DECEMBER DIARY PAGE 1 – The Haemin Sunim Impact

“I wish I'd had the courage 
to live a life true to myself, 
not the life others expected of me.”

Haemin Sunim. This name has been ringing a bell. One of my dearest friend has got me introduced to this man of great honor. I haven’t read his book – THE THINGS YOU CAN SEE ONLY WHEN YOU SLOW DOWN: HOW TO BE CALM IN A BUSY WORLD. But luckily, some excerpts of this wonderful book have come my way; one again with timely help offered from my dearest friend. 

Picture Courtesy: Google

I therefore wish to dedicate this blog to the various things, I learnt from the excerpts; now available with me. 

Excerpt #1

When someone tells you, “No,”
don’t react emotionally and lose control. 
“No” may open up a surprising new world to you.
“No” may unexpectedly lead you to good people. 
If you begin to push against the unchangeable “No,”
you will suffer in the process and miss other opportunities. 

The above paragraph made me look back at 2019 and the many years prior to that. I was reminded of all the testing times, when a ‘No’ or a series of multiple ‘Nos’ came my way. I did exactly the opposite of what Haemin Sunim has gently advised us not to practice. 
Am I feeling terrible about it? Initially I did. But, I read the lines, a few more times. The core of the message, Haemin wants to put across kept getting clearer. His DON’T is not conveying a negative message. His Don’t is drenched in positive vibes and somewhere he is trying to tell us, “let that NO come our way.” Only reminding me of another lovely suggestion made by another good friend of mine, who had one said, “Be in acceptance. Question everything. Expect nothing.”

Excerpt #2

The world will keep turning even without you.
Let go of the idea that your way is the only way,
that you are the only one who can make it happen.

In simple words, Haemin has said something, which has time and again been the reason of all the stubbornness within me. The world is going to go with the flow. Even if I were to stand like a wall, there are forces which will make a breakthrough. I took some time to accept, I am a human being; I am a small particle of this universe. I am element, which is filled with energy. And I am not the only one to make a million things happen. My way exactly might not be the only way. The heart did break at reading this. But I recovered faster because of the reality these three lines reflect of.

Excerpt #3

Do not lament that the world has changed.
Do not resent that people have changed.
Evaluating the present through the memories of the 
past can cause sadness. 
Whether you like it or not, change is inevitable.
Embrace and welcome it.

So far, I kept sharing the same quote – CHANGE IS THE ONLY CONSTANT. But these lines have put that very CHANGE on a very different pedestal. It is a bitter reminder of the many times, I have settled down for breakfast on the dining table. My mom has sat across me and I have definitely evaluated the present through the memories of the past, which has caused sadness, anger, frustration, bitterness and negativity. I know, I can’t like everything. But that everything is also that something, which needs to be embraced. But the medium, I guess might be different or the strategy to embrace might need a re-look.

Excerpt #4

The person leading you toward spiritual awakening
is not the one who praises you or is nice to you.
Your spirituality deepens because of those
who insult you and give you a hard time.
They are your spiritual teachers in disguise.

For the last twenty years, I have met innumerable spiritual teachers in disguise. I may hate to call them teachers. But from them, I feel I have learnt to take the path to make new forays into unexplored zones. I got bruised. I bled. Somehow, I learnt to survive and continue with what I am today or where I wish to be tomorrow. 

Excerpt #5

Life is like a theater. You are assigned a role.
If you don’t like the role,
keep in mind that you have the power to re-create the
role you want.

This path is not a smooth one. There is gunpowder in the air. From a distance, I can smell something insanely bitter. Yet, I won’t step back. I’ve made that move; to re-create the role, I want.

On November 23rd, Haemin Sunim tweeted: 

A part of you that is imperfect or broken can motivate you to work hard to overcome it and can ultimately bring you success in life. Do not despair over what is imperfect in yourself. Instead, look at your flaws with love. #LoveforImperfectThings

If I sit down to count my series of flaws, I may end up tagging them ‘infinite’. But I haven’t look at my own flaws with love. Most of the times, they have been brought to my notice by others. I have started noticing them very recently. Since love wasn’t the way in which I tried looking at them, I always felt, there might be something, which is missing in here.

