jumping into conclusions? I guess not ever, never.

Photo credits : Debopriyo Bhattacherjee

PS: My friend insists - he doesnt pee in public. Of course he doesnt ;)

Yesterday and Today

2011-04-14T05:09:00.000+05:30

Yesterday I was breaking surf in a sea of noise.

Today I am a quiet bubble floating to infinity.

Yesterday I laughed, cried, screamed,

One with the mad mob.

Today I am companion of solitude romancing with silence.

Yesterday I had a cause to fight,

Any cause anyone’s cause.

Today I no longer resist ,

For the resisted restricts.

Yesterday I struggled against the flow;

Attempting an evasive destination.

Today I am the flow, the tide

Carrying me to myself.

Yesterday I existed to die

A thousand deaths.

Challenging the frightening;

Yet driven by fear to fear.

Running away from the haunting;

Till it hunt me down.

Building values founded

On farce and hypocrisy.

Today proof of life being

A search, a thirst for life itself.

Progressing on a path of progress,

Renewal to revive, to survive my yesterday.

Acquainting with the stranger in me,

Hidden by distorted layers of civility

Seeking the truth within;

The truth that would set me free.

Sorry I Don’t Dance… Not Sorry I Do

2011-04-11T18:31:00.000+05:30

Sorry I Don’t Dance

The colors, the costumes, drama, the crying, the singing , the dancing, the singing, the dancing, the singing, the dancing…

I cant recall a Bollywood movie minus the singing and dancing. We may not have a movie plot but we definitely have 14 songs and 8 dances. Like a true Indian, I can carry off the colors, the costumes and the drama. Bollywood dancing..lets face it, I dance like a man. Like a man, who can’t dance.

Few months ago, I met up with the hostess of the very popular show Dance India Dance. I met her during her one of her dance practice sessions. She invited me to join in.

“Sorry I don’t dance”.

“Everyone can dance”, she replied, “Come on, go for it girl”.

I obliged. Her very sought after dance teacher showed me couple of moves and told me DO.

And DO I did. Well I tried and…

no!NO.. NO!!!…. not like that… move gracefully… sway your hips, thrust …come on thrust, shake…lip synch to the song… feel… EMOTE… like a girl…like a girl…sway…grace…

3 minutes later, we all agreed that maybe I should stick to “Sorry I don’t dance”

Sorry I don’t dance. That is about to change.

Despite the multitude of swaying, wriggling, thrusting talent in my country, it took an Indonesian Cop to change my mind.

Norman Kamru was caught in the wrong job. He did an uncop thing. Watch him

The Ouch

He was to “face sanctions for unethical behavior”

The Wow

Someone set a facebook page to support the 26 year old. Last I checked the page has 206,972 Likes

He went on to perform for TV. I simply love his performance for his police team.

What struck me was not his talent, but his joy and confidence. When you have it, it really shows.

Not Sorry… I Do

A very talented dance teacher in Hong Kong, contacted me to help for a performance based on a Bollywood song. She must have thought “AHH Indian girl…she do bollywood dance”. She will soon find out the truth.

Anyways instead of the un-joyous, un-confident “Sorry I don’t dance”, I replied “ I haven’t done this before, but will do my best to make you proud”

The song she has chosen is the very swayey Kajarare.

Aishwarya Rai (the hot girl in the video) , shall try not to threaten you with my dancing skills.

Amitabh Bachchan (the old guy in the video), you better watch out – here I come ;)

chai toast

2011-04-10T17:00:00.000+05:30

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the one who'll decide where you'll go. Oh the places you'll go.” - Dr Seuss

Early spring early morning. It was perfect time for the brain and feet to take me places.

...To the Kitchen... For a cup of Masala Chai and Toast

I like my Masala Chai extra spicy, so tame the spices down to your preference

The Masala

A pod of green cardamom

An inch or two of ginger

4-8 black pepper corns

Small cinnamon stick

1-2 cloves

Dried lemon grass 2 stalks (Ok I am assuming you know that I mean the small stalks)
Coarsely crush/ grind the above

The Chai

Add the Masala to 2/3 cup of water

Bring to boil

When the water just about begins to bubble, add a generous tablespoon of tea leaf (Lipton Yellow Label should do)

When the water boils …turn it off. Let the tea brew a while in the heat.

While the tea was brewing, I toasted some whole wheat bread till it was nice and crispy.

The Cup and Saucer

After 3 minutes, strain and pour to a cup.

Add a dash of hot creamy milk. Add sugar.

The toast went on the saucer. A generous dribble of honey, a tiny dollop of cream, a sprinkle of cinnamon powder and few raisins.

