Manual of the Warrior of Light

A warrior of light knows that certain moments repeat themselves.
He often finds himself faced by the same problems and situations, and seeing these difficult situations return, he grows depressed, thinking that he is incapable of making any progress in life.
‘I’ve been through all this before,’ he says to his heart.
‘Yes, you have been through all this before,’ replies his heart. ‘But you have never been beyond it.’
Then the warrior realises that these repeated experiences have but one aim: to teach him what he does not want to learn. 

Sunrise

To wake at dawn with a winged heart

and give thanks for another day of loving...

Kahlil Gibran

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Journal Entry 3

When I go on a writing spree, it is as if a 
creative spirit comes alive that overwhelms all the other ways of thinking and living that I am used to. This spree is unlike moviebinging or book-reading spree, or musical overloads that I occasionally experience. It gives a kind of balance to a chaotic mind and recompenses the losses that this life has suffered till recently.
Life has not been easy, and it has suffered so many unforeseen calamities, wounds that need healing and losses that have become the habit. Yet when you enter this creative phase of writing out your mind, this life spirit makes its presence felt and keeps you believe that you are exactly where you should have been. Also, there have been many instances of sheer good fortune.

In the olden days, when I was in college, what I wanted the most was freedom, to break free like Icarus and fly out of the many mazes that surrounded you. Then, in the thirties, one longed for stability, for having a fixed routine with no big surprises or twists and turns- like watching a favourite film one has viewed so many times, with life moving in predictable patterns. 

Now, nearing forty, one thinks of all these big dreams of freedom or stability with a bit of indifference. What I might like right now is to enjoy life, taking time to savour individual moments because I have become forgetful, unlike the young days, and it might ta

Journal Entry Day 2

I have begun writing in this beautiful new book, in a diary with a green cover, ready to inhabit the creative space that is offered by the blank pages. As I said earlier, writing in a diary is often like baring yourself before the one you love, without any inhibitions and without self-consciousness. I want my lover to admire the beauty of my curves, the tiny details that make my body apart, with its moles and warts. Just like that, I want you to take in my writing with all its beauty and its flaws, completely, unconditionally. So, off to revealing my heart thoughts to my confidante.

I haven't written like this in a long time with only a few lines a day because of the busy schedule of being a teacher and managing a household at the sametime. This year, I got myseld a diary with a green cover that says Save Our Trees, Save Our Earth. I am thinking of switching to the virtual format though as this business of writing down thoughts has become too tedious.

As I told you, this last year has been one of good fortune for various reasons. One doubts every year whether one has learnt enough. This life has been full of ups and downs, at times with nothing to bring in happiness. Despite troubles, one has survived though not overcome the obstacles that life threw in its paths. And regarding the blank pages, they can inspire a dull spirit by bringing back life. I felt something come alive within me as I stared at the fresh-scented blank pages. 

Journal Entry Day 1

The New Year began quietly at 0001 while I was busy writing in my journal. This has been my habit for the last many years when I have found happiness in journalling about the passing year and the coming one. Unlike childhood, when the New Year began with prayers in the church with the Midnight Mass, the years since my marriage in 2008 have been blessed with midnight musings and nothing else. I have jumped like the proverbial monkey from faith to spirituality to religion to nonbelieving all the time and its hardly news that I don't go to church any longer.

Writing in a journal often means that you are offering yourself, baring yourself  without any kind of censure. In some of the diary writing years, I have thought of publishing mine but it never happened that way because I was too busy with many things and my journal writing endeavours mostly fizzled out before the end of January. This year I want to write a journal that is worth publishing and want to create positive changes in all spheres of life

Chingam

When the much-awaited Chingam is around
You and I enjoy our days of togetherness,
The scent of sweet jasmines on our bed
Your fingers undoing my long-braided hair.

The long heaps of my kasavu sari all crumbled
Along with your two yards of shiny kasavu mundu
The sweetness of these long waiting years
That finds its way into your limbs and mine.

We rest together after a sumptous onam feast
Amid smells of childhood and old boatsongs
That you sing in your sweet mellow voice,
To the snake-boats across the River Green.

When the spring is finally around for us both
We reign an ancient king and his demure queen.

World Music Day

The Borrowers

Have you ever wondered where all those safety-pins that you had brought have gone? The little things in your home that suddenly disappear all on a sudden and never reappear- a doll and its set of accessories, pins, match-boxes and stamps.

The Borrowers by Mary Norton gives a fantastic picture of what happens to these small items. They are borrowed by small people who are smaller than Tom Thumb or Thumbelina. They use these small items in their day-to-day life. A piece of blotting paper can carpet the entire floor of their home, a stamp can act as a wall-paper, a wad of cotton can be a stool for Arriety Pod, the heroine of the book.

Arriety Clock lives with her father Pod and mother Homily under the floorboards of the kitchen of a large house. Pod is "seen" by a human "bean" and the parents are troubled. To prevent emigration, they introduce Arriety to the concept of borrowing. Pod takes her with him and she meets a small boy who is on vacation from India. They become friends and she reads stories to him.

Strange fact is that there are class-divisions even among these small people. The Clocks are a respectable lot who live next to the clock and whose house has all middle-class luxuries though they are sad that they don't have anyone to appreciate or envy them. The boy lavishes gifts on them- more carpets, more tea-sets and furniture until somebody finds out the truth.

The story is interesting in that Mary Norton creates a world that is small and believable. It fills you with awe in a way no other book does because even a mile's walk is a long journey for a Borrower because of the small size. The humans have conquered many of these limitations through advances in science and technology; so it is a relief to feel that this world is unreal and only in books. Otherwise a lot of our basic beliefs would be destroyed if such a world exists for humans as well. No wonder, Mary Norton's The Borrowers won the Carnegie Medal for the best children's book in 1952.

Prayer on waking up

Karāgre vasate lakșmeeh,
Karamūle saraswatee;
Karamadhye tu govindah,
Prabhāte karadarśanam.

“On the tip of fingers is Goddess Lakshmi, on the base of the fingers is Goddess Saraswati, in the middle of the fingers is Lord Govinda.”

Remembering this, on waking up one should look at their palms first before doing anything else.

Prayer of Love

My soul listen unto me!

Love thy Lord as the lotus loves water

Buffeted by waves its affection does not falter.
Creatures that have their being in water,
Taken out of water, die.

My soul if you have no such love
How will you obtain release?
If the Word of the wise is within us
We shall accumulate a store of devotion.

My soul listen onto me!
Love Your Lord as a fish loves water.
The more the water, the greater the joy,
Greater the tranquility of its body and mind.
Without water it cannot live one watch of the day
Only God knows the anguish of its heart.

My soul listen onto me!
Love Your Lord as water loves milk.
It takes on the heat, boils and evaporates before the milk can suffer.
He alone unites, He alone separates
He alone bestows true greatness.

Without the wise, love cannot be born
The dross of the ego cannot be rinsed away.
He who recognizes God within
Understands the secret of the Word and is happy.
O soul! There is but one gate to the Lord's mansion
And there is no other sanctuary.

The Sacred Feminine

The female voice

Mother Energy

Gayatri Mantra