On October 11th, Haemin Sunim wrote something absolutely phenomenal:

Do not beg for people’s attention. As you discover and develop your unique strengths, they will pay attention to you automatically. #LoveforImperfectThings

Of late, I have seen people try many tricks to seek attention of others. These tricks left me broken emotionally and hampered my emotional intelligence. So, I developed my own unique strengths. The desired attention did come my way. But, there was no dearth of jealousy and unkind temperament around these strengths. I chose to read what Haemin Sunim wrote. I read it again and again. Perhaps this habit of repetitive reading somewhere ended up answering one of the most important questions of my life.

As I conclude, I wish to thank my friend Sia for making me aware of Haemin Sunim; his book and of course the many ways in which, he inspires, motivates and stimulates our minds. 

Picture Courtesy: buddhistdoor.net

It’s high time, life takes a front seat and all other nonsensical stuff take a backseat. 

So, until I write/ blog/ publish/ share something new in the coming days, I wish to quote Haemin Sunim again - Do you know the biggest regret of the dying? “I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.” Are you walking on the path true to yourself?

I guess, that question, which he asked should answer everything that we could be struggling with. 

- Virtuous Vociferous | December 08 | December Blog-1 | Never Settle | 2019

DURGA PUJA (PUJO) IS ALMOST KNOCKING ON THE DOORS

Durga Puja is oxygen,

survival, a moment of awakening

for the red blooded Bengalis.

Devlina Ganguly happily wrote on September 30; just two days after Mahalaya - Calcutta during #DurgaPuja is a fairytale land. No matter the workload, the traffic or any other shit, the Pujo (Puja) feel is so contagious that the smile keeps coming back on your face. The heart brims over with happiness.

Durga Puja, Picture Courtesy: Lonely Planet, India

For a moment, the heart jumped with joy.

The heartbeats tried to synchronize with the rhythm of Dhak playing on Gaana.Com.

Unexpectedly, the mind gently slipped into the dark comfort of a cute little boat, which set sail from the Princep Ghat; now moving slowly towards the middle of the sacred river.

I know, all of it is just an imagination.

But, before that, it was my friend Satabdi Sarkar, who sent an urgent message on WhatsApp; the message carried the title of this blog post in bold – PUJO (PUJA) IS ALMOST KNOCKING ON THE DOORS. I just added Durga in the beginning to make it more obvious, clearer.

The door/ doors, mentioned by Satabdi Sarkar, is the heart of a Bengali or the hearts of innumerable Bengalis (including me, my immediate neighbor, my others); be it the Resident or the Probashi. Durga Puja is oxygen; Durga Puja is survival; Durga Puja in every sense is a moment of awakening for the red blooded Bengalis.

I must tell you, opinions stand divided too about the happy population of Bengalis.

Some onlookers, followers, critics, reviewers, fans of Bengali culture wish to know:

• What does Pujo do to Bengalis?
• Are Bengalis busy seeking love during Pujo?
• How can Bengalis have nonveg food during religious festivities?
• Is it true that Bengalis grow completely insane from Panchami to Dashami?

To me, the rising smoke from Dhunuchi is the first sign of Agomoni (the arrival); the first rhythm, the Dhaki sets the Dhak to is the second sign of a much awaited festival; the early morning of Mahalaya is the third sign. And once the Devipaksha begins; there is no looking back. It is all about the Pujo; not just ordinary Pujo but Durga Pujo (Puja).

Festivals are to be celebrated together. But, just when the Pujo is about to begin, what if someone breathes her or his last? The heart sinks; the mind numbs; the vision narrows; the words disappear; the euphoria calms. But does the Bengali soul in us sit down quietly? Perhaps not! Because by the time, I reach the end of this blog post, a Bengali from the other corner of the world will be wishing Shubha Panchami to a Bengali from just another corner of the world.

