Good. Bad. True. False.

Yesterday's task from A Course in Miracles - the book I'm reading- said,
I'm upset because I see a meaningless world.

I see a ----- world, but I'm upset because I see a meaningless world.

I see an ignorant world, a chaotic world, a selfish world, a difficult world, a struggling world, a sick world, a surviving world, a suffering world, but I'm upset because I see a meaningless world.
The world actually is meaningless, devoid of any such inherent meaning. Just like my thoughts, these associations, these labels are my own.

In this inherently meaningless world I look for certainty, clarity, meaning on the outside - in books, horoscopes, opinions of those I perceive important, I rummage through the past and look for references and examples. I place people in my situation and myself in theirs, to look for what would be logical and acceptable and wise to do. In the Good World I percieve, I search for the Bad to prove the World truly Good and my perception correct. On coming across Good in the Bad World, I think them to be signs, miracles, or doubt my perception, and lead myself into utter confusion.

But the Truth is beyond both Good and Bad, because good and bad are things I've subjectively labelled onto things, people and occurrences. There may actually be Ultimate Good and Ultimate Bad or may not. But I'm not going to figure them out through my frivolous thoughts about a meaningless world.

Somewhere over the Rainbow

(click to listen to the song on youtube) 

Somewhere over the rainbow 
way up high
And the dreams that you dream of 
once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow 
blue birds fly
And the dreams that you dream of, 
dreams really do come true

Someday I'll wish upon a star, 
wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney tops is where you'll find me
Somewhere over the rainbow 
bluebirds fly
And the dreams that you dare to, 
oh why, oh why can't I?

Well I see trees of green and red roses too,
I'll watch then bloom for me and you
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

One's daily life is the realisation of the ultimate reality

[excerpts from an email]

Knowing what to do is not enough, and even reading what I have to do many times over is not the same as doing it.

Confusion sometimes can be a step leading to clarity.

"Attaining this place, one's daily life is the realisation of the ultimate reality [genjokoan]. Attaining this place, our daily life is the realisation of the ultimate reality."

 

-To Forget the Self by Dogen Zenji in The Buddha and His Teachings.

Everyday questions from one's daily life have often helped unlock profound truths. Starting from Buddha finding sickness, death and asceticism on his journey on an average day. To disregard these events might not always be the wisest thing to do. However, if one is overwhelmed its not a fair place to think from, I agree. To be able to discern why the event is significant and what it teaches us, an ability to do so has to be developed through practice on a daily basis - the ability to see things as they are.
Yet, nothing is certain.

Zen says truth has nothing to do with authority, truth has nothing to do with tradition, truth has nothing to do with the past - truth is a radical, personal realization. You have to come to it.

Knowledge is certain; the search for personal knowing is very, very hazardous. Nobody can guarantee it. If you ask me if I can guarantee anything, I say I cannot guarantee you anything. I can only guarantee danger, that much is certain. I can only guarantee you a long adventure with every possibility of going astray and never reaching the goal. But one thing is certain: the very search will help you to grow.

I can guarantee only growth. Danger will be there, sacrifice will be there; you will be moving every day into the unknown, into the uncharted, and there will be no map to follow, no guide to follow. Yes, there are millions of dangers and you can go astray and you can get lost, but that is the only way one grows.

Insecurity is the only way to grow, to face danger is the only way to grow, to accept the challenge of the unknown is the only way to grow.

Osho Dang Dang Doko Dang Chapter 7

Do we do life? or...

In keeping with the earlier theme of "We are the makers of our fate" here's another question
Do we do life? or does life happen?

There is something about facing the sea

click to enlarge image

There is something about facing the pushing curtain of wind at the face of the sea. The same wind that causes ripples in the sea causes creases on your clothes, causes your hair to flutter and causes a hurricane in your ears and an earthquake for your eye lashes. There is something therapeutic about being thrashed with the waves of the sea. Perhaps it is in these places that one finds their strength. Strength , I said the word aloud at this juncture to check if I had written it right. The sky is more clouds than sun and an airplane full of people is piercing its way through them. So many people could be on this plane with so many stories. There's a man in bright red shorts and a pale blue shirt fishing in front of me in the distance. I wonder if he sings. There are as many crows as there are plastic bags in the sea. It's filthy. The sky is a yellow blue grey and the water is a silvery blue grey. I'm a blue grey too. But inside, in the corner of myself, I've found a bit of myself. This afternoon another wave crashed on my stone and then went back into the sea. I watched another wave, another airplane, all at my very own splendid sky.

life's like that only... what to do?

