Friday, December 25, 2015

THE BAREFOOT TRAVELER - 4



To Uttarkashi

We are at the foothill Hanumanchatti and the sun is reclining. Nature’s lighting has unique special effects. Environment is an Fx man (or woman) sans parel! Everything is in luminous yellow as if basking in glory. The altitude and the pollution-free air are the reason behind this magnificent scene, I guessed. Picture perfect, no painter can reproduce it perhaps!

Now, we have to plan our night-stay. Barkot is just 30 km away and we can stay at the same hotel. Or we can travel yet another five hours (covering 105 km) and land up in Uttarkashi. The advantage is that we can start-off early to Gangotri the next morning. We chose the first option because Rajan was not inclined to drive. The real reason lied elsewhere, i.e., drivers had a secret liaison with the hotel owners.

So we stayed at river side hotel for the second night. The Owner-Manager and his children were around always asking about our well-being. However, he didn’t employ proper staff for running the show and managed with child-labour more or less.  Anyway, care was taken to boil rice properly for the Kerala palate.

The next morning after breakfast, we were back on the road again.  A pleasant drive with a lovely climate. We could catch glimpses of Bhageerathi River. The thrill was partially lost when the devastating land-slides came into view. Going further down, the river was turning black. Nobody would want a dip in Ganga. Local populace were collecting logs of wood from the river. Some others were collecting mineral sand in Lorries. It’s a free-for-all.


land-slides all the way
Deodar (Devadaru) trees and Pine belonging to the coniferous group were the main vegetation. During the time of disaster, trees that fell into floodwaters reached upto Haridwar in a matter of hours! We collected pine-cones which had fallen down almost everywhere. Not susceptible to decay, it could substitute the finest curio in your show-case! The wood-coloured cones are actually the seeds of the tree.

On our way-up, we could see cultivations of Basmati, Bajra, Mustard and Potato. Every bit of plain land available by the banks of the river was used up for agriculture. Interestingly, Cannabis plants were a common sight. Once we had walked upto a small cultivation at the back-side of an eatery and nobody lost his/her cool.

Another interesting sighting was the Mountain Rose (Rhododendron). In the flowering season, the whole Uttarkhand was turning red!



entrance of the Shivgufa
We were racing ahead to Uttarkashi. Forty km away from the place, a stopover called Brahmakhet was beckoning us. A newly found cave named after Lord Shiva is the piece de resistance. Discovered only in 1998, its hardly noticeable from outside. The entrance is so narrow and one squeezes in with considerable dexterity. If you’re having a built-in paunch, you’ve had it.  

The Trissul outside Shivgufa

Take a deep breath and wait outside the entrance. One can watch the trident shaped tree and desi families sitting beneath in quiet contemplation. As a matter of fact, journeys are great levelers. The traveler is trained how to take setbacks in his/her stride.  Reverses can happen at any time. Accept it with a cheerful humility.


kedarganga flowing inside Shivgufa
Anyway, I was lucky. I got three excellent guides, Girish, Dinesh and Sooraj. Two of them were studying in the Third standard in the local school and Sooraj, the youngest was in Second. They approached me shyly and asked me whether I needed professional help. I was much amused seeing the Professional Service People and engaged them instantaneously. The leader Girish said their fee would be Rs. Five per guide. Two of them caught hold of me with their slender hands and we started climbing. It was a small trek with steps provided at difficult terrains. In fact, I was bailing out the professional people more often! We reached at the cave and Girish made a demo how to squeeze in. One has to lie down with face touching the ground and shove in using one’s elbows, grope for foot-holds on the rock. I was following his advice verbatim and quite unexpectedly Sooraj yelled,

Samp (snake)
I was at my wit’s end and memory blanked out for a moment.

Can you look up?  There is an image of a snake on the rock…
I was immensely relieved. These innocent children have an incredible sense of timing!

We slided down slowly one after another. A couple of oil lamps were providing gentle light inside the cave. A priest was in attendance too! My feet touched the running water! It was ice-cold but I felt the primordial calm going up my legs. Yes, River Kedarganga was flowing inside. Water was only knee-deep and tasted really good. We could examine the interior without much difficulty.  There was a Swayambhu Shivaling at the center alongwith some sort of peculiar rock formation at the top of the cave.
It is the Lord’s jada (hairdo), they tell you.
What’s more, there is Lord Ganesha, again swayambhu, in his usual sitting posture.
If you take a closer look, there are rock formations which resemble lotus flowers. You guessed it right……..”Brahmakamal

natural formation of rock inside the cave 

After taking photographs sans permission, we had pressed our bodies against the rock and pushed our way-out. The kids were still there squabbling among themselves.

