Flowers, Home, Saris and More

She definitely has a way with words.

Regular readers of Dagny know what an inspiring and inspired writer she is. But there is also another side to the nature of her inspiration which I have recently experienced. Her words have the ability to quieten me down, making me ready to discover that deep and calm place within. A place from where emerge some ideas, thoughts, words and sentences carrying that 'feel' of calmness and quiet depth.

To what extent any composition expresses a sense of quietness, that is for the readers to decide. But as a writer I know how I feel when I am inspired to write something at the request of this dearest friend. Zen-like, I think one may call it. Naah! Serene and yet fully present and absorbed in the experience of writing. Serenely Rapt, may be?

Dagny inspires me not only with the stories she tells, but more so with the way she makes these stories seem like our stories, mine and hers, and of everyone else who reads them. The grounded and earthy wisdom that is gently enfolded in her words, the quietness with which that ray of light shines upon the reader's being -- that is an experience felt by all who have visited her space, Serenely Rapt. 

You must have heard that highly creative people are creative in ways more than one. This is true of my friend Dagny too. While the pages of Serenely Rapt showcase her beautiful stories, anecdotes, reflections and ponderings on various shades and hues of life, she dazzles with another side of her creative self via Rugs of Life. If you haven't yet seen this space of hers, you don't know what you are missing!

When she suggested that I write a guest-post for her blog, I was naturally overjoyed. And also a bit unsure whether any writing of mine would stand up to the standard that Serenely Rapt is famous for. That's when the warmth of her love and friendship, and her calm confidence in me, my thought process, words and way of expression came to my rescue. And a post with the title, Musings on Home, Flowers and More took shape.

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MUSINGS ON HOME, FLOWERS AND MORE

I feel a sense of gratitude to those fourteen-plus years of my life when I was living between two cultural spaces. What we Indians call as non-resident-Indian (NRI) experience, gave me ample opportunities to reflect on the meaning of home, being at home and being in what many post-modernists call as a state of hybridity or in-between-ness.

I remember today an essay I wrote about thirteen years ago, in which I had pondered over the meaning of home. The essay, published on Sulekha, was based on an analysis of the voices of a few Indians living outside India with whom I had some interactions in an online discussion forum, combined with my own decade-long experience, at that time, of living, studying and working in the United States. In that piece I had come to a tentative conclusion that perhaps home means “a place where we can be really free, free at heart.”

End of this month will mark eight years of my return to India. No more of that NRI experience. However, at different points of time in these last eight years, this question of “what is home” has often surfaced in different ways – personally as well as socially. But it has also become obvious to me that the question has now taken on a more emotional and psychological shade than a mental or intellectual one, which was the case earlier. The experience of this question is also more inwardly grounded than something that is outward and identity-based. And this, I believe, is what makes me feel more ‘at home’ with the question itself. Let me explain.

About two years ago, I found myself going through an intense phase when this question – what is home – became a very real and living struggle for many months. In a way I was spending all those months ‘at home’ (my parental home, to be precise – the home where I grew up) but then it wasn’t really my home anymore. It didn’t feel like that.

The part that felt ‘like home’ was my parents. Especially, my very ill and fragile mother who was the reason why I was spending all those months there, away from my home and in my mother’s home. And yet the longing to go back to my home was very much there despite the mental awareness that I needed to be at my parents’ home. 

TO READ REST OF THE POST, CLICK HERE.

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A TALE OF TWO SAREES

Like I said, Dagny has a way with words. But then, she also a way with saris. Or for that matter, any old fabric which transforms into something entirely new and completely beautiful when it comes into her hands.

A few months ago, she gave new lives to two of my old saris. The sheer beauty of her work made me speechless when I held in my hands the new-born pieces she sent me. What had been once two old saris were now in front of me in totally new forms, speaking quietly of the remarkable gift and talent of the artist. The experience wouldn't have been complete if I didn't write a little story of that creative rebirth I witnessed. And yes that writing too came about in a moment of quiet and joyful spontaneity.

If you haven't read that little story of two saris and their rebirth, how about clicking it HERE and making that correction now.

And while you are at Rugs of Life, do spend some time browsing through the great collection of rugs Dagny weaves with love and care. A few minutes of going through the different narratives that accompany each of her creations will be sufficient to appreciate the genuine reverence she has for the divinity that hides in matter. That, in essence, is the real source of the beauty that spills out from all that she weaves.

The Voice that Quietens

A new post in the series - "All Music is Only the Sound of His Laughter"

Sometimes all you want to do is stay. Quietly.

Stay with the memories. Of that face, that smile, that voice, that presence. Because in that staying is where you find the presence alive and living.