You know sometimes you are just thinking about somebody. Ok, not just anybody it would have to be somehow a special somebody. You could just go on and on. You could have an imaginary conversation, in the dark reflective surface of your laptop, in the bathroom, in broad daylight with no one around, which leads to my point - then you pick up your phone and as an extension to your silliness you text them. Something totally not related, totally off-topic and absolutely 100% loony. I will refrain from giving you an example. Now, I have spent several times in different phases of my life -from the time where there were no cell phones and landlines were used to give blank calls, and then in college when lame conversation was the norm to now when everything you want to do, say or seem has got to be intelligent or somewhat double meaning. All this time I was wondering if I'm the only woman to do it. (yes, it seems so men rarely do things like this, or at least it wont be the man you are thinking about, but some other who is thinking about you)
I am, very much, aware that this such an escape route from a boring present- painstaking page layouts or hours of transcription work for example... but why? Why do we do this endlessly? In a loop again and again and again?
And this morning, in one long session of transcription work, it came to me. We just have to be in the present. I know, I know, we have heard this, seen it, attempts have been made to stuff it down our throats but we've been too busy talking to ourselves through all of this and not felt it. But this morning I did. It just felt right, every little peice of the room I sat in, was suddenly brighter, clearer and nothing outside the room was important. I did, however, at this juncture take the oppurtunity to have an imaginary conversation, with an imagined female tarot client and tell her about leaving her cell phone, forgetting her facebook, twitter, what-not and all these escape routes and doing the stuff she needed to do.Face the boring room, the dull laptop screen and then making time for that glorious sun set hour Tai Chi session on the sea side.
phew!
Life's like that. Up and down like a wave. Even the sun isn't spared. Up and down. Morning and Evening. Day and Night. Clarity and Confusion. The wave of life. Something surely stands constant though we think, the witness of these waves? perhaps the particle and the wave?
... they say light is both particle and wave...

and then I finished the first tape of my transcribing assignment

WE ARE PARTICLES

26th June 2011.

Don't laugh. But I believe I'm on the path to enlightenment. While, if you think like me do- enlightenment is inevitable. Just like water flowing down a slope.All through our individual lives, we are busy knowing - one way or another through mistakes or safety. Why, I can bring myself to say that I am on the path to enlightenment is because each day something marvellouw reveals itself to me, and it only feels like meeting an old friend.
WE ARE PARTICLES
We are as free as an atom is, as an electron is. The other day when I said this to a friend, he said even electrons have personalities - it is in their unique number of spins.
WE ARE PARTICLES growing aware of other particles - wondering what they do and how they behave.The Earth's unique rotation governs our time. Perhaps the earth is just another electron. It is where the minute meets the gigantic perhaps where the trivial becomes the fundamental. The electron and the earth. And I thought, this thought made our social life sort of purposeless, meaningless. A huge waste of time. But perhaps, just as an electron must live a lifetime in a hundredth of a milisecond of a reaction, just as the house fly does in a day, we live our lives in what we can perceive. ( this we have begun to call time?)
WE ARE PARTICLES in an event called life.
Perhaps our social life then, is our means of understanding the chemistry, the nature of the particles we are. When we speak of a mysterious energy of a space, energy/ aura of a person - then we are talking of nothing mystical but simple properties of the particles we are and the kind of transformation we are capable of. Mysterious events are those we cannot perceive- because they are so stretched in time or so quick- like our bodily processes.
Everything is an event. Even a rock is transforming, even plastic, the earth, the universe.

Makes me think it does make sense to pray to plants, to the rocks, to plants, to planets, to rain because they are particles as we are particles and we can move each other through our intent. Just as performers can. The earth can respond and so can the universe. A life lived in fear, moves all the particles in our surroundings into the cause of our fear and aids in creating it.

The embrace

Writing fresh from an embrace,
I feel, had this happened a few years ago,
I would have still reached the realization-
There is nothing but love.
The rest is all that stuff, the stuff that keeps us
from seeing it, from feeling it
and from being it.
6 years ago, when I began writing this blog
it was to grieve the lack of love,
the love that was torn away from me,
that which was incubating me taken away
and I was left lose into the world...
on my own, to face myself
and the truth that everything around me
was pretty much a decomposing white lie.
I love you, I trust you, I value you,
I am your parent.
All fundamental truths,
those on which I had based my self,
shook, broke and left me.
There weren't any pieces to pick
and continue
but a whole new beginning.

I stood there alone, knowing all the people I loved
knew these truths as true all along,
and the lies and lies all along.
I couldn't handle it.
I had given up.. I saw no way out of it.