What’s the matter?
The quarrelling stopped abruptly. They were ashamed of themselves bickering over the distribution of booty. I had given them Rs. 10 each.
This one started the row. Not me…
The buck was being passed around!
What do you do with the money?
Ghar pe deta hoom, they replied in unision.
Impressed, Jayakumar opened his wallet and paid them Rs.30 each. It was quite a big sum for them to handle, rendering them speechless!
Then came the master stroke. Thulaseedas kept a hundred rupee note with the Leader.

The next moment, they just vanished without trace! All of them were running away to nowhere at break neck speed.
Obviously, we had to reach the road without the help of our professional guides.

We set out quickly to Uttarkashi. The idea was to have lunch at the town. Further, we would join for arati at Kashi Viswanath Temple.  I wanted to visit the place where Ustad Bismillah Khan used to give Shehnai concerts.

We reached Uttar Kashi behind schedule. Had thali lunch from a dirty restaurant. In fact, we were getting sick of searching for a proper eating-place under the blazing sun. Checked into a clean hotel by the evening.  We presented ourselves before Kashi Viswanath well before the appointed hour. I asked about Bismillah Khan to a temple-official. He didn’t have much idea but didn’t show his ignorance. Handling the situation like a deft politician, he took hold of my hand and led me to the back side of the sanctum-sanctorum, pointed to the left corner and said,
This is the place.
Then, where would the audience sit? I queried.
Oh, they would sit anywhere, he said without batting an eye-lid.

Reaching back at the Hotel, I approached the reception. They too, drew a blank.
I approached a gentleman sitting on a sofa and repeated my question. Now, it was my turn to get embarrassed on account of my own ignorance.

Ustad Bismilla Khan lived in Dakshin Kashi (Banares).


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Photo credits :  R. Jayakumar


WISHING YOU MERRY X-MAS & A HAPPY NEW YEAR !

Thursday, November 26, 2015

BAREFOOT TRAVELER – 3



Yamunotri

There weren’t too many takers for the Ruskin Bond plan. Nobody was hell bent on meeting him. At least my son should have been inclined. Alas, on the crucial moment, he looked the other way!

We proceeded headlong to Barkot. On the left side Yamuna flowed shyly, Water level was far too low, flow was less than normal and the river-banks looked deserted. Obviously, she had no grounds to put on airs! Since there were too many stones and pebbles, water frothed while flowing over and the whole river looked milky. The sight was magical! Yamuna was punctuated by tiny deltas every now and then. Only cogon grass (darbha grass - “Poa Cynosuroide”) grew there. No other plant wanted a sojourn with Yamuna! Of course, darbha made a strong presence. No idea whether they were used in religious ceremonies. The delta-darbha had very long blades with sharp edges, capable of inflicting wounds! A biological sword, one could say! According to Bhagavatha, Lord Krishna’s descendants fought a biological warfare using darbhas among other things and got perished. 

Miniscule water-falls were trying to intercept the River. The full moon was reigning supreme. Yamuna was turning celestial.
Riding through a moon-lit dream, we found ourselves already high without any props. We had almost lost the sense of direction. We reached at Barkot when the night was still young. We were lucky enough to get an entire hotel-Gau Yamuna- to ourselves. None else was staying.

Gau with a view

We took the ground floor rooms opening out to the river. I put some restraint and didn’t venture out into Yamuna at an odd time. However, Jayakumar and Thulaseedas took it up on themselves to wade through the knee-deep water to reach one of the deltas! It was getting scary, the moon-light had an ethereal element which made the air real and pulsating! The environment turned into an entity with life! As if the whole Nature was trying to convey a secret message to us! I got frightened for no reason. Might be because I couldn’t stand the onslaught of beauty.