Memories make you relive the moments, again and again. Reliving brings pain, the mind says. Yet, the heart wants what it wants.

Hush, you mind.

The heart doesn't want pain. The heart seeks healing. But it also wants to go back. Quietly. To that moment when the presence was there in physical form. In the form that you knew as yours.

You know that the form is transitory, it always was. The real thing within takes a new form when the old form is tired and weak and ready to leave.

But all that, the heart doesn't want to hear. Not in this moment when all it wants is for the voices to quieten. So it can hear. That one voice.

The heart wants only to hear that voice. Once again.

That voice with which you grew up, the voice that comforted you, the voice that corrected you, the voice that helped you see right and wrong, or right and right, the voice that helped you discover your own voice.

The heart wants that voice.

The mind says - you have that voice. With you. Saved. Listen.
The heart says - I know. I know that voice. Without listening. I hear it. It is.

The voice stays.

And so you stay. Quietly. With the voice. Because in the voice she lives.

In the voice is the healing. Quietly.

Lyricist: Gulzar, Composer: R.D.Burman, Singers: Lata Mangeshkar and Bhupinder

Photo credit: Suhas Mehra

Spiritual significance of the flower:Vital Protection

Surrender to the Divine is the best vital protection

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To see all the posts in the series - "All music is only....", click here.
To see the previous post in the series, click here.

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Linking this with ABC Wednesday, Q: Q is for Quiet

Hello, It's a Miracle!

"Hello Miracle, my old friend. So good to see you! Long time, where had you been hiding?"

"Hello there! I suppose I could say I was just hibernating, taking it easy, you know! How have you been? I see you look quite hale and hearty, nicely blossoming."

"Yes, it has been a good year so far. I have enjoyed the nice rains we got and also plenty of Sun helped me regain some of my vigour. But you have had a difficult time in the last couple of years, no? We missed you around here."

"It's nice to hear that you have been well. And I missed myself too, if I may say so! Yes, it has been a difficult time for me lately. But that's mostly because of that not-so-smart fellow who kept overfeeding me despite my ill-health, and didn't even bother to check what I actually needed. And those people who hired him, I mean the couple who own this property, sometimes I think they are also not very smart despite all their education and stuff. They got me to their home, parked me here in this corner and probably just forgot about me. What kind of people do that, hun? I wasn't getting proper attention, and as you know I am not really that demanding. I was barely managing to survive, but that was thanks to my inner strength and hardiness. I tell you, when times get tough, that's when you realize your own will to survive and keep going. I managed to do that, and look now, I am finally recovering after all this time and even beginning to blossom a little."

"That's great! I am very happy for you. And I am so proud of you. You know, I was missing your company. I used to look longingly toward your corner and really hoped that one day the 'Miracle' will happen! Isn't that a nice turn of the phrase, eh? And look now, it has. You have opened up and we all can enjoy this beautiful vision of the blue-purple blooms in our corner."

"Thank you so much, dear! It means a lot to hear this from my fellow beings, my neighbours and friends."

"And I must tell you this. It is not for no reason that you have been given this name 'Miracle'. Just by the way you have shared your experience right now, you have helped me learn an important lesson in life, and work further towards my Perfection: to rely on one's inner willpower, to be able to dig into that hidden reservoir of inner strength and pull oneself up and renew oneself. But tell me frankly, was it easy to do?"

"Oh no! It wasn't easy, but then what choice did I have? It would have been much easier to give up. But something in me resisted and wasn't ready to give up. And I thank all the gods for that! This part kept going somehow, kept the flame of life burning within, kept digging for greater strength, greater willpower and eventually created an opening of some sort which was enough to receive that Higher Light or Force or whatever one may call it. And voila! It worked. I could slowly heal my wounds, and eventually as you say, renew myself. I suppose it is a Miracle, in a way. Otherwise if it were up to these fellows, I would have probably been dead by now!"

"Now come on...they aren't all that bad. The rest of us have been doing okay, no? They do take care of us and also of things around here, for the most part. I agree, sometimes they get lazy or neglectful and things go a bit out of control or somewhat unruly, here and there. But they do come around and do what is necessary."

"You are right, they do. I was being a bit judgmental, I think. Maybe this new-found beauty of mine is going to my head! I must watch out for it. It is true that when I look around and see you all doing well and hale and hearty, I feel happy and content to be in your company. And I suppose I shouldn't hold on to these silly grudges, especially when I am standing near something that is so much more Psychologically Perfect than me. I salute you, my friend, for your aspiration for that inner perfection. Perhaps it was also because of this sense of wellness around me that made me survive all along and keep at it...there is much to be said about the environment in which one lives."