Today,
6 years and an embrace later,
a fearless sort of love, a return to yourself,
or someone you have seen always in the mirror
but never met.
In the meeting of the eyes, a curiosity so simple,
that no will or moment could pose its awkward threat.
Love truly is
Where there is nothing else.
Just a calm place, a sort of zero,
from where we could hold a conversation today.
I had the strongest feeling of entering into your heart
a hot yellow flash of light and disappearing.
The surest physical sensation that we are one.
we are all one, sujay. we are all love.

Doing as Vasu said.

Following Vasu's task of putting random words into stories I've decided to make my posts similar. These drawings are assorted precipitants of The Everyday everyday. The arrangement is random and when I upload them there isn't much that ties them together but the fact that they are on the same page and that this stuff has somehow passed through me. Vasu is a member of the House of the Cult.24th April 2011 was a Sunday. Sunday is a great day to listen to Hindi songs anywhere from the 50's to 70's. Sholay was released in 1975, the year my parents got married. Hema Malini played the role of a familiarly talkative Basanti in Sholay. Plenty of people arrive to this blog looking for Basanti, Miss Chamko, Shiela ki jawaani and the like. She is a dear friend of Chamko Rani and Chamko Rani is not Miss Chamko. That will be made clear in the near future. Now, Hema Malini is called Bollywood's Dreamgirl which is Sapnon ki Rani in Hindi. In the song, "Mere sapnon ki rani" Rakesh Khanna is trying to woo a woman seated in a tram. The Lady who was seated in this chair at Daily Bread moved while I was drawing it and the bread from Daily Bread made me sick for days, and everyday turned to a Sunday.

Premism and the cults

"What is your next step?" is a question I am most asked by my parents and friends. It is also the question I least ask myself, because usually I look at what is passing by and hear my gut decide to follow it or not. The latest decision in the making is "Where to take the next steps you want to take?" Surely it's not at par with decisions about the Maoists, approaching monsoons-potholes and Japan's nuclear problem, but they sort of are, at the personal front.
The choice of destinations are Bombay and Bangalore as I might have discussed earlier in posts on the blog, conversations in cafes (if you are where I am) and other popular ways of booking faces- facebook. Because you see this question is connected to the deepest question man can ever ask, that of love, amour, of prem.

Ask me how?

Because all decisions are ways loving yourself, all choices are ways of carving better roads minus potholes and Maoists for yourself . (In the path of love, fearlessly we choose the path with potholes a many; but even a mother's carefulness is love.) I know the discontented restlessness one can I have from not being sufficiently productive or not justifying your talents, not blossoming to one's true potential and definitely not translating it into a means of income. These have been very efficiently illustrated with Mr. Father and Mrs. Mother. But none of the understanding rules out a feeling- The Feeling . None of Knowing What To Do, takes away the Waiting Till The Time Is Right and Knowing Today And Not Knowing Tomorrow.
All of this has, simply, to be sat through and enjoyed in good company and good weather like a movie on someone else's tragic but eventful life - full of miserability rescued by unexpected miracles. miserability rescued by miracles. i like that.So, I live in a cult home. The cult/religion/philosophy is work and make no friends, specially make no conversation unless it solves a function that you are aware of. So nothing goes without thinking of Where, What and How this will be received/understood/folded up and forgotten. As you may notice this is quite opposite of my manifesto and the way GOD has made me. So I find myself typing long hours of nonsense only to say DELETE ALL. I take walks in the park staring at the trees and thanking them for the shade, sometimes when no one is looking I dare to hug.
Although, yesterday was a freak circus in the nightsky TM when all the lanets united over drinks and pop corn to stare down at the little green patch on the earth. This very cult decided to go out for a random dinner and we ended up at a place in the dark, so dark you needed to ask for another candle. To which the waiter said "What!?! Another candle?!" Seems within 5.6 secs of entry we were already demanding too much. Then the cult continued within large pockets of silence to exchange a few words and even a few laughs. Some times the caps, and glasses came off to expose the true vulnerability of a wine drinking soul who would like to be happy but is too busy being intelligent and useful.

working working

Anything you don't want to do, but have to do now is called WORK.
People often take breaks from these tasks called WORK and blog about. At least in my days of the blog they used to. Now, facebook has taken over much of that.
Although what I do , I think is fun. But deadlines coming in and I want an assistant making scans while I sing and paint :P
Here's a rough draft for a book on witches I've been working on since I was in Goa.