I retired into the thick rajai and had a good-night’s sleep.
We woke up early next morning and hit the road by eight.                                                    
The sun was very bright and it was as if the whole Nature got a face-lift. There was no pollution, and all sceneries were picture perfect! Only the landslides made an aberration. On our way to Hanumanchatti, suddenly we were startled by a shriek! Thulaseedas spotted the snow-capped mountains first and couldn’t contain his exhilaration! The jeep was stopped almost simultaneously and we jumped out. It was a village square with an accumulation of a few shops. The place was called  Ranachatty.

We had breakfast from a local joint, watching the snow-capped mountains. Everything was prepared on the spot before our eyes. One could ask any question to the village folks and there would be a polite reply. The customer-friendliness was no marketing strategy. Those villagers were a transparent lot. They seemed to be happy living on essentials. They would never say “no”. Expecting something positive, we pointed towards the snow-capped mountain-top.

Can we set foot on the snow?

Nope. We didn’t stand much of a chance. If we wanted a holiday in snow, we have to come back in Jan exclusively for a freak-out! For six months the whole place would be deserted!


Hanumanchatti, the starting point was still 2.5 km off.  The road ended there. One was supposed to trek or travel aboard a mule.  Total of 10 km to be trekked, to & fro with or without the help of mules. It would take a minimum of seven hours.Even before reaching the place, jockeys Arun Sony and his bosom pal Pramod Kumar had jumped onto the foot-board of our jeep! Yet another herd of young jockeys was following! A pony ride which would have fetched them Rs.900 on a normal day was being peddled at less than half the rate! The rates were still coming down. One guy even quoted Rs.300.

This would happen only in a Himalayan village, I thought. Competitors at other tourist-spots would make a secret deal called “ring” and nobody was permitted to under-quote. They are free to fleece the unsuspecting tourist!

We settled for Arun at Rs.400. Both Arun and Pramod were very young, in their late teens perhaps. They had to drop out at tenth standard to make an earning to support their large families. The duo was remarkably intelligent and articulate. Pramod even had a live e-mail account. Ironically, their village, situated 35 km away from Yamunotri was named “Khushi Matt” (Abode of Happiness)!

They had raised enough money and bought two mules, Raja and Rany, six years back, each capable of carrying 150 kg. Raja and Rani have to be pressed into service together, otherwise they would refuse to move. We hired the royal couple, not because we wanted the pony experience but to give their owners a breather.

Jayakumar, Arun ,Pramod  and an unknown traveler warm their bones while the tea is getting ready at Yamunotri
In a moment’s notice, Arun flipped me atop Raja. I was worried on account of my overbearing 70 kg of body mass. However, I was no match for the slim built, under-nourished pahadi! He instructed me to keep cool and to clutch the hook provided at the lower neck of my carrier. Needless to say, mine was a vice like grip. Frankly, I was scared like hell! The mule was not comfortable with me and it started moving zigzag. The trekking path was narrow with rock on one side and iron railings on the other. On hair-pin bends, I had too many brush with rock projections.  Ha, the pain was intolerable for a few seconds. Anyway, I didn’t get down.

trekking path
At last, Yamunotri became visible! The trekking path was nearing its end. Quite an unassuming temple with River Yamuna gushing out forcefully in front. There was a foot-over bridge and one looked up for the source. Saptarshi Kund, that’s the name, remained out of reach to commoners like us. It required three days of strenuous climbing.

Yamunotri temple and Saptarshi Kund
We dropped the idea and spread ourselves on the cement benches built in front of the temple. The sun was shining bright and the air was fairly crystalline.   Contrary to expectation, the climate was not unbearably cold! We could have taken bath in the hot-water pond available at the temple but we didn’t feel like getting up. The pond was crowded but that was only an excuse. The sun-rays and the sound of cascaded water flow soothed our nerves and we wanted to lie there watching the sky till the end of our lives!

                                                                                             
                                                                                                         (photo credits - R.Jayakumar)


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Sunday, October 25, 2015

BAREFOOT TRAVELER - 2

Mussoorie in Mind


Suddenly it happened. Driver Rajan and his Tavera. The pair almost looked like a village performer with his faithful. Unlike the cyclist, Rajan Nair does not sport a pleasant disposition.   He is a self-made man who funded himself for his education, job, marriage and every other endeavor. Nair ran away from home, in his early teens from the tyranny of his father. He was an alcoholic.

