The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

An interesting book that I recently came across is the spiritual classic The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. It is quite rare to encounter books that offer you spiritual wisdom that helps you come to terms with two tough realities; life and death. Here, Sogyal Rinpoche offers you words of enlightenment that helps you see both life and death in a new light. 

Sogyal Rinpoche is one of the enlightened leaders of Tibetan Buddhism and was born in Kham in Eastern Tibet. He was recognised as the reincarnation of Terton Sogyal Lerab Lingpa, teacher to the thirteenth Dalai lama. His lifelong effort has been to make Tibetan Buddhism understandable to the common believers across the world.

In this book, he expresses with clarity and eloquence, the ancient wisdom of Tibet that has survived the test of time. He speaks of life and death with the same importance and describes how the Tibetan monks accept both with simplicity and open-mindedness. Despite of cultural differences, a reader might be interested in the Tibetan practices of life and death.

The preoccupation with death is a common theme in spiritual literature. However, in this book, Rinpoche speaks of death as an ultimate reality that everyone had to face and the ways in which we can prepare for our death, just like changing your clothes when they are worn out, as His Holiness the Dalai Lama says in his Foreword to the book. The writer speaks of the ways to understand the meaning of life, how to accept death and how to help the dying and the dead. 

According to the Buddhist belief system, you will be reincarnated based on your karma and your state of mind at the time of death can influence the quality of your next rebirth. One tradition the Buddhist have is to achieve a peaceful death and help others achieve a peaceful death. Usually, death is treated with disdain in many cultures but the Buddhists embrace death with equanimity. However,the book reinforces the need to offer spiritual help for the dying so that they can die peacefully and in a state of contentment with life. It also helps one to live with mindfulness and compassion.

Seed Cycling

Seed Cycling and its benefits 

Seed Cycling is a wellness habit that support hormone balance in a simple manner. In today's world, most women suffer from hormonal imbalances and health issues such as PMS, irregular menstruation, acne, PCOS, thyroid disease and chronic fatigue. 

   

It is a natural medication for regulating women's reproductive hormones. It is very useful at any stage of a woman's life including postmenopausal stage. 

You need to intake a regular quantity of seeds daily for three months in order to get best results from this process. The seeds should be consumed raw and freshly grounded seeds can be added to warm water, cornflakes or milkshakes. The seeds have hormone regulating properties and helps maintain estrogen and progestrone levels in the body. 

The seeds that are used during the follicular phase or the first stages of menstruation are flaxseed and pumpkin seed. Zinc in pumpkin seeds promotes progesterone production in the body and the phytoestrogens in flaxseed helps to bind the excess estrogen and remove it from the body. You can take flaxseed and pumpkin seed from the first day of your menstrual cycle and this helps in the curing of many fertility problems that women face today. 

You can take sunflower seeds and sesame seeds during the luteal phase- from the beginning of your fertile period. During this time, your progesterone levels increase and the body is ready for fertilization. Sesame seeds block excess estrogen and they are rich in zinc and selenium. Sunflower seeds are rich in Vitamin E and  Linolenic acid, both of which boost progesterone. 

This healthy habit of seed cycling can help you achieve a better reproductive cycle by maintaining a normal estrogen and progesterone level. It makes use of the healing properties of food to cure these reproductive ailments naturally. 

You can read more about it from The Simple Guide to Seed Cycling for Hormone Balance: Master this Natural Healing Habit to Reduce PMS, Improve Fertility, and Ease Menopause Written by Sadie Cook

#seedcycling

#sunflowerseeds 

#pumpkinseeds

#sesameseeds

#flaxseeds 

#womenshealth

Word addiction

I think during my childhood and growing years, I have had this strange habit of reading while having food. It was an interesting habit especially of savouring the food and the words at the same time. At times, this was a way of getting past the reality of bland food during Lent times. Staying vegetarian for around fifty-six long days was unbearable in childhood though one had to do it out of obedience. However, on growing up, this religious habit of staying away from non-vegetarian food became completely out of fashion.