Sneak preview!

everything is hand drawn/painted and then assembled on the computer. The characters are based on the author's family. The inspiration is his daughter, and the million stories he had to come up with, to entertain her. This is my first brush with drawing humans and bodies. I worked with a Korean painter and tattoo artist, Ji, in Goa over anatomy.. but loved making flat drawings. This witch is my favourite. I wanted to stick to pen and ink, black and white close ups of strange things and washes, but the book is for 7 yr olds and above, a bit of colour won't hurt anyone :)
love,
chamki

ps: post # 666

*

I had a dream this afternoon that I was hugging a version of myself that was clearly clinging onto me for dear life. A size smaller, slightly wrinkled wearing the same clothes I was (white muslin) wrapped to my chest with her arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders.
I tried to push her away when the grip got too intense and all she said was, "me" repeatedly in a whisper.
In my head I heard the word "ego", but who knows what the word meant.
It didn't feel heavy or light, not a burden or any different from everyday. But she was afraid and needed me all the time. She was afraid I'd push her away and she would die. then I woke up

Just a little prayer. Oh blog!

Hello again. Perhaps, I was being overly critical or I meditated so much that I reached stages where I didn't need to talk anymore. The latter being highly unlikely, I was prevented from writing about what I felt, what I thought and what I did.
I don't really think I've ever written on this space for others as much as myself. What I've shared has been extremely beneficial only and mostly for myself. By seeing what you spew out, loud and clear one can witness oneself and hope to edit.
I know this might actually be of little use to the rest of society but it makes one person in the chaotic hippie-lands or crammed cities a little easier to deal with. That person is me.
Yes, in this way I love myself.

In the last year I left my job, the closest I had to routine and wandered in emotions of hormonal happiness, impulse and desperation in Goa and Ibiza. This year I feel a little more open about Bombay again..

Bandra, where I grew up, to return would complete a circle of sorts.
I wake up and spend the sunlit hours debating the good and bad of Bombay and Bangalore.
One offers a fresh fast moving active population, inspired and creative in their own street smart ways, entangled and pouring out of trains, while the other offers a laid back crowd, greedy autorickshawalas and a sense of comfortable confidence of living in a small town (yes, I think social life here is small townish) . I almost know everyone in Bangalore.(at least it feels like it)
The 2 people who inspire me (unknowingly) to come to Bombay again are Paro and Suraag, (also nice to visit home once in a while). As for Bangalore: Shilo, Tapas and a long list of friends similarly confused and jobless.

Perhaps it is easy to be creative and playful as a student bent over homework. The kind of lust for the newspaper and sketches when one should be preparing for the geography exam. It can be very different being your own boss and tiffinwala.

I've been excited by projects and saddened and blocked by myself too many times this year. I've been surprised many times by the sudden marriages of my friends. I've questions my choices watching the progress of others.People have called my life "the dream life" too easily and far too many times recently. Equal number of people have called me flaky, scattered and distracted. I've changed 8 telephone numbers and a part of my hair has turned to dreadlocks. I've swam naked and danced for a music video, danced on the streets, attended an ayahuasca ceremony, sold cold drinks on beaches, given massages professionally, danced in water, made my first choreography, been a non dairy products person, received bio-magnetic therapy, attended tantra workshops, cut my friend's hair, performed in 2 international dance festivals, taught English to Spaniards, screamed in foreign woods, half way illustrated a children's book, learned to speak Spanish, had a decent conversation with my ex, bonded with my family, woken up in different beds 7 days of the week (alone), had a pet pup, lived in a hut, taught Hindi to the Dutch, been shocked to silence for 2 days, been part of past life regression therapy, family constellations and somatic practices. I've noticed my pattern with men and male attention. I've grown my hair to the middle of my back. Changed my mind far too many times. I own 2 cellphones with 3 numbers of 3 different cities.

Now, I want to make informed decisions. Drink coconut water and swim everyday. Draw and dance consistently. Rent a space of my own, which I transform into a studio-temple and love myself.Amen.

**

Another season of Goa wrapped up. Tai Chi, contact improvisation, dances on the beach, dances in video projections, massages given, raw food, reading Mohammad and a whole lot of meditation and listening to the body.
Somehow, the whole experience is too vast for words. The truth sounds corny. Perhaps the drawing does justice.

Kabootar tweet tweet tweet~ (rap for the world wide web)

You tube, I pod.
Agreed, our love at first website,
is a little odd.

From the day I saw your Facebook
and your poodle named Google,
under that billboard, round the corner
that said "Bill is Bored".
A gigantic Yahoo! Linked (you) in to my being.
By God! You flipped my kart!
Asklaila if you are not seeing.
You occupy a very soft blogspot in my heart.