I wanted to buy some clothes. I had already made the blunder of purchasing all woolen and thermal wear from Kerala and was looking forward to buying casual stuff from the first stop-over. Actually I should have done the reverse. Track suits are excellent for any kind of Himalayan pursuit, especially the types used by athletes in cold weather. For primary protection, one should procure thermal clothing. All these and add-ons like hand gloves, monkey-cap and woolen socks were already bought at astronomically high prices from T’puram.

Don’t worry, Rajan said to me. I can get them at throw-away prices from any Himalayan town.

I was comforted. My personal collection of clothes was meagre  and I desperately needed a few pairs! The new idea was to get them from Dehradun.

Rajan was supposed to make up for the time lost. And the Haridwar-Dehradun Highway is relatively well-maintained.

We should reach the city by lunch time.

However, we were still hanging around at Haridwar. Some landmark temples were not to be missed.


just anguish and no fury

We stopped at   Daksheswar Mahadevji temple. Though it is dedicated to Daksha Prajapathi, the major presence is Lord himself with separate annexes for lesser deities. Unlike South Indian temples, no structure is imposing! A gopuram can make you feel small and insignificant. Here, the sanctum sanctorum is so simple and one feels like walking in. The priest does not stand formidable between the deity and the devotee. Anyone can walk in without hassles to the Lord’s abode and do Pooja with his/her offering in a plate. I didn’t have anything to submit, still I went ahead.

One can pray without words after all!

Back on the road, we started seeing glimpses of devastating landslides. 
That was just a beginning!

The landslide splits the hill into half

Get out now, Rajan yelled, it is Satikund.

We could see a marshy land with some ruins.

Is it a temple?, I asked.

No, this is the place where Daksha arranged his Yaga and Sati, his daughter was insulted in public. Sati didn’t take it lying down and jumped into the Yaga fire.

Hence Satikund.

That’s interesting, I thought. Anywhere in India, people connect a location with mythical connotation either from Ramayana or Mahabharata. For example, my home town Harippad (abridged from Haripada, perhaps) boasts of one of the best-known sacred groves of Kerala -the Mannarsala. Before reaching its periphery, you are educated even by strangers that Mannarsala has its roots in Khandavadaha, the ghastly forest fire mentioned in Mahabharatha. Sand was used in dousing the fire and the sand (mannu) got cooled (arriya) at that place (sala) begetting the name. Amusingly, in the original version, firefighting was done with water.

You don’t feel like asking questions. These stories are not for dissection with logic. You know fully well that Mannarsala is hardly ten kilometers away from the sea and a thick forest cannot exist there by any reckoning.

We gave Satikund a miss.
Tavera raced ahead.


Suddenly we saw a huge statue of Lord Shiva overlooking the whole area, much like Thiruvalluvar at Kanyakumari or Gauthama Buddha at Hussain Sagar, Hyderabad. People were taking bath in specially-designed snan ghats where water flow estimated at 60 kmph in the main river is regulated to its quarter by making short diversions.Quite a safe area! The place is called Arsipuri


bath while the Universal Life-guard is in attendance! (Photo - Nandu Bodhi)

Some people approach you with a triangular hard-broom tied to a long stick. This is a common sight in Uttarkhand and you’re supposed to contribute money. The broom-wielders are cleaning the holy place for your sake! Oddly enough, I haven’t seen anyone actually sweeping the ground!
Two kilometers ahead, you can have a brief intermission.

Mansadevi offers you a breath-taking (in terms of picturesque scenery) cable-car drive. Each cubicle accommodates four persons for Rs.750.

It struck to us that we were desperately seeking food while everybody back in Kerala relished sumptuous Onassadya. Yes, it was Thruvonam and we were literally on the road!  There was no eatery anywhere in sight. To make matters worse, Rajan skipped a few joints, as had a specific Dhaba in mind.

Onassadya under the cloth-lines

 At last our vehicle stopped in front of Shera Da Daba, a family venture run by pleasing and business -savvy Sardarjis. Rajan was a regular there. His food was taken care of, i.e., if he sat separately. Otherwise, the group was to foot his bill. Rajan took the lead and started ordering Onassadya. Aluparathas ghee-spread, chapattis, basmati rice, daal, paneer phalak, double sized papads, sliced onions, green salad and that was not enough!

“Payasam, can you make payasam?”

