Quick round of this blog, Because at this time, I sure as hell don’t know how long this might turn out to be. I’m sitting on a tsunami of thoughts!
[ Everybody is the same, and how I wouldn’t /couldn’t accept that. Love is not blind, attachment sure is, what we are is only transient in nature, we have to be this for the soul to learn , heal and reconcile.And if you are smiling at this point, I’m sure that you probably might not stay around till that your’s faithfully kitty kat signature!!! that’s ok. In time :). So thats the crux of this post.. oh oh oh oh .. Saints and Prostitutes.. that too ]
There was a point in time, and by point in time, I mean exactly two weeks ago , I was absolutely certain that I was incapable of seeing a world of connected people. I found that thought unrealistic. I mean, I would have burnt the world for just one person and I was extremely comfortable and happy with that choice of mine. I couldn’t see everybody as the same. I knew that if i had to pursue this journey along a spiritual path, burning the world for one wasn’t a very appealing way to go. I didn’t fight that thought. I would be fake. I didn’t want to pretend in front of a mirror anymore. So I let it be.
Things then changed. Things always do change.
I happened to be in a wonderful conversation yesterday. We were discussing saints and prostitutes. It wasn’t a comparison of who does what. It was a mere comparison of perceived moral righteousness and accepted vice. It was a classic example of branding that rested face to face on opposing corners of a spectrum that one could call life. Two extremes. One the society lauds, and other the society chastises.
For the first time in a really long while, I couldn’t call the difference out between a saint and a sinner. To me , both appeared to be the same. They both were a reflection of a moment in a transient plane. Let me explain.
Saint probably is a bloke who ‘s aware and akin to the fact that the body does not matter. Just keep it healthy and fit in order to pursue thoughts. A prostitute, I summed, would have reached the same conclusion. To her, body was not love. Body was a mere sack of skin and flesh and it held no further meaning to her anymore. Her hellish journey in life would have either left her with that lesson or would have fueled her hate towards the cruelty of this world.
What she’d become next was only tied to what she’d manage to learn. I stopped there. It was the connected oneness that had found me which I had managed to evade for the longest part of my life.
A saint of today was a sinner from a yester-life. When we experience, we learn, we reconcile and we heal our soul. Stating the obvious difference between a saint and prostitute , to me seemed pointless because we are overlooking the larger picture.
I will no longer burn the world for her. She’s just like me, you, and everybody else around. We all go through life’s many challenges. To shy away from one’s lesson is to shy away from walking that unwinding road in front of us.
That being said, I thought a sense of connected oneness would change the fabric of my heart. Contrary to my early assumptions, I’m strangely at peace with an acceptance that I’m neither special nor mediocre. Strangely, it is in this state of peace where I see the pointlessness to the cause of sympathies. I no longer feel sympathetic. It’s not the same as not caring. I will try to help those who need it. I will lend a hand and money for causes that appeal to me. There is no sympathy or pity left. Sympathies are our way to rob someone of their precious lesson to heal their souls. Who am I to question either their lessons or they journey in elevating themselves?
We suffer, endure, survive, laugh through moments of life. In course, there are things that leave us with a certain bitterness and if we choose to let that nurture within us, we end up doing two things
- Form a Bias that will go on to haunt our judgement and decisions for the reminder of our lives
- We’d not manage to reconcile the lesson that it imparts us with. We’d get sucked , yet again, into the cycle of victim and perpetrator.
These are the thoughts that swayed me away from sympathies. This life, all lives, we are but a choice of our Free Will. I can’t change that. Neither can you change it for someone else. We are free to choose what we want to choose.
I smile at the irony today. My journey into spirituality is a tale of love. Promises made and questions asked and today in my zen like detached peace, I find the answers to the questions I had asked. It’s not that the universe will not sit down and negotiate, I realized that I cant barter against anybody’s free will.
This new leg of my journey is today two weeks old. Mumbai, the land of fun and pretty women, also happened to be a deep spiritual journey which I did not see coming. In the moment as a lone traveler, I found out that I was never alone. Talk about an overwhelming realization. In retrospect, I think it was best the way things panned out. I wouldn’t change a thing.
Back to the discussion on saints and prostitutes. I am but reminded of Gita over this. It’s the dying who grieve for the dead. How true. The words were words to me before. Today, the usher me to a new world of meanings. How profound.
Who are we to question the nature of the lessons that one must endure. We can sure help, but never share an ounce of condescension under the guise of unconscious kindness.
It’s not love that which is blind. Love holds a purpose, it has a meaning. It senses when things are in sync, it grieves when things drift, It knows from what’s right and wrong, it pushes us to make that choice. Attachment, now that renders us blind. It’s that fixation that makes us overlook everything else that surrounds it. Its that attachment to both things pleasant and unpleasant that keeps us in a stasis of an emotional inertia.
For it was my attachment to attachment that forced that last paragraph. The love for that lesson, but attachment for those words, kept me blind to the fact that the very lesson now is but obtuse to the rest of the theme in the post!!!
yeah.. Lets wrap and close shop here. I’m ever so grateful that I get to read the words of a very wise Guru. The words are a tribute to you. I’m still not yours for the taking. I have a few demons of doubts to slay before I’m yours. Maktub that.. Lets see where the roads take me.