Even in my twenties, I would reach out for pickle jars on the dining table just for reading the print so that I keep myself occupied while eating. It's not that I don't know what's in the pickle; I guess it's a habit or rather an addiction to printed words. This might extend to the information on creams, food products, cleaning solutions, toothpastes and so on. There are some curious instances where one might encounter an error and burst out laughing just like when I read the label on a face cleanser: Apply on a cotton pad every morning. Or boards on the road like the one for the Dry-Cleaning Shop that reads Dying, Cleaning and others. 

Then there are some days of reading spree, when one might abandon connections with the external world so that one might step into the magical world of books. After buying a kindle reader in 2017, this habit of reading has become so addictive as one can read whenever you want whatever you want. One looks with pride at the verbal worlds explored and the journeys made, all sitting at your favourite armchair.

This act of stepping into the unknown can bring unexpected delights, such as feeling the touch of earth on your feet, remembering the feel of how the bark of a tree or your lover's limbs felt like on your soft hands or relishing the game of lovemaking with the one you love. It might bring unexpected delights from nature such as the pleasant full moonlight night or cascades of flowing water or the fresh life-giving air of verdant canopies. But the memory of a world full of adventure that you read in a book beckons you  to a world similar to the one  Lucy stepped into right from her wardrobe. 

Empath: The Essential Guide to Developing Your Psychic Abilities, Protecting Your Energy and Thriving as a Sensitive Person in an Overstimulating World

Empath: The Essential Guide to Developing Your Psychic Abilities, Protecting Your Energy and Thriving as a Sensitive Person in an Overstimulating World by Vica Maya 

One of the problems that affect a person in today’s world is an overburdening of negative energy that you receive from surroundings and from the people you meet. This can create emotional imbalances especially if the person is very sensitive. Now, in her book, Empath: The Essential Guide to Developing Your Psychic Abilities, Protecting Your Energy and Thriving as a Sensitive Person in an Overstimulating World , the author Vica Maya points out some of the techniques that can be used by empaths in order to protect your energy and to find balance in a life filled with unforeseen negativity and trauma. 

Who is an empath? An empath is someone who is highly sensitive to the emotions and energy of others; more correctly an emotional sponge as Dr. Judith Orloff says. Empathy means the ability to walk a mile in someone’s shoes and it denotes the ability to understand what the other person is experiencing. When you are empathetic to people in need of your support, you are doing a good deed but you might put others before you and might suffer from distress as a result. This might lead to a burnout as you might be drained of your emotional energy. Here, in her book Vica Maya, throws light into the personality of an empath as a giver and not a taker leading to certain amounts of distress and discomfort emotionally and physically. 

In the book, Vica Maya speaks of ways in ways the lost energy can be replenished through various methods such as getting touch with yourself and by reconnecting yourself to the natural world. She gives some wonderful methods to protect your energy and to heal yourself by surrounding yourself with love and light. So rather than getting completely exhausted by absorbing the negative energy around you, you can create a balance by replenishing yourself by cleansing your aura or by spending some alone time or by meditating. So, the key to preventing burn-out is by getting recharged through flow activities or by spending time in nature. 

She also points out how many of the empaths though burdened by oversensitivities are blessed with psychic abilities such as clairvoyance, clairsentience, clairaudience and claircognizance. She describes the ways in which an empath can channel into the energy of the Universe and can live guided by trusting one’s intuition. 

Nature has the power to heal all the wounds of negativity and the author lists an interesting set of techniques to replenish your emotional energy. She also speaks of the ways in which an empath can create strong boundaries and heal oneself emotionally and spiritually. This self-help book is not just another book that you will read and forget; it is more like a workbook that can read again and again in order to find ways to connect with your heart’s wisdom and to the natural world. It is a must read for sensitive people as it helps you understand your personality and talks of the ways to regain your positivity in a today’s busy world.  