The Sardarjis looked puzzled.

See, it is nothing but kheer. You take boiled milk, add basmati rice and sugar! Simple!

The bearded friends were in no mood to oblige. In fact, Onam was a strange word for them!
Additionally, our language and noise combination was getting on their nerves. One of my North Indian friends commented that listening to a Malayalam conversation in a public place is like playing a LP record at 45 rpm!

We reached Dehradun late in the afternoon. An overgrown town, I guessed. People were beautiful and stylish in western clothes. However,  the purchase didn't come through . The price-tag was quite high. We were running behind time too.

Now, we have to reach Barkot before nightfall. The place is a village by the banks of Yamuna and getting rooms after sunset is difficult.

Rajan rose to the occasion and stepped on the accelerator. We felt as if we were flying!

I wanted him to stop at Mussoorie. All those training institutes in a scenic setting. Who cares! I wanted to make a visit to Ruskin Bond. To sip strong tea if he offers some and be in his presence. I wouldn’t be asking any questions, sure!

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Photo credits:  Jayakumar. R.








Thursday, September 24, 2015

BAREFOOT TRAVELLER

Haridwar


If you’ve crossed fifty and still serving, sometimes the urge to prove yourself bothers you like an itch. You have an assortment of diseases, mild to chronic but you have ceased to care, well almost .You are tired of seeing yourself beside the  executive high-back chair of the doctor(s), on a meek stool. Grin and bear it, Boss, that’s your predicament. Still, there exists a small wish-list in mind. Like traveling the length and breadth of India, publishing a book, joining a non-profit organization in the education/health sector..... and the list ends. Does it come through? If yes, it’s fine.  What if it doesn’t? Fine, again. Normally people respond in a different way. My colleague at the Institute used to scale 3500 ft. Ponmudi Motta every year and felt like a victor. See, I can take on this topsy-turvy world any time, he said to himself. See, the rub is still intact, the fire hasn’t subsided.

I didn't  have to prove anything. For no particular reason, I started planning a Himalayan trip. Ten days of quality travel from Delhi, visiting Char Dham in Uttarkhand via the gateway towns of Haridwar and Rishikesh. Who would be the partners, people who are willing to suffer me with my accumulation of oddities? My son Nandu had no other option. Thulaseedas , a much younger colleague had a soft corner for me and I manipulated it to my advantage. The last in the foursome was a 'rebel and a gentleman', Jayakumar. He was a research-fellow who quit the Institute as well as doctorate ambitions when faced with injustice from the authorities.

The first thing we did was to collect maximum info from well-known travel writers. Sadly enough, nobody was willing to offer much help. The response from a (veteran) Himalayan writer was particularly disappointing. In fact, travel makes one less selfish and more lovable. One becomes transparent and forgiving.  I have a feeling that some people just make journeys and write a lot.

At last, help descended as if from nowhere. Shri. Dileep who is coordinating efforts  in solid waste-disposal, prepared a micro plan complete with places of stay, sites to visit, distance to be covered and time taken. Young and unmarried, he makes it to very difficult locations where only professional climbers go.

I could feel the difference between the writer’s and climber’s approach. A climber is rather focused.

a rudraksha vendor by the Ganga
We had booked our Railway tickets well in advance from Delhi to Haridwar and back  with ten days’ space in between.  This saved us a lot of worries. Before daybreak we were at Haridwar, journeying six hours and thrown suddenly into an entirely different realm. People squatted everywhere, cows etc. moved around unconcerned while house-flies enjoying a free-for-all. At every nook and corner of the town!. Since Dileep had already booked a room at the Ayyappa temple, situated less than a kilometer away from Haridwar railway station, we didn’t have to worry about boarding & lodging. The temple was built in the sixties by Shri.Krishnan Namboothiri of Payyannoor. The Satram which can boast of AC deluxe rooms is annexed later. More often than not, a Saptaham goes on there and you’re in luck. Excellent vegetarian fare, hot& soft iddlis with matching sambar are served free. You don’t have to sit in the discourse hall either, listening to Bhagavatham in Sanskrit.  That’s an advantage! I asked Vishnu Namboothiri, the priest-cum-manager of the temple complex why he couldn’t manage the discourse. Visitors from Kerala bring their own Yajnacharya and listen to him in the special ambiance of Haridwar.