"You really have become very wise, maybe it is your experience that has made you so."

"Wise? Who, me? O no, I am just sharing what little I have learned  from my experience. My two cents' worth, as they say."

"Your two paisas' worth, my friend! Remember, these people now live in India, so let us get our currency right!"

"Right you are!"

(Laughter).

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The above conversation happened between two plants in a corner of my garden. The Ironwood (also known as Delek Air tree, Anjan; botanical name: Memecylon umbellatum) and Frangipani (also known as Plumeria, Temple tree, Champa) were chatting and enjoying each other's company one late afternoon when I happened to pass by. Hiding behind some over-grown bamboo trees I overheard this conversation and found it so enlightening. I hope my readers will also find it so.

Ironwood or Anjan is given the spiritual significance of Miracle by the Mother of Sri Aurobindo Ashram. 

Frangipani is given the spiritual significance of Psychological Perfection.

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

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Linking this post with Write Tribe, Wednesday Prompt: My two cents' worth

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Linking this post with ABC Wednesday H: H is for Hello, Healing 

Mantra of Protection

The other day when searching for something in Volume 5 of Collected Works of the Mother, the following words caught my attention:

There is the purely mechanical, material prayer, with words which have been learnt and are mechanically repeated. That does not signify anything much. And that has usually only one single result, that of quietening the person who prays, for if a prayer is repeated several times, the words end up making you calm. (p. 139)

Bougainvillea, orange

Spiritual significance: Protection of the Gods: Luminous and clear-visioned 

As I kept reflecting on these words about the value of “mechanical” repetitive prayer in calming one’s nerves, I was reminded of that particular 2.5-hour-long drive home from work one late December evening in 2005.

This was when I lived in Ohio. It was snowing very heavily, a blizzard was in full swing. The roads were extremely slippery and dangerous. It was dark, very dark for 6:30 pm, and the usual drive of 35-40 minutes took me more than 2.5 hours that evening. I was driving very slowly, very cautiously, I was actually quite afraid. At least 3-4 times the car skidded badly, it was becoming very difficult to control the car on such occasions, and a couple of times I was really close to hitting the metal guardrail.

I had never driven in such heavy snowstorm conditions before that evening. And all throughout the drive I was repeating – almost mechanically – the two lines I had heard from my parents and grandmother repeatedly while growing up. These lines were actually the mantra given to my grandmother by her guru. This guru of hers was a simple lady, a neighbour, a friend, who in the ascent of her consciousness had attained some of the highest spiritual realizations but in her outer life continued to live simply as an ordinary almost-illiterate housewife. She was known to her friends-neighbours-disciples, including my grandmother, simply as Sajjan Ji, the Good One.

While ordinarily, a mantra given by a guru as an initiation is not to be shared with or revealed to anyone, this was not a mantra in that sense. This was more of a Mantra of Protection, as I understand. My dadiji had passed on this mantra of protection to all her children and grandchildren. Though I don’t think all grandchildren in the family really caught on to this family tradition but some of us did.

I have, on many occasions, just out of habit, started repeating this mantra anytime I feel a certain fear grip over me, or anytime I feel a certain anxiety. These words just come naturally on my lips, or even if I don’t hear myself repeating them, they are being repeated silently within. These words give me strength, they calm me down. On that wintry evening of the severe snowstorm, I feel it was the force behind these words that kept me going slowly, cautiously and made me reach home safely. The calmness that the repetitive chanting of this mantra within brought upon my nerves was perhaps what gave me the courage to face those hazardous conditions.

My parents' complete faith in this mantra of protection perhaps is a key reason how I too started seeing it in that light. Even after my mother took formal “diksha” and “naam” (initiation) from another guru, this mantra is the one that would most naturally, almost mechanically, come to her lips anytime she felt any anxiety. It would make her calm and give her the strength to go on with whatever needed to be done.

And to this day, my father repeats this mantra every time he feels even a tiny bit of fear or anxiety gripping him. I have seen him silently chanting this mantra even before he puts the key in the ignition of his car. He surrenders his safety and that of others traveling with him to the power of this mantra, and the Divine invoked through its force and power.

Postscript:
I had written this post a few weeks ago, but was unsure as to how to 'close' this. That's why it remained unfinished. Till today.

Today I found myself reminding my father (and reminding him strongly like a tough daughter) of the force and power of this mantra, something he used to speak of when I was growing up. Today I was reminded that no matter how strong we feel our faith is, there are moments in life when we need to be reminded of strengthening it further. Today I found myself praying sincerely that the force of this mantra of protection be with my father. Today I discovered that there comes a time in life when a child really does become the father of man. Or mother.