Summer Rains

In the rising heat of April, you dream of the monsoons, the waterbodies that give you comfort and tall glasses of cool and tasty drinks that offer you solace. You read up old lores on how the ancient Indian musician Tansen made rain with his raga Megh Malhar and the power of music to bring about change in nature. And, there you are lost watching a video online of an Indian musician sitting under a banyan tree singing this raga and in ten minutes, it starts raining all of a sudden. 

On the way back from work, you look with longing at the river nearby and long to immerse yourself in its soothing waters till you no longer remember the sizzling heat of summer. In the orchards, you watch how the waterspouts drizzle the plants to prevent them from turning wan. And, you long to play in the water like you did in a long lost childhood near the River Green. 

The fruit heaps on the wayside shop beckon you with their fragrances-guavas, watermelons, lime and mangoes. When you look at these and think of the cool sorbets that you can make with crushed ice and some mint leaves. Yet, sometimes when no fruits are available, usually resort to your traditional summer drink of buttermilk that you enjoy making at home mixing the right amounts of buttermilk, shallots  ginger, curry leaves, jeera powder and salt. And, you wonder how some simple ingredients available at home can create a magical drink that makes you forget the woes of this scorching season. 

In the lazy evenings, you smear yourself with turmeric and sandalwood in a routine to beat the heat. The sun shows on your face and in the exposed parts of your body way too much and the paste cools you down and you prepare for your nightly sleep, though you might have to get up and pour water on yourself twice or thrice in the night to do so. 

In this summer tedium, one longs for the beats of the monsoon,the warm smell of rising earth during the first rain, the lazy mornings when one sleeps in when you don't have to go anywhere and just like that in this between time of twilight, when the lamps are lit for prayer and prayers chanted in the temples, one dreams of home, of being one with you. My heart reaches for you in these eons of absence with a longing that I have never known before when I remember how during twilight, we would enjoy our moments of togetherness. Like one longs for rain in this summer tedium, I long for our days of togetherness. 

You remember rain- the sudden outburst, the sound of pitter-patter beating against the tin roof, the occasional thunderbolts, the celebration of earth brimming with life and trees bedecked with jewels like brides. And, after the furnace-hot afternoons to nights of restlessness, it rains and you step right into the rain humming the rain raga. This sudden downpour makes you dream of your love and get goosebumps on your skin when you remember your first walk in the rain with him. He comes in your midnight dreams with unspoken desires and emotions that still have to find a way to form into words. 

Yet, we were never meant to be together in life, for we came from two different worlds of understanding and never really spoke the same language. What is left of a beautiful summer love are some lovely memories and so many million words written in absence scattered across the yearly journals. Though you are not mine to own, you are the first one whom I called mine and you have walked with me everywhere ever since. And, in every round around the fire that I dreamt of, yours was the hand I held and you were there in every dream speaking the language of the heart even in the wordless silences. 

Yet, though lost, the memory of this young love can give an understanding about how this love would remain a window to the beauty of this world, like a chocolate bar that you savour alone too good to share it with others. And, you remember how you learnt the secrets of this life through an infinite longing to be with your love and how the same life spirit that runs through all beings gives you an understanding that there is no distance, no separation, no barrier between you and the one you love till the end of time. And, this summer tedium of absence may dampen your spirits and may last every lifetime you are born, you get a sense of recompense from remembering that this lost love is the most perfect thing that ever happened in your otherwise uneventful life. 

Chingamasam

For the whole year, I was looking forward to this month of Chingam, where I get to spend ten of my lovely days in my home near the River Pamba. It is our holiday taken out of the books, where we enjoy a quiet retreat from the hustle and bustle of the crowded city where we live. From where we live, we can hear the high spirits of the echoing boatsongs from the snakeboats dashing through the river.

We wander around like tourists looking at the sights, smells and sounds that have denied to us to the place where we live in---the noise of the cicadas at night, the fragrant jasmines at the window that beckons you at night, the September full moon peeping through the horizon in our night rides, the grandstyle of the chundanvallams as they make a run through the river Pamba and the touch of rain on our skins as we stand immersed in the river. And, to tell the River Pamba as you stand hollering in its waters, that you are home once again.