Vishnu is young and honest. He said he was not taught the sacred book.

breakfast by the daybreak

Our transport was also arranged by the Namboothiri. Tavera jeep driven by its owner Rajan Nair for Rs.3000/- per day had already been fixed. Rajan was yet to make an appearance. Meanwhile I went out for a walk. Barring the ubiquitous temples, Haridwar is just like any other North Indian town. The whole place is active before daybreak. Breakfast is ready and waiting in road-side stalls with a few plastic stools spread over the already cramped road. There are several takers too, for samosas and vada-pav. However, the dirt neutralizes the appetite. We had been given several regimes in managing food in Uttarakhand and the most important one was to avoid exotic food. Use only kiln fresh, hot, alu-porathas and if it is not available, go for chappathis. Ask for curd and no major dishes. Green chilies are served free. Onion is a costly affair these days and you must order for green salad to make up for its absence. This is on the assumption that you have brought several types of achchar from home.  Otherwise, try to be comfortable with its desi versions. Carry a bit of butter too. If the achchar plan crashes, you can still survive!

waiting for customers
Have you been to any Maharastrian city during the Ganesh Festival? One gets the same kind of annoyance visiting Haridwar. Loud music is criss-crossing in the air from umpteen temples. A baritone voice declares a name and the donation he made to a particular temple followed by the never-ending list of his relatives.The idea was to share the punya earned!

The river Ganga flows in fury and people are making desperate attempts to take a dip. A very difficult task indeed! The water is ice-cold. The current is rather strong. Iron chains suitable for elephants are provided throughout the river bank. In a frenzy people hold on to it, men and women, splash water on their bodies and make a quick exit!


No heavy rush, anywhere.

The tragedy two years back has taken its toll. Traffic regulation on a hourly basis is no more in force. One can walk in and get a room at discounted rate any time. However, the roads are still  in bad shape.At some places, one can see only the remaining half!  The other half had been washed away! Bridges too! If it rains, you're in for trouble.

*****



Tuesday, August 25, 2015

OSHO ON LOVE



Love needs no reference

That's the beauty of love and the freedom of love. Hate is a bondage. Hate is imprisonment – imposed by you upon yourself. And hate creates hate, hate provokes hate. If you hate somebody you are creating hate in that person's heart for yourself.

"Love, and the earth becomes a paradise again. And the immense beauty of love is that it has no reference. Love comes from you for no reason at all. It is your outpouring bliss, it is your sharing of your heart. It is the sharing of the song of your being. And sharing is so joyful – hence one shares. Sharing for sharing's sake, for no other motive.

"But the love you have known in the past is not the love Buddha is talking about or I am talking about. Your love is nothing but the other side of hate. Hence, your love has reference: somebody has been beautiful to you yesterday, he was so nice that you feel great love for him. This is not love; this is the other side of hate – the reference proves it. This is hate disguised as love – that's why your love can turn into hate any moment. Scratch a person just a little bit, and the love disappears and hate arises.
smitha m. babu - untitled - acrylic on canvas

Love Basically Is a State of Being

"The real thing is not a relationship but a state; one is not in love but one is love. Whenever I talk about love remember this: I am talking about the state of love. Yes, relationship is perfectly good, but the relationship is going to be false if you have not attained to the state of love. Then the relationship is not only a pretension, it is a dangerous pretension, because it can go on befooling you; it can go on giving you the sense that you know what love is, and you don't know. Love basically is a state of being; one is not in love, one is love.

"And that love arises not by falling in love with somebody. That love arises by going in – not by falling but by rising, soaring upwards, higher than you. It is a kind of surpassing. A man is love when his being is silent; it is the song of silence. A Buddha is love, a Jesus is love – not in love with a particular person, but simply love. Their very climate is love. It is not addressed to anybody in particular, it is spreading in all directions. Whosoever comes close to a Buddha will feel it, will be showered by it, will be bathed in it. And it is unconditionally so.