The Sip. Hot n spicy

The Bite. Crispy n Sweet

Oh the places you will go...

Gimme a Break!

2011-04-09T16:53:00.000+05:30

My God is a dude named Joe.

When I was younger, he wore loose white robes and had a red shawl draped on his shoulder. He had long dark hair, a gaunt angular face. I met him in my late teens. He was love, he was light. He dished out the most soul fulfilling hugs. He felt I deserved everything I ever wanted. To him, I was special. He would go to the ends of the world for me.

Years went by. I gave up my pink frocks for jeans. He gave up his robes and shawl for linen trousers and fitted shirts. I grew my hair while he sported a pony tail and a trimmed beard.

I grew busy with life. I saw less and less of him. I saw more and more of computer monitors and code. Once in a rare while, I would shout out my Likes, update him of my Status or leave a Comment. If he was hosting an event, I would sign up as Maybe and not turn up. Each time I had a new wish, or was suffering from the consequences of an old wish fulfilled; I would promptly mail/ ping him. He would do the needful I ask, each time.. every time.

I designed WISH. He executed it. However when I ran the program, I saw bugs. So I went ahead and designed WISH version 1.0. I spotted bigger bugs. WISH version 2.0 got designed next. He patiently executed my version 2.0; version 3.0… His job was not to ask why or to make me see sense. He did not tell me, “girl your basic algorithm of WISH is crap”. He believed in freewill. He believed I had the right to create my bugs, my creepy crawly bugs galore. He believed my duty was to learn from them and eventually live life bug free.

The WISH project went on and on and on. The tiny bugs grew to become elephants.

One day I woke up and realized that my life was nothing like I wanted it to be. From pretty screen saver images, it was a series of fatal error messages. The software crashed, the hardware crashed. The warranty had run out. Most parts were obsolete. HOLY SHIT how did I land up here?

There was nothing, absolutely nothing flashing on my monitor. And who the hell unplugged the system? I was PISSED, upset, hurt, I had had enough. This was NOT what I wanted. That night I shouted at Joe, “ J O E !!!! Gimmmmeeee a break. Gimme a fucking break”.

And a break he gave me!

For the first time since the creation of the universe he raised his voice “YOU give… ME a break”

God wants me to give him a break. There must be some mistake.

Maybe not. He hurled at my perplexed face. “Woman, give me a frigging break! I have bent over backwards providing you with whatever you fancy. You play a while and then, OUCH THIS is not it…Gimme THAT. Now YOU want a break. WOW. Each time, I did something you asked of me, I really REALLY hoped that you would learn from your stupidity. That you will see. But NO, SORRY ,you do not want to learn. Learn is not in your agenda. What the fuck is you agenda anyways? Nu, do you have a clue? “. He looked tired.

He wants a fight? I give him one. “You are God, you figure out my agenda. Who said I should have an agenda? What happened to the you-have- a- plan- for- me? What happened to the you will guard- guide- me shit? Stop blaming me for being such a lousy God. Now that all is lost, you blame me for something you were supposed to do and dint” I then whined out my famous line. ”This is unfair”

He lost it. “Unfair??? Do you know what fair is? Fair is that I put up with your shit all this while. And why the fuck should I guard-guide-you? Are you telling me that you are incapable of doing that yourself? I have a plan for you and that is why I dumped you with that thing between your ears. The rule is simple “ask, and you receive.. “. Your job is to ask, my job is to give. That’s all. Simple. So do me a favor, stop whining unfair and THINK."

"What do you want from this life? Because NO ONE, absolutely no one, including me, can tell you what you want. Nu, so tell me, what is it that you want? You better REALLY want what you ask for, because I will really give it to you. And that is a promise”

I want… (silence)

Oops. I did not know. I was busy wallowing over all the past error messages, the crashed systems that I did not have the energy to think of what- do- I -really -want?

“I need to think”, I replied.

He let out a sigh and said, “ Thank GOD. Finally a sensible statement by Nu”. His tone softened and he added “take your time. I am around. When you are ready to create come back.”

“Joe don’t leave me, not now... am lost…” I broke down. He sat down beside me

“Sweetheart, I love you. I will NEVER EVER leave you... Now don’t cry… You know I can’t stand those tears.. Darn those tears.” , He dished out a soul fulfilling hug and held me there. He was love, he was light.

“I don’t do this often, but girl, you are so full of shit that I am going to try and fix things.”

My face lit up and I was about to design the latest WISH version.

He put a finger to my lips, hushed me into silence. “That is not what I meant. I am going to help you learn… from the basics.”