For me, I love this much-awaited time spent at my ancestral home, the place I was born. I just love the memories of Onam from childhood, where this was the time when one went frolicking in the water waiting for the palliyodams to show their power. On growing up, it meant eating out onam delicacies to your heart's content and relaxing after a long luxuriant bath daily for ten whole days- learning how to rewind and relax after a long days of hectic work.

It means going back to your roots and learning how to make the traditional curries from scratch though you never reach the perfection of your grandmother's tasty curries. It means the art of letting go of the modern trends that you learnt in your growing years to appreciate the taste of food handed over through generations. This effort of making traditional dishes from memories slowly grows into a personal recipe book as well, with special additions of favourites that we enjoyed.

We wake up early in the twilight time and enjoy our morning coffee outside. Often, we wander across the green fields nearby taking in the breathtaking loveliness of the morning sights. Even the bird formations and the ducks swaddling delight us and our pixels. During dusk, we listen to the sounds of the insects and see the birds flying home in perfect formation. And, we listen to the gurgling of the stream nearby.

The days of our togetherness are marked with identical shades of kasavu saree and kasavu mundu and shirt. I wear strings of jasmine on my hair and darken my eyes with kohl. After the sumptous Onam feast made with the help from the whole family, we rest together like the ancient king and his demure queen. You sing the old boatsongs in your mellow voice and I sing along like a beginner as usual. Like, newly weds we learn the art of togetherness though it's been quite some decades. And, this is the Onam that we might know till the end of our lives. 

Ode to the Uppumanga

Ode to the Uppumanga

From my memories of summer vacations spent near the River Green, what stands out is a special dish made by my grandmother when we paid her a surprise visit. We did not inform her of our coming beforehand and she did not have time to prepare anything special. So, she took out some mangoes in brine from her big bharani and mixed it with ground coconut to make the tastiest mango curry I have eaten. After lunch, I remember eating brined mango slices to my heart's content. 

When I was pregnant, I was homesick and I craved for my favourite foods from home, the mezhukkupurattis, moru, puttu, idiyyapam, motta kuzhalappam, kadumanga and uppumanga. Being away from my family, it was not possible to get a taste of even the quick-fix dishes that my mother made. I even had a flashback of uluvamanga that my grandmother used to make during Lent. My husband's family, though Malayalis were brought up in Andamans,  where they had this habit of eating mostly chappathis and North Indian curries and this made me feel completely out of place. 

And, though I have seen most of the traditional Kerala dishes, I did not have practice making many of them. Then, one fine day, I decided to make some puttu and it was successful. Then, idiyappam and motta kuzhalappam tasted good. I still craved for uppumanga and instant mango pickle that my mother used to make. When coming back from work, I bought some raw mangoes and went straight to the kitchen. Then, in a flash of inspiration, I made the instant pickle mixing all the ingredients like my mother does and the result was a pleasant smell that came from the kitchen and my happy heart to have satisfied one pregnancy craving. I remembered this when I tasted some really tasty mango pickle yesterday that made me have a foodgasm.

Better Tomorrow

As he mixed the dough, he calculated in his mind the amount he would need for paying his son’s fees. If I made, a hundred porottas today may be I will get enough money. His wife had told him as he left for work, “Why don’t you ask any of the teachers?”“No, I can’t. That won’t be fair”.

“They get a lot of money every month, chetta. All you need is just ask and you will six hundred rupees for sending him for study tour. “

“I know it’s his twelfth standard and he needs to study things. But how can I ask them? They might be getting money, a lot of it. But they also have families, children, car loans, house loans and the list is long. Unless they are like RJ who has a lot of money, no children and no sense of humanity.

You and your stories, Jaya laughed.

Now, when mixing the dough, he was counting all the time. What can a small college canteen bring in a day? Not much but he was well loved by the people as he was an honest man who did his work and never complained. Well, today was different.