Yes. Durga Pujo (Puja) is almost not knocking on the doors any more. It has begun! Time to bring the hands together, blend into festivities of yet another amazing year. And, maybe wait for yet another love story to unfold. Oh did someone say, they will be serving Rosogolla after the Bhog? Dada, count me in. I will be right there. Come Maa. Let’s go!

- Virtuous Vociferous | October 02 | October Blog-1 | Never Settle | 2019

THE CHOOSING CEREMONY

It is all about the time spent

In preparation to start reading

A new book. During ‘The Choosing

Ceremony’ I feel closer to the

authors and their splendid

imaginations.

I think, this interesting hobby of writing something at the tail end of a Sunday, is fast turning into a tradition. A kind of tradition, I would love to keep alive happily. But this is just not one of those traditions for me to feel happy about. There are many others too. Traditions adds value to life. So keeping up with the journey of keeping traditions alive, I’ve been spending some time in staying indulged with a new ceremony. I call this ceremony – The Choosing Ceremony.

‘The Choosing Ceremony’ was not born accidentally. A considerable amount of quality time has gone into the organic evolution of this ceremony. I would love to pass on the reigns of this ceremony to generations of future. It could be my own generation or to the generations, created by others.

This special ceremony, which I now call ‘The Choosing Ceremony’ is usually held over the weekends. I’ve been holding this ceremony ever since my mom and I designed this special library of books for us. So, what is this ceremony all about? Let me help and put some light on this so simple, yet unique ceremony of mine, which might also at times I feel, is too personal.

The Shooting Star is my pick
for this season of The Choosing Ceremony

‘The Choosing Ceremony’ has got lot to do with the books, I choose in succession to read over a week’s time or during upcoming vacations. Since I dabble with multiple genres of fiction, nonfiction, crime, autobiographies, travelogues; at times, the entire experience of choosing between books can get a little overwhelming. Therefore, after I am done reading a book, I don’t take up to reading almost immediately. I allow the experience of the last read book to sink in. I love the entire process of imbibing the mood of a book. The way a book is written also takes me a little closer to the author and the beautiful mind of her/his, which gave birth to mind-boggling imaginations.

To put it in a simple manner, ‘The Choosing Ceremony’ is all about the time, I spend to prepare myself, my mind and my interest levels to start reading a book. I hold the ceremony to choose a particular book; select a particular author; zero in on the genre; run through the prefaces; admire and appreciate the covers; read a few reviews or analyze the author’s overall journey and the book’s journey as well. And for this simple reason, I prefer holding ‘The Choosing Ceremony’ over a weekend; especially on a Sunday. During this ceremony, I sit facing my library; I love gently touching the books, which I arrange almost in a manner of uniformity. Over the years, this practice or this tradition has helped in bringing in discipline to my hobby of reading and to the hobby of buying new books.

‘The Choosing Ceremony’ is also based on my mood of the moment. But strangely on most occasions, when I maybe feeling low or high due to some reason, ‘The Choosing Ceremony’ brings me back to my senses. I pick up a book almost sacredly. I cover the book with a transparent plastic sheet to save it from getting soiled or crushed by other items of my sling bag. And I guess, this ceremony will continue till the time, books are alive in this world and my relationship with the hobby of reading continues unhindered.

Thus, till the next episode of ‘The Choosing Ceremony’ unfolds, I shall read happily and wish everyone Happy Reading.

- Virtuous Vociferous | June 24 | June Blog-3 | Never Settle | 2019

BEING WITH SELF

Courtesy: Google

Solitude is a boon.

The sooner we accept this reality, the lesser aggrieved, we shall start feeling. Because in solitude, we are free to discover the other side, we ourselves might not be well acquainted with. Solitude makes it possible to celebrate being with self. The same self, which is otherwise caught in conversations, with the subconscious mind. At times, don’t we wish, these conversations had been a little more audible!