"Love makes no conditions, no ifs, no buts. Love never says, "Fulfill these requirements, then I will love you." Love is like breathing: when it happens you are simply love. It does not matter who comes close to you, the sinner or the saint. Whosoever comes close to you starts feeling the vibe of love, is rejoiced. Love is unconditional giving – but only those are capable of giving who have."

ponmani thomas- untitled- acrylic on canvas

Relationship Destroys Love

"Relationship is a structure, and love is unstructured. So love relates, certainly, but never becomes a relationship. Love is a moment-to-moment process. Remember it. Love is a state of your being, not a relationship. There are loving people and there are unloving people. Unloving people pretend to be loving through the relationship. Loving people need not have any relationship – love is enough.
"Be a loving person rather than in a love relationship – because relationships happen one day and disappear another day. They are flowers; in the morning they bloom, by the evening they are gone.

"You be a loving person.

"But people find it very difficult to be a loving person, so they create a relationship – and befool that way that "Now I am a loving person because I am in a relationship." And the relationship may be just one of monopoly, possessiveness, exclusiveness.

"Relationship may be just out of fear, may not have anything to do with love. Relationship may be just a kind of security – financial or something else. The relationship is needed only because love is not there. Relationship is a substitute.

sosa joseph - untitled - acrylic on canvas

Love Is a Door

"If there is passion in love, then love will become hell. If there is attachment in love, then love will be a prison. If love is passionless it will become heaven. If love is without attachment then love itself is the divine.

"Love has both possibilities. You can have passion and attachment in love: then it is as if you have tied a stone around the neck of the bird of love so that it cannot fly. Or as if you have put the bird of love in a golden cage. However precious the cage may be – it may be studded with diamonds and jewels – a cage is still a cage and it will destroy the bird's capacity to fly.

"When you remove passion and attachment from love, when your love is pure, innocent, formless, when you give in love and don't demand, when love is only a giving, when love is an emperor, not a beggar; when you are happy because someone has accepted your love and you don't trade love, you ask nothing in return, then you are liberating this bird of love into the open sky. Then you are strengthening its wings. Then this bird can set out on the journey to the infinite.

"Love has made people fall and love has made people rise high. It all depends on what you have done with love. Love is a very mysterious phenomenon. It is a door – on one side is suffering, on the other side is bliss; on one side is hell, on the other side is heaven; on one side is sansara, the wheel of life and death, on the other side is liberation. Love is a door.

"If you have only known a love full of passion and attachment, then when Jesus says, "God is love," you will not be able to understand it.

"You have also known love – but whenever you knew love you knew only a love full of passion and attachment. Your love was not really love. Your love was only a curtain to hide the passion, attachment and sex. On the outside you called it love, inside it was something else. 




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Thursday, July 30, 2015

OSHO ON LOVE




I have taken excerpts from his various talks on Love. Instead of me interfering with cumbersome explanations, let Osho do the talking. Love in his own words. I fact, there is nothing new, we are all familiar with these concepts. Just we didn't bother to practice, the ideas remained abstract. Osho explains things with clarity. His words are unassumingly simple.


Love is Nourishment in Itself

"You love in one way when you love your husband or your wife; then you have to bring another kind of love when you love your children, and another kind of love when you love your elders, your family, your teachers, and then another kind of love for your friends. But the truth is, love cannot be categorized the way it has been categorized throughout the whole history of mankind. There were reasons for them to categorize it but their reasons are ugly and inhuman, because in this categorization they killed love... 

"The reason why all the cultures have insisted on categorization is because they have been very much afraid of love, is because if there is existential love, then it does not know boundaries – then you cannot put Hindus against Mohammedans, then you cannot put Protestants against Catholics. Then you cannot draw a line saying that you cannot love this person because he is Jewish, Chinese. The leaders of the world wanted to divide the world, but to divide the world they have to do the basic division which is of love."


Sentiments Are Not Stones, They Are Like Rose Flowers



"There are three layers of the human individual: his physiology, the body; his psychology, the mind; and his being, his eternal self. Love can exist on all the three planes, but its qualities will be different. On the plane of physiology, body, it is simply sexuality. You can call it love, because the word love seems to be poetic, beautiful. But ninety-nine percent of people are calling their sex, love. Sex is biological, physiological. Your chemistry, your hormones – everything material is involved in it… 


"Only one percent of people know a little bit deeper. Poets, painters, musicians, dancers, singers have a sensitivity that they can feel beyond the body. They can feel the beauties of the mind, the sensitivities of the heart, because they live on that plane themselves. But a musician, a painter, a poet, lives on a different plane. He does not think, he feels. And because he lives in his heart, he can feel the other person's heart. That is ordinarily called love.