~ Photo by Suhas Mehra

Do I Feel Rich Today?

Today on this World Environment Day, I certainly feel rich! 

I feel rich when I see the beauty and blessings of Mother Nature in my little garden. 

Today I remember the little sapling of Rangoon Creeper that we had planted in a little corner of the garden a couple of years ago. I also remember how just a few weeks later, it accidentally got pruned while digging out some of the intruding weeds that had shown up nearby. I remember how sad I felt when I noticed that only a little bit of the root and a couple of leaves of the sapling survived the 'accident'. 

I remember how we nursed it and took care of it for the first few days after it was replanted. I also remember that once the plant was firmly rooted, we basically left it alone to do its own thing. Just gave sufficient nutrition but not too much. Gave enough love, enough space, enough support for the vine to climb up, and then let it grow at its own pace, to blossom in its own time.

Today I feel rich when when I see how profusely it is blooming. Those bunches of mildly fragrant blossoms drooping over the garden wall, those little red-pink-reddish-pinkish blossoms which have been a special favourite since childhood. 

Today I feel rich when I remember how fun it was to make beautiful flower garlands with these blossoms sticking one tender-light-green stem of a blossom into another.  

Today, I feel rich when I see Pasiflora (Passion Flower) blossoming next to the Rangoon Creeper. I have written here and here about the work we have had to do to allow these two vines to find a comfortable harmony with each other. 

Today I feel rich when I realize that some of those "lessons" in harmony are bearing fruit. Or flowers, I should say. 

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Today I feel rich when I see the tender leaf-like pink blossoms of Mussaenda (Bangkok Rose) swaying gently on the shrub which had almost half-died under its own weight one evening which brought heavy rainstorm and furious winds, almost a year ago. 

I remember how we tied together some of the drooping limbs of the bush, giving it enough support with bamboo sticks till it was strong enough to stand on its own. I also remember how just a few months ago part of the bush was beginning to show serious insect-damage. I remember how sad I felt realizing that I had ignored the plant and not given its necessary fix of the neem-oil-water-mix spray to get rid of those pesky little insects. 

Today I feel rich when I see the bunches of these leaf-like flowers in soft pink shades, with little centers of deep yellow shining through them. 

Today I feel rich when I realize that a regimen of proper care and timely attention does bear its fruit. Or flowers, I should say. 

           

Today I feel rich seeing the bluish-purplish blossoms on the just-over-two-year-old bush of Ironwood/Delek Air tree/Anjan (Memecylon umbellatum). 

I remember the day we had planted just a tiny little sapling of this bush. I remember how I had even forgotten that we had planted this, until my husband showed me the spot where it was. I remember how happy I felt seeing that it was doing well, slowly growing and becoming stronger. 

I remember how relieved I was to know that perhaps the best way for this plant to grow was to be left alone without much interference from the human hands. I remember how many times I have had to remind the gardener, who is less of a gardener and more of a water-giver, to not water that corner where this woody shrub was beginning to take its hold and show some progress. 

Today I feel rich when I see the leathery green leaves and the mildly fragrant beautiful blue blossoms. 

Today I feel rich when I realize that sometimes all that is needed is to carefully drain out and remove the excess life-energy so that a harmonious blossoming can occur. 

Today I feel rich when I realize that a garden can be one of the best teachers one can have.

Today I feel rich when I realize that a little bit of effort in our own backyard can go a long way.

Do something for our Mother Earth today. Celebrate World Environment Day!

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Spiritual significance given to these flowers by the Mother:

1. Rangoon Creeper - Faithfulness: We can count on You; You never fail us when we need You.

2. Passion Flower - Silence: The ideal condition for progress.

3. Mussaenda - Mental Goodwill: Likes to show off a little, but is very useful.)

4. Iron-wood - Miracle (Air of Auroville): Marvellous, strange, unexpected

~ All photos from my garden, courtesy, Suhas Mehra

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Written in response to the Indiblogger InSpire prompt - Rich: Write a post on your interpretation of this word.

Was inspired to write this after a dear friend reminded this morning that today is World Environment Day. 

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That Fragrant Beauty

Smiling through the frame is an endearing and charming beauty, just like those fresh fragrant lilacs which always spread delight and joy.

Smiling through the frame are clear and twinkling eyes, just like those tiny semi-open blossoms that will soon open and reveal their full glory to the world.

Smiling through the frame is a loving and delicate face, just like that unadorned, freshly painted surface against which everything and anything looks more beautiful.

Smiling through the frame is an experienced and wise personality, just like the fragrance of the lilacs that fills up the whole space around it and yet remains invisible.

Smiling through the frame is she; gone today six months ago, but very much visible because her fragrance fills me up the mom-ent I think of her.

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Lilacs are given the spiritual significance "Distinction: Of a refined beauty, sufficient to itself." 

Image credits: 1, 2 (The Dark Hedges, Ireland). 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda, written for Mother's Day special prompt, a five-sentence piece with the word Mom in the text). 

So Far So Good....

A new post in the series - Reminders to self

Readers may recall an earlier post in which I had spoken of my ongoing effort to facilitate some kind of peaceful co-existence between two pushy creepers in my garden fighting over space. I figured it is now time to update on the “harmony” building exercise. As the post title says, so far so good. I have been able to keep check on the more aggressive Passion Flower vine by some regular snip-snip, and the somewhat shy Rangoon Creeper is now getting its chance to grow and blossom. It feels so good to go out in the garden in the morning and see the beautiful blossoms of Rangoon Creeper in their shades of pink gently swaying up on the garden wall. To hold gently a few of the slightly drooping bunches in my hand and take in their mild, sweet fragrance is a delight. I can actually see the blossoms from my chair on the dining table too while having my meals. Yes, the vine was strategically planted or my chair was carefully picked – either way, the view is quite nice!

And sometimes the harmony comes inside too, inside the home…like in the pictures below:

         

And hopefully this outer exercise will keep working its way inside…slowly and gradually….inside me, inside the real home within, and help quiet down the restlessness some more, help silence some of the noises inside, bless me with greater faithfulness toward a deeper aspiration, and grant me a greater inner harmony. (Silence is the spiritual significance for Pasiflora/Passion Flower, and Faithfulness for Rangoon Creeper. I also have another vine in my garden, almost ready to bloom, the flower of which has been given the significance, Harmony. I may write more about that when the blooms show up.)

For now, with a prayer in my heart, I share a piece of music that exemplifies how beautiful harmony is possible when the greats come together. There is a lesson in there somewhere about inner harmony too, about making each part within greatly refined and developed for a more beautiful harmony. This piece of music is from "Call of the Valley" which is perhaps the largest-selling album ever in the Indian classical music genre. The first of its kind and the best there is. Feel the harmony of santoor, bansuri and guitar, and enjoy in silence!

This is my 100th post. I thought for a few days about what I want to write for my 100th post, but nothing seemed more true and right than this theme of harmony.

I thank all my friends, readers and visitors who have kept me motivated and going with this blog. So far it has been a wonderful journey - outwardly as well as inwardly, and I hope the journey to the next 100th post will be even more gratifying.

My deepest gratitude and reverence for that inner guide, that inner seeker who is gently leading me on to this search for inner beauty, beauty that is everlasting and that expresses the eternal spirit of the thing. 

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Click here for all the posts in this series.

Click here for the previous post in this series.

Douce Mère

A special post for February 21, 2104

136th Birth Anniversary of the Mother

Aditi - The Mother. 

Aditi is the indivisible consciousness, force and Ananda of the Supreme; 

the Mother, its living dynamis, the supreme Love, Wisdom, Power. 

Sacred Lotus, spiritual significance: Aditi-The Divine Consciousness

~ photo by Suhas Mehra

THE MOTHER OF GOD

by Sri Aurobindo

A conscious and eternal Power is here
Behind unhappiness and mortal birth
And the error of Thought and blundering trudge of Time.
The Mother of God, his sister and his spouse,
Daughter of his wisdom, of his might1 the mate,
She has leapt from the Transcendent's secret breast
To build her rainbow worlds of mind and life.
Between the superconscient absolute Light
And the Inconscient's vast unthinking toil
In the rolling and routine of Matter's sleep
And the somnambulist motion of the stars
She forces on the cold unwilling Void
Her adventure of life, the passionate dreams of her lust.
Amid the work of darker Powers she is here
To heal the evils and mistakes of Space
And change the tragedy of the ignorant world
Into a Divine Comedy of joy
And the laughter and the rapture of God's bliss.
The Mother of God is master of our souls;
We are the partners of his birth in Time,
Inheritors we share his eternity.

A Fragrant Lesson in Patience

I admit it. Patience is not something that comes easily to me. No, I should be more honest. I am quite impatient. But I value very much the quality of patience and would like to become more patient. Ever since moving into this house two and a half years ago, I have found a very nice and delicate way to develop and practice this virtue of patience. It is a personal practice or lesson for me, delivered in the the way I like it - small, beautiful, and self-taught. And as an added bonus, it makes my fingertips smell so fragrant afterwards.