Being with self puts an end to expectations.

The self doesn’t cause delays. We don’t have to wait for anyone to report to us or met us on time. We can ourselves pursue punctuality and reap its benefits.

Being with self, makes life breathe through that single window opening of hope. Hurts of all nature; be it physical or emotional, start maintaining a safe distance. Mediums of healing are always found to be in agreement with the self.

This self shouldn’t be confused with being selfish. Usage of terms like, ‘me time’, ‘my space’, ‘my time’, ‘my zone’, ‘my world’ sound good and land closer to the core thought process of ‘being with self’.

The self that is being written about, the being with self that is being pursued is immensely interesting. The characteristics are brighter like freedom, happiness and oneness. It is understandable when it grows a little hard to move on from your faithful others. But this is different. The time to move on with this infectious self is now.

This self could be the strength behind that long harbored determination to fall in love again. This self could be the partner in the long wished journey to the invisible tip of the globe. This self could be the next train you wish to board and travel unannounced to an unknown destination of not your choice, but of instinct.

Some say, “Being with self is loneliness.” Try looking at it in a slightly different manner and soak in the abundance.

The abundance of being with self. And yes, discover the richness of being with self.

- Virtuous Vociferous | February 20 | February Blog-3 | Never Settle | 2019

AT THE EXTREME EDGE OF NIGHT

She is not home tonight. She seems to have found a new companion. During festive seasons, she keeps busy. The neighborhood is quite abuzz with curiosity over some of her secret doings and some not so secret doings. She is bold. She drinks a little more than the men, she befriends. She eats a lot less than the women, she detests. She is not home tonight. I feel relieved that she is not home tonight.

I think, it is the fourth time in last two weeks, that she has gone missing. Last time, she had wrongly knocked on my door. Right in the middle of the night, she had knocked on my door. Bloody hell, who could it be? That was my first expression. On opening the door, my second expression was charming enough to leave a lasting impression – Oh, I am so sorry to have not imagined, it could be you!

Was she impressed by that corny line of mine? Yes, she was! I couldn’t press the door against her any longer. She walked in. She smelt of alcohol, burnt tobacco and the perfume advertised by Kristen Stewart (Channel or Chanel). She came closer; too close to make me feel uncomfortable (actually to get me more excited).

Kiss. Do you wish to kiss me? The question still echoes in my mind. Kiss. Do you wish to kiss me? The question still leaves me excited. Kiss. Do you wish to kiss me? The question still leaves me feeling a little pissed off!

After having asked the question, she had walked back to her apartment. I had followed her. Had she seen me following her? Had she not? She had slammed the door on me. I remember it tonight. Because, she is not home tonight.

I wish every night could be like this night, I am left alone with desires to hold her tight.

What is that smell all about? She had asked me once, when I had crossed over to her apartment, right in the middle of the day. She had gently opened the door. Her home seemed a little undone. I could see the traces of an undesired visitor show up loudly in her eyes. I had turned. She called for me. I turned again and made it back to the door of her apartment. She invited me in. I sat on the sofa and waited for her turn to close the door and settle down for a conversation. But all she did was, ask the question – What is that smell all about?

I remember of having sniffed and also having replied – That’s not a smell, that’s the fragrance of my new deodorant.

Deodorant? She had questioned. Deodorant? She had asked again. Deodorant? She kept asking. It’s still a smell; she had remarked.

Before I could call her a bloody whatever, she had suddenly come closer and whispered in my ears – Men smell good when they don’t wear a deodorant, do you understand Mister Ambassador of Deodorant?

There have been complaints flying wild in the air, within the neighborhood and around it. I was left a little unsettled by the realization – What if they ban her from entering her own home?