“Three porottas and vegetable curry”. A little voice said. It was a girl from the first year. Not that he knew her name or class but could easily make out that she was from the first year by looking at her. First years are of three types- the glam girls making lots of noise wherever they are, the bookworms who are never out of the library and the shy ones who try to make themselves as invisible as possible.

 As he was giving her the plate, he noticed that how small she was. May be too young to be in college. She smiled and said “thank you”, which reminded him of his little girl Lakshmi. 

“Where are you from?” he dared.I’m from Kollam. I stay at the hostel here. Where are you from?”

In his twenty years at the canteen, nobody had asked him such a question. He was surprised.

“What happened? Are you not keeping well?”the little girl asked. 

“Nothing kid. I was just worried about something”.Then he thought of how he could offer a special package today and make fees for his son and for his little Lakshmi who has to go to college someday.

There has to be a better tomorrow someday, better from this mundane existence. He wrote a fresh entry on the board. “Take home packages of porotta and curries. Book yours now”.

Shiva Shakti Talks

A really interesting book that I came across recently is Shiva Shakti Talks by Dr. Pallavi Kwatra. I was just reading a random sample on kindle and I was hooked by the simplicity as well as the kind of spirit of oneness that was inherent in the work. So, the next step was downloading the book immediately. The mystery of love as well as the close bonding between Shiva and Shakti is explored in the work. When I finished reading the book, what I felt was that there should have been more of it.

The book is a series of 112 short but succint conversations between Shiva and Shakti. Based on the Vignana Bhairava, a tantric text that dates back to Kashmir of 800 AD, the book is about tantra and of the interplay of the divine masculine and the divine feminine. The text is a lovesong between Shiva and Shakti, the interplay of elements along with the degrees of bonding in the relationship.

In the work, the writer Dr. Kwatra portrays Shiva and Shakti not as two persons but as two opposite energies that are constantly at play. As she observes in the Introduction to the work, "Shakti inquires and Shiva responds and illuminates". The questions that are posed by Shakti show her thoughts about their bond and vary from love to possessiveness to separation. But Shiva promises that there is no separation between them as they are united at the bindhu. What the writer aims is to show how these conversations are "the sukhsm (subtle) murmerings that happen at the hridhayam (heart) and are only meant to nudge the reader to do his own inner work".

The experience of reading the book stays even when one finishes reading it. The intensity of the relationship between the masculine and the feminine energies remains etched in the mind even after you put the book down.

My River Pamba

 The River Green always looks like a sheet of green glass, flowing majestically and serenely. It was in a small town beside this river Pamba that we-my brother and me- grew up fighting each other and playing in the water.

My memories associated with the river are innumerable.Every evening we, along with my aunt or grandmother and cousins would walk to the river and play in the water for an hour. Every day was fun, with us staying in the water for at least an hour, though both of us never learned how to swim, splashing and shouting, while the sun set and it grew dark.

In the still waters, near the banks, people washed clothes and for bathing or swimming they walked to where the flowing water was. It was an adventure to stand in the flowing currents without falling. It requires considerable practice. Once we rescued a plaintain trunk from the currents and gave it to a neighbour, who had cows. It was a big adventure, something that brought a "we" feeling between my brother and me, who were like Tom and jerry throughout childhood.

The river was part of the life there, its dips and floods, festivals like Onam, Maramon Convention or Aranmula boat-race. Everybody went to the shops set as part of Maramon Convention, irrespective of religion. That was one time, when all sorts of things came in the shops- bangles, toys, shoes, clothes and items of food.

Then there are boat-rides across the river, holidays during floods (once we had 10 days of holidays) Onam and Aranmula boatrace, when the decorated boats travel across the river to the beat of the boatsongs. It can be heard from a distance and all children will run to the riverbank on hearing the boatsong from the distance.