"Now lie back…stretch. That is better. Now inhale… deeply. Now exhale…. Feel the air as you breath. Inhale deeply… exhale. As you exhale let all the tensions release….” He spoke in his most soothing voice. His voice guided me to my breath, helping me relax. Soon the voice gave away to the sound of the crickets, wind rustling through the leaves, an occasional croak of a frog…

I slept very well that night.

My God is a dude named Joe. He feels I deserve everything I ask for. To him, I am special. He would go to the ends of the world for me.

Creating with Words

2011-04-07T11:07:00.000+05:30

I saw few posts on Facebook today. Each dealt with a different meaning and facet to the word, “word”

One said “this could change you…take a min.” He had posted a profound video on the power of words.

Another had experienced the meaning of the word bereavement.

Yet another felt “words …have to be kept”

Made me wonder what are the words that I use. What do those words mean. More importantly what are those words creating.

AAARGGGHHH I realized trending my vocabulary were different forms of “they they they they they…..” and not the best words along with it. Today I am taking the first step to changing one word at a time.

The battle cry for the day is CREATE ABUNDANCE

To begin with I let out a tiny squeak create abundance. The other words in my mind giggled and went on with their usual chatter."they they they...". OK I can do better.

Create Abundance. Something moved inside.

Ckkkrreeateee Abbbunnndancee I said. And I felt myself waking up.

I took a deep breath and let out

CREATE ABUNDANCE

Rossi my adorable, hyper Sheltie jumped up and barked. Kiddo my pretty, black mongrel wagged her fluffy tail. I looked at them and said

I CREATE ABUNDANCE

They jumped in with their wags, licks and barks. I let out a tirade...screaming and shouting all that I needed to create. A pent up dam burst somewhere. I started singing my dreams aloud. The dogs joined in with their baritone barks. I felt a happy exhaustion.

The week ahead will be a shower of abundance. What I need, what I want.

Note to self, thank all those who empowered me to receive that beautiful piece of paper I got later in the day. It was a very pretty cheque for services to be rendered.

To the man who posted about the power of words. It is a beautiful day, for a change I see it.

To the man who experienced bereavement, I am blessed to have you as my Superdad.

To the one who felt “words…must be kept”. Last time I thought the same, I was told “Your life was a promise I made…And with your breath all promises kept”. If philosophy is not applicable to your situation, try contracts :)

Black Cat, White Cat, Brown Dog

2011-04-05T22:03:00.000+05:30

Anyone who has attempted to meditate would agree how utterly difficult the practice is. The mind plays various games. The more we try to control it, the more ingenuous the games become. Let me know if you identify with the black cat, white cat and the brown dogs our mind conjures up.

I sit to meditate.

“Observe your breath, focus on the divine… achieve silence, silence of the mind...silence “so the teachers teach

I am determined that today will be the day when there will be silence.

Silence…silence…silence...silen

A black cat appears. MEOW. It walks towards me, tail held high twitching. It slinks into my yoga mat and

SCRATCH …” how could he say that to you?”

SCRATCH … “this is unfair.”

SCRATCH scratch…” who does she think she is? She shouldn’t have done that”

scratch scratch … loss, failure, anger, hatred, disgust

Some part of me tells me “…observe the black cat…”I look at the black cat and it vanishes. I come back to my silence

Silence…silence…sil

A white cat appears. PURRR. It gets onto the mat and then climbs into my lotus. It sits there purring. It notices that I haven’t budged. It sits on my lap patiently. After a while it brings up one paw to its face.

Lick… “the money can help start a school”

LICK…”the school will be for needy kids”

LICK LICK …”many kids will learn there, they will have a good future”

Lick LICK LICK LICK.. “I will teach them yoga and how to mediate”

LICK …

With a jolt I realize the presence of the white cat. The white cat vanishes

I sit to meditate once again

Silence…silence…s

A brown dog comes up to me. Sparkling eyes, wagging tail, pink tongue.

WAG… “Sivananda says an ounce of practice is worth tons of theory”

WaG wAg WAG… “I am doing `my practice. Soon I will feel the difference.

wag waG ... "I will glow. I will be filled with love. With Silence.”

WaG wAg wAg… “With peace…with joy… God bless everyone. Love and light to all”

The wagging continues.

I don’t even realize that for the last half hour the brown dog has stolen my silence.

Dark thoughts come scratching. Once this black cat has been banished, the white cat appears. The white cat is hard to shoo, it is a happy heady high. I still manage to shoo it away.

The toughest yet is the spiritual brown dog. Hours go by as the mind plays and replays religious texts, spiritual ideals, yoga practices.

Someday I will shoo the brown dog too. I wonder what awaits me then… A white elephant?