Crystal Chanda Leir,
when your eyes flickr ,
my heart beats quikr.
Good things about you and your infinite grace...
uncountable!
as many words are wordpressed on MySpace.
you tweet , you tube at the speedoffart
I promise, I'll naver leave you,
I'll naver depart.

I'M DB. I have no choice.
ICQ and your sweet voice.

Skype is the limit !
and love is blind.
Let me be your PayPal,
since you are so kind.

Al K. Holik

Kabootar tweet tweet tweet was greatly inspired by
conversations with non-sleeping internet satyagraphees
at Koramangala who tape glasses on their faces
and flip karts for a living.

maps spam

you know that the world is going to be a better place when you get spam that says:

Be a LONG - man. Enhance your penis with this Herbal Formula.

strange but predictable

3 years ago I spent a summer in Delhi, deliberating my next move in life and roasting in the heat.
Many battles with family and fate made quick concrete roads leading to Bangalore under the pretext of Aerosmith's live concert. A tiny suitcase and air ticket later I was in his arms listening to "Dream on".
Time passed. In a few months we parted ways because my tooth brush seemed to be sprouting like Jack's beanstalk to the sky and occupying too much personal space in his bathroom. Sure..
Work was found. I danced. I drew. More friends. Dear dear friends, more partings, more love later.. frustration with job become the humm of my life. Another trip to Delhi was made.. next step deliberated. This time, I got a call from work sending me to Korea. I got onto that boat and sailed away for 6 months.
Now, I'm in Delhi again. Deliberating. My heart is in Spain.. a lover on the shores of Catalunia. I've been studying Spanish. Crying at Visa offices. Telling them the truth. This is a question of my marriage.. well, it could lead there, if you let me go. But what is a faceless Visa system? Where is the slot for love on the Visa form? Where is the space for poetry to my lover? Can I sign the dotted line in blood? Is that enough of a motive?

will this lead me to Spain now? Will it ever happen!
I've decided trouble is not worth delving into. Of course when it comes with all its strength its best to surrender and cry, but at times when you feel helpless, its best give up watch a movie or something. Gone are the days when I could dive deep into depression, swim in self pity to find an oasis of friend's help. I'm much more optimistic. Now its the universe alone that can help me. . or not.

it has no real choice

hazey jane.

How many voodoo dolls would I need to make to kill civilisation?

I'm exhausted. Just tired of all the round about ways of living we have created to call ourselves progressed. The amount of barriers to our essence, to simplicity and love frustrate me. I find myself uncontrollable hot in the stomach as soon as someone pushes me to get ahead in the metro, visa office made me cry and phone calls disorient me. I think a world without the notion of "impossible is nothing", "if we can reach the moon, we can go anywhere" would be far more satisfying.

but impossible is nothing.. but the way there is hazey.

This is an open invitation for an invitation. I want to go to Spain. If you are from Spain or know people in Spain.. here's an artist (dancer, illustrator, tarot reader, hindi- english language teacher and a good learner) who will work for you, free of charge. All I need is a letter saying you want me to come to Spain and work for you.

thats all.
Ive sent this message now, into the universe. something will bounce back.

giant thank you in sand.

Today is a giant Thank you
scribbled in the sand
of my heart's beach.
A thank you to the angels
sitting at angles
of the universe, waiting
to help those who ask for it.
Thank you for friends, for hugs,
for the new people I've met.
Thank you for the freedom to bend days
and meet departing friends before they head home.
Thank you for sudden connections and possibilities
in a big city of dust storms and unbearable heat.
Thank you for the music and dance and
metro feeder buses.
Thank you for Paro and her great friends,
her love and inspiration.
Thank you for Abhilash and his openness,
and confidence with help.
Thank you for Chris and Christine's generous
love and care, for the illegal three on a bike riding all over Goa.
Thank you for random hugging people,
conversations in the dark,
and Krishna, the Kerela massage teacher.
Thank you for all the russian massage clients,
and Chris of Ashiyana and Roger of Watsu
for the great discounts at learning and sharing.

Thank you to the Spaniyards
for spreading wings of love,
providing shade
and nurture to the young sapling
of trust in me.

Thank you Xavi,
for trusting my process
while I trust yours.
For being accepting of my love and hate.
For the light and the shadow.

Thank you family,
for being yourself and giving me a little space
to be me.

Thank you osho
for leaving so many of your words in neat recordings behind
for me to listen to.
Thank you old job,
for letting go of me and giving me a new life.

Thank you deybu,
for being around on sad days in Delhi.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

i really want to draw
upload something,
specially to go along with this
but I have no means of doing so,
with me!

stale pizza decisions

some decisions are better
if made a day later..
like stale pizza tastes better reheated
the next morning.