The fear of my realization did find its home in the notice they had slammed on her face. But somehow, she managed to stay back and continues to stay here, right here, in this home. Many haven’t seen her come in or go out; many nights after nights. But I’ve seen her sit here, sleep here and stay right here.

Because at the extreme edge of night, it is only her spirit, which wanders around. And prior to that, whoever saw her alive was of the opinion that she is one of those walking dead.

Thankfully, she is not home tonight. But I can still hear her hum:

Home is behind, the world ahead,

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadows to the edge of night,

Until the stars are all alight.

I still wait for her; be it in her real form or in the form of a ghost that she shall come; we will definitely meet at the extreme edge of night.

Only, I have a different name for her, I call her INSPIRATION. And what’s the harm, if she decides on her own to visit my mind, at the extreme edge of night! And she is the one to also make me write; again at the extreme edge of night.

- Virtuous Vociferous | December 26 | December Blog-3 | Making of the story | 2018

IN THE KINGDOM OF CAPTAIN KIAN

Captain Kian

I felt his soft fingers tickle my chin. As I slowly opened my eyes, his eyes were on me. For a moment, I had forgotten that I had gone partying last night. Had it not been for him, I would have not believed of having woken up in the little kingdom that he proudly stakes his claim to.

In the ‘Kingdom of Captain Kian’, I am his subject. On other days, I have never felt the need to spot a snail. Neither have I placed a rarely found stone and a beach shell around a snail, to serve as an interesting topic for a perfect Instagram update. 

Captain Kian’s kingdom holds a special place in my heart for the things, his kingdom holds within itself. My favorite sighting though is his little bicycle, which is parked right below his father’s bicycle, which actually hangs out of the wall, right behind their kitchen wall. Or did I mention about Captain Kian’s tiny helmet, which is placed right on the top of his father’s huge helmet and besides his mother’s stylish helmet!

I’ve always been a fan of Captain Kian’s enthusiasm. Just last week, he won a medal for having run a marathon of 5 kms, which took him through hilly terrains and plain lands. The vision of the medal dangling around Captain Kian’s neck is yet to fade out of my memory. It won’t, I am sure, the vision won’t fade; no memory of his has ever faded out. 

Captain Kian is a quick learner. His proud mother shared with me an incident as to how Captain Kian strummed his guitar to an audience of marathon runners and participants. If I am not mistaken, he was instantly bestowed the title of ‘The Young Guitarist’. 

At the age that Captain Kian is now, I hadn’t even thought of taking up cooking. But apart from pursuing many hobbies, Captain Kian has a penchant for cooking too. His mother had once shared with me a video of him presenting his very own procedure of cooking a delicacy. I was stunned by his mannerisms. If he takes this part seriously, he may fare exceptionally well as a chef too. How can I forget mentioning the breakfast he made for me? A breakfast of bread slices, with cheese and peri peri between them! I wish, I could have had them more! Only that, I had chosen to begin with a light diet.

Captain Kian's Kingdom of Joy

By now, while reading, you must have realized that Captain Kian dons many hats. He is a very good creator too. If you get a chance, do take some time off your busy schedule to see as to what he does with his Legos. I got the chance to see it. I sensed the passion with which, he had created a structure. This structure holds a swimming pool, two Bankura horses (wooden toy horses, I had gifted to his mother). He has also parked a huge vehicle, closer, very closer to the structure. The vehicle, in Captain Kian’s words, “is a transformer and can take any shape anytime.” Since the structure needs security, Captain Kian has deputed one of the many robots one gets to see in Michael Bay’s movie version of the ‘Transformers’. 

In here, I also wish to mention that Captain Kian is an animal lover too! He secretly smuggles in kittens in his home (even though his mother is highly allergic to them), feeds stray dogs and shares a warm relationship with birds.

Captain Kian and I have one thing in common; we both love books. I’ve seen him sit with a book. He won’t leave a single word unread. Once he is done, it becomes our automatic responsibility to make ourselves available for the series of questions, he would demand answers to; of course from us! But I trust his knowledge more than mine. He might be a bookworm but his ways of learning things are not bookish. Maybe that is something, he seems to have inherited from his cinematographer father or his writer mother (others know her as a medical writer, for me she is a writer; a fellow writer).