"Why are many people not moving to the second plane because it is tremendously beautiful? But there is a problem: anything very beautiful is also very delicate. It is not hardware, it is made of very fragile glass. And once a mirror has fallen and broken, then there is no way to put it together. People are afraid to get so much involved that they reach to the delicate layers of love,   

"Poets are known, artists are known to fall in love almost every day. Their love is like a rose flower. While it is there it is so fragrant, so alive, dancing in the wind, in the rain, in the sun, asserting its beauty. But by the evening it may be gone, and you cannot do anything to prevent it. The deeper love of the heart is just like a breeze that comes into your room, brings its freshness, coolness, and then it is gone. You cannot catch hold of the wind in your fist. Very few people are so courageous as to live with a moment-to-moment, changing life. Hence, they have decided to fall into a love on which they can depend. 

"I don't know which kind of love you know – most probably the first kind, perhaps, the second kind. And you are afraid that if you reach your being, what will happen to your love? Certainly it will be gone – but you will not be a loser. A new kind of love will arise which arises only perhaps to one person in millions. That love can only be called lovingness." 




 Love Yourself



"We begin with one of the most profound sutras of Gautama the Buddha: 'Love yourself…'

"Just the opposite has been taught to you by all the traditions of the world, all the civilizations, all the cultures, all the churches. They say: "Love others, don't love yourself." And there is a certain cunning strategy behind their teaching. 



"Love is the nourishment for the soul. Just as food is to the body, so love is to the soul. Without food the body is weak, without love the soul is weak. And no state, no church, no vested interest, has ever wanted people to have strong souls, because a person with spiritual energy is bound to be rebellious. 



"Love makes you rebellious, revolutionary. Love gives you wings to soar high. Love gives you insight into things, so that nobody can deceive you, exploit you, oppress you. And the priests and the politicians survive only on your blood – they survive only on exploitation. All the priests and all the politicians are parasites. 



"To make you spiritually weak they have found a sure method, one hundred percent guaranteed, and that is to teach you not to love yourself. If a man cannot love himself he cannot love anybody else either. The teaching is very tricky. They say "Love others," because they know if you cannot love yourself you cannot love at all. But they go on saying, "Love others, love humanity, love God, love nature, love your wife, your husband, your children, your parents, but don't love yourself" – because to love oneself is selfish according to them. 



They condemn self-love as they condemn nothing else – and they have made their teaching look very logical. They say: "If you love yourself you will become an egoist, if you love yourself you will become narcissistic." It is not true. A man who loves himself finds that there is no ego in him. It is by loving others without loving yourself, trying to love others, that the ego arises. 


"The missionaries, the social reformers, the social servants, have the greatest egos in the world – naturally, because they think themselves to be superior human beings. They are not ordinary: ordinary people love themselves; they love others, they love great ideals, they love God. And all their love is false, because all their love is without any roots. A man who loves himself takes the first step towards real love." 




Real Love Is Capable of Being Alone

"One can be in deep love and yet be alone. In fact, one can be alone only when one is in deep love. The depth of love creates an ocean around you, a deep ocean, and you become an island, utterly alone. Yes, the ocean goes on throwing its waves on your shore, but the more the ocean crashes with its waves on your shore, the more integrated you are, the more rooted, the more centered you are. Love has value only because it gives you aloneness. It gives you space enough to be on your own. 

"Hence, it looks very contradictory, paradoxical, when stated in such a way: "Love brings aloneness." You were thinking all along that love brings togetherness. I am not saying that it does not bring togetherness, but unless you are alone you cannot be together. Who is going to be together? Two persons are needed to be together, two independent persons are needed to be together. A togetherness will be rich, infinitely rich, if both the persons are utterly independent. If they are dependent on each other, it is not a togetherness – it is a slavery, it is a bondage.

"If they are dependent on each other, clinging, possessive, if they don't allow each other to be alone, if they don't allow each other space enough to grow, they are enemies, not lovers; they are destructive to each other, they are not helping each other to find their souls, their beings. What kind of love is this? It may be just fear of being alone; hence they are clinging to each other. But real love knows no fear. Real love is capable of being alone, utterly alone, and out of that aloneness grows a togetherness."

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