On the night of Thiruvonam,belief has that Lord Mahabali comes to see his subjects on his boat called Thiruvonathoni. After midnight, people wait on the banks of the river with lighted torches and lamps for the well-lighted Thiruvonathoni. This was one adventure for we, children to boast about. The ones who had slept that night had nothing to talk about and felt ashamed the next day.

Now the river has changed. It is no longer clean. Clean water exists in the middle of the river and it's a long walk. You need to wade through muddy waters to take bath in clean water and then after bath, through muddy waters again. Yet, with all its differences, this is one of the sacred spaces, I can reach in an instant, travelling in thoughts, to where I like to stand, on that mound of rocks (called pulumuttu), with the entire river, looking like a large sheet of green glass, clean and clear.

No wonder, everytime, I stand there in real, I step into the waters and become a child, splashing and loving the water. My young cousins are like ducks, "no getting them out of water". Last time,on my visit to the river, I went till the middle of the river, to where the currents are and splashed there along with my five cousins, while my frantic mother was waving to us from the shore. Short-sightedness is at times a wonderful excuse and I pretended that i didnt see her and went back after an hour or so, drenched completely and dipping water. 

I guess as a child, I related everything to the river. Once during family dinner, when I was six or seven, I told my grandfather that the sky ended at the other side of the river. He roared with laughter and asked me:"Really?"

Evenings at the Indian Coffee House

In this middle age, I wonder how life has turned out to be, so different from the images that I had when someone asked me to imagine how life will be after ten years. I have always dreamt of you at my side as my life-partner, with two lovely children of ours to greet the days, a comfortable set of old friends to grow old together and a cosy little home that I took time to decorate with curios from the places we visited together as a couple and a huge library of all the books that we used to read. 

But when I reached this milestone all I have is a history of losses- the disappointment of a broken love that almost came to fruition, the years spent trying to pull yourself back together, the indifference of your loved ones, the absence of real friends and the lacks that are spelt so clearly and in bold letters everyday. It has been years since you called anyone a friend as you have only acquiantances and you never offer a shoulder to cry as you used to do before nor ask solace from anyone despite of being miserable and broken. You wear a brave face in the crowds and break down miserably in your solitude as you plod on with your busy everyday life. 

Then in the evenings and weekends you form a bond with your workmate and share the same sense of joy at the aroma of freshly ground coffee and piping hot Masala dosa at your favourite haunt, the old Coffee House in the city. On some busy days, you have to scream to make your companion understand what you are trying to say, all amidst the hustle and bustle of the staff in the old Coffeehouse, full of life. 

Over a period of months, we form a unique bond, minus our histories and sad luggage, looking forward to what is served on the menu only with a common love shared for solitary hangouts be it an evening by the seashore or a quiet swim in the nearby river. Gradually, your sad face attains a brightness of being loved in return without knowing any of your past  wounds and your time is spent in tasting the old brew of hot coffee and eating the same Masala dosas. We write a life of being in the moment -looking forward to our days of favourite comfort food at our favourite hangout.

The Unsent Letters

Happy Friendship Day

Under the banyan tree

Under the tender banyan tree
Who loves to sit with me,
And sing his soulful songs,
Watch the tender leaves flicker-
Come here, come here, come here!
Here we shall live
With no worries
All through this summer.


Our dreams soar sky high
Forever in the sunshine
Happy where we are
Happy with what we have
Come here, come here, come here!
Here we shall love
With no fears
All through this summer.

Green Again

A bit of bright blue sky to sing aloud;
A pelt of rain to sleep comfortably;
A bit of thunder and lightning to look
And feel brave and happy at times.

The swooping  airshow by the kites;
Caught by the eye and not on the lens,
The evening palettes in hues of blue,
That brings back some thoughts of you.

Like a chorus in a song, you play nonstop,
While I watch the skies and the rain,
Look at the fresh green banyan leaves
Turn wan in the summer sun like me.

The tiny heart-shaped leaves will flicker,
And our hearts will turn green once again.

Two Souls

Literature

Positive Affirmations

Babagoo

Babagoo