All I do is go out in my garden and gather the little and tender flowers that are showered upon the ground by the good and gracious Parijat/Harsingar/Night Jasmine tree. Every morning this few-years-old sacred tree (so thankful to the previous owners of the house who planted it), the Divine Tree which is also known as Tree of Sorrow or Wish-granting Tree*, offers to the Earth below its most precious gift in the form of beautiful and delicate flowers. And I, a child of this Mother Earth, wanting to grow in my aspiration to become more patient, gather some of these flowers and bring them in my home.

Now starts my little lesson in patience - to slowly arrange these tiny and fragrant flowers so that each flower stands white-creamy side up and on its tiny orange foot. Of course, the first impulse is to gather these flowers in my palm and just immerse myself for a few seconds in their divine fragrance. Having done that, the blossoms which are somewhat soiled by the wet earth need to be tenderly cleaned making sure that neither their small white-creamy petals nor their tiny orange centers are broken. As they are drying out for a bit, I decide upon the appropriate vase or container or bowl in which I want to do the arrangement.

Then starts the most favourite task of picking up and arranging these tiny flowers, one by one, white side up, orange side down. My most preferred way is to float these flowers in water. Sometimes for the sake of contrast, I might also alternate and put in a few blossoms upside down, but that is very rare. There is something so beautiful about the way the tiny orange center shines through the middle of the white-creamy petals.

The flowers stay nice for two to three days, and interestingly even as they begin to wither away they just take on a darker creamy shade and don't really look so bad. At least to my eyes they don't! And when you are ready to give the old flowers and the used water back to the Mother Earth (by way of either putting them in a compost bin or doing what I prefer, which includes simply sprinkling the flowers and the water under some plant or bush in the ground or in a pot), you come across this beautiful yellow-orangish coloured water which has taken in itself the vibrant, fiery colour from the flowers.

The orange or saffron center of this sacred flower represents the fire in the heart, the source of all our energy, the fire that purifies, the fire of aspiration, will, and perseverance. It is believed that the dye produced from the central part of Parijat flowers was used to colour the robes of monks and ascetics in olden times. And in our times too, we find that the Mother of Sri Aurobindo Ashram gave to this sacred Parijat flower a most appropriate spiritual significance - Aspiration (Innumerable, obstinate, repeating itself tirelessly).



At times when I don't have much patience and don't feel like doing my lessons either (though on these occasions I pretend to myself that I don't have much time, but really, it is the patience that I lack or the aspiration or will to practice my lesson in patience!) but I still feel like arranging these flowers, the result might look something like this. Or some variant of it.

Spread out in an old brass thali with only a few drops of water sprinkled over them, 
just enough to keep them fresh for a day

And when I have just a little patience or want my practice session to be really really small, I gather only a small bunch of flowers so that I can do only a small arrangement. Something like this.

I can't tell you how happy I was to find this tiny shallow vase at the Matri store on my last visit to the Delhi Branch of Sri Aurobindo Ashram. It is just perfect for small parijat arrangements to be offered to a small round Krishna in copper.

I am quite certain such a lesson may not work for most people, and I myself haven't really made a conscious effort to examine whether a constant practice of such lesson has helped me in any small measure or will help me if I continue with this over the next many years.

But what I do know, or rather what I do feel, is that the very act of gathering these tiny flowers one by one from the ground and spending the next half hour or so cleaning and arranging them makes me forget whatever pressing demands there may be on my time. And in those few minutes there is no hurry, no rush-rush to finish up the task at hand and move on to other things. There is simply a quiet joy of doing something delicately beautiful. Being with the sacred flowers. Being with the task. Just being.



* There are many legends and cultural significances associated with this special tree and these special flowers. For a quick read, see here.

Photo credits: 1 - Suhas Mehra, all others - Yours truly.

Eliminating or Harmonizing?

A new post in the series - Reminders to self

"Just take the whole thing out," my husband said.

"No!" I almost yelled.

"It will be easier that way, it is getting too messy."

"But I like it very much, I like the other one too."

We were talking about the two much-over-grown creepers which had climbed up on this one over-grown and crowded wall of our front garden, each trying to over-power the other, squeeze out the other, and climb up on each other. Result was that both were not able to yield much flowers because they were not getting enough nutrition. And it was beginning to look messy and chaotic.

Oh, I must introduce now the two pushovers being discussed here.

First up is Combretum indicum, commonly known as Rangoon Creeper or Madhumalti.

And the other one is Passiflora, commonly known as the passion flower. 

Now the flowers of both these vines are not only beautiful but also beautifully fragrant. So how could I sacrifice either one? But it was also true that something needed to be done in order to make sufficient room for each of them. My husband was in favour of eliminating Passiflora and his argument was that we already have another vine of Passiflora growing in the backyard. "But that is on the back wall of the garden, we should have this one in front too," was my argument. 

So I suggested harmonizing the two - cut back each of the vines enough to make room for both. Snip, snip here, snip, snip there. Pull out a few of the extra shoots from this one, remove some of the growth from that one. Surely as they begin to grow back, the two may still try get in each other's place, try to take over as much of the territory as they can, but eventually with some regular guidance, coaxing and cajoling (i.e. timely pruning and snipping and training) they will learn to co-exist and make room for each other, even if it means giving up a bit of their pride. They may not be always able to show off their heads full of heavy blossoms, but they will still flower and spread beauty and fragrance, provided they get what is most essential - good soil and good light. They will learn to live in harmony, a harmony that will need to be re-shaped, re-worked and re-newed every now and then, by the wise hands of the gardener(s). And most likely in due course of time, some elimination of unwanted weeds that would begin to sneak into the place allotted for the two desirable vines will also become very necessary, but that too will be done in order to achieve a new harmony. Harmony between Faithfulness (the spiritual significance of the Rangoon Creeper flower) and Silence (the spiritual significance of the Passiflora flower).

I love it when my garden teaches me such deep lessons about Life and Living. What do we need to live in harmony? Harmony with each other. Harmony with what surrounds us. Harmony within ourselves. Exactly what the two vines in my garden need - Good Earth (Well-developed Aadhar/Base - Body, Heart and Mind) and Good Light (Knowledge and Grace that descend from Higher Realms), and of course, the Wisdom of the Gardener Within (Buddhi, the Intelligent Will and faculty of Discernment) to guide and motivate. And yes, some discriminating elimination might be necessary too from time to time to weed out the undesirable pesky little things that crop up here and there. 

Can the two vines in my garden do it? Can I do it? I will have to regularly keep checking up on the vines....and certainly on myself too. 

After all, both the qualities of Faithfulness and Silence are essential for a more integral and harmonious inner growth.

(Photo credits - 1 - from here; 2 - from my garden)

Previous posts in this series:

The Color Purple     Which is Sweeter?    The Stuff of Our Lives     Light an Incense    God is At Home....

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Linking this post with The Writers' Post Blog Hop 2014 # 3

Journey toward Light

Source

Spiritual significance of the flower: Immortality 

Forms are in perpetual transformation; identify yourself with the Immortal Consciousness and you will become it.

Botanical name: Gomphrena globosa, Globe amaranth, Bachelor's button 

Thirteen days have passed since my last post on this blog.

A life-transforming experience has happened during this time.

One of the greatest, eternal truths of Life has revealed itself, in a very upclose and personal manner. A moment of acceptance, a moment of letting go, a moment of surrender, a moment of awakening - the moment gave so much as it took away so much. The moment of earthly goodbye became a moment of lifelong blessing. Witnessing the Journey toward Light continues to change so much...inwardly.

Death is not the opposite of Life. Death is the opposite of Birth. Life goes on. Only Form changes. The essence of the Departed One takes a Formless Form and continues to bless and love and be with the loved ones.

"The world we live in is not a meaningless accident that has unaccountably taken place in the void of Space; it is the scene of an evolution in which an eternal Truth has been embodied, hidden in a form of things, and is secretly in process of unfoldment through the ages. There is a meaning in our existence, a purpose in our birth and death and travail, a consummation of all our labour. All are parts of a single plan; nothing has been idly made in the universe; nothing is vain in our life."

Sri Aurobindo, Essays Divine and Human 

In her memory, because she loved it so....

May the peace continue to prevail in the midst of the pain, may the rememberance of the eternal truth continue to give strength.

Gratitude

Today this blog completes six months.

Today is the day to express Immense Gratitude:

To the Divine Mother whose Presence and Words are the inspiration for this blog.
To the Divine Master whose Guidance and Grace are the force behind this blog.
To all those regions from where the ideas and thoughts and feelings come.
To all those parts and planes of the being which facilitate reflection and integration.
To all those faculties within which help sieve, select, synthesize and express.
And,
To all those who click, read, motivate and encourage.

A BIG THANK YOU!

Ipomea Carnea, Pale pink Morning Glory

Spiritual Significance: Gratitude, It is you who open all the closed doors and allow the saving Grace to enter.

Source

Today is also the day to remind myself of why I do this blog: 

As as a humble offering to Her.
As a humble attempt to contemplate upon, live out, and express the following words:

"Let beauty be your constant ideal.

The beauty of the soul

The beauty of sentiments

The beauty of thoughts

The beauty of the action

The beauty in the work

so that nothing comes out of your hands which is not an expression of pure and harmonious beauty.

And the Divine Help shall always be with you." 

(The Mother)

Today is also the day to express a prayer:

May I always remember to 'Remember and Offer'. 

May I always remember to reflect deeply on all that appears on this blog.

May I always remember to assess deeply before anything gets expressed on this blog.

May I always remember to see all this as:

a means to progress, 

a means to become more open and receptive to Her Force.

a means to grow in gratitude and humility.

a means to seek and express deeper delight in all life and work.

Remembering The Mother

Celebrating Navratri....

A special post in the series: A Poem and A Song - V

Aditi - The Mother. 

Aditi is the indivisible consciousness, force and Ananda of the Supreme; 

the Mother, its living dynamis, the supreme Love, Wisdom, Power. 

~ Sri Aurobindo

White Lotus, Nelumbo nucifera 'Alba'

Spiritual Significance: Aditi-the Divine Consciousness

Pure, immaculate, gloriously powerful.

~ Photo by Suhas Mehra

What better way to start this special time of the year, this season of remembrance and of invoking the Divine Mother, than to meditate on these divine lines of Sri Aurobindo from his epic poem, Savitri....

At the head she stands of birth and toil and fate,

In their slow round the cycles turn to her call;

Alone her hands can change Time’s dragon base.

Hers is the mystery the Night conceals;

The spirit’s alchemist energy is hers;

She is the golden bridge, the wonderful fire.

The luminous heart of the Unknown is she,

A power of silence in the depths of God;

She is the Force, the inevitable Word,

The magnet of our difficult ascent,

The Sun from which we kindle all our suns,

The Light that leans from the unrealised Vasts,

The joy that beckons from the impossible,

The Might of all that never yet came down.

All Nature dumbly calls to her alone

To heal with her feet the aching throb of life

And break the seals on the dim soul of man

And kindle her fire in the closed heart of things.

All here shall be one day her sweetness’ home,

All contraries prepare her harmony;

Towards her our knowledge climbs, our passion gropes;

In her miraculous rapture we shall dwell,

Her clasp shall turn to ecstasy our pain.

Our self shall be one self with all through her.

In her confirmed because transformed in her,

Our life shall find in its fulfilled response

Above, the boundless hushed beatitudes,

Below, the wonder of the embrace divine.

~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, Book III, Canto II, pp. 314-315

And to continue the meditative mood with this divine music.... 

Singer: Pandit Jasraj

For previous posts in this series, click here, here, here, and here.

Of Home and Blooms

About eleven years ago when I was in the thick of my non-resident-Indian experience I had written something about what home means when one is living between two cultural spaces. The essay was based on an analysis of voices of a few Indians living outside India with whom I had some interactions in an online discussion forum, combined with my own experience of about 10 years at that time of living in the United States. And in that essay I had come to a tentative conclusion that perhaps home means "a place where we can be really free, free at heart."

It has been about six years now since I moved back to India. No more of that NRI experience. However, at different points of time in these last six years, this question of what is home has often surfaced in different ways - personally as well as socially, but with a big difference that now the question takes on a more emotional and psychological shade than a mental or intellectual one. The experience of this question is also more inwardly grounded than something that is outer and identity-based.

This has been one of those times again - especially the last several months. In my egoistic moments I like to believe that I have matured and grown wise enough to know that in the truest sense home is something we carry within, or that home is where we are present - I mean present fully, in the moment, or that home is not an abstract idea but a real, psycho-spiritual state of being truly oneself and at peace with all that one is in parts. But despite this belief of mine, I know for sure that I struggle with living all these truths and oscillate between inner and outer meanings of home. At the same time I think that it is important to be aware of this struggle - what type of circumstances trigger it, how I deal with it, what I experience on different levels and in different parts within -  because perhaps through this struggle I may be blessed with an opportunity to experience more concretely the deeper and inner meaning of home.

But then I think this is how the Great Universe works! In the middle of a struggle, sometimes clarity comes. And that's what happened to me a couple of days ago. And the realization was simply this - Sometimes Home is Simply where the Flowers are! 

Presented below are some pictures of flowers from my garden, along with the spiritual significance of these flowers given by The Mother.

No more words necessary, let the pictures say the rest....

BLOOMING GRACE

Rose - Psychic Love

Jasmine - Purity

Paradise Flower - Fire

Crape Myrtle - Intimacy with the Divine

Coconuts - Multitude

Parijat - Aspiration

Bougainvillea - Protection

Frangipani - Psychological Perfection

Passion flower - Silence

All photos courtesy of Suhas Mehra