Of the performer in him, that I am a fan of, Captain Kian leaves no stone unturned. If he takes a liking to someone, he can put up an instant performance too. Till the time I was preparing to take his leave from his kingdom at Shivaji Park, he shook a leg or two to a folk song. I recorded that moment on my mobile. I shall cherish it for days to come.

As I bid a heavy hearted good bye to Captain Kian, he came closer to me and whispered in my ears – Why can’t you stay back? Why do you have to leave every time? Can’t you spend an entire day with me/us? To his questions, I had the simplest answer in the most affirmative tone – I will definitely make sure that I meet every demand of yours. By the window side, where we had our morning breakfast and our cups of tea, Captain Kian once again expressed that he wishes to revisit my residence. He further added, he wishes to stay back for a day or two.

If the future gives me a chance, I would like to write an entire series with Captain Kian as the central hero. Will his character be that of a detective? I don’t think so. But if I ever get the chance to establish one connection between his character and mine, it would be of that pure emotion, which stirred within me the feeling of parenthood. All this, in his little kingdom of joy… Captain Kian’s Kingdom of joy!

- Virtuous Vociferous | August 12 | August Blog-1 | Making of the story | 2018

NOMADIC BY CHOICE

Ralph Weldo Emerson had once quoted

“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air”

From the time I discovered this quote, my mind hasn’t stopped slipping in and out of a meditative state. Every action, I’ve been initiating since then has been a lot more footloose, free and fun as well.

Talking about being footloose, free and fun, reminds me of the nomad that I’ve been seeking for a long time. Therefore, today when I settled down with a sane mind to think, I decided that I would rather write things with a nomadic bent of mind.

I can sense the nomad. From millions of miles away, I can sense the nomad. Do I need any words to describe it as well? I am fine being the nomad with the nomad.

The transition may seem sudden but it isn’t. The transition is a result of many untaken journeys to barren lands, forgotten destinations and unheard philosophies.

I am enjoying this transition. Even though it is just a week now; the nomad and I have been together. We are exploring. The nomad is invisible at the moment. Right now, the nomad is an imagination, which doesn’t necessarily demand to be presented in a human form. Is the nomad human? Undoubtedly the nomad is human. I would rather say - "I am in love with my Dear Nomad. Let the world count my words and sense through."

The nomad is immune to all opinions. The journey with the nomad too is immune to all opinions. To sum it up, I am in a mood to celebrate this nomadic state of being rather than staying stuck in fulfilling expectations.

My desires are in place - “To live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air”

But I am not alone anymore; this fertile phase of transition is with me. The nomad is with me! Cups after cups of coffee to run an unending marathon of words. Thankfully the thinking nomad's soul beats within me to keep me going strong and take the right turn to destinations undefined!

At this moment, as I stare at a blank piece of paper, I can envision the path ahead. There are challenges; big, small and unimaginable. But are these challenges going to pose a bigger challenge? As if I care! The path that I am envisioning right now possesses an element of distance; a distance that can’t be gauged or covered within a span of few hours. The presence of the nomad is the truth. The truth now is nomad.

As I reach the end of this post, I would like to open an imaginary bottle of champagne in my mind and spray its contents on everybody around it. Why am I celebrating? The reason is something; I think the other half of my imagination, the nomad is in a position to reply.

Days will conclude as weeks, weeks as months and then months as a complete year. Happily, there will be no regrets. Because even if none of us travel solo or together, the journeys would continue in full swing.

I see no reason to better conclude this post without bringing the nomad’s words into play - "The cleaved soul of the Nomad was left open to fix up. The other Nomad shamelessly slid in with love and stole it forever."

-Virtuous Vociferous | November 19 | November Blog